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He flips me like a pancake and bends me over the edge of the dresser, face against the wood, hands bracing, legs wide.
He pounds into me again. And again. And again.
The sound is obscene - wet, slick, skin slapping skin - and I sob from the overload.
He pulls my hair, yanks my head back to growl in my ear.
“Try again.”
I try sass.
He answers with thrusts so deep I almost forget the alphabet.
“Look at you,” he pants. “Taking me. Loving it.”
“Technically, I tolerate you,” I tell him.
He kicks a chair out of the way. Just - boot to upholstery. I don’t even ask. I’m too far gone to care.
He lifts me from behind, legs jelly, arms shaking, and we make our final chaotic migration to the bed.
He drops me.
I bounce. He follows.
Thighs pinned open with his knees. Chest heaving. Cock harder than my life choices.
Lucian Vale is absolutely ruining me, and I am having the time of my damn life.
I’ve spent so long running from who I am - dodging instinct, dodging heat, dodging the whole alpha/omegabite me and ruin my life pipeline- and now, with Lucian pinning me to this bed like a man possessed, I genuinely cannot remember why I thought this wasn’t something I wanted.
He thrusts deep, brutal, like he’s trying to etch himself into my literal cervix.
“F-fuck -Lucian- ”
It’s not sex. It’s a siege. The kind where you don’t get out unless something’s broken. Possibly your soul. Probably the headboard.
He fucks me like he’s branding it into my memory.Every thrust deeper. Harder.More.
I call out his name like it’s salvation, and he groans like it hurts to want me this much - even while buried to the hilt inside me.
“Louder,” he commands.
Oh, cool. I didn’t know I was in an opera.
Either way, I oblige.
I scream his name like it’s my job and I’m trying to hit my sales quota. The headboard crashes into the wall as I wrap my legs tighter around his waist like a koala possessed.
My heels dig into his back, and I just about register that he’s going to have bruises -
And I’m not sorry.
Then, he stops. Pulls out. Just -gone.
Like my will to live after opening any of my social media.
I whine, full feral, halfway to biting him; but before I can protest fully, he flips me, shoving me face-down.