Page 76 of Hellebore

“Oh my God.” I reach up and cup his face. He immediately leans into my touch. “He’s your father… What kind of man does that to his own son?”

“A shitty one.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s a sad, broken thing that aches in my chest. “He never cared about anyone but himself. He hated seeing anyone else happy. My mother loved hellebores… so he destroyed them all.”

“Oh, Drystan…” I pull his face closer and kiss him softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He kisses me back, deeper this time. A low groan rumbles from his chest. “All of it brought me to you.”

When he pulls away, hunger darkens his gaze. He stands and slides his black boxers down his muscular thighs. His cock springs free, hard and heavy, piercings catching the light.

“I can’t wait until tonight, Briar,” he growls.

He steps into the tub and sits down, water splashing over the edge. “Come here. Sit on my cock.”

I should say no. I’m still sore, my body aching from everything he’s already done to me… but I need him too much.

I rise onto my knees, straddle his lap in the warm water, and grip his thick length. I brace my hands on his broad, powerful shoulders as I slowly sink down onto him. Every inch stretches me open, his piercings dragging along my sensitive walls with a burning, delicious friction that makes my breath hitch.

His face twists with feral pleasure, jaw clenched so tightly I can see the veins standing out sharply along his neck and forearms. The muscles in his arms and chest flex hard as he fights for control.

“Fuck!” he grunts, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise.

I feel all of him. Every thick inch. Every steel piercing rubbing deep inside me. God, why does this feel so good?

A dark whisper curls through my mind—he’s killed people—but the thought only sends a forbidden thrill racing down my spine. He’s dangerous. Lethal. And right now he’s buried inside me like I’m the only thing anchoring him to this world.

My fingers trace the raised, scarred letters of my name carved into his chest. The skin is rough under my fingertips.

“Why did you do this?” I breathe.

He stares straight into my soul, eyes dark and unhinged. “Because a tattoo wasn’t enough. I needed your name carved into me in pain and blood.”

The raw confession should terrify me. Instead, it makes me clench around him.

Before I can respond, he grips my hips tighter and thrusts up hard, slamming me down onto his cock. A sharp sting explodes through me. My head falls back as I cry out, caught between pain and blinding pleasure. He doesn’t stop—he keeps thrusting, harder, deeper, his powerful body surging beneath mine with raw, desperate need.

Water splashes violently around us with every brutal thrust of his hips. I should be terrified of how easily he could break me in half, yet instead I find myself drowning in him, craving more with every desperate roll of my body.

His hand slides up to my throat, large fingers wrapping around my neck with terrifying ease. I meet his gaze. His forest-green eyes have turned almost black with hunger, but the corner of his mouth curls into a dark, possessive smile as he begins to press on the sides of my neck. The air thins slowly but his hips continue their relentless rhythm, driving deep inside me, while his other hand grips my waist, holding me exactly where he wants me.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asks, voice low and rough, tightening his hold.

“Y-yes,” I manage, the word strained and breathless under the pressure of his fingers.

“You should be.”

He squeezes harder. My lungs burn. Panic flares bright and sharp through my chest. I struggle against him, but his grip remains unyielding. His thrusts grow even more powerful, each piercing dragging against sensitive places inside me until my mind turns hazy and molten.

Just as darkness begins to edge my vision, his hand loosens. I gasp in deep, greedy breaths, my whole body shaking violently. He does not remove his hand from my throat. He keeps it there, a heavy, constant reminder of his control, applying just enough pressure to make my pulse race wildly beneath his palm.

He shifts his movements, forcing my hips to grind against him so my clit rubs with devastating friction against his pelvis. The new angle, the relentless fullness, the weight of his hand on my neck—it all crashes over me at once.

A raw scream tears from my throat as my orgasm hits like lightning through my veins. I convulse around him, waves of blinding pleasure ripping through me so intensely I can barely hold myself upright. The combination of him, his piercings stretching me, his unyielding hand on my throat, and the dark devotion burning in his eyes becomes too much.

Darkness creeps in at the edges of my vision. My strength gives out completely, and I collapse forward onto his chest, trembling uncontrollably as the water continues to lap around us.

I hear Drystan release a deep, guttural grunt against my hair as his hips jerk one final time. The warmth of his release floods deep inside me, thick and endless, claiming my body. He presses a surprisingly tender kiss to the top of my head, his lips lingering there. Without a word, he reaches for the shower gel and continues to wash me with slow strokes, his cock still buried inside me, softening gradually while the water laps gently around us.

His large hands eventually slide to my hips. He lifts me carefully off him, the loss of his fullness leaving me achingly empty. He steps out of the tub first, wrapping a towel low around his waist. The silence that settles between us feels heavier than any of his unhinged declarations. It terrifies me more than his violence ever could.