7. Chapter 7 #4
He’s going to fuck me. Right now. While I’m still chained to this bed, still shaking from being edged into incoherence, still covered in blood and sweat and cum.
The thought makes my spent cock twitch with interest. I should be exhausted. Should be terrified. Should be anything except eager.
Suha steps out of his pants and boxers in one motion.
His cock is already hard, thick and flushed dark at the tip.
I remember the feel of it from last time, how it stretched me open, how his knot locked us together for what felt like hours.
My hole clenches on nothing, suddenly desperate to be filled again.
He climbs onto the bed, and the mattress dips under his weight. I’m still spread wide, chained and helpless, and he settles between my legs.
“You wanted to be dominated,” he says. His hands land on my thighs, pushing them wider. “You wanted someone strong enough to put you in your place.”
“Yes,” I breathe out. My voice is still wrecked from screaming.
“Then you’re going to take everything I give you.” His pheromones start flooding the room, thick and overwhelming. They crash over me in waves, making my head spin and my vision blur at the edges. So strong I can barely breathe through them. “And you’re not going to come until I say you can.”
Before I can respond, he’s pushing into me.
No prep, no warning, just the blunt head of his cock pressing against my hole and then sliding in.
The stretch burns even after the plug, my body protesting the intrusion, but he doesn’t stop.
Doesn’t slow down. Just keeps pushing until he’s buried to the hilt inside me.
I cry out, my back arching off the mattress. The chains rattle as I pull against them reflexively. It’s too much, too fast, the burn mixing with pleasure in a way that makes my toes curl and my vision white out at the edges.
Suha doesn’t give me time to adjust. He pulls back and slams in again, setting a pace that’s brutal from the start. Each thrust jolts the air from my lungs, makes the headboard bang against the wall. His fingers dig into my thighs, holding me in place as he fucks into me.
The pheromones keep pouring off him in waves.
They fill my lungs with every gasping breath, saturate my skin, sink into my bones.
My own pheromones try to rise in response, that automatic alpha reaction to being challenged, but his are so much stronger.
They crush mine down, force them into submission, until all I can smell is him.
“This is what you wanted,” he says. His voice is rough now, losing that careful control. “To be fucked like this. Used like this.”
“Yes,” I gasp out between thrusts. “Yes, fuck, yes—”
He leans down and sinks his teeth into my shoulder, right over one of the fading marks from last time. The pain is sharp, making me cry out. I feel his teeth break skin, feel blood well up hot and wet. He doesn’t let go, just bites down harder, his hips never stopping their relentless pace.
When he finally releases my shoulder, I can feel blood trickling down my arm.
He moves to my neck, to the junction where it meets my shoulder, and bites down there too.
Right over the bond mark. The sensation is electric, like he’s biting directly into my nervous system.
Every nerve in my body lights up at once and I scream, pulling against the chains hard enough that I feel something tear in my wrists.
His pheromones surge stronger, flooding the bond between us. I can feel it strengthening, deepening, becoming something more solid and permanent. The connection that was already there from the first time now feels like a living thing, pulsing between us with every thrust of his hips.
He moves to my collarbone and bites down again.
Then my other shoulder. Then back to my neck, lower this time.
Each bite sends another surge of pheromones through the bond, reinforcing it, claiming me over and over.
My skin is on fire, blood trickling from multiple wounds, and I can’t think past the overwhelming sensation of being marked. Owned. Possessed.
He fucks me harder, faster, his control completely gone now. The headboard slams against the wall with every thrust. The chains holding me down rattle and strain. My cock is hard, trapped between our bodies, leaking steadily.
I can feel his knot starting to swell. The stretch is incredible, almost too much, my body struggling to accommodate it. But he doesn’t slow down, just keeps driving into me until the knot catches on my rim with every thrust, threatening to lock us together.
“Please,” I hear myself begging. “Please, I need to come, please let me come—”
“Not yet,” he snarls. He bites down on my shoulder again, hard enough that I taste copper in the air. “You don’t come until I knot you. Until you’re completely full of me.”
The next thrust drives his knot past my rim, and it locks into place with a sensation that makes my vision go white.
I feel impossibly full, stretched beyond what should be possible, his knot pressing against every sensitive spot inside me at once.
His cock pulses, and I feel him coming, hot and wet, filling me up.
He bites down on my neck one more time, right over the original bond mark, and something inside me snaps.
The bond flares bright and overwhelming between us, and I come without being touched, my cock pulsing between our bodies as my orgasm tears through me.
It goes on and on, wave after wave, until I’m shaking and gasping and completely wrung out.
