5
Linnéa didn’t know how long they lay there.
The rain had turned heavier again, drumming against the glass walls of the villa. The fire crackled softly in the corner, casting flickering shadows across the room. Isak’s arm was locked around her waist, his chest solid against her back. She could still feel him between her legs — the ache, the slow, shameful slide of his come as it leaked out of her.
She hated that her body kept reminding her what he had done.
When she tried to shift away, his arm tightened.
“Stay,” he murmured against the back of her neck. His voice was low and rough. “I’m not finished with you yet.”
He sat up and pulled her with him. Before she could protest, he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the large bathroom attached to the bedroom. He set her down on the edge of the massive stone bathtub and turned on the taps. Steam began to rise immediately.
Linnéa wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly very aware of how naked she was. How thoroughly he had marked her.
Isak undressed without hurry, revealing a body that was all lean muscle and old scars. When he was naked, he stepped into the tub and pulled her in after him. The hot water made her gasp. He sat down and guided her to straddle his lap, facing him. The position forced her to look at him.
She tried to keep her gaze on his chest. He wouldn’t allow it. He took her chin in his hand and made her meet his eyes.
“Look at me,” he said quietly. “I want to see what I’ve done to you.”
Her face burned. She could feel his cock already hardening again beneath her.
Isak reached between them and dragged two fingers through the mess between her legs. He brought them up, glistening, and held them in front of her mouth.
“Open.”
She hesitated.
His other hand tightened on her hip in warning.
Linnéa parted her lips.
He pushed his fingers into her mouth, making her taste both of them. The act felt more intimate and degrading than anything he had done to her so far.
“Swallow,” he ordered.
She did.
Something dark and satisfied moved through his eyes.
He washed her slowly after that. His hands moved over every inch of her body with deliberate care — not gentle, but possessive. Like he was relearning territory he had already claimed. When he reached between her legs, he didn’t just clean her. He pushed two fingers inside her sore cunt and fucked her with them in slow, unhurried strokes while the hot water lapped at her skin.
Linnéa bit her lip hard, trying not to make a sound.
Isak watched her face the entire time.
“You’re fighting so hard,” he murmured. “Even now. Even after I’ve already been inside you. Do you have any idea how beautiful you look when you’re trying not to fall apart?”
He curled his fingers and pressed against that spot inside her that made her vision blur. A broken sound escaped her before she could stop it.
“I’ve thought about this for years,” he continued, voice low. “About having you like this. Not just your body — though God knows I’ve imagined that more times than I can count. But this. You, trying so desperately to hate me while your body tells the truth.”
Linnéa turned her head away, tears stinging her eyes. Isak simply gripped her jaw and made her look at him again.
“I saw you the day my sister died,” he said quietly.
The words hit her like a physical blow.
Linnéa stared at him, eyes wide.
Isak’s expression didn’t change. His fingers kept moving inside her, slow and relentless.
“Your father was involved in a deal that went wrong. My sister paid the price for it. I was there that day. And you… you were there too. You didn’t see me. But I saw you. Standing in the rain, looking lost. And something in me decided that if I had lost something, then I was going to take something in return.”
He leaned forward until his forehead rested against hers.
“You became mine that day, Linnéa. You just didn’t know it yet.”
Before she could respond, he pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his cock in one smooth thrust. She gasped, hands flying to his shoulders. He was already deep inside her before she could process what he had just said.
Isak didn’t fuck her hard this time. He moved slow and deep, one hand gripping her hip while the other stayed wrapped around the back of her neck. Every thrust felt deliberate. Claiming.
“You can hate me for what my sister’s death turned me into,” he said against her mouth. “But you can’t hate me for wanting you. Not when I know you feel it too.”
Linnéa shook her head, but the movement was weak. Her body was already responding to him again, clenching around his cock with every slow thrust.
Isak kissed the corner of her eye, tasting the tear that had slipped free.
“Stop fighting it,” he whispered. “Just for tonight. Let me have you.”
She didn’t answer with words.
Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder as he continued to fuck her in the hot water. She came with a broken, muffled sound against his skin, and Isak followed soon after, holding her down as he came deep inside her once more.
For a long time afterward, neither of them moved.
Eventually, Isak lifted her off him and washed her again, this time with more care. He dried her with a thick towel, carried her back to bed, and pulled the covers over them both. He didn’t let her turn away. He kept her facing him, one leg thrown over hers, his hand resting possessively on her hip.
Linnéa stared at his chest, eyes dry but burning.
She didn’t know what to feel anymore.
Isak stroked her hair with slow, steady movements.
“You’re getting there,” he murmured. “Every time you let me inside you without fighting as hard as before, you get a little closer to accepting what you are.”
She didn’t answer.
But for the first time, she didn’t pull away either.
Outside, the rain kept falling over the dark water.
Inside, Linnéa lay in the arms of the man who had destroyed what was left of her old life — and she wasn’t sure anymore if she wanted him to stop.