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So, even if I don’t say that part out loud, I do say the thing that will get us both what we want.
“Since when have you ever cared about what you deserve, hm?” I ask him, half-serious and half-teasing. “You’ve never stopped to ask permission, so don’t stop now. Do you want me, Lukas?”
He nods, face solemn. “More than life itself, Rae.”
I nod back. “Good. Then be selfish and fuckingtakeme.”
Those are the magic words. After one more shuddering inhale, all remaining traces of the gentleman in Lukas disappear…
… and the beast takes over.
He pulls out of me without warning. I whine at the sudden emptiness. But before I can even voice my complaint, his hands are on my hips, rag-dolling me over onto my hands and knees.
I have just enough time to brace my hands against the mattress before he’s ramming into me again from behind.
Oh, God.
The new angle is… It’s…
I cry out, fingers twisting in the dusty sheets. But from this position, there’s nothing I can do but take it. Takehim, every devastating inch, buried so far inside me that the boundaries between us are no longer relevant.
My cheeks heat at the vulnerability of it. On all fours, completely at his mercy. I’ve never felt more exposedin my life.
Correction: Lukas gathers my hair in his fist, bends me up toward him, pinches my nipple, and tweaks my clit in a way that makes me moan as loud as I possibly can…
ThenI feel more exposed than ever.
With my hair as a handle, he arches me until my spine is bowed and my shoulder blades touch his chest. I have no choice but to follow where he leads. My breasts bounce with every vicious thrust as he murmurs into my ear that my pussy is “so tight, so tight, sofuckingtight.”
His other hand spans my entire belly to anchor me against him. I can feel each of his scarred fingers pressing into my pale skin, scarred against unblemished. The size difference between us has never been more apparent. He’s so massive. So overwhelmingly, terrifyinglybig.I’m a little chew toy in comparison.
“Look. Right there.”
He palms my throat and steers my face until I see what he’s gesturing toward: a mirror, tarnished and old, hanging on the wall directly in front of us.
And in it… is me.
Theoretically, it’s me. In reality, I don’t recognize the woman staring back.
She’s debauched. Naked, tear-streaked, ruined. Her mascara is pouring down her cheeks, and her lips are swollen and bitten red. Her hair is a tangled mess in the fist of the man behind her.
She looks like a whore.
She looks like a queen.
She looks like a creature made entirely of need.
Behind her—behindme—Lukas rises up like a conquering warlord claiming his greatest prize.
All brutal masculine power. All silver-threaded dominance. His chest gleams with sweat, his jaw is set in fierce concentration, and his gray eyes burn into mine through the mirror.
His lips curl into something savage. “Watch me fuck you,” he growls, his hand tightening even harder in my hair. “Watch what I do to you.”
If I had breath in my lungs, I’d laugh out loud.
As if I could ever look away.
The woman in the mirror isn’t really human anymore. She writhes and moans as she becomes what Lukas Lazarev wants her to be: a vessel for his own selfish pleasure.
