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“Fuck me,” I whisper, voice cracking. “Hard and filthy like you mean it.”

His eyes go molten.

“We need a condom,” he mutters, but I shake my head, mouth grazing his ear. I bite his lobe. “I want to feel you. Come inside me.”

He growls—a low, primal sound that vibrates through his chest. “That’s my little filthy princess.”

Then he grabs my panties and rips them in two—no hesitation, no care for the scraps. Then just tosses them aside.

“You’ll get new ones,” he mutters. “Not from you,” I tease.

“Baby, I’ll buy you a fucking drawer full.”

He lines himself up, popping his thick head in and out of my pussy till I’m unraveling, begging for more. I toss my head back, rolling my hips to meet him— juices sliding down his shaft. And in one long, wrecking thrust, he pounds into me, thrusting till I squeal for more.

“Liam—fuck.”

He groans like he’s unraveling. Then he starts to move—slow at first, then faster, harder, dragging me into every deep stroke.

His grip on my waist is possessive, his voice a rasp in my ear. “You feel that? That’s mine now.”

“Then take it,” I pant. “Take all of me.”

“Say my name.”

“Liam,” I moan. “Liam, don’t stop.”

“You think I could?” He grabs my chin, forcing our eyes to lock. “You think I’m letting anyone else have this pussy? Not a fucking chance.”

My orgasm crashes over me in waves, curling me forward, nails in his back, breath gone. I cry out, lost to it.

But he doesn't slow instead he fucks me through it, hot, wet, messy, chasing his own release, hips jerking, jaw clenched, then finally letting go. He groans my name as he spills inside me.

I collapse against him, both of us shaking, breathless, undone.

His hands on my back soothe and steady. I let myself sink into the warmth, the safety.

But the calm is temporary. Reality sneaks in like a thief.

I collapse against him, both of us breathing like we just ran headfirst through a war.

His hands roam my back, calming, anchoring.

And for a second, everything feels still. Like the outside world can’t touch us here.

But the high fades too fast.

And reality rushes back in.

I remember waking up alone that morning. The cold sheets. The panic.

I remember Griffin’s voice. His hands. His threats. His rules.

I remember all the times I’ve been told I’m too much. Too loud. Too emotional. Too inconvenient.

I remember shrinking to survive.

I bury my face in Liam’s neck, breathing him in—salt and sweat and safety.