Page 67 of Breaking Ophelia

I hold her there, pressed to the tree, and wait for the next move.

The sun crests the horizon, pale and gold.

Time’s up.

I unzip, cock hard and aching, and line myself up with her.

She sees it, eyes going wide.

But she doesn’t move.

She just braces herself, opening her thighs for me.

And I know, in that second, she’s already mine.

I press the head to her, let her feel it.

She shakes, but holds my gaze.

I thrust in, hard and fast.

Her nails rake down my back, finding the old cuts and new ones, leaving her own. I grind my hips in, deeper, and she wails, a sound that’s part pain, part defiance. Her teeth snap at my jaw. She bites before moaning, her teeth unclenching as she sucks.

I pin her arms again, wrists crossed over her head, and slam her into the trunk with every thrust. The bark shreds her skin, but she doesn’t beg. She just opens her mouth in a little ‘o’ and meets every drive with a twist of her own.

We’re not making love. We’re making war.

My cock throbs inside her, every inch of me desperate to claim, to mark, to own. I want to hollow her out and fill her up until there’s nothing left but the echo of my name in her blood.

She sobs, but there’s no weakness in it. If anything, it’s beautiful. The sound of her allowing me in.

I cup her chin, squeeze until her mouth pops open, then fuck the words out of her.

“You hate me?” I say, breathless.

She nods, lips slick with spit and blood.

“Say it.”

Her voice is shredded, almost gone. “I hate you. I hate you I hate—”

I shut her up with a hand over her mouth, pounding into her harder, the rhythm raw and merciless. The tree shakes behind us, leaves raining down like confetti.

Julian watches from the edge, hands folded, face a study in polite disinterest. But his eyes are alive, burning with a secret hunger. The others are further out, but I know they can see, can hear the animal sounds we make as I ruin her.

I can’t look away from her face. The way her eyes roll back, then snap to mine, pleading for something she won’t name. The wayher lips fight against my hand, desperate for air or words or both.

I ease up, just a fraction, and she gasps, sucking in air like a drowning thing.

“Please,” she whimpers, but I don’t know if it’s a plea to stop or to keep going.

I wipe the tears off her cheeks, thumb soft on her skin.

“Say you’re mine.”

Finally…finally, she chokes the words out.

“I’m yours, Cai… I’m yours,” and I fuck her harder as they settle in my gut.