Chapter 1
I felt him before I saw him.
His gaze wasn’t just a look—it was a violation. A slow, deliberate strip-tease of my soul, as if he already knew the way my thighs trembled when he was near, the way my breath hitched when his shadow fell across my path. His eyes were black fire, tracing the curve of my hips, the swell of my tits, the damp heat between my legs. Obscene. And yet, my body wept for him.
He was everywhere after that. A shadow at the edge of my vision, a presence that turned the air thick, electric. Tall, all muscle and golden skin, like some fallen Greek god carved from marble and sin. His beard was rough, just past stubble, and I hated how much I wanted to feel it scraping against my inner thighs.
This is wrong.
This is dangerous.
But my pussy didn’t give a damn.
The night air clung to my skin, my dress riding up just enough to tease. I was on my way to meet friends, but the city had other plans. He had other plans.
Footsteps. Too close.
A presence. Too deliberate.
My pulse turned into a drumbeat of fuck, fuck, fuck—but not the kind that meant stop.
I could feel his eyes on me, heavy and hungry, like a touch I couldn’t shake. I quickened my pace, but it was too late.
A hand clamped around my wrists, yanking them behind my back and pinning them there with brutal force. Before I could scream, I was shoved into the shadows of an alley, my back slamming against the cold brick wall. His body pressed into mine, trapping me, his breath hot against my ear.
My breath hitched.
Frozen.
“You’ve been teasing me for weeks,” he growled, his voice like gravel and sin. “Did you think I’d let you get away with it?”
And then his mouth was on my neck, his teeth grazing my skin as his free hand slid up my thigh, his fingers already claiming what he’d come for.
I should’ve been terrified. But the way he looked at me—like he wanted to devour me—sent a pulse of heat straight to my core. My panties were already soaked, my nipples hard against the thin fabric of my dress.
His fingers were rough as they yanked the fabric aside, his touch possessive, claiming. “Fuck,” he groaned, his thumb circling my clit with brutal precision. “You’re dripping for me.”
I whimpered, my hips arching into his touch. He was right. I was. Every glance, every stolen moment of his attention, had built this—this aching, desperate need.
His fingers tore my panties aside, and then he was inside me—two fingers, stretching, claiming. “This cunt’s mine,” he snarled. “Say it.”
I couldn’t. Not with words. But my body screamed it for me, my hips bucking against his hand, my pussy begging for more.
He didn’t let me recover. His lips were at my neck, his voice a dark promise.
"That’s my good girl,” he purred, but there was nothing gentle in it. “My perfect little slut.”
His mouth crashed onto mine, his tongue fucking my lips like he owned them. And when he finally pulled his fingers out, I came with a cry, my body clenching around nothing, my mind a haze of yes, yes, more.
He didn’t let me recover. His lips were at my ear, his voice a dark vow. “Now you’re mine. And I’m gonna fuck you like the toy you are.”
And God help me—I loved it.
His hand was already on his belt before I could even breathe.
The alley was dark, the air thick with the scent of rain and something feral—him. His eyes burned into mine, black with hunger, as his fingers fumbled with his zipper. The sound of it—the rasp of metal, the rough shuffle of fabric—sent a jolt of heat straight to my core.
“You’ve been begging for this,” he growled, his voice rough, commanding. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, the tip already glistening. My mouth went dry. My pussy ached.
Before I could protest—before I could think—he had my panties shoved aside, his grip bruising on my hip. “Mine,” he snarled, and then he was inside me. One brutal thrust, stretching me open, filling me so completely I saw stars.
“Fuck—” His breath was ragged against my ear, his hips slamming into mine with a rhythm that was punishing. “So tight. So fucking wet for me.” His fingers dug into my flesh, holding me in place as he took what he wanted.
No gentleness.
No hesitation.
Just raw, animal need.
I should’ve stopped him. Should’ve fought.
But God, the way he owned me—
The way his cock pounded into me, hitting that spot deep inside that made my toes curl—
The way his dirty words dripped into my ear like poison—
“That’s it, take it. Take my cock, you greedy little slut.”
I came with a cry, my nails raking down his back, my body clenching around him like I was trying to keep him. He groaned, his thrusts turning erratic, his grip tightening as he buried himself to the hilt. “Gonna fill you up,” he grunted. “Gonna make sure you remember who you belong to."
