8
The fire crackled softly in the large stone fireplace, casting golden light across the dark wooden floors. Rain whispered against the tall windows. Linnéa knelt on the thick rug in front of the flames, just as Isak had told her to.
Her knees pressed into the soft wool. The cream sweater had slipped off one shoulder. She kept her hands resting on her thighs, unsure what to do with them. Her heart hammered so hard she was sure he could hear it.
Isak stood a few steps away, watching her. He had removed his shirt, leaving only dark trousers slung low on his hips. The firelight played across the hard lines of his chest and the old scar along his ribs.
He looked at her like a man who had finally been given something he had hungered for years.
“Take off the sweater,” he said quietly.
Linnéa hesitated for only a second before pulling it over her head. The air was warm from the fire, but she still shivered as it hit her bare skin. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath.
Isak’s gaze moved over her slowly — her breasts, the faint bruises on her hips, the way her nipples had tightened. He didn’t rush. He simply looked, like he was memorizing her.
“Now the trousers,” he said.
She pushed them down and stepped out of them, leaving her completely naked on her knees in front of him.
For a long moment, he simply watched her. Then he stepped closer and threaded his fingers through her hair, gripping it tightly at the roots. He tilted her head back so she had no choice but to meet his eyes.
“Open your mouth.”
She did.
He freed his cock with his other hand — already hard, thick, the head flushed. He dragged it slowly across her lower lip, smearing pre-cum there.
“You’re going to suck me,” he said, voice low and rough. “And while you do, you’re going to keep your hands behind your back. If you move them, I stop. Do you understand?”
Linnéa nodded, throat tight.
“Words.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Yes what?”
She swallowed. “…Yes, Sir.”
Something dark and satisfied flashed in his eyes.
“Good girl.”
He pushed into her mouth without warning.
Linnéa’s eyes watered as he filled her, thick and heavy on her tongue. He didn’t give her time to adjust. He simply started fucking her mouth in slow, controlled thrusts, one hand still fisted in her hair, the other resting on her jaw.
“Eyes on me,” he ordered.
She looked up at him through wet lashes. The sight of him — powerful, calm, completely in control while he used her mouth — made something twist low in her stomach. Shame and heat coiled together until she could barely tell them apart.
Isak’s breathing stayed even, but his eyes burned.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this,” he said as he pushed deeper, hitting the back of her throat. “How many nights I watched you and thought about your pretty mouth stretched around me. About how you would look on your knees, trying so hard not to want it.”
Tears spilled over her cheeks as he pushed deeper still. She gagged, but he didn’t pull back. He held her there for a few seconds, letting her struggle, before easing off just enough for her to breathe.
“Breathe through your nose,” he murmured. “That’s it. Good girl. Take it.”
He used her mouth for several long minutes — slow and deep one moment, faster and rougher the next. Every time she tried to pull back or move her hands, he tightened his grip in her hair and reminded her of the rules with nothing but his eyes.
When he finally pulled out, her lips were swollen and wet, saliva dripping down her chin. She was breathing hard.
Isak wiped her mouth with his thumb, then pushed it between her lips for her to suck clean.
“On the rug,” he said. “On your back. Legs spread.”
She moved without hesitation this time.
The rug was soft against her spine. The fire warmed one side of her body while the cooler air kissed the other. Isak knelt between her spread thighs and looked down at her — at the way her chest rose and fell, at how wet she already was, at the conflict still warring in her eyes.
He didn’t touch her right away.
Instead, he ran his hands slowly up the insides of her thighs, spreading her wider.
“Look at you,” he murmured. “Soaked. And I haven’t even touched your cunt yet. Is this what fighting me does to you, Linnéa? Does it make you this desperate?”
She turned her head away, face burning.
Isak gripped her jaw and forced her to look at him again.
“Answer me.”
“Yes,” she whispered, voice cracking. “It makes me wet.”
He smiled — slow and dangerous.
Then he leaned down and spit directly onto her clit.
Linnéa gasped.
Isak rubbed it into her with two fingers before pushing them inside her in one smooth motion. He fucked her with his fingers until she was writhing, then replaced them with his cock. He pushed in slowly this time, watching every flicker of expression on her face as he filled her.
When he was buried to the hilt, he leaned down and rested his forehead against hers.
“I’m going to fuck you until you can’t think anymore,” he told her. “Until the only thing left in that pretty head is me. My cock. My come. My name.”
He started moving.
This time it was slower than before, but deeper. More deliberate. Every thrust dragged against that spot inside her that made her see stars. He didn’t grab her throat. Instead, he laced their fingers together and pinned her hands above her head, holding her down with his body weight.
“Say it again,” he demanded. “Tell me who you belong to.”
“You,” she gasped. “I belong to you.”
“Again.”
“I belong to you— ah— Isak—”
He fucked her harder, the sound of skin against skin mixing with the crackling fire. When she came, it was with a broken cry, her back arching off the rug as her body convulsed around him. Isak followed soon after, burying himself deep and coming with a low, guttural groan.
For a long moment, the only sounds were the fire and their ragged breathing.
Then he pulled out slowly and gathered her into his arms. He rolled them so she was lying on top of him, still connected. He stroked her hair with one hand while the other rested possessively on her lower back.
Linnéa lay there, cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. She was crying again — silent tears that soaked into his skin. She didn’t know if they were from shame, exhaustion, or something far more terrifying.
Isak kissed the top of her head.
“You’re getting there,” he murmured. “Every time you come on my cock while crying, you get a little closer to accepting what you are.”
She didn’t answer.
She didn’t have the strength to lie anymore.
Outside, the rain kept falling.
Inside, Linnéa stayed exactly where Isak wanted her — naked, marked, and full of him.
And for the first time, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be anywhere else.