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But this is what she was promised for.

What she was given for.

And I willtake.

I drag my mouth along her throat, biting down just hard enough to make her whimper. Then I start to move, punching in long, deep strokes that force cries from her lips.

She clutches at me, overwhelmed, eyes shut like she’s blocking everything out. She can try, but I know she feels me from the inside out. Whatever innocence she had left, whatever fantasy she tried to cling to… I shatter it with every punishing thrust.

Every filthy, perfect drag of my cock inside her virgin body brings out another sob that I swallow on my tongue. It only makes me fuck her harder.

"That's it, my wicked little thing," I snarl into her ear, "cry for your Daddy."

And she does.

She cries and writhes and clutches at me like I'm the only thing tethering her to her body, until she's shaking beneath me, legs splayed open, pinned helpless to the mattress by the weight of my body and the force of my thrusts.

Tears leak from the corners of her eyes, and I catch one with my thumb, smearing it across her cheek. "Perfect," I mutter, voice breaking into a growl. "Fuckingperfect."

The cabin fills with the brutal sounds of our bodies colliding–flesh on flesh, her sweet whimpers, my ragged breathing, the creaking of the bed under my relentless rhythm. Her pussy clenches around me, hot and greedy, sucking me deeper with every stroke.

Takingme.

Acceptingme.

Unlike the ghosts of my past.

Her cries pitch higher as I angle my hips, grinding against a spot deep inside her that makes her scream, arch her back, and clutch at me with desperate little hands.

She's coming again, without permission, her whole body convulsing around my cock.

"That's it," I snarl against her mouth. "I want to feel you clench around me." I don't slow down. I fuck her through it,through her shaking climax, while chasing my own release. I'm losing control. The thin thread of restraint I've held all night is fraying, snapping. I sink my teeth into her throat without warning, biting down hard where the leather collar once was, marking her with a final, bleeding claim.

Mine, not theirs. Not Hexley.

Maddox.

Her blood fills my mouth, hot and coppery andours.

She moans, raw and broken and beautiful.

And that's when I break too.

I drive into her one final time, burying myself to the hilt, grinding against her as my cock jerks and spills inside her, claiming her in the oldest, darkest way a man can claim his wife. Holding her there, trembling, panting, our mouths locked together in a brutal, bloody kiss.

When I finally lift my head, her lashes flutter.

She's ruined.

Beautifully, completely ruined by me.

For a long moment, there is nothing but breath and the crackling of the fire. The aftermath of something I can never undo and will never risk again, which is why I stay buried deep inside her, her thighs trembling against my hips, feeling the way she clenches and spasms even now, and I brace for it, the tears. Silence. Maybe regret.

Instead, she laughs. A strange, fragile sound, curling out of her throat.

Arianette shifts underneath me, her soft, ruined body writhing as though she’s chasing more pain, more pleasure. She cups the back of my neck with shaking hands, pulling me down until our foreheads touch.

"It hurt.”