Raven's POV :
His body caged mine like a shadow I couldn't outrun.
The air between us was molten—thick with tension, sex, and war. My wrists were bound above my head, tied tight with his belt to the headboard, my pulse pounding in sync with the wild beat of something deeper than lust.
He was above me,eyes dark with fury and something hungrier—obsession.
"Ty igraesh' s ognëm, babochka…" he growled low, voice curling around my throat like smoke. You're playing with fire.
I smirked—blood still hot from the club, skin buzzing from champagne and spite.
"Then burn me," I whispered.
His hand fisted in my hair before I could breathe.
Hard.
Controlling.
Delicious.
He yanked my head back, baring my throat to him like a beast marking its territory. My breath hitched—god, I hated how much I loved it.
"Be a good girl, babochka…" he rasped against my skin, lips brushing the spot below my jaw before sinking in. "Or I'll show you what nothing really feels like."
I arched against him, hips writhing—needing him, hating him, craving him.
His mouth trailed lower—biting, sucking, claiming. Hickeys bloomed like dark flowers across my collarbone, his tongue soothing the sting with heat. Every mark a warning.
He pressed a knee between my thighs, parting them with brute force, and I gasped when I felt the pressure. There was no gentleness in him—only dominance. A ruthless kind of love that stripped you bare.
"Is this what you wanted?" he hissed. "To be manhandled like a s*ut? To be fucked on every surface until you forget your own name?"
His palm slammed against my inner thigh—loud, sharp, claiming. I whimpered.
"One word, Raven," he growled. "One word and I'll stop."
I met his eyes. "Don't you dare."
He smirked. Dark. Dangerous.
"Good girl."
Then he flipped me.
Rough hands dragged me to the edge of the bed, chest pressed into sheets, ass arched high in the air.
Snap.
The belt uncoiled.
"You want to act like a brat?" he said, voice feral, dragging the leather across the curve of my ass. "Then I'll treat you like one."
Crack.
The first smack landed.
I gasped—heat blooming under my skin, a wicked kind of sting. I could still feel the outline of his palm when he leaned in and whispered:
"Count."
"One," I hissed.
Crack.
"Two."
"That's my girl," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the burning skin before biting it.
Another strike—harder. My thighs trembled.
"Three!"
He grabbed my hips, dragging me back until I could feel the thick press of him against my entrance.
"I should ruin you for this," he muttered, breath harsh, hands gripping me so tight I knew I'd bruise. "But you want to be ruined, don't you, babochka?"
"Yes," I gasped. "God, yes—"
He didn't wait.
He drove into me in one savage thrust, tearing a moan from my throat so loud the walls shook.
"Fuck, Raven," he groaned. "You're so goddamn tight…"
His pace was brutal.
Every stroke punished me.
Praised me.
Every drag of his c*ck was a declaration of war.
His fingers tangled in my hair again, yanking my head back so my spine arched like a bow, exposing my throat.
He bit down—hard—his other hand splayed across my stomach, dragging me back against every brutal thrust.
"You belong to me," he growled. "Say it."
"I—fuck—Kairus—"
He slammed into me again, and I cried out.
"Say. It."
"I belong to you!" I gasped.
"Louder."
"I FUCKING BELONG TO YOU! "
He released my hair and flipped me again, mouth crashing onto mine—biting, claiming, devouring. His hands pinned mine above my head again, wrists still raw from the belt.
His lips dragged down my body—my throat, my breasts, my stomach—teeth grazing, sucking, marking.
His tongue flicked my nipple, then he bit—hard enough to make me jolt.
"Such a dirty mouth," he murmured, licking the sting. "But look at you now. So fucked out. So desperate."
I moaned as his hand slipped between my thighs.
"You're soaking," he said, voice dark with satisfaction. "All from being used. From being owned."
I clenched around him as he thrust again—slower now, deeper.
My nails raked down his back, leaving red trails. He growled, loving the pain.
"You'll wear my marks, Raven," he whispered against my mouth. "You'll feel me every time you walk."
He reached down, rubbing slow circles where I needed him most.
My body spiraled.
Tension burned in my belly.
