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His hand slid slowly down her stomach—and in one swift, fluid motion, he pulled her up. Her upper body dropped onto the bed as her hips lifted into the air.

A sharp smack rang out as his hand came down hard on her ass, the sound echoing through the room.

She gasped. Shock, pain, arousal mixing into a dizzying rush.

Before she could recover, another slap landed on the other cheek. Not cruel—but hard enough to make her bite her lip and moan.

Lorenzo growled, massaging her skin after each strike, his hands rough and hungry.

She was too breathless to speak.

His hand wrapped around her throat from behind.

“Say it,” he demanded.

“I’m yours,” she whispered, voice trembling.

“Good girl,” he growled, biting down on her shoulder.

Then she felt the head of his shaft press against her soaked folds again—already hard, already ready for another round.

But this time, he didn’t thrust in.

He teased her, rubbing his cockhead through her slit, letting it drag over her swollen clit, smearing her own juices back over her skin. She whimpered, grinding her hips back, trying to make him enter her.

“No,” he said firmly. “You take what I give you. Nothing more.”

He slapped her ass again—harder this time—then grabbed her hips and drove into her in one deep, brutal stroke.

Krystal cried out, arms straining against the silk restraint, head thrown back as he started to pound into her mercilessly from behind.

His rhythm was punishing now. Rough. Controlled chaos.

Every thrust hit deep, every motion laced with dominance, with obsession. His hand slid around to grab her breast, squeezing hard, thumb flicking her nipple as her cries filled the room.

“You’re mine to fuck. Mine to break. Mine to please,” he growled, pulling her back onto his shaft again and again. “No one touches you. No one sees this body except me. Say it.”

“I’m yours!” she sobbed. “No one else. Just you—Lorenzo, please…”

He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back again, biting down on her neck, growling like a beast in heat.

His rod was slamming into her with such force the headboard was shaking. The restraint tightened with every thrust as she struggled to stay still. Her body was overwhelmed, desperate, overstimulated.

And then his fingers were between her legs again—rubbing her clit, fast and ruthless.

“Cum for me,” he ordered, voice harsh. “I want to feel you break.”

She screamed as her orgasm ripped through her. Explosive, and unbearable. Her legs shook, body spasming around him.

And that sent him over the edge.

With one final, violent thrust, Lorenzo came deep inside her, growling her name like a man possessed, like he was emptying every dark part of his soul into her.

He didn’t pull out.

He stayed inside her, chest pressed to her back, arms wrapped tight around her trembling form as they both collapsed against the bed.

Her wrists were still bound, her body soaked, marked, claimed in every possible way.