Chapter Four #3
He pushes in, slow and steady, and I cry out at the intrusion, at the burn of being stretched around him. He’s big, bigger than I expected. I feel every inch of him claiming me, filling me, until he’s seated to the hilt and I’m panting, adjusting, my nails digging into his shoulders.
“Fuck,” he grits out, his forehead pressed against mine. “You’re so tight. So perfect. You feel like you were made for me.”
He starts to move, slow thrusts that gradually build in speed and intensity. The pain fades into something else. It’s electric and overwhelming, building with every stroke. He shifts his angle, and suddenly he’s hitting some place that makes my vision go white at the edges.
I moan aloud, my legs wrapping around his waist to pull him deeper.
“That’s it,” he praises, his voice rough. “Take me. Take all of me. You’re mine, Freckles. Say it.”
“Yours,” I gasp, arching to meet his thrusts. “R-Rraiden, I’m yours, please…”
He pounds into me then, losing the last of his control, and it’s intense and claiming—exactly what I needed. The bed creaks beneath us, the sound of our bodies meeting filling the room, and I feel another orgasm building, coiling tight in my belly.
“Come with me,” he demands, his hand moving between us to find my clit, rubbing in tight circles that make me see stars. “I want to feel you squeeze my cock when you come. Want to fill you up, mark you inside and out…”
The words push me over the edge. I come hard, screaming his name, my body clamping down on him in waves that seem to go on forever. He follows seconds later, burying himself to the hilt, groaning long and low as he spills inside me, hot and wet and claiming.
After, he doesn’t pull away immediately. He stays inside me, softening but still present, and presses kisses to my forehead, my eyelids, the corner of my mouth.
“Mine,” he murmurs again.
I feel it in the ache between my legs, the tenderness of my skin, the way he’s looking at me like I’m precious and his.
He withdraws finally, and I whimper at the loss.
But he’s already moving, gathering me in his arms, carrying me into the bathroom.
He sets me on the counter and runs the shower until steam fogs the mirror.
Then, he lifts me in with him and washes me himself, unhurried, like it’s part of the sex and not something that comes after it.
I let him. I’m too wrecked to do anything else.
When he’s done, he dries me off and gently tucks me back into bed, sliding in beside me and pulling me against his chest.
“I meant what I said,” he whispers into my hair. “No going back. You’re mine now, Elodie. In every way that matters.”
I drift off to sleep with his heartbeat beneath my cheek, his arms around me, and for the first time since I lost my parents, I feel truly safe.
???
Sunday evening, I turn to kiss Raiden deeply, desire humming through my body. I slowly end the kiss. “I’ll see you on Wednesday for our dinner date,” I murmur against his lips before pulling back.
Raiden releases me reluctantly. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” he asks again.
“No. I’m fine, Raiden. See you later.”
He presses another deep kiss on my lips before letting me go. As I walk out of the building, my mind wanders to the past days I’ve spent with Raiden. It was a blissful weekend with tons of sex. My body hums as I think about how wet I get from his words alone.
We laughed and talked, and now I can’t begin to imagine a future without Raiden.
Sometimes, he asks about Drake. At first, I was scared he knew I was being harassed by him, but he quickly explained that he sees him around the school.
And since Drake is notorious for being a troublemaker, he wondered why he was hanging around there.
I explained that his son is a student in my class.
During those conversations, I see a glimpse of the dangerous edge that Raiden conceals.
The flash of violence that crosses his face whenever he mentions Drake.
I’ve always sensed some sort of dangerous side, but it seems it’s darker, more potent than I thought.
Although he has an air of danger surrounding him, I’ve never been scared of him. He acts so tender and possessive with me that I wonder if I’m hallucinating. I reach my apartment, and I hum quietly as I unlock my door.
The smile vanishes the instant I step inside. The living room is destroyed. Drawers hang open. Books litter the floor, with pages torn. Picture frames lie shattered beneath broken glass. The lamp beside the couch has been smashed.
My favorite quilt, the one my mother made before she died, has been slashed down the middle.
“No…”
My voice comes out as a whisper. My heart pounds as I stumble farther inside. Who would do this? Why? Then I see them. A bouquet of wilted red roses lies in the middle of the room. The flowers have been trampled into the carpet.
Drake.
A cold wave of fear crashes over me. Did he do this because I rejected him? Did he see me with Raiden? Or was this always going to happen? My hands shake so badly as I pull out my phone, nearly dropping it. There’s only one person I want.
I press Raiden’s name and lift the phone to my ear, praying he picks up quickly.