Chapter 25 Sadie
SADIE
Awoman guides me through ornate double doors back into the orgy room. My heart hammers against my ribs, and before I can process anything, Landon materializes beside me, his fingers digging into my waist as he pulls me against him.
“Mine,” he growls against my ear. His grip is punishing, possessive in a way that sends equal parts fear and arousal through me.
I try to scan the room to understand what this claiming ceremony entails, but Landon’s presence overwhelms my senses. His body heat radiates through the thin fabric of my dress, his fingers pressing hard enough to leave marks on my skin.
Xavier’s voice echoes through the chamber, but the words blur together as Landon’s thumb traces my lower lip, his eyes burning into mine behind his mask.
“Do you understand what’s happening, little butterfly?” His voice drops lower, meant only for me. “We’re deciding if we want to keep our prey, but I’ve already decided. You were mine before you ever set foot in here.”
His fingers tighten on my waist. I wince at the pressure, but Landon doesn’t relent.
“I’ll kill anyone who touches you,” he promises, his lips brushing against my temple. “I’ll tear them apart while you watch.”
The look in his eyes isn’t only possession—it’s fixation. A dangerous madness that should send me running yet holds me frozen in place.
“Your heart is racing,” he observes, pressing his palm flat against my chest. “Are you afraid of me, Sadie? Or afraid of how much you want me?”
I can’t answer. The most terrifying revelation isn’t what Landon’s done to me throughout this Hunt.
It’s what he’s awakened inside me—the darker needs I’ve spent years denying.
Since my assault, I’ve built walls, locked away desires too shameful to acknowledge.
Landon didn’t merely find those walls—he obliterated them, forcing me to face everything I’ve hidden, even from myself.
And now, somehow, he’s become the only one who makes sense in this twisted reality. The only one who sees the broken pieces and doesn’t look away. The horrifying truth settles in my chest: I need him. After tearing me open and exposing my rawest wounds, he’s become the balm I crave.
“I’m going to claim you first,” he announces, his fingers tracing possessive patterns on my hip. “Tell me how you want it, little butterfly.”
I swallow hard, heat flooding my face. “I want...” The words stick in my throat, shameful yet undeniable.
His grip tightens. “Tell me.”
“Like before,” I admit. “When you... When you made me take it. When I fought, and you didn’t stop.”
A slow smile spreads across his face. “You want me to take you against your will with everyone watching?”
I nod, my entire body flushing with humiliation and desire.
Landon growls, low and feral. “Such a naughty girl,” he says, yanking me closer. “Wanting everyone to think I’m forcing you when we both know how wet you get for me.” His fingers dig into my flesh. “You want them to see you struggle while I claim what’s mine? While I make you surrender?”
“Yes,” I breathe, hating myself for how desperately I want this—this twisted game where I can pretend the choice isn’t mine.
“You’re perfect,” he says, and the worst part is how those words make me feel whole for the first time in years.
Landon’s hands release me, and coldness captures me as he steps away. The absence of his touch leaves me unmoored. He moves forward with deliberate steps, his white mask making him look like a beautiful demon.
Xavier raises a brow at him.
“I claim Sadie Reynolds for one full year,” Landon’s voice carries through the room. “She belongs to me completely.”
My breath catches in my throat. This is it—the moment where I truly become property of Landon Blackwood for a year.
I tense, my body coiling like a spring. I feel exposed, not just physically in these white silk ribbons, but as if everyone can see right through to the darkest corners of my psyche.
Landon turns back to me, his eyes burning with possession. When he reaches for me, I know I should pull away—that’s what an unwilling captive would do. But my traitorous body leans toward him like a flower seeking sunlight, even as I shake my head in what appears to be protest.
Heat prickles across my chest, rising up my neck to my cheeks. I can feel it, the evidence of my desire on display for everyone in this room.
“I don’t want this,” I state, but the words lack any real conviction.
Landon’s lips curve into that knowing smile that makes me want to both slap him and beg for his touch.
His hands are already working to remove my silk wrappings.
The white silk ribbons fall away from my body, sliding to the floor.
I stand completely naked before the entire room, skin prickling with goosebumps despite the heat rushing through me.
Landon’s eyes burn with possession as he takes in every inch of my naked form.
“Time to show everyone who you belong to,” he growls, his hand clamping around my wrist.
I pull back instinctively, my resistance part performance, part genuine anxiety at being so vulnerable before the assembled masked figures. “I don’t want this,” I hiss. “Not like this. Not with everyone watching.”
Landon’s grip tightens as he drags me toward the mirrored dais in the center of the room.
“Stop fighting,” he hisses, though we both know I won’t. We both know I can’t.
