Rage & Ruin | 18+

8|I'm not done with you yet (18++)

Daphne's eyes flickered from the wall to the bed, her heart racing. She knew what he was doing-trying to make her feel like she had a say in this twisted dance. She took a deep breath, steeling herself. "I want it to end," she replied, her voice strong despite the tremor in her chest. "But since that's not an option, I choose the bed." It was the lesser of two evils, the slightly less terrifying choice.

Alaric's smile grew, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "As you wish," he said, his tone mocking. He strode towards her, each step deliberate and predatory. Daphne's back hit the cool stone of the headboard, the contrast to the warmth of her skin stark and jarring. She braced herself, her eyes never leaving his as he approached.

He raised the riding crop, the leather flexing in his hand. "But remember, my dear," he said, his voice a dark whisper, "you're the one who chose the wall." With that, he brought the crop down sharply across her thighs. The sound of leather meeting flesh echoed through the chamber, the sharp crack a stark reminder of his dominance. Daphne's body jerked, the pain a searing line across her sensitive skin.

Her eyes flew to the mirror, watching as he raised the crop again, his smirk never leaving his face. She could see the marks on her skin, the red lines standing out against her pale flesh. Each stroke brought with it a new wave of agony, a stark contrast to the feverish heat that still lingered from her forced orgasm. Her mind rebelled, screaming for her to fight back, to push him away, but her body remained frozen, a silent spectator to her own degradation.

He placed the crop down, his eyes never leaving hers. "Now, let's see how much more you can handle," he murmured, his voice a dark caress. His hands moved to her hips, his grip firm as he positioned her against the wall. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms tight around his neck for support. Her breasts bounced with the movement, the sensation sending another jolt of unwanted arousal through her.

Alaric's hands roamed over her body, his fingers digging into her skin as he held her in place. The wall was cold and unforgiving against her back, the stark contrast to the heat of his body making her shiver. He kissed her neck, his teeth scraping her skin as his mouth moved lower. Daphne felt his hardness pressing against her, a constant reminder of his desire. Despite her anger, her body was responding to his touch, her traitorous flesh betraying her.

With a swift movement, he undid his pants and pushed himself inside her without warning. She cried out, the pain of his entry tearing through her as he filled her completely. Her walls hadn't had time to adjust, and she felt herself stretching to accommodate his size. The room spun around her, the candlelight blurring into a sea of gold.

Daphne's nails dug into his shoulders, her legs tightening around his waist in a desperate attempt to slow his brutal rhythm. Each thrust was a punishment, a declaration of his dominance over her. Her hair fell around her face in wild disarray, sticking to her damp cheeks as she panted with each invasion. Her breasts bounced with every impact, the sensation only adding to the chaos of sensations overwhelming her.

Alaric's eyes remained closed, his head thrown back in a silent scream of triumph. His hips moved in a slow, steady rhythm, his every move calculated to cause her the maximum amount of discomfort. Yet, she could feel the heat of his desire, the way his body tensed with each movement, the way his muscles flexed and tightened as he claimed her. It was a dance of pain and pleasure, one that she had no power to resist.

Her own eyes were wide with shock and disbelief, staring at their reflection in the mirror. The sight of him, so powerful and in control, while she was pinned beneath him, was almost too much to bear. Her hands gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she tried to find purchase, to fight the waves of sensation that washed over her. But her body was a traitor, responding to his every touch with a need that she couldn't ignore.

With his eyes closed, lost in his own pleasure, Daphne could see the raw desire etched on his face. His cheeks were flushed, his jaw clenched as he took her, his movements slow and deliberate. Each thrust sent a shiver of pain through her, but it was mixed with something else-something dark and seductive that had her hips moving against his in a silent plea for more.

Her mind reeled, trying to understand why she was responding this way to such brutal treatment. She hated him, she reminded herself, her teeth grinding together. Yet her body seemed to have a mind of its own, her muscles tightening around him as she neared the edge of another climax. The room was filled with the sound of their harsh breathing, the slap of skin on skin, and the occasional moan that she couldn't hold back.

With a snarl, she bit down on his shoulder, the taste of his salty skin mingling with the coppery tang of her own blood. Alaric's eyes snapped open, his pupils dilated with lust. He smirked, driving into her harder, enjoying her involuntary reactions. Daphne's eyes squeezed shut, her body tightening like a spring, until finally, she shattered, her orgasm ripping through her with the force of a hurricane. She screamed his name, the sound echoing off the stone walls, her nails raking down his back as wave after wave of pleasure-pain consumed her.

Her legs felt like jelly as he pulled out, leaving her feeling empty and violated. Alaric's chest heaved with exertion, his cock still rock-hard and gleaming with her arousal. He smirked, watching her struggle to stand, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her. "You see," he said, his voice a low growl, "how easy it is to make you beg for more?"

Daphne's eyes filled with unshed tears as she forced herself upright, her legs trembling with the effort. She could feel the ache between her thighs, a painful reminder of his cruelty. Yet she remained silent, her jaw clenched with determination. He hadn't broken her yet, and she'd be damned if she'd give him the satisfaction of hearing her beg.

Alaric's smirk grew wider, his eyes dark with desire as he watched her struggle. He remained unyielding, his cock still embedded deep within her. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "I'm not done with you yet," he murmured, his voice a seductive threat.