Rhys
The bruise spreading across her cheekbone made something violent twist through my chest. Dark purple already. Would be worse tomorrow. The split in her lip—still seeping slightly despite the antiseptic—sent rage coiling hot and vicious through my veins.
Someone touched her. Put their hands on what was mine. Left marks on skin I'd kissed, claimed, worshipped.
My jaw ached from grinding my teeth. Hands shook with leftover adrenaline that had nowhere to go. I'd stopped myself from killing him—barely—but the urge still thrummed beneath my skin like a second heartbeat.
I wanted him dead. Would've done it too, if she hadn't stopped me.
My thumb traced the swollen curve of her bottom lip. Careful. So fucking careful not to hurt her more than she already was. But the cut mocked me. A thin line splitting soft pink flesh. Evidence of my failure to protect her fast enough.
I leaned forward before I could think better of it. Pressed my mouth to hers—gentle, controlled—and tasted copper.
Her blood.
Something primal and possessive roared through me. I swept my tongue across the split, cleaning the wound the way I should've done with antiseptic. But this felt more necessary. More right. Mine to tend. Mine to fix. Mine to claim even broken and bleeding.
She made a small sound against my mouth. Not pain. Something softer.
The adrenaline still flooding my system demanded movement. Action. Violence or sex or anything that would burn off the electric current racing beneath my skin. I couldn't stay still. Couldn't just stand here when every muscle screamed for release.
I stepped forward. She stepped back. Forward again. Back.
Her shoulders hit the wall behind the counter, and I caged her there with my body.
Hands braced on either side of her head.
Not touching her yet—not trusting myself to touch her when I felt this raw, this unhinged—but close enough to feel her heat.
Her rapid breathing. The pulse hammering in her throat.
"Tell me to stop." My voice came out rougher than I meant. Nearly unrecognizable even to myself.
She didn't. Didn't push me away. Didn't flinch. Just looked up at me with those wide eyes that saw too much, understood too much, and still didn't run.
I caught her wrists. Pinned them above her head with one hand—gentle grip but unyielding—and watched her pupils dilate. Her breath hitched.
Good.
My mouth found the column of her throat. Traced the path I'd marked last night with lips and teeth and tongue. She trembled against me, and I pressed closer, needing to feel every shiver, every gasp, every sign that she wanted this as badly as I did.
"He saw it, didn't he?" The words came out a growl against her skin. Dark and possessive and unrepentant. "Ben. My mark."
She nodded. The movement dragged her throat against my lips.
I bit down hard enough to bruise. To leave evidence. To stake my claim where anyone looking would see exactly who she belonged to.
She gasped—sharp and breathless—and the sound shot straight through me.
My hips rolled forward before I could stop myself. Ground against her. Let her feel exactly what she did to me, how badly I wanted her, how little control I had left. Her back arched off the wall, and I pressed harder, pinning her with my body while my mouth worked across her throat.
Fuck.
I wanted her. Wanted her so badly it felt like dying. Wanted to strip her down right here in the empty café and bury myself so deep she'd never forget who she belonged to. Wanted to erase every doubt, every fear, every word her bastard father had spat at me.
She's just a kid.
You're sick.
You're using her.
You'll ruin her.
Maybe he was right. Maybe I was sick. Maybe the age gap did make me a bastard. Maybe I would ruin her just by wanting her this much.
But standing here with her pulse racing beneath my lips and her body arching into mine?
I didn't care. Couldn't care.
Nothing—not guilt, not shame, not consequences—would keep me from her now.
My free hand slid down her side. Gripped her hip hard enough to leave fingerprints. She whimpered, and I swallowed the sound with my mouth, kissing her like I could consume every piece of her until there was nothing left that didn't belong to me.
My fingers fumbled with the button of her jeans, shaking with something between rage and need.
She didn’t stop me. Just watched with those wide, dark eyes as I dragged the zipper down, as I hooked my thumbs in the waistband and pulled.
The denim hit the floor with a quiet thud.
Her underwear followed—black lace, already damp—and I groaned at the sight of her, bare and trembling and mine.
I didn’t wait. Didn’t ask. Just freed myself, my cock already hard and leaking, the tip glistening with precum. She bit her lip as she stepped out of the tangled fabric, her chest rising and falling fast. I couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t do anything but need.
