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devotedlypinkpeanut · 1 day ago

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Love us as much as we love you — part 1

Summary: Y/n is a professor who spends a night with four men, unaware that they are students at the university where she is about to teach. These four students, known as the Black Apollos, rule Ravenridge School. Wealthy, arrogant, and violent, they instill terror wherever they go. Through this one-night encounter, they gain leverage over her that they will use as they please. This Halloween month, she and other students are invited to celebrate at their mansion. What will happen to her?

PAIRING: Non-idols of ENHYPEN’s hyung line x female reader

GENRE: 18+ (MDNI), adulthood, reverse harem, teacher/student.

Warning : manipulation, psychological violence, physical violence, blood, blood kink, spitting, spanking, bondage, blackmail, intimidation, harassment, threats, student/teacher relationship, fighting, jealousy, dark atmosphere, insults, public humiliation, mental domination, body control, forced consent, confinement, dangerous seduction, domination, double play, emotional dependency, mental torture, physical constraints, extortion, abuse of power, degradation, erotic pain, double penetration, anal sex, cigarette consumption, oral sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, BDSM, fetishism, vaginal penetration, submission practices, non-consensual acts, acts in public places, mental domination, sexual humiliation.

Number of words : 36k

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“You’re a filthy slut, aren’t you, Y/n?” Heeseung’s voice echoes in the empty classroom, imbued with a mischievous lightness that vibrates the air around you. He utters this line with a cruel amusement, his gaze sparkling with palpable malice. Every word he speaks feels like a sharp blade, slicing through the already electric tension that hangs between you. He approaches you with calculated slowness, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his nonchalant movements concealing an underlying threat. He circles your desk like a predator toying with its prey, and his smirking smile reveals the satisfaction he derives from your apparent submission.

“Or should I say, professor?” His voice softens slightly, but the shadow of irony lingers. “But tell me, do you deserve it, you little bitch?” He positions himself right in front of you, his imposing stature dominating the space as he leans against your desk. A disdainful smile stretches across his lips as you shoot him a dark look, filled with a mix of anger and desire you dare not admit.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, feigning indignation, but a mocking glint shines in his eyes. He leans closer to you, his warm, spicy breath brushing against your skin, sending shivers through every fiber of your being. “Don’t tell me you don’t agree with my words?” His words, whispered like a caress, penetrate deep within you. Rage bubbles in your veins, but a part of you feels inexplicably drawn to this dangerous game.

Suddenly, without warning, he violently yanks your hair, a brutal motion that elicits a grunt of pain from you. You try to break free, clawing at the air in a survival instinct, but he only tightens his grip, his expression darkening with unhealthy satisfaction. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, professor. You shouldn’t annoy me more than I already am, right?” His tone is both mocking and possessive, sending a chill of anxiety and excitement down your spine. He pulls even harder on your hair, exposing your delicate neck, and you feel burning tears of humiliation welling in your eyes. In this moment, you are both vulnerable and entranced, feeling smaller under his grasp, reduced to an object of his desire.

“Now tell me, professor, you’re a filthy whore, a slut who has slept with four of her students without any shame or remorse. All this solely to satisfy your desire.” Each word he utters echoes in the air, like a whip crack. His words are like arrows, piercing your facade of control. He leans close to your ear, whispering these words like an obscene secret, a shared delight. His warm, fragrant breath brushes against your skin, and he nibbles on your earlobe, licking it with a calculated slowness that electrifies you and makes you tremble with anticipation. The mix of pain and excitement blinds you, and you almost cry, the urge to protest stuck in your throat.

“Like the needy whore you are, you loved it, you wanted more, always so much more, because you’re made for our cocks. One is never enough for you, is it, treasure?” His lips glide along your neck, licking, sucking, and nibbling your skin, marking every inch with feverish obsession. He is possessive, and this reality sends chills down your spine with fear and desire. Each kiss, each bite is a promise of ecstasy and pain, and you feel the imminence of your fall, drawn towards the abyss of his depravity.

He violently yanks your hair, lifting you from your chair and slamming you against your desk. You let out a gasp of pain, stifling it by biting your lips until they bleed. “Don’t want to talk, treasure? Then I’ll make you scream like the slut you are.” Heeseung chuckles, his laughter resonating like a sinister echo in the room. He pushes you further into your desk, making you feel a sharp pain in your belly and ribs. The furniture digs into your flesh, but he doesn’t care about your suffering; he only seeks to possess you. He slowly lifts your skirt, exposing your soft skin to his ravenous gaze. You moan in pain, trying to pull away, but he doesn’t allow it, his hand maintaining total control over your body. “I’m going to make you scream, and every corner of this school will hear how much of a whore you are, my personal slut. You’d better count, or you’ll regret it.” His voice is a delightfully cruel threat as he lets all his weight press down on your back, making you feel every ounce of his dominance.

