Scarlett #2
“Good girl,” he rasps, eyes burning down into mine like he wants to brand me there. “Taste what you do for me. Taste how fucking desperate you are for me.”
My throat convulses, shame blistering every nerve as he presses his fingers deeper, until I gag around them, choking on the slick proof of my betrayal.
His forehead presses to mine, his words breaking, filthy and tender at once:
“You’ll never hide from me, Scar. Not your body. Not your taste. Not a single fucking thing.”
He finally pulls his fingers from my mouth, saliva and slick stringing between us. I gasp, chest heaving, thinking for one second the torment is over—
—but then his wet hand is sliding down my throat, smearing everything across my skin, leaving a hot, filthy trail that makes me shiver in shame. He drags lower, over the hollow of my collarbone, between my breasts, slow enough that I know he’s savouring the humiliation.
“Kai…” My voice cracks, trembling, but he only smirks, his eyes locked on mine like he’s peeling me open inch by inch.
His soaked fingers slip under the band of my jeans, finding the heat between my thighs again, still sticky from his first assault. He doesn’t ask. He doesn’t hesitate. He shoves them back inside me with a brutal thrust, burying the mess he just made me taste.
“Feel that?” he growls against my ear. “That’s you. That’s all you. And you’re going to take every drop, every second, until you admit you’re mine.”
I choke on a sob, legs trembling, caught between wanting to scream and wanting to beg him to never stop.
His fingers drive into me again, slow, deliberate, knuckles pressing so deep I can feel the stretch burn. I gasp, clawing at his shoulders, but he pins me tighter against the wall like he’s nailed me there, his palm grinding down until my hips are bucking helplessly.
The wet sound fills the silence between us, obscene and humiliating, and every thrust is slower than the last, like he’s measuring exactly how far he can push before I snap. My head tips back against the plaster, eyes burning, shame and heat knotting in my chest.
“Kai—” It’s a broken whisper, nothing more.
He bites my jaw, snarling, “Don’t you dare cum.” His fingers curl just right, cruel, and I scream against his mouth, every nerve sparking. “Not until I say. You’ll ride the edge for me, Scar. You’ll beg me for it.”
I sob, writhing, my body shaking so violently it feels like it might tear itself apart. My thighs are slick, my jeans pushed halfway down, his wrist grinding where I’m already drenched.
“Kai, please,” I gasp, choking on the words, “I can’t—”
He shoves harder, curling, twisting, his thumb circling cruel patterns over the ache he knows I can’t ignore. “You can. You will. You’re going to break for me right here, and you’re going to like it.”
Every muscle in me is screaming for release, but he keeps me dangling, trembling, a wreck against him—every filthy thrust designed to destroy without giving.
The word please is still on my lips when his control breaks.
His fingers, so cruel a second ago, drive mercilessly deep, twisting and grinding, every thrust faster, harder, until I’m screaming into his shoulder.
My body shatters, the release tearing through me so violently I don’t even realise I’m crying until his mouth is at my ear, groaning low, guttural, like my sobs are feeding him.
I claw at him, clinging, riding the flood of sensation as he forces me through it, not easing, not stopping, dragging me into another wave until my thighs spasm around his wrist. Shame burns through the pleasure, but I can’t stop—I’m breaking against his hand, wet and ruined.
“Kai,” I sob, his name ripped from me like a confession, my voice hoarse.
He growls, teeth scraping my neck. “That’s it. Break for me. Don’t you ever hold back from me again.”
My vision whites out, trembling so hard I can barely breathe, every nerve singing, every muscle limp, as he wrings the last of my strength out of me with those filthy, relentless fingers.
I think it’s over. I think he’ll let me breathe.
But his fingers never leave me.
He curls them deeper, his palm grinding cruelly against me, dragging another scream out of my raw throat.
My body jerks, begging for mercy I don’t have words for, because he won’t let me speak.
His mouth is on my jaw, swallowing every sound like it belongs to him, his breath hot and ragged while mine is shattered.
“Don’t fight it,” he growls, and I can feel his smile against my skin when I thrash, when I cry. “You begged me to replace him, Scar. That means you’re mine to ruin.”
Another wave slams into me, harder, dirtier, ripping through nerves that should be numb but aren’t—he won’t let them be. He presses harder, circles sharper, relentless until I’m sobbing in humiliation at how easy it is for him to tear me apart again.
