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My belly heats as he brings his lips to mine.

Everything I refuse to say hangs thickly in the air as he just hovers there, keeping that hairbreadth of distance between our mouths.

Our breaths mingle with every labored exhale, our words caught in our chests.

He remains like that, a hunter holding out a piece of bait, knowing the prey is going to eat right out of his hand.

And I’m the one who breaks first, who closes the distance and proves the truth he’s taunting me with, the fact he’s dangling in my face—that I can’t resist him.

The minute I’ve taken that leap, he’s no longer the patient hunter who’s flaunting his power over me.

He becomes wild. His instincts take over, like those of a predator who’s smelled blood.

His sole driving force becomes sinking his teeth into the meat that’s right under his nose, all his for the taking.

It cuts me a little that the kill has always been a foregone conclusion. Yet I don’t stop him when he chains my wrists in the iron grip of his huge hands and pins them above my head. I open my mouth for him, letting him a little deeper under my skin with every touch and every conquering caress.

He leans into me, his weight a secure anchor that wakes every nerve ending under my skin. The wall lights up around us, little sparks that buzz like fireflies in the background as he dominates my mouth and kisses me into submission.

My thoughts are all over the place, my head spinning with the delicious addictiveness of his touch.

I revel in being caught in his cage, wanting him to not only ravish but completely ruin me.

Even when he transfers both my wrists into one big hand and slides the other down my side to my hip, I don’t try to break free.

I stand quietly, chest fluttering and breaths heaving in the snare of his trap, willingly letting him devour me.

He bunches the fabric of my dress into his fist, pulling it up to my middle. Beneath, I’m naked and aching, ready for him.

His fingers find the truth; his lips growl an approval against my neck.

The nip of his teeth is going to leave a mark, but I’m beyond caring as he shoves a finger inside me.

I clench around him, willing him to take more.

He peppers my jaw with kisses and bites while stretching me until I finally submit to the unbearable pleasure that tightens my core under the onslaught of his hand.

At the same time, my inner muscles give for him, turning pliable and soft, as an invisible band squeezes around my pelvis.

“Aruan…”

I’m barely cognizant of speaking his name. Of moving. Of meeting the thrusts of the two fingers he plunges inside me. I let him keep me in the vise of his hands while he destroys me a little more with every wave of pleasure that exceeds the intensity of the previous one.

I moan when he deprives me of that destructive touch, mourning the delicious devastation it promised.

Keeping my wrists constrained, he wraps one arm around my middle and lifts me.

I lock my ankles behind his ass, keeping myself up with the support of the wall at my back as he lets my wrists go and works his pants open.

He angles my hips and keeps them in the position he wants with a bruising grip on the fleshy side of my ass cheek.

I’m close to breaking when he finally enters me.

He doesn’t go slowly or carefully. He takes me greedily and messily, a beautiful disaster of total possession and brutal pleasure.

His cock stretches me, his pummeling taking me to limits I shouldn’t be able to handle, but it feels right.

It feels as if I were born for this man and the carnal dance that walks a tightrope between pain and pleasure.

Keeping one hand on my ass, he slips the other between our bodies and brushes impatient fingers over my clit. I lean my head back and simply accept the sweet torture. A perverse part of me enjoys being this man’s prey. I’m his to tear apart, to rip limb from limb.

The orgasm doesn’t creep up on me with slow, languid pleasure like earlier.

This time, it detonates like fireworks in my belly.

He stops feathering my clit to splay his fingers around my neck, applying proprietorial pressure as he keeps me in place while finishing inside me.

He does so staring into my eyes, consuming me with his gaze and daring me to tell him no.

But I don’t.

I don’t tell him to stop.

I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I need to finish this too much. I need this—him—like food, water, and air.

He lets me ride out the aftershocks slowly, making me take every drop. A long time passes before he’s sated. And when he finally pulls out, his semi-hard cock already hardening for me again, victory glows in his eyes.

Because I let him.

I let him come inside me, the consequences left to run as terrifying and wild as our lust.

He kisses me tenderly before lowering me to my feet.

My knees are wobbly and my mind disoriented.

Our clothes disintegrate as if they never existed.

He tells me how proud he is of me, what a good girl I’ve been, and that he’s going to run me a bath and hold me in his arms for hours, his duties be damned.

He whispers praise and sweet nothings in my ear as he cradles me to his heart, but all I hear is the powerful roar of his silent victory in the air…

and the deafening defeat beating in my chest.