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"Rule?" she mumbles, confusion and lingering anger threading through her voice. "What are you—"

"Try again, darling," I purr, my voice low and dangerous.

She goes completely still. Recognition floods her eyes as she realizes it's me inside her. The anger shifts, transforms—becomes something darker, more primal.

"Ruin," she breathes, and it sounds like a curse and a prayer.

Her hips roll against me, no longer resisting. "Don't stop," she whispers, voice raw. "Fuck me. Please. Make me forget it all, just for a moment."

I growl, something feral and possessive breaking loose inside me. It doesn’t want to be gentle. It fills me with pure, unrestrained need.

I grip her hips and start to move—harder. Faster. Each thrust a violent claim, the steel piercings dragging against her most sensitive spots. She arches beneath me, crying out as I fuck her with a ruthlessness she's never seen from me.

I brace a hand above her head and keep the other locked around her thigh, pinning it up so I can thrust deeper, harder, pounding her into the mattress with the force of everything I’ve held back for too fucking long.

She doesn’t ask for tenderness. She doesn’t beg me to slow. She doesn’t flinch or cry.

Shetakes it.

Takesme.

And fuck, I swear I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than the way her body surrenders even as her eyes burn like they want to murder me. She’s still pissed. Still furious about Rule’s reveal. But right now? That fury is all tangled up in lust, all mixed into the haze of me slamming into her, dragging the sound of my name from her throat like it’s been trapped there all along.

“More,” she gasps, nails clawing at the sheets as I drive my hips forward with brutal precision. “Fuck—don’t stop. Don’t youdarestop.”

I don't.

Because I know what she needs.

Not comfort. Not apologies. She needs to bewrecked.She needs the truth rewritten on her skin.

And I do it with every filthy, obsessive thrust.

One of her hands rises, reaching blindly for my face, but I don’t let her unmask me. I catch her wrist, pin it to the mattress.

“Not yet,” I whisper. “You’re not ready.”

Not ready for what I look like. For who Iamunderneath the armor and devotion and years of watching her life unfold like prophecy.

I roll my hips deeper, harder, making her breath hitch. I feel her start to shake beneath me, that telltale tension tightening her, her orgasm building fast and feral. Her pussy clamps down on me with each thrust, fluttering tight, and the sound she makes when I thrust in again—fuck, it’sdivine.

I lean down, my mask brushing against the sweat-slick curve of her cheek, the lenses of my tactical glasses close enough to reflect her wrecked expression as I bury my cock deeper than she’s ever taken me before.

Her moan is ragged, broken,perfect.

I keep fucking her like that—unrelenting. My full weight behind every thrust, the piercings rubbing across every nerve ending inside her. I feel her break apart again and again beneath me. Her cunt tightens around me like she’s trying to trap me inside, and maybe that’s what I want too—because I’m not going anywhere.

I want her bred and fucked open. I want her soaked in us, wrecked and shaking and so thoroughly claimed by us that the thought of anyone else makes hersick.

I pull out just long enough to flip her onto her stomach, drag her hips back, and slam into her again. She screams into the pillow and it’s not from pain—it’s fromrelease.

Because no one fucks her like this but us.

No one worships and destroys her in the same breath like we do.

The wet sound of my cock fucking into her echoes through the room as I lose myself in the rhythm of her. She’s soaked and pulsing, her body greedy for every inch I give her.

And when her third orgasm crashes through her, her whole body seizing, I press in andstaythere—cock throbbing deep, stretching her wide, grinding down as I groan and spill deeply inside her.