“Look at you,” he whispers, voice almost reverent, almost broken. “Soaking my hand. Shaking all over me. Pathetic little liar.”
I choke on a sob. “I can’t—”
“Yes, you can. And you will. Until I decide you’ve had enough.”
He thrusts faster, meaner, his thumb pinning my clit like he’s punishing me for even daring to think of stopping, and the world dissolves. Pleasure burns through my veins until I’m clawing at his shoulders, begging wordlessly, drowning in everything he’s forcing out of me.
And he doesn’t stop. Not when I scream, not when I collapse, not when my body begs for escape. He just keeps me there, wrung out and ruined, writhing on his hand until all I can do is sob his name like a prayer.
I can’t take it. I can’t—
The thought shatters as he doesn’t slow, doesn’t relent.
His hand is a weapon, merciless, thrusting and curling, wringing scream after scream out of me while my body convulses against him.
The orgasm rips through me again, raw and unbearable, and before the tremors can fade he’s grinding me straight into the next.
I’m sobbing into his chest, nails dragging uselessly down his shirt, my pleas strangled between gasps. “Stop, I can’t—please, Kai, I can’t—”
“Shut up,” he growls into my hair, the vibration of his voice as rough as his fingers inside me. “You can. You will. You’re mine, and I’ll take every single fucking drop you’ve got to give.”
My thighs twitch, hips jerk, as another wave crashes through me, so sharp it almost feels like pain. I scream his name, broken, and he clamps his other hand over my mouth to catch it, forcing me to choke on the sound as my body drowns in it.
Every nerve is raw, every sob is soaked in shame and want. I can’t fight him. I don’t even want to anymore.
And still he doesn’t stop.
I’m nothing but wreckage in his hands, sobs clawing out of me as my body shudders, twitching from the aftershocks. I can’t hold myself up anymore, but he doesn’t care—he fists a hand in my hair and drags me upright, tearing me away from the mattress even as my knees buckle.
“Look at you,” he rasps against my ear, breath hot and cruel, chest pressed into my spine so I feel every hard line of him pinning me in place.
His hand is still between my thighs, slick and merciless, and he drags his wet fingers up over my stomach, smearing me with my own mess.
“You’re shaking like a pathetic little slut, and you still want more, don’t you? ”
I choke on a sob, head falling back against his shoulder, eyes glassy in the dim light. “N-no—”
He laughs, low and guttural, his mouth brushing my jaw as he bites down, just hard enough to make me flinch.
“Liar. You’re dripping down my fingers. Your body can’t stop begging even when your mouth says no.
” His voice cuts like a blade, soft and filthy all at once.
“This is what you wanted, Scar. To be broken. To be mine. Say it.”
My lips tremble, my throat tight, but all I can manage is another broken sob. His grip only tightens, his teeth scraping my skin as he breathes, “Say it before I make you cum again until you can’t even remember your own name.”
“No,” I bite out, shaking, the word tearing through my raw throat. My nails dig into his wrist where he’s holding me, but it’s useless—he’s stronger, always stronger. “I don’t want this. I don’t want you.”
His laugh is dark, cracked with something wicked, vibrating against the shell of my ear.
He drags his slick fingers higher, smearing my wetness up my stomach until it stains the lace of my bra.
“Don’t want me?” His lips curl into a snarl as he presses his cock hard into the curve of my ass, making me feel just how ready he is.
“Then why are you soaking me, Scar? Why are you crying on my hand while your thighs beg to stay open?”
I thrash once, twice, but the more I fight, the more he pins me, the more heat spirals low in my stomach. My body betrays me, trembling with desperate need I can’t hide.
“I said no,” I spat, venom cracking through the tears streaming down my cheeks.
He twists my chin cruelly so I’m staring at him in the mirror, my face a wreck of mascara and sweat, his hand still working between my thighs, relentless.
“No?” His eyes burn mine alive. “Baby, every drop dripping down my hand says yes. Every little sob out of that pretty mouth says yes. And I’m going to keep using you until you admit what you really are. ”
He slides those filthy fingers back down, pressing harder, circling with ruthless precision, his teeth dragging over my throat as he whispers, “Mine.”
It tears out of me like a scream, like something breaking clean in half. My “no” dissolves, swallowed by the sob that rips through my chest, and before I can stop myself I’m twisting, clawing at him, pressing down against the hard, aching length straining his jeans.
I grind. Hard. Filthy. Shameless.