FERAL

The man who asked permission is gone. In his place is a predator that’s stopped pretending...all teeth, heat, and raw, animal intent.

He doesn’t touch me anymore, he possesses.

His hands are a language of blunt force, bruising my hips with a hunger that demands total surrender. There is no rhythm, only a dark, thrumming pulse that forces me to unravel. I am a frantic animal, my body answering his filth before my mind can even process the violation.

He doesn’t take, he consumes.

The world is reduced to the salt of his skin and the sharp, metallic heat of his teeth sinking into the hollow of my neck, marking me as his own. He tastes like woodsmoke and heavy, primal lust...a thick, cloying weight I’m forced to swallow until I’m gasping for air against the sheer, suffocating scale of him.

I am drowning in a dark intoxication where being his prize, his prey, is the only thing that feels real.

He holds me over the ledge of my own sanity, his fingers buried deep and his gaze fixed on my face as my eyes roll back into a blind, white heat. The friction slips and catches in uneven pulls that grind against my core until I am nothing but a raw, pulsing ache. He waits for the exact moment my breath hitches and my walls begin to fail...then he thrusts into the very center of me, a final, devastating impalement that sends me over the edge into a violent, breathless euphoria.

When it breaks, it’s sweet destruction...messy, carnal, and absolute. The sound of lungs failing and skin burning. I am hollowed out, my entire existence swallowed by the gravity of his thrusts. There is no mercy, only the animal.

He stays in the ruin.

He remains buried deep in the wreckage he’s made, his hands still moving, possessive, heavy, and cruel, as he traces the tremors in my thighs to keep the fire from going out.

I am his territory. I lie there stripped down to nothing but breath and pulse and the echo of his primal heat. My breath coming in broken, jagged hitches, knowing that if he looked at me like that again, I’d crawl back onto his blade and beg once more for the edge.

M.