All Chapters of Fifty Shades of Lust {Short Stories}: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

I spent the next six hours hating myself.I showered twice. Scrubbed until my skin was raw. Stood in front of my mirror in nothing but a towel and stared at the girl looking back at me. Eyes red from crying. Lips still swollen from biting them to keep from screaming. I told her she was pathetic. I told her she was selling out. I told her she could report him tomorrow, fight it, take the F and the consequences and prove she was better than this.Then I remembered the scholarship email in my inbox. The one that said “final warning” in bold red letters. The one that said if my GPA dropped below 3.8 this semester, the funding vanished. No appeal. No second chance. Just gone.I cried again. Quietly. Into the towel.Then I dried my face. Opened my wardrobe. And picked out the dress.Black. Tight. Sleeveless. Hemline high enough to show thigh, low enough to pretend it was still classy. No bra. Black lace thong. The same red lipstick from earlier. Hair down in loose waves. Heels that made my

I woke up sore in places I did not know could hurt.My thighs ached with every small movement. My pussy felt swollen and tender, lips puffy from being stretched and rubbed raw. My ass burned faintly when I shifted position. My nipples were dark and sensitive, still tingling from his teeth and fingers. My throat was scraped, voice hoarse from moaning and begging. Faint bruises bloomed on my hips where he had gripped me too hard. Red marks circled my wrists from the rope he had used earlier in the living room. Bite marks dotted my inner thighs and the swell of my breasts.I hated him for every single mark.I hated how my body still hummed with the aftershocks. How my clit pulsed lazily just thinking about the way he had pinned me down. How wet I got again when I remembered the exact moment I had begged him to fuck me harder. I hated that I had come so many times I lost count. I hated that I had screamed his name like it meant something.I rolled over. Buried my face in the pillow. Tried

The towel fell from my shoulders and hit the carpet with a soft, wet slap. Damon’s eyes darkened instantly, raking over my body like he was starving and I was the only thing on the menu. The soaked black dress clung to every inch of me, transparent enough to show the dark peaks of my nipples, the dip of my waist, the shadow between my thighs. I didn’t bother covering up. What was the point? He’d already seen everything.He took one step forward. Then another. Slow. Deliberate. Like a predator who knew the prey wasn’t running.“Ava,” he said again, voice rough, thick with want. “Tell me to stop.”I lifted my chin. “I’m not telling you anything.”That was all he needed.His mouth crashed down on mine, hard and hungry. No gentle reunion kiss. No sweet apologies. Just teeth and tongue and raw need. I kissed him back the same way, biting his lower lip until I tasted copper, fisting my hands in his wet hair and yanking him closer. Two years of pent-up frustration poured out in that single,

I slammed the car door and jammed the key in the ignition. The engine caught on the second try. Rain hammered the roof like fists. I threw the car into reverse, tires spinning on wet gravel, and peeled out of the driveway without looking back. The gates were already open, thank God. I hit the road doing sixty in a thirty zone, heart slamming against my ribs so hard I thought it would crack bone.I made it maybe two miles before the headlights died.Everything went black. Engine dead. Dashboard dark. Just the rain and my own ragged breathing.I slapped the wheel. "Come on, come on."Nothing.I grabbed my phone. No signal. Of course.Something moved in the rearview mirror.A shadow. Tall. Standing in the middle of the road.Lucian Vale.He was soaked, shirt clinging to him, hair plastered to his skull. Blood still smeared at the corner of his mouth from earlier. He didn't move. Just watched.I locked the doors. Stupid. Like that would stop him.He started walking toward the car. Slow. C

The rain never let up, a cold, endless curtain that turned the world gray and blurred the edges of everything except him. Lucian's arms locked around my waist like steel, keeping me upright when my knees had long since buckled. My body still quivered from his mouth—aftershocks rippling through my core, clit throbbing with every heartbeat—but the venom had only changed shape. It no longer burned bright and frantic; it sank slow and heavy, pooling low in my belly, turning every shallow breath into a silent, desperate beg: fill me, break me, own me completely. He straightened, water cascading off the hard planes of his shoulders, down the carved lines of his chest. His face was a ruin of me—rain-streaked blood, my slickness shining on his lips and chin, eyes gone fully black, no silver left, just endless night staring back. When he stepped in close I felt the full length of him press against my stomach: thick, rigid, straining so hard against the wet fabric of his pants it looked painfu