Chapter Twenty-Two #2
I roll the condom on, fisting my shaft once, twice, to take the edge off. Then I position myself between her spread thighs. The head of my cock nudges against her entrance, feeling the heat and wetness there. She’s still sensitive from her orgasm, and when I press forward slightly, she whimpers.
“Look at me,” I command.
Her eyes open, meeting mine. There’s fear there, yes, but also hunger. Want. Need.
I thrust forward in one brutal stroke, burying myself to the hilt.
“Fuck!” she cries out, her body tensing around the invasion. Her inner walls grip me so tight I have to grit my teeth against the sensation. I hold still, watching her face as she adjusts to the stretch, the fullness. Her mouth falls open, her eyes going wide.
“Blyad,” I mutter, fighting for control. She’s so tight it borders on pain, her body struggling to accommodate me.
When her hips shift restlessly beneath me, I begin to move. Hard. Deep. No gentle introduction, no slow build. I set a punishing pace from the start, withdrawing almost completely before slamming back into her.
“Yes! Yes! Oh, God, Yes!” Her words jolt out in time with my hips. The angle with her arms bound behind her forces her back to arch, her breasts to bounce with each brutal thrust.
The bed frame hits the wall with each movement, a rhythmic thudding that echoes through the room. I hook my arms behind her knees, lifting her hips higher, changing the angle so I can drive even deeper. She cries out—a throaty, desperate sound—and I feel it in my gut, in my cock, everywhere.
“That’s it,” I growl, establishing a relentless rhythm. “Take it. Take all of it.”
Her inner walls flutter around me, still sensitive, and I know she’s close again. I can feel it in the way she tightens, in the way her breathing changes, in the way small sounds escape her throat with each savage thrust.
My hand wraps around her throat—not squeezing, just resting there. Feeling her pulse race beneath my palm. Reminding her that I’m in control. That she’s mine right now, completely at my mercy. Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t pull away.
“Is this what you wanted?” I ask, my voice rough as gravel. “To be fucked by a monster?”
Because that’s what I am. I’ve made peace with it. I’m not the hero of this story.
“You’re not—” she starts, but I thrust particularly hard, driving the breath from her lungs and cutting off her words.
“Stop lying,” I tell her through gritted teeth. “You know exactly what I am.”
I release her throat, my hand sliding between our bodies to find her clit.
It’s swollen and sensitive, and when I circle it roughly with my thumb, she clenches around me so hard I nearly lose control.
Her second climax builds faster than the first, her walls beginning to flutter and pulse around my cock.
“Come,” I demand, driving into her relentlessly. My thumb presses harder against her clit, circling faster. “Now.”
Her body obeys, spasming around me as she screams my name.
Then she lurches forward and sinks her teeth into my shoulder—hard enough to break skin.
The sharp pain mixed with the crushing pleasure of her climax tears a groan from deep in my chest. I hold her tighter, thrust deeper, riding out her orgasm while she mewls and writhes beneath me.
The sensation of her inner muscles clamping down on me, pulsing in rhythm with her release, drags my own climax from somewhere deep in my gut.
I thrust once, twice more, then go still as I come hard enough for my vision to blur.
Wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me, my cock pulsing inside her as I empty myself.
For several moments, neither of us speaks. I can hear our rasping breathing, the distant sound of the house settling around us. My heart pounds against my ribs, harder than it’s beat in years.
I withdraw carefully, hissing at the sensitivity. I dispose of the condom and reach behind her to unbuckle the belt. Angry red marks circle her wrists where she strained against the leather. I brush my thumb over them, something uncomfortable tightening in my chest.
Guilt? Regret?
I don’t do those emotions. Can’t afford to.
“Did I hurt you?” The question escapes before I can stop it.
“No.” She flexes her hands, wincing slightly as circulation returns. “It was… intense.”
Intense. That’s one word for it.
I lie back, staring at the ceiling. What the fuck did I just do? I’ve crossed every line, broken every rule I set for myself. She’s my employee. She’s innocent—or was, before I got my hands on her. She’s a liability waiting to happen.
A loose end.
In my business, loose ends get tied up. Permanently.
That’s my life. That’s my world.
And I just dragged her into it.
But when she curls against my side tentatively, her head resting on my chest, something shifts inside me. Something I don’t want to acknowledge. Her breathing evens out, soft and steady against my skin. Trusting.
Stupid girl.
Doesn’t she know monsters don’t have hearts?
Doesn’t she know men like me destroy everything we touch?
I should push her away. Should end this now before it gets complicated. Before she becomes a target. Before my enemies figure out that she matters.
Because in my world, anything that matters is a weapon. A vulnerability. A way to break me.
I’m going down an unexpected path, and I’m certain I’m going to regret it.
But for now, I close my eyes and let myself pretend. Just for a moment. That I’m not the man who killed his brother. Who’s sent dozens of men to their graves. Who runs an empire built on fear and violence.
For now, I’m just a man with a woman in his bed.
Tomorrow, I’ll go back to being a monster.