He kept the rhythm deep and relentless, every thrust hitting the same place, the friction building fast, until my legs trembled under me.
He palmed my ass—tight, then a sharp slap. Once. Then again. The sting snapped through the haze.
I turned my head toward the mirror. Even through the mask, I saw it in my eyes.
Gone.
Not embarrassed. Not holding back.
A woman who wanted it harder. Rougher. Dirtier.
A woman who didn’t care what it made her.
He twisted his hand in my hair, pulling my head to him. “Beg,” he breathed against my ear. “Beg me to let you come on my cock.”
A bolt of heat ripped up my spine—shame and need colliding into a desperate pull to give him whatever he wanted.
I clawed at his forearm, dragging in air that wouldn’t come, tears blurring my vision. I didn’t know if they were from the pain or pressure building inside me. I only knew I needed to please him. Needed him to let me break.
“Please,” I managed, the word crumbling in my mouth. “Please, let me come?—”
Luka closed a gloved hand around my throat, fingers pressing just enough to tell me who owned my air, my pulse, my very heartbeat. He turned my head so I was looking at my reflection again.
“Watch,” he ordered, driving into me harder. “See what you look like when I break you.”
The words, the pressure, the rhythm—everything crashed together.
“Don’t look away.” His words were a clamp. “You come with your eyes open, or you don’t come at all.”
I stared.
In the glass, the woman looking back was flushed, mouth open, eyes wide and wrecked with need. No restraint. Nothing held back.
The pleasure rippled up my legs, cinched behind my knees, then cascaded up my spine. The burn tightened and pulled, rising until my vision tunneled and my body locked. I broke open on a shuddering wail.
“Fuck, that’s it,” Luka growled, each thrust blurring the line between annihilation and bliss. “You come so hard for me—so fucking tight.” His voice sounded barely human, ragged against my ear. “God, you’re perfect.”
He didn’t slow for a second, using my body as if it was built for nothing else. Every inch of me was his.
“Now, fucking take it all.” Luka locked his hands on my hips, fingers digging bruises into the flesh. I was delirious, unable tostand, so he held me up and thrust into me, the full line of his body slamming me into the glass over and over.
He panted, guttural, losing the last shreds of composure. The rhythm devolved, hips pistoning in brutal staccato, desperate, until he let go with a snarl that was more animal than man. Luka thrust one final time, buried to the hilt, and shuddered hard as he came.
He stayed like that—twitching, spasming, fingers welded to my hips—until the tremors faded and the only thing holding me upright was the glass and the vise of his arms.
Then, close to my ear, rough and certain?—
“Mine.”
chapter
thirteen
Even with Luka’s trench coat cinched around my naked body, the knifing February night air hit me hard.
Luka opening hisfrontpassenger door for me hit me harder.
He didn’t say a word.