Thor's expression doesn't change, but something shifts in his stare—approval, maybe, or recognition. He reaches for my hand, his calloused palm engulfing mine.
“You're stronger than you think. Most people would be falling apart right now.”
“Who says I'm not?” I try to smile, but it feels brittle. “I'm terrified, Thor. Not just of Terrance, but of how easy it is to sit here and talk about...” I can't finish the sentence.
“Violence,” he supplies. “Revenge. Justice. Whatever you want to call it.”
I nod, unable to meet his eyes. “What does that make me?”
“Human.” His thumb traces circles on my wrist, “There's nothing wrong with wanting your tormentor to suffer, Charlotte. Nothing wrong with wanting to be free, whatever it takes.”
Free. When was the last time I felt truly free? Not since before I met Terrance, that's for sure. Maybe not ever.
I find myself moving without thinking, closing the distance between us on the couch. The need for comfort, for connection. For something to drown out the horror.
“Charlotte—” he starts, but I'm already climbing onto his lap, my knees on either side of his powerful thighs, my hands finding his bare shoulders.
When my mouth finds his, he freezes for a second. His hands seize my waist, fingers digging into my skin like he can’t decide whether to pull me closer or push me away. I press harder, giving him no room to choose. I need this. Need him.
He tastes like something I should stay away from, but can’t. His kiss is consuming. For a moment, he lets me take the lead, lets me lose myself in him. I pour every tremor, every ounce of fear and fury from the past few days into that kiss, and little by little, the tension in my chest starts to fade.
Then it shifts.
His grip tightens, anchoring me to him. He tears his mouth from mine with a shaky breath, the space between us charged and electric. His forehead rests against mine, and I feel him trying to steady himself.
“This isn’t what you need right now. You’re upset. You’re scared. I don’t want to take advantage of that.”
“Don’t.” My fingers slide across his shoulder and down his chest, tracing the edge of a tattoo I’ve stared but never touched until now. His heart pounds beneath my palm, fast and hard like mine. “Don’t tell me what I need. I already know.”
For a moment, I think he’ll pull away completely. He’s looking for something. A sign that I know what I’m doing. But there’s nothing left in me but this moment. This need.
“Maybe I don’t want what’s good for me,” I whisper, brushing my lips against his again. “Maybe I just want you.”
That’s all it takes.
Whatever restraint he was holding onto snaps. His hands slide down, gripping my hips and dragging me against him. I feel how hard he is through his jeans. The heat between my thighs flares, sharp and immediate.
His mouth finds mine again, fiercer this time. Desperate. Claiming. His teeth catch my bottom lip before his tongue meets mine, and a soft sound slips from my throat.
“If it gets to be too much,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my lips, “if at any point you want to stop, you have your safe word. No explanations. Just say the word.”
A quiet promise that no matter how far we go, I’ll still have control.
“Say it, sweetheart.”
“Zip-line.”
He studies me for another beat, and whatever he sees convinces him. His jaw tightens. Then he lifts me, hands sure and strong, carrying me toward the bed.
There’s still fear in the back of my mind. The knowledge of what waits beyond this room. Of who is coming for me. But right now, none of that matters.
Right now, I just want to feel something that’s mine.
That’s all it takes.
Thor crashes into me, mouth fierce and hungry. His hands are rough and possessive, tangling in my hair, sliding under my shirt, gripping my thighs hard enough to leave bruises. Then he’s moving, lifting me like I weigh nothing. My legs wrap around his waist, my core grinding against the thick ridge straining through his jeans.
He doesn’t stop. Just slams the bedroom door open with his foot, the crash echoing behind us. Then my back hits the wall, and his mouth is on my neck, teeth dragging across skin too sensitive skin. I gasp, digging my nails into his shoulders as he sucks and bites like he wants to mark me everywhere.
