Chapter 30 Sadie
SADIE
Ican’t breathe. Can’t think. Can’t do anything but feel as Landon’s body drives into mine relentlessly. My mind swims between consciousness and oblivion as my body shakes with yet another orgasm, my third—or fourth? I’ve lost count.
“Please,” I gasp, my voice barely a whisper. My throat is raw from screaming his name. “I can’t—”
“You can,” he growls, hips snapping against mine. “You’re my perfect girl, and you can give me all of you, can’t you, butterfly?”
My legs tremble, muscles spasming as aftershocks ripple through me. Every nerve ending feels hypersensitive to the point of pain. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes as pleasure borders on the unbearable.
“Landon, fuck,” I moan, clawing weakly against his chest. My strength is gone, sapped by the multiple climaxes that he’s ripped from my body. I’ve never been so boneless before, dragged into heaven by a demon like Landon. It feels like my mind has left my body. “I’m not sure I can take more.”
He catches my wrists in one hand, pinning them above my head as he continues his relentless pace. His eyes are wild, pupils blown wide.
“Be a good girl for me and take it,” he says. “I can’t fucking stop, Sadie. Fuck, you drive me so damn insane. Your cunt is too fucking perfect.”
The intensity in his gaze terrifies me. This isn’t the same man from the Hunt. Before me is a monster. My body responds even as my mind screams for relief, another orgasm building despite my exhaustion.
“You’re going to break me,” I groan, as he hits that spot inside me again, my overly sensitive body jerking.
Landon’s lips curl into a devastating smile as he leans down, teeth grazing my ear. “I’m not going to break you; you were broken long before me,” he whispers, and the cold certainty in his voice makes me shudder. “I’m the one who’s going to fix you. My beautiful little butterfly.”
The realization sinks into my bones, cold and terrifying. I’ve signed myself up for a year with a man who is completely insane—a psychopath who thinks he’s the one who will fix me.
My body continues to respond to him. A year.
Three hundred and sixty-five days of this.
The thought almost makes me come again. He’s so dominant.
I shouldn’t want this, the way he takes me and shows me exactly what I’ve been craving all this time.
The guy is so insane he fucking drugged me, and I wake up with him inside me, and yet it’s all I really want.
Landon notices my mind wandering. His hand grips my jaw, forcing me to look at him.
“Where do you think you’re going, little butterfly?” he growls. “Stay with me.”
Before I can respond, his mouth crashes down on mine. The kiss is brutal, his tongue invading my mouth. And despite everything—despite the exhaustion—I respond.
Forgetting my concerns or that he’s insane. All I can feel is Landon, his taste, his scent, his body moving against mine.
His fingers move between our bodies, circling that sensitive bundle of nerves mercilessly.
I whimper into his mouth, my hips bucking.
“One more,” he commands against my lips. “Come on, butterfly, give me one more.”
“I can’t,” I gasp. My limbs feel like lead. “I think you’ve drained every ounce of pleasure from me.”
His fingers continue their relentless assault, coaxing my body toward the edge.
“You can. I know you can, because you’re my perfect, beautiful girl,” he insists, eyes locked on mine. “Give me one more and then I’ll fill you up with cum.”
His hand slides up from my hip to my throat, fingers pressing against my windpipe. The pressure builds gradually, constricting my airflow enough to make my vision turn fuzzy at the edges.
“I know you, Sadie. You need the sweet violence of letting go.”
His grip tightens, thumb pressing against my pulse point. The lack of oxygen sends my body into overdrive, heightening every sensation—the stretch and burn as he drives into me, the weight of him pinning me down, the strange euphoria spreading through my limbs.
“Look at me,” he commands. The darkness in his expression calls to the part of me that is just as dark.
As spots begin to dance across my vision, he releases my throat. Air rushes into my lungs, the sudden oxygen hitting my system like a drug. Immediately, I know I’m teetering on the edge of no return.
“Good girl,” he praises, then, without warning, sinks his teeth into the sensitive juncture between my neck and shoulder.
I cry out, the sharp pain blooming into ecstasy. His teeth break skin, and he licks the wound he’s created.
