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“Mine,” he growls into my ear. “Who do you belong to?”
“Fuck off,” I scream, my words muffled by the soil.
“Choose your words wisely, little ghost. After all, I’m the one in control of your orgasm.” Chuckling, he pulls out and rolls me onto my back.
Dark spots dance in my vision, and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. He stares down at me with those pale, pitiless irises, and pulls my knees up to my chest. How is it fair that I’m completely naked, save for a few scraps of torn fabric, and he’s fully clothed?
“I’m not a?—”
His thick cock drives so deeply into my core that it knocks out my air. The thrusts become forceful, the rhythm bordering on frantic, as he fucks me like a feral beast.
“I said, I’m not?—”
He thrusts into me so deeply that I feel every ridge, every piercing, every thick vein of his shaft. I lose track of what the hell I wanted to say. As he quickens his pace, my tits bounce with the violence of his movements. His weight crushes my lungs, and it takes every effort to breathe.
Pleasure spirals up from my center, growing in intensity until it feels like it’s me who got the electric chair.
“Do you want to come?” he asks, his thumb grazing over my clit.
“Yes,” I moan.
“Then who do you belong to?”
“Nobody.”
“Wrong answer.” He pulls back his thumb and changes the angle of his thrusts to deny me the desperately needed relief.
“Who?” he growls into my ear, his voice making my skin tingle with sparks of sensation.
I writhe beneath his large body, trying to create my own friction, but he reaches for my throat.
“Myself,” I scream. “I belong to me.”
“Keep defying your soulmate. I have the rest of our lives.”
I choke at his audacity. Isn’t there some kind of rule that says nothing counts in the heat of the moment? Xero is a fugitive. Not just from the law, but from his criminal father. He can’t seriously expect me to join him on the run.
His fingers tighten, cutting off my air. I gasp in a breath, but it doesn’t reach beyond my throat. My heart races, my vision blurs, and my entire world narrows until there’s only him and the night sky.
“Who. Do. You. Belong. To?” His deep voice seeps through the muffled roar between my ears.
“Me.”
Xero’s weight crushes mine further into the dirt, adding to the intoxicating sensation of surrender. If he gripped any tighter, he would snuff out my life, and the thought of him fucking me to my dying breath makes every nerve ending light up like fireworks.
I’m weightless, dizzy, and I swear that the stars grow brighter. As I claw at his gloved hand, they morph into a brilliant galaxy.
“Say it,” he snarls.
My lungs burn, my pulse beats wildly against his fingers, and I gasp for non-existent air. He fucks into me with the kind of wild abandon that makes me think this could be our last.
Each movement brings me closer to the edge. My body is aflame, consumed by his touch. My mind races with fear and confusion, but amid the chaos, I come to a realization. Xero is here, alive and driven—not by a desire for my destruction but by a soul-deep obsession. He’s dangerous, unhinged, but his madness is rooted in a sick kind of love.
As he drives me to the brink of ecstasy, I revel in the intensity of his feelings. In the notion that he can’t let me go.
Something shifts inside my psyche, and fear mingles with dark exhilaration. In this terrifying game, I’m not just a pawn—I’m his queen. He shows his love through this twisted devotion. The boundary between terror and desire crumbles, leaving behind an inexplicable need to match his intensity, to prove the ferocity of my devotion.
The sickest part of me rejoices that Xero wants me so badly, he’d risk my life. The man who set social media alight, who pledged himself to me over hundreds and thousands of others, chose me. Not as his victim or prey, but as the woman he wanted to make his wife. Despite the danger and madness, my chest swells with a twisted sense of pride.
