chapter 43

THEA

It’s too much.

Too deep.

Too perfect.

He doesn’t give me time to adjust. Doesn’t slow. Doesn’t ask.

Just takes.

His cock stretches me wide, fills every inch, thick and pulsing with every throb of blood. The first thrust knocks the air from my lungs. The second steals my voice. By the third, I’m trembling—hips pinned to the desk, legs splayed, body wide open and helpless under his control.

He fucks me like he owns me.

Like he’s been starved for me.

Like he deserves this—deserves to use me until there’s nothing left but the echo of his name on my tongue.

Each stroke is punishing. Slick. Precise.

The heavy drag of him pulls against my inner walls, forcing them to mold around his thickness. Every ridge, every vein, every relentless inch makes me more raw, more delirious.

The desk groans beneath us, wood creaking in time with his hips. Papers scatter to the floor like snow, forgotten. All that matters is this: his body hammering into mine. His scent—warm, masculine, intoxicating—mixing with sweat and sex and desperation.

I clutch the edge of the desk, knuckles white, arms trembling as I try to hold myself together. But I’m unraveling—fast and messy, each thrust another rip in the seams of my composure.

He reaches down, grabs the backs of my knees, and pushes them higher until they’re pressed to my chest. The change in angle is devastating—he hits a spot deep inside me that makes me cry out, eyes rolling back.

“Oh my—Ezra—”

My voice is barely human. Just gasps and moans and helpless sounds I’ve never made for anyone else.

His mouth is everywhere—biting my shoulder, dragging across my collarbone, pressing against the corner of my lips. “You were made for this,” he growls. “Made to take me. Look at you—so wet, so fucking tight. You’re squeezing me like you don’t want me to leave.”

“I don’t,” I whisper, breath hitching. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop—”

He laughs, low and sinful. “I wasn’t going to.”

He fucks me harder. Faster. The wet slap of skin-on-skin is obscene, echoing in the office like a chant. I feel him everywhere—in my gut, in my ribs, in the ache between my thighs that only he can soothe.

My breasts bounce with every punishing thrust, nipples tight and sensitive, pressed against his chest as he leans closer. My clit pulses, untouched but throbbing with need. I’m so close I can taste it—sweet and dizzying and right on the edge of painful.

“You gonna come for me?” he rasps, one hand sliding down to press firmly over my lower belly. I jerk at the contact. “You feel that? That’s me deep inside. All the way inside.”

“Fuck—Ezra—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can.” His thumb brushes my clit, once, twice. “Be a good girl. Come all over my cock.”

I shatter.

It slams into me like a freight train…my orgasm.

Hot. Blinding. Crippling.

Pleasure ricochets through my body, clenching every muscle, stealing my breath. I scream his name, my thighs trembling, heels digging into his back as my walls clamp down around him, milking him,

But he's not done.

His hands grip my hips like handles, fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to bruise. His rhythm is merciless—deep, punishing, addictive. Every stroke drags a cry from my lips, every thrust a confession from my soul.

I claw at the edge of the desk, desperate for something to hold on to. But he’s the only anchor I have.

The desk rocks beneath us, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room like a war drum. I’m spread wider, open, bare—my body taking him, clenching around him, greedy for every inch even though my clit still aches from my orgasm.

“Ezra,” I gasp as he reaches somewhere even deeper in me, “it’s—God—it’s too much—”

He growls, thrusting out until only the tip remains before plunging so deep I swear I can feel him in my throat. “It’s not enough,” he snarls against my neck. “You’ll take more. You’ll take everything.”

He lifts one of my legs over his shoulder and the angle changes—sharper, deeper, more devastating. I sob, my nails dragging down his back, leaving angry red lines that only make him hiss and fuck me harder.

“You feel that?” he pants, voice wrecked. “That’s how a man fucks what’s his.”

I want to argue.

I want to tell him this is just today.

But all I can do is moan his name like a prayer and chase the heat building low and dark inside me.

He leans down, lips brushing mine, our breaths colliding.

“I want to ruin you for me.” He whispers. “So, when you walk, you'll always feel me deep inside you.”

My walls clench around him, and he laughs, savage and smug.

“Fuck, you like that, don’t you?”

I nod, barely able to breathe. “Yes—yes, Ezra—don’t stop—”

He doesn’t.

He pounds into me like he’s trying to brand his name into my womb, and all I can do is take it. Let him. Need him.

My second climax builds with violent intensity, my body tightening around him, helpless to stop the way he’s pulling me apart.

“I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he grunts, dropping my leg. He pulls me closer to him and bites down on my shoulder. “Come for me again, sugarplum. Soak my cock like the desperate little thing you are.”

His words send me over.

I scream, my orgasm tearing through me like a lightning strike. Blinding. Shaking. Wrecking.

My vision goes white.

My soul leaves my body.

Then, his teeth press against the crook of my neck, and through the haze, I feel it—sharp—piercing my skin.

My blood.

I clamp harder, pain mixing with intense pleasure.

Ezra didn't stop. He keeps moving, chasing his own high  as he drinks my blood while I'm clamped on him so tight, I think I might burst until he slams into me one last time with a groan against my skin.

He spills inside me, hot and thick, filling me like he’s trying to mark me from the inside out.

When he finally stops, we’re both shaking.

Breathless.

Ruined.

He pulls away from the crook of my neck and I shiver when he gives it a lick.

“You taste and feel like mine.” He whispers as he leans his forehead against mine, eyes closed, thin lines of blood on his lips, still buried in me.

And I realize something.

I just let a monster have me.

And I enjoyed every moment of it.

There's no going back now.