"Cum for me," he ordered, biting my shoulder. "Be a good girl, babochka…"
And I broke.
Back arched. Toes curled. Vision blurred.
I came hard, his name a scream torn from my throat like prayer and sin.
He didn't stop.
He fucked me through it, chasing his own high, teeth clenched, sweat dripping from his brow.
And then—with one final, brutal thrust—he buried himself deep and roared my name.
Raven.
Like it was salvation.
Like it meant everything.
I barely caught my breath.
My body still trembled—wrung out, marked, and aching in the most delicious way possible. My wrists were free now, but they tingled with the memory of leather. My thighs still quivered from the rough edge of his grip, and my lips… God, they were swollen from the way he devoured them.
He hadn't even stepped away.
Kairus was still there—above me, beside me, allover me. His chest was heaving, jaw clenched like he hadn't had enough. Because he hadn't. I saw it in his eyes. That beast wasn't done.
Not even close.
His fingers dragged down the curve of my waist, possessive, bruising, and then—
"On. All. Fours. "
The command hit me like a shot of heat straight to the spine.
I blinked, my body already moving before I could speak.
The sheets were a mess beneath me as I turned, knees digging into the mattress, palms planting against the headboard. I arched my back, feeling his gaze like a brand down my spine.
He groaned behind me.
"Good girl…" His voice was thick. Heavy. Sinful. "That's what I like to see. Obedient when it counts."
I barely had time to brace before SMACK—
His palm landed on my ass, hard and hot.
I gasped—half in shock, half in need. My hips bucked forward, but he grabbed them with one hand, steadying me, forcing me still.
"You think I wouldn't find you?" SMACK.
"Wearing that dress?" SMACK.
"Grinding on a fucking table—dripping money down your thighs while men drooled?"
SMACK. SMACK.
I cried out, the sting blooming under his palm like fire. My fingers clawed at the sheets, but I didn't run.
"You disobeyed me, Raven," he growled, leaning close to my ear. His hand tangled in my hair, yanking my head back gently—but firmly. "Now you get punished like the bad girl you are."
I whimpered.
But I didn't apologize.
He noticed.
"Oh? Still have some rebellion left in you?" he purred, dragging his tongue across the shell of my ear. "Let's fix that."
He pushed my knees apart with his own, spreading me wide, exposed. My breath hitched—embarrassed, thrilled.
"Tell me, babochka…" he murmured low, almost sweet. "Will you go to the stripper club again?"
I swallowed. "I don't know… maybe…"
SMACK.
Harder.
The sound echoed off the walls.
I gasped, my back arching deeper.
His hand dragged down my spine like punishment, like praise. He gripped my hair again, pulling just enough to sting, to own.
"Try again, baby," he rasped. "Will you go again?"
My voice shook. "N-No…"
"No what?" His fingers slipped between my thighs, teasing, but not touching where I needed. "Say it."
"No...."I whispered.
SMACK.
"Try again."
I moaned, thighs trembling. "No, Kairus…"
Another spank. This one low. Lingering. It made me melt and shake all at once.
"No, daddy…"
A pause.
Then he groaned. Like I'd unchained something he couldn't stuff back into a cage.
"Atta girl…" he hissed.
Without warning, he thrust into me again—harder, deeper than before. My scream caught in the pillows as he fucked me like it was punishment and possession all in one brutal rhythm. My arms shook. My nails dug into the headboard. He grabbed my waist like he owned it—because he did.
"You're mine," he growled, slamming into me over and over, spanking me between thrusts, "every goddamn inch of you."
He tangled his fingers in my hair again, yanking me back as he drove into me, deeper, meaner, marking my spine with kisses that turned into bites.
My body trembled, slick with sweat and surrender.
"I want to hear you say it," he growled, low and lethal. "Say you belong to me."
I sobbed, half-moan, half-desire. "I-I'm yours… I belong to you…"
SMACK.
"That's my girl."
And just before I shattered again, before I screamed his name into the sheets—
He leaned down, lips brushing my ear, breath hot and ruined—
"Be a good girl and cum for daddy, babochka…"
And I broke.
Again.
Completely.