I grabbed her thighs and lifted. She wrapped her legs around my waist instinctively, her arms locking around my neck. The second her heat pressed against me, I lost what little control I had left. I guided myself to her entrance—wet, ready—and thrust up in one rough motion.
She gasped, nails digging into my shoulders. I buried my face against her neck, breathing her in as I bottomed out. Fuck, she was tight. Perfect. Mine.
I didn’t move at first. Just held her there, impaled on me, letting her adjust. Her breath came in short, sharp bursts, her body clenching around me like she never wanted to let go. I could’ve stayed like that forever—inside her, connected, owning—but the need to move was too strong.
I pulled back slowly, then snapped my hips forward. She cried out, the sound swallowed by the empty café. I did it again. Harder. Deeper. Her back hit the wall with each thrust, her breathy moans driving me wild. I couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t fuck her hard enough, deep enough, close enough.
Her fingers tangled in my hair, her body arching into mine.
I gripped her ass tighter, lifting her just to slam her back down, over and over, until the only sounds were our ragged breathing and the wet slap of skin.
I didn’t care if someone walked in. Didn’t care about anything but the way she clenched around me, the way her nails scored my skin, the way her voice broke when I hit that spot inside her just right.
She was mine.
And I was never letting go.
Her nails dug into my shoulders, her body clenching around me like she wanted to smother me. I could’ve stayed buried inside her forever, but the need to move was too strong. I pulled back slowly, then snapped my hips forward. She cried out, the sound swallowed by the empty café.
“You’re mine,” I growled against her throat, my voice rough with possession. “Say it.”
She didn’t hesitate. “Yours.”
I thrust harder, deeper, punishing the wall with every snap of my hips. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the silence, raw and desperate. Every inch of her was mine—her breathy moans, the way her body trembled, the way she clung to me like I was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.
And I wanted her to fall apart. Wanted to watch her shatter on my cock, wanted to feel her come undone because of me.
The tension from Ben’s smug face, from her father’s taunts, from every second I’d spent pretending I didn’t want her—it all coiled inside me, tight and vicious.
I took it out on her body, fucking her like she was the only thing that could keep me from breaking.
Her back hit the wall with each thrust, her breath coming in sharp gasps.
I gripped her ass tighter, lifting her just to slam her back down, over and over, until the only sounds were our ragged breathing and the wet slap of skin.
I didn’t care if someone walked in. Didn’t care about anything but the way she clenched around me, the way her nails scored my skin, the way her voice broke when I hit that spot inside her just right.
“You feel that?” I demanded, my voice a dark growl. “You feel how good we are?”
She nodded, her body arching into mine, her breath hitching as I drove into her again. “Yes—”
I cut her off with another brutal kiss, swallowing her words, her moans, everything.
Her nails raked down my back as I drove into her harder, the sting of it only making me fuck her deeper.
The wall shook with every thrust, her breath coming in sharp, broken gasps against my mouth.
I could feel her tightening around me, her body coiling like a spring, and I wanted it—wanted her to come undone, wanted her to scream my name so loud the whole damn building heard.
"Come on, baby," I growled against her ear, my voice rough with need. "Let me hear you."
She whimpered, her body trembling, her fingers digging into my shoulders like she was trying to climb inside me.
I snapped my hips forward, hitting that spot deep inside her that made her gasp, her back arching off the wall.
Again. And again. Until her breath hitched, until her body locked up, until she was right there—
"Rhys—!"
Her scream echoed through the empty café, raw and desperate, and fuck if it didn’t make me harder.
I didn’t slow down. Couldn’t. Not when she was clenching around me like that, her body milking me, her voice breaking on my name.
I wanted everyone to hear her. Wanted every fucking person in this building to know exactly who she belonged to.
I buried my face against her neck, my thrusts turning erratic as her orgasm ripped through her. Her nails scratched my scalp, her body shuddering against mine, and I groaned, my own release barreling toward me like a freight train. I couldn’t hold back. Didn’t want to.
With one final, brutal thrust, I came inside her, my cock pulsing as I spilled deep.
My forehead dropped to her shoulder, my breath ragged, my body still trembling with the force of it.