I twist in his grip, my free hand pushing against his chest. “Let me go!”
A dark thrill runs through me when his eyes narrow. This is what we agreed to—my resistance, his force. The perfect absolution for my desires.
He throws me down onto the cold surface of the dais, and I scramble backward, my breath coming in sharp pants. The mirrors reflect my nakedness from every angle.
I kick out when he approaches, my foot connecting with his thigh. Landon doesn’t even flinch. He catches my ankle, yanking me toward him and forcing my legs apart. I claw at his arms, leaving red marks that only seem to fuel his hunger.
“Mine,” he growls, fumbling with his pants. His cock springs free, hard and ready.
I thrash beneath him, secretly loving how effortlessly he pins me down. My resistance is real yet orchestrated—the perfect contradiction that lets me have what I crave while pretending I don’t.
When he slams into me without warning, I cry out—pain and pleasure becoming transcendent. “Stop!” My body arches, accepting him while I push against his shoulders.
Landon pounds into me relentlessly, my back pressed against the cold mirror surface. My struggles weaken with each powerful thrust, my body betraying me as pleasure builds where our bodies connect.
“Stop,” I gasp, but the word lacks conviction now. My nails dig into his shoulders, but I’m no longer pushing him away—I’m holding on.
His rhythm doesn’t falter as he leans down, capturing my mouth in a bruising kiss. I bite his lip, a last show of defiance, but when his tongue invades my mouth, I surrender to it, meeting him with equal hunger.
“Every stop from your lips makes your pussy clench tighter around my cock.”
My protests fade to whimpers as he shifts angles, hitting a spot deep inside me that makes my vision blur.
“Landon,” I moan, no longer able to maintain the pretense of unwillingness. My legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper.
My back arches as waves of pleasure crash through me. The room watches as I transform under his touch, my resistance melting. My moans echo through the room, contradicting the protests I made earlier, broadcasting my submission to all present.
“Look at you,” Landon commands, gripping my jaw and forcing me to meet his gaze. “I could get drunk on the sounds you make when I’m inside you.”
His thrusts grow harder, more demanding, and I meet each one, my body completely yielding to his possession. The pleasure builds higher, impossibly intense, until I’m clutching at him desperately.
“Please,” I beg.
Sweat gleams on his inked chest as he moves above me, making him look otherworldly. His hands grip my hips hard enough to bruise as he drives into me with punishing force.
“I’m going to make you come so hard you see stars,” he growls.
His relentless pace drives me higher, each brutal thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through me.
“That’s it,” Landon growls, his fingers digging into my thighs as he spreads me wider. “Your pussy feels like heaven—hot, wet, and made for me.”
My walls clench around him as he hits that perfect spot inside me over and over. The pressure builds impossibly, my breath coming in desperate gasps. I’m dimly aware of eyes watching us, but nothing matters except the point where our bodies join.
“Come for me.”
“I can’t—” I whimper, trembling on the edge of devastation.
“You can and you will,” he commands, one hand moving to circle my throat possessively. “Come for me now.”
My body obeys, as if his words alone can command me.
The orgasm crashes through me with shocking intensity.
My back arches off the mirror as I clench around him, wave after wave of pleasure making me cry out his name.
My nails rake down his back as I shudder beneath him, completely lost to sensation.
Landon’s rhythm falters as my body squeezes him. “Fuck,” he groans, his movements becoming erratic. With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside me, his cock pulsing as he fills me with his release.
A fleeting thought crosses my mind—thank God they required birth control as part of accepting the invitation to the Hunt.
The clinical blood tests and mandatory shots seemed invasive at the time, but now I understand the necessity.
I’m so full of his cum, it would be a miracle if I wasn’t pregnant by the end of this without the protections.
Before I can catch my breath, Landon pulls down his mask, and his mouth is at my neck, his teeth scraping sensitive skin.
He bites down hard enough to make me gasp, sucking the tender flesh between his lips.
The sharp pain mingled with pleasure makes me moan again as he marks me visibly for everyone to see.
“Mine,” he murmurs against the bruise forming on my neck, his tongue soothing the spot he just claimed.
The word reverberates through me, settling deep in my bones. Mine. His. Possessed. Owned.
And for once, I don’t recoil at the idea.
Just days ago, the concept of belonging to someone would have sent me running. I’ve spent years protecting my independence after what happened to me. I convinced myself I needed no one—that vulnerability was weakness, that surrender meant defeat.
With his weight crushing me into the mirrored dais, his mark pounding at my neck, a fracture opens inside me. The truth surges upward like a bubble I can no longer submerge.
I want him—not for pleasure, not for the games, but for the claim. For the possession. For the ruin of being his.