Suha collapses on top of me, his weight crushing me into the mattress. We’re both panting, covered in sweat and blood and come. His knot is still locked inside me, keeping us joined, and I can feel his heartbeat through our chests pressed together.
The pheromones in the room are so thick I can barely breathe. They coat my throat, fill my lungs, sink into my skin until I’m drowning in them. All his. All alpha. All dominant and possessive and mine mine mine.
I’m floating. That’s the only way to describe this feeling—like my body has detached from gravity and I’m suspended somewhere between consciousness and oblivion.
Everything hurts in that distant, muffled way that tells me I’ve been thoroughly used.
My throat is hoarse, my voice completely shot from screaming.
My ass feels like it’s been split open and put back together wrong, and there’s so much come leaking out of me that I’m definitely lying in a puddle of it.
The sheets beneath me are soaked, sticky and cooling against my skin.
I can’t move. Couldn’t if I wanted to. My muscles have turned to liquid, every bone in my body replaced with jelly.
Even lifting my head feels like an impossible task, so I don’t bother trying.
I just lie here, breathing shallowly, staring at nothing while my brain tries to piece itself back together.
The restraints are gone. At some point during the last round—or maybe the one before that, I lost count—Suha must have removed the shackles.
My wrists and ankles are free, though I can feel the sting of broken skin where the metal bit into me.
There are probably bruises forming, deep purple rings that will last for days.
Evidence of how hard I fought against them while he fucked me into incoherence.
I’m vaguely aware of movement beside the bed.
The rustle of fabric, the soft click of a belt buckle.
Suha is getting dressed. I can see him in my peripheral vision, pulling on his boxers and pants with the same unhurried grace he does everything.
Like he didn’t just spend the last several hours fucking me until I couldn’t remember my own name.
My eyelids are heavy. I let them drift closed, too exhausted to keep them open. I can sense his satisfaction, his possessiveness, the predatory contentment of an alpha.
The thought should probably scare me. Should make me panic, try to run, do something. But I’m too wrung out to care. Too sated and boneless and completely destroyed in the best possible way.
I hear footsteps. Multiple sets, not just Suha’s.
The door must have opened while I was zoned out because suddenly there are hands on me, rough and impersonal.
My eyes snap open and I try to jerk away on instinct, but my body doesn’t cooperate.
I manage a weak twitch before the hands grab my wrists and yank them behind my back.
Metal clicks around them. Cuffs, not the shackles from before but something smaller, tighter. The guards secure them quickly, pulling my arms back until my shoulders protest. I make a noise that might be a question or might just be confusion, my brain still too scrambled to form actual words.
Then leather against my throat, thick and heavy. I feel it wrap around my neck, feel the buckle being fastened at the back. It’s snug enough that I’m aware of it with every breath, not choking but definitely there. A collar. They just put a fucking collar on me.
My heart, which had been slowing down from its post-orgasm haze, kicks back into high gear. Adrenaline tries to flood my system but my body is too exhausted to do anything with it. I manage to lift my head this time, blinking through the fog in my brain to look up at Suha.
He’s buttoning his shirt, looking completely put together despite what we just did.
His hair is slightly mussed, the only sign that he’s been doing anything other than sitting in a business meeting.
He catches my gaze and something shifts in his expression.
That blank mask cracks just enough to let through a smile that makes my stomach drop.
It’s not a nice smile. It’s sharp and wicked and full of dark amusement.
“What—” My voice comes out as a croak, barely audible. I swallow and try again. “What are you doing?”
Suha finishes with his shirt and reaches for his jacket. He shrugs into it, smoothing down the lapels. Then he steps closer to the bed, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to keep looking at him.
His hand shoots out and grabs my jaw. Not gently. His fingers dig into my skin, forcing my head higher, making the collar press against my throat. I can feel the metal ring at the front of it, heavy and cold.
“You wanted to be owned so badly,” he says. His voice is calm. “So now you are.”
My stomach does this complicated flip that’s only half fear. “I didn’t—”
“We’re bonded now, pet.” He cuts me off, his grip on my jaw tightening. His other hand comes up and hooks a finger through the ring on the collar, tugging it slightly. The leather pulls against my throat and I gasp. “Which means you’re not going anywhere.”
The word ‘pet’ hits me like ice water. Pet. Like I’m something he owns, something he keeps.
“You wanted a dominant alpha to claim you?” Suha continues. He leans down, bringing his face closer to mine. His pheromones wash over me, thick and overwhelming, reinforcing the bond between us. “Congratulations. You’re mine now.”
The full implications sink in slowly. He’s not going to let me go. Ever. The collar around my throat, the cuffs on my wrists—they’re not temporary restraints. They’re permanent fixtures.
I’m not a prisoner. I’m property.