She breaks.
Her body stiffens first, like she wants to keep fighting, to push back one last time. But then a shudder rolls through her, her breath catching, and her hands grip me tighter as a low, wrecked sound slips from her lips. Not surrender. Not submission. Just raw, unfiltered need.
I grip her chin, forcing her to look at me. "That’s right," I hiss, dragging my mouth over hers, biting at her lower lip before soothing it with my tongue. "Mine."
She trembles, fingers flexing against my shoulders. "Yours," she breathes.
I growl, heat surging through me, the need to take her, claim her, and brand her overwhelms every last shred of control I have left.
I don’t ease her down onto the counter. I take her. Hard. Fast. Bruising.
My hands move with purpose, tearing at her clothes, yanking up her shirt, and shoving it over her head before she can even protest. Her bra follows, straps snapping under my grip, and baring her to me in one swift motion. I don’t stop to admire—I don’t have the patience for that. Instead, my mouth finds her neck, trailing rough, open-mouthed kisses down to her collarbone, biting, sucking, and leaving my mark on every inch of her skin.
She gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders, but I don’t slow. My hands travel lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of her pants, yanking them down in a single, and unrelenting motion. She’s wet—soaking, slick, ready for me, and fuck if that doesn’t send a surge of possessive satisfaction straight through me.
I grip her thighs, spreading her open, and positioning her exactly where I want her. She trembles beneath my touch, but she doesn’t shrink away—no, she lifts her hips, pressing into me, and demanding more.
"Look at you," I rasp, running a rough hand up the inside of her thigh before dragging my fingers through her slick heat. "So fucking wet for me, Kitten. You gonna tell me this isn’t what you wanted?"
She glares, defiant even now, but her body betrays her, hips rolling forward, chasing my touch.
I chuckle darkly. "That’s what I thought." And give her exactly what she needs.
I thrust into her in one sharp, claiming movement, and swallowing the gasp ripping from her lips with a searing, desperate kiss. Her legs wrap around me, holding me there, and her nails raking down my back as she tries to match my pace—fast, brutal, and unrelenting. Every thrust sends her sliding against the cold steel, every movement a reminder that I own this moment.I own her.
And she loves it.
Her cries fill the lab, raw and desperate, echoing off the walls, and mixing with the wreckage around us. Every breath, every whimper, and every gasping moan pushes me closer to the edge, her body a perfect, overwhelming vice around me. Glass crunches under my boots as I move, as I press her down, as I give her exactly what she needs.
She meets me thrust for thrust, her body clenching around me, dragging me deeper, and demanding more.
"Harder," she gasps, and fuck—
I give it to her.
I slam into her, claiming, consuming, and destroying her the way she’s wrecked me. My hand wraps around her throat, not tight enough to cut off air completely, but just enough to make her gasp, to make her body tighten around me in response. Her pulse thrums beneath my fingers, wild and erratic, a perfect echo of my own. She moans, the sound breaking into a whimper as I squeeze just a little harder, and push her deeper into the pleasure only I can give her.
And then it hits her—hard and all-consuming. Her body locks, her back arching off the counter as pleasure crashes through her like a breaking wave. A strangled cry rips from her throat, her fingers digging into my arms, and her nails bite deep as she loses herself in it. Her eyes flutter closed, her lips parting, and her whole body trembling as I tighten my grip just enough to push her higher until she’s right on the edge of too much.
At the last second, I release her throat, and she gasps, sucking in air like she’s been drowning in pleasure. Her body jerks violently, a strangled, breathless cry spilling from her lips as she splinters apart, and her entire body seizes in pleasure so intense it borders on pain. Her nails dig into my back, her thighs squeezing tight around me, trying to ground herself as the aftershocks pulse through her, while one wave after another, leaves her wrecked beneath me. The sound she makes—raw, broken, and utterly wrecked—shoots through me, the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever heard.
Pain rips through me, white-hot and unrelenting, but my body continues surging forward as I claim her in every way possible. My grip on her hips is bruising, anchoringus both as I drive into her, and chase that final, obliterating release. A guttural growl rips from my throat, the force of my release slamming into me like a breaking storm. My entire body feels on fire, my hips driving into her one final time as pleasure detonates, and drags me under. The world narrows to her—to the feel of her clenching around me, the way her body still trembles, and the raw, shattered way she breathes my name like I’m the only thing keeping her tethered to reality.
I bite her throat; it’s a final mark, a brand that will linger long after this moment fades. Her gasp turns into a sharp, breathless whimper, and her fingers tighten against my skin like she never wants to let go.
And maybe I don’t either.
She’s mine.
Always has been.
Chapter 48
Aftershocks
Violet
I’m sprawled out beneath him, wrecked in the best way possible, my smirk lazy and unrepentant, while my breath still comes in uneven bursts. Asher hovers over me, and his fingers dig into my hips like he needs to keep me here—like I might disappear if he lets go—but it’s more than possession. It’s grounding. Like he needs the reminder that I’m real, that this moment is real, not just the pleasure of it but the proof of something deeper he doesn’t want to name.
