11
The rain had finally stopped.
Morning light filtered through the tall windows of the villa, pale and cold. Linnéa sat on the large sectional in the living room, wrapped in one of Isak’s sweaters. It was too big on her, the sleeves covering her hands. She hadn’t asked for it. He had simply put it on her after their shower and she hadn’t taken it off.
Isak stood by the window with a cup of coffee, looking out at the dark water. He was dressed in black trousers and a dark gray shirt, sleeves rolled up. Calm. Controlled. Like the violence of the night before had never happened.
But Linnéa could still feel the bruises on her hips. Could still feel the ghost of his hands on her body.
He turned and looked at her.
“Come here.”
She hesitated for only a second before standing and walking over to him. He pulled her in front of him so her back was to his chest, his arms wrapping around her waist as they both faced the water.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Then Isak said, voice low against her ear:
“Tell me what you’re feeling.”
Linnéa stared at the gray horizon. She was quiet for a long time before she answered.
“I’m scared,” she finally whispered. “Of you. Of what you’re doing to me. Of how much I…” She swallowed hard. “Of how much I don’t hate it anymore.”
Isak’s arms tightened around her.
“Keep going.”
Tears burned behind her eyes. She hated how easily they came now.
“Last night… when you fucked me against the wall in the rain… I fought you. I really fought. But part of me wanted you to catch me. Part of me wanted you to be rough.” Her voice cracked. “I came so hard I could barely stand, and all I could think was that I didn’t want you to stop. What the fuck is wrong with me?”
Isak turned her around so she faced him. He took her face in both hands and forced her to look at him. His thumbs brushed away the tears that had started to fall.
“Nothing is wrong with you,” he said quietly. “You’re finally stopping the lie.”
He leaned down and kissed her — slow, deep, and devastatingly gentle compared to how he had taken her the night before.
When he pulled back, his eyes were darker than the water outside.
“You were never meant for that small life you were living,” he continued. “You were surviving. Barely. I watched you slowly disappear under the weight of your father’s mistakes. I couldn’t allow that anymore.”
Linnéa’s hands came up to grip his wrists. She didn’t know if she was trying to push him away or hold on.
“You took everything from me,” she whispered.
“I gave you something better,” he answered. “Me. My obsession. My protection. Everything I have is already yours. It has been for years.”
He kissed her again, harder this time.
“And now,” he murmured against her lips, “I want the rest of you. Not just your body when I force it. I want your mind. Your heart. Your soul. I want you to stop fighting what you already know.”
He walked her backward until the back of her knees hit the couch. He pushed her down onto it and followed, covering her body with his.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he said, voice low and rough as he pulled the sweater up and off her.
Linnéa stared up at him, tears still clinging to her lashes. For several long seconds, she didn’t speak.
Then, very quietly, she said:
“I’m yours.”
Isak’s eyes flared with something raw and primal.
He stripped the rest of her clothes off with impatient hands, then his own. When he pushed inside her this time, it was slow. Deep. Almost reverent. But the words that left his mouth were anything but gentle.
“My perfect little whore,” he growled as he started to move. “Look at you. Crying while you take my cock. So fucking beautiful when you break for me.”
Linnéa moaned, legs wrapping around his waist without being told. Her hands clutched at his back, nails digging in.
“Say it again,” he demanded, thrusting harder.
“I’m yours,” she gasped. “I’m yours, Isak— fuck—”
He wrapped one hand around her throat and squeezed just enough to make her dizzy with pleasure and fear. His other hand slid between them, rubbing her clit in tight circles.
“Come for me,” he ordered. “Come while you say my name.”
She shattered.
The orgasm tore through her so violently her back bowed off the couch. She sobbed his name as her body convulsed around him. Isak fucked her through it, relentless, until she was shaking and crying beneath him. Only then did he let himself go, burying himself deep and coming with a low, guttural groan.
He didn’t pull out.
Instead, he stayed inside her, forehead pressed to hers, breathing hard.
“I’m never letting you go,” he whispered. “Even if you beg me to. Even if you hate me again tomorrow. You’re mine now. Completely.”
Linnéa closed her eyes, tears slipping down her temples.
She didn’t argue.
For the first time since he had walked into her apartment, she didn’t want to.
Isak kissed her forehead, then her eyelids, then her mouth.
“Rest,” he murmured. “Because tonight, I’m going to take the last piece of you that’s still holding on to who you used to be.”
He pulled out slowly and gathered her against his chest.
Linnéa lay there, listening to his heartbeat, feeling his come leak out of her.
She didn’t try to move away.
She didn’t try to fight.
And somewhere deep in her chest, in the place that used to belong only to fear and rage, something warm and terrifying had begun to grow.