“Mine,” he growls, fingers digging bruises into my hips as he pounds into me with renewed vigor.
The pain and carnal satisfaction send me spiraling. Every nerve ending fires at once, my pussy clamping around him as another orgasm crashes through me. It’s more intense than the others, ripping through my core with such force that I scream his name, my back arching off the bed.
“That’s it,” Landon snarls. “Take everything I give you.”
Despite my exhaustion, my muscles clench around him as waves of pleasure continue to roll through me.
My vision swims. I can barely form coherent thoughts as Landon moves above me, his pace growing more frantic, more desperate. The room spins around us, and I’m only anchored by the points where our bodies connect.
“Fuck,” he growls roughly. “Your perfect cunt is squeezing me so fucking tight.”
His words send another wave of my orgasm rippling through me. I’m completely at his mercy, and that broken part of me revels in it, wants more of this exquisite torture. My muscles continue to clench around him involuntarily as the orgasm refuses to subside.
Landon’s movements are erratic now, his breathing labored. I catch the second his restraint slips, muscles locking tight above me. His head dips down, teeth closing around my nipple as he comes.
The sharp pain shoots straight to my core, making my ongoing orgasm spike to impossible heights. I scream, my back arching off the bed as the sensation becomes too much to bear. The pleasure tears through me in a chaotic symphony that threatens to ruin me for all eternity.
My vision darkens at the edges, consciousness slipping away as my body shakes beneath him. I’m drowning, unable to breathe, unable to think. There’s nothing but Landon and this all-consuming sensation that’s destroying me from the inside out.
I cling to him, fingers digging into his shoulders as I fight to stay conscious. The room fades in and out of focus, my heartbeat thundering in my ears as my muscles ripple around him.
Landon’s rhythm falters, his hips jerking against mine as he groans against my skin. The sound vibrates through me. “Sadie,” he growls, his voice strained.
Then I feel it—the hot pulse of him emptying inside me, filling me.
“Oh god,” I gasp, my nails digging crescents into his shoulders as the sensation overwhelms me.
I’ve never felt anything like this. The weight of him pressing me into the mattress, the heat of him spilling inside me, marking me in the most intimate way possible.
It’s filthy and perfect.
My body shudders with aftershocks as he continues to empty himself, each pulse sending another wave of euphoria through me. I wrap my legs tighter around his waist, keeping him deep inside, not wanting to lose a single drop.
“Yes,” I breathe. “Fill me up.”
Since my assault, sex has been clinical, disconnected—an act I endured rather than enjoyed.
Even with partners who were gentle and considerate, I’d felt nothing but a hollow emptiness, going through motions while remaining locked inside myself.
I convinced myself that was all I could expect, that the assault had broken a fundamental part of me.
But this—Landon claiming me, using me, filling me—has awakened a part of me I thought was dead.
With Landon, there’s no pretense, no careful tiptoeing around my trauma. He sees my brokenness and matches it with his own, forging a union that is savage and beautiful.
I collapse back against the pillows, completely spent. My muscles tremble, and I’m too weak to even lift my arms. Every muscle aches with a deep, satisfying soreness.
Landon falls heavily beside me, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. The mattress dips under his weight, shifting me toward him. I feel a warm trickle between my thighs as his release seeps out of me onto the sheets beneath.
I should get up. Should clean myself. Should deal with the mess we’ve made. But my limbs refuse to cooperate, feeling like they’re filled with lead instead of bone and muscle. Even keeping my eyes open requires more effort than I can muster.
“Should... clean up,” I mumble, the words slurring together.
Landon makes a low sound in his throat. The bed shifts again as he moves closer, his arm sliding beneath my neck while his other wraps around my waist. He pulls me against him, my back to his chest, his body curving protectively around mine.
His heat envelops me. His skin is slick with sweat against mine, his breath warm against my neck. One of his legs hooks through mine, effectively pinning me in place.
The last thing I should do is melt into the embrace of this unhinged man who’s marked and claimed me in ways I never thought possible.
But as consciousness begins to slip away, all I feel is warm. Safe. Protected.
How strange that in the arms of a monster, I’ve never felt more secure.