CHAPTER 3

My knees hit the plush carpet before we reached the bed, buckling under the raw ache in my throat and the fire in my veins. Magnus yanked me up roughly, his grip bruising my bicep, but instead of shoving me onto the mattress, he spun me back toward the leather couch. 'Not yet,' he snarled, voice thick with unfinished lust. His bathrobe,wait, it hung open now, not fully discarded earlier, clinging to his shoulders like a taunt. With a shrug, he ripped it off completely, letting it pool at his feet.

His body gleamed in the dim light, broad chest heaving, abs carved tight from power and control, that crooked bite mark I'd left months ago stark on his collarbone but now, fresh scars crisscrossed his torso: thin, pink lines slashing across his pecs and ribs, deliberate and vicious, like he'd been marked by claws or a whip. Who the fuck had done that to him? The sight twisted something feral in my gut, jealousy? Pity? It didn't matter. His cock stood brutal and hard again, already swelling back to full thickness, veins throbbing, head dripping fresh pre-cum. Dominance radiated off him like heat, his eyes locking mine with cold promise.

He shoved me down onto the leather couch face-first, my cheek smacking the cool hide, ass up and exposed. My balls hung heavy between my spread thighs, cock trapped and leaking against the seam. 'You think that blowjob earns you shit?' His weight crashed over me, pinning my hips, one knee forcing my legs wider. Hot breath ghosted my neck as his teeth sank into my collarbone, deep, ripping a guttural scream from my raw throat. Pain exploded, white-hot and blinding, blood welling under his bite, copper tang flooding my mouth as I bit my lip.

He ground his hips forward, thick cock sliding hot between my ass cheeks, smearing pre-cum over my hole. No lube, no prep, just raw intent. 'This body's mine now, Finn. Every hole, every mark.' His voice dripped ice, even as his teeth worried the wound deeper, sucking the blood like a claim. I bucked under him, torn between shoving back and begging, my mind fracturing. The scars on his chest pressed into my back, rough reminders of his own hidden pains or pleasures. Did he crave this brutality from others too? The thought fueled my shame, my cock twitching harder.

One hand fisted my hair, yanking my head back, arching my spine until my throat screamed. His other hand gripped his cock, lining up the fat head against my tight ring. 'You left your mark on me once. Now I brand you forever.' He thrust in with no mercy, no warning. The burn tore through me, my hole stretching brutally around his girth, muscles clenching in futile protest. Inch after burning inch slammed home, balls-deep in one savage push, his pubes grinding against my ass.

I howled, vision blurring, pain crashing like a wave, ripping, fullness overwhelming every nerve but under it, pleasure sparked filthy and deep, prostate nailed on the first brutal drag back. He didn't wait, hips snapping forward again, pounding my ass with piston force. Leather creaked under us, my body jolting with each slam, cock slapping my stomach, pre-cum pooling slick beneath me. His teeth released my collarbone only to latch onto my shoulder, biting down hard enough to bruise bone, marking me symmetric to his own scar.

'Fucking take it,' he growled against my skin, thrusts turning vicious, short, deep stabs that punched my guts, then long withdrawals leaving me empty and gaping. 'Beg for the drug again, and I'll make sure your father-in-law chokes on air forever. You're my whore now. My property. Say it.' His hand cracked across my ass cheek, sting blooming red-hot, making my hole spasm around him tighter.

'Yours,' I gasped, voice wrecked, tears streaming into the leather. Emotional storm raged, guilt for my wife, desperation for the medicine, but drowned in the ecstasy of surrender. His cock dragged fire and bliss, hitting spots that made stars burst behind my eyes. Scars rasped my back, his sweat dripping salty into my bite wounds, mingling pain with possession. Past flashed: that night I'd bitten him laughing, thinking I owned him. Now reversed, his dominance absolute, scars proof he'd chased darker thrills since.

He shifted, hooking my leg over his arm, spreading me obscenely-wide. Thrusts hammered deeper, balls slapping my taint wetly, the gluck-squelch of raw ass-fucking filling the room. His free hand wrapped my throat, squeezing just enough to haze my vision, control total. 'Feel that? Your ass milking me like a slut. Cum without touching, prove you're broken for me.' Whispers turned threats: 'One word to anyone, and your family's ruined but obey... and maybe I'll dose him.' Cold calculation laced the heat, power play twisting my submission sweeter.

Agony and ecstasy collided, prostate battered relentlessly, bites throbbing in rhythm with his cock. My body betrayed me, hole clenching greedily, chasing the edge. Thoughts splintered: his scars against me, our shared marks binding us in brutal history. I lost myself, arching back to meet his slams, moans turning to pleas. 'Please... Magnus... more.' His laugh rumbled dark, pace fracturing as he swelled impossibly thicker inside me but he slowed teasingly, grinding deep, teeth grazing my ear. 'Not yet. I want you ruined first.' His hand dipped, fingers circling my dripping cock, threat of more torment hanging heavy.