She was warm and soft and mine, her fingers slowly dragging through my hair, her heartbeat pounding against my chest.
I didn’t move. Couldn’t. Not yet. Not when she felt this perfect.
"I love you."
I didn’t plan to say it. The words just tore out of me, raw and unfiltered, while I was still buried inside her. My cock pulsed with the aftershocks of my orgasm, my body pressed against hers, her warmth surrounding me like a second skin.
Her breath hitched. I pulled back just enough to see her face—eyes wide, lips parted, cheeks flushed pink. Fuck, she was beautiful like this. Undone. Mine.
"W-what?" Her voice cracked.
I didn’t repeat it. Just held her gaze, waiting.
She searched my eyes, like she was looking for the lie, the joke, the catch. There wasn’t one.
A slow blush crept up her neck, staining her cheeks darker. My cock twitched inside her at the sight.
"What?" I growled, rolling my hips just to watch her gasp.
She swallowed hard. "Maybe tell me when your cock isn’t buried inside me."
A dark laugh rumbled in my chest. I thrust deeper, just to prove I could. "I’ll tell you whenever the fuck I want."
Her nails dug into my shoulders, but she didn’t push me away. Just bit her lip, her body tightening around me again.
"Rhys—"
"Say it back." Not a request. A demand.
She hesitated. Not because she didn’t feel it—because she was scared. Of me. Of this. Of what it meant.
I didn’t give her time to overthink it. I kissed her, hard and possessive, my tongue sweeping into her mouth like I owned it. Like I owned her.
When I pulled back, her eyes were dazed, her lips swollen.
"Say it," I repeated, my voice rough.
She exhaled shakily. "I—"
I slowed my thrusts, dragging out each movement until she whimpered against my mouth. Her nails scratched into my shoulders, her body trembling around me, but I didn’t let her look away. Didn’t let her hide.
“I know you love me,” I growled, my voice rough against her ear. My hips rolled again, slow and deep, making her gasp. “I’ve known since the first time you kissed me.”
She tried to close her eyes. I caught her chin, forced her to meet my gaze.
“Tell me.”
Her breath hitched, her body clenching around me. “What if you leave again?”
I stilled. Then snapped my hips forward hard enough to make her cry out. “You think I could leave you?” Another brutal thrust. “You think you can leave me?”
She whimpered, her fingers twisting in my hair. I didn’t let up. Didn’t give her space to breathe. Just fucked her harder, deeper, my cock hitting that spot inside her that made her tremble.
“I’ve been obsessed with you since the second I saw you,” I admitted, my voice dark and rough. “Since you spilled coffee on me and looked at me like you knew me. Like you’d been waiting for me.”
Her breath came in sharp, broken gasps. I didn’t slow down. Couldn’t. Not when she was this close, not when I could feel her tightening around me, her body coiling like a spring.
“I watched you for days,” I confessed, my thrusts turning erratic. “Told myself I wouldn’t touch you. Told myself you were too young, too innocent, too good for a man like me.”
She moaned, her back arching off the wall. I gripped her hip harder, my fingers bruising her skin.
“But then you kissed me,” I growled, my voice breaking. “And I knew. I knew I’d never let you go. And it only solidified when your blood stained my cock and those sheets and—fuck!"
Her body locked up, her nails raking down my back. I could feel her orgasm building, her walls fluttering around me, her breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps.
“You’re mine,” I snarled, my hips snapping forward. “Say it.”
She cried out, her body shuddering, her voice breaking on a sob. “Yours.”
“Again.”
“I’m yours,” she gasped, her body clenching around me. “I love you, I love you, I love you—”
Her words sent me over the edge. I buried myself deep and came with a groan, my cock pulsing inside her as her orgasm ripped through her. She clung to me, her body trembling, her voice raw in my ear.
I didn’t pull out. Couldn’t. Just held her there, my forehead pressed to hers, my breath ragged.
“Never leaving you,” I promised, my voice rough. “Never letting you go.”
She nodded, her fingers tangled in my hair, her body still trembling around me.
Mine.
Forever.
And slowly, so slowly…
I set her down. Pulled out of her. Cupped her cunt so none of my come could spill out.
"Let's go home."