Page 27 of Claimed By the Masked BRATVA

When I break away, her lips are swollen, her breath ragged, her eyes glassy. Perfect.

“Congratulations,” I murmur, low enough for only her. “Now I’m taking you home.”

The ride back is a blur of restraint I barely manage. She sits beside me, clutching the award, cheeks pink, trying to gather herself. I watch her. The way her thighs press together. The way her pulse jumps in her throat when she catches me staring.

She knows what’s coming.

By the time we step into the house, I’ve lost patience. The door barely clicks shut before I spin her into the wall, the award clattering onto the table. My mouth crashes down on hers, and my hands rip at her dress, fabric tearing under my fingers.

“Sebastian—” she gasps, but it’s not protest. It’s plea.

“You stood there today and let them look at you,” I growl against her lips, shoving the ruined dress down her arms. “Let them clap and whisper, like they had a right.”

Her bra falls away. I palm her breasts, hard, greedy. She moans, her nails raking down my chest.

“But they don’t,” I snarl, sliding my hand between her thighs, finding her already soaked. “They’ll never have a right. Only me.”

Her head falls back against the wall, a broken sound spilling from her throat. “Only you.”

That’s all I need.

I hoist her up, her legs locking around my waist, her bare skin hot against mine. I free my cock, throbbing and aching, and slam into her in one brutal thrust. She screams my name, her nails biting into my shoulders.

“Yes,” I groan, grinding deep, bottoming out in her tight, wet heat. “That’s where you belong. Stuffed full of me.”

I fuck her hard, the wall rattling with every thrust. She cries out with each stroke, her body clenching around me, milking me, begging me.

“Do you feel that?” I snarl, pounding into her. “My cock inside you. My seed filling you. That’s how you’ll carry me everywhere you go. Every award, every lecture, every goddamn step, you’ll be full of me.”

Her orgasm rips through her, violent and unstoppable. She shudders, convulsing, screaming my name until it echoes through the house. Her body clamps down so tight it drags me with her, my climax tearing out of me in a roar.

I spill inside her, grinding deep, holding her pinned against the wall until I’m sure she takes every drop.

When it’s over, I press my face into her neck, panting, still buried in her. She clings to me, trembling, wrecked.

“You belong to me,” I whisper, kissing the damp skin at her throat. “Not the academy. Not the world. Me.”

Her voice is faint but steady. “Yours.”

Always.

I carry her upstairs, still inside her, her head resting on my shoulder. She’s too dazed to argue, too content to resist. Tomorrow, the world will keep clapping, keep talking, keep pretending it understands her brilliance.

But tonight, she’s mine.

And it’s time I breed her again and again until there’s no part of her that doesn’t know it.