Heeseung grabs your wrists, sliding them behind your back, holding them firmly between his fingers, keeping you pinned against the table. His eyes revel in your pain as he caresses your ass with deceptive softness, a shocking contrast to his brutal grip. He drops his hand on your cold cheek, burning with pain, and you let out a small moan, your sensations heightened by the struggle you’re fighting to free yourself. Your body twists slightly, trying to pull away from him, but he disregards your movement, bringing his hand down on your ass with deliberate force, making you scream in pain as a shiver of excitement courses through your body.

“I told you to count, didn’t I?” he says with a cold anger laced with pleasure in his voice, gripping your right cheek with brutal strength. His nails dig into your flesh, blood begins to flow, and the pain electrifies you as you feel an oddly delicious warmth. He watches the blood flow onto the floor, a satisfied smile forming on his lips as he brings his bloodied fingers to his mouth to lick them, letting out a moan of pleasure, savoring every drop of your suffering.

“Tw—Two.” Your voice trembles, and tears blur your vision. Pain oppresses you, and you writhe, desperately trying to break free, but nothing works. He is stronger than you, and he revels in your submission, in your weakness. Every scream, every moan strengthens his power over you.

“That’s it, my love, I’m so proud of you.” His hand caresses your wounded ass, spreading your blood over it. His voice sends a pleasurable shiver through your entire body, all the way to your lower belly. He notices how your body reacts to his praise, a sly smile forming on his face. “You love compliments, don’t you, treasure?”

“That’s not true!” You try to deny it, but your excitement betrays you, and you feel a flush of shame creep over your cheeks.

Heeseung kneels behind you, his gaze burning with desire and malice, as if he knows exactly what you’re feeling. His fingers slowly glide over the fabric of your panties, already completely ruined and soaked with your excitement. A satisfied smile spreads across his lips, the expression of a man who knows he has power over you. “Are you sure, treasure? That’s not what I feel,” he murmurs, his voice laced with mockery, each word a delicious poison that ignites you from within.

He slides his finger through the damp fabric, brushing against your femininity with unbearable slowness. The shiver that runs through your body makes you tremble against the desk, unable to control your reactions. A pathetic moan escapes your lips, revealing just how entranced you are by his touch. “Damn, you’re completely soaked for me,” he says, his tone filled with disdain and desire. “You liked it as much as I did, my love. You can’t fool me.”

With a sudden, unannounced gesture, he tears the delicate fabric, exposing your soft, vulnerable skin to the cool air. The thrill of this moment makes your heart race as he plunges a finger into your pussy, exploring your warmth with devouring audacity. You both release a collective moan, a cry of ecstasy mixed with pain, an echo of the dark passion that consumes you.

His finger movements are initially slow, as if he’s taking the time to savor every inch of your body. But as desire rises, he increases the pressure, adding a second finger, sinking deeper. His fingers penetrate your pussy, playing with your plump femininity, exploring it like a field of escape, teasing your sensitivity. The sensation of his fingers rubbing against the walls of your pussy makes you completely lose control, and you struggle to breathe. You know you should fight against this, but each thrust brings you closer to the release you so desperately desire.

“Do you like it, don’t you?” he asks, his voice hoarse and laden with sensuality. His words resonate like a promise of obscene illusions, each syllable bringing you closer to ultimate ecstasy. He mistreats your pussy, urging you to open up even more, to surrender completely to him. Pain intertwines with ecstasy, and you can no longer pretend, losing yourself in the obscenity of his caresses.

He slowly rises from the floor, his fingers sliding out of your pussy, still soaked with your excitement, leaving a shiny trail of moisture on your skin. The room is filled with a heavy atmosphere, charged with unspoken desires and palpable power. He approaches you, his hungry gaze scrutinizing every inch of your body stretched out on the desk.

His fingers, coated with your own pleasure, slowly approach your mouth, a smug smile forming on his lips. You know what he expects. Your eyes shine with anticipation as you open your mouth, your tongue ready to welcome what he offers. His fingers penetrate inside, and you envelop them, your warm, wet mouth greedily absorbing them. You start to suck on them as if they were his cock, your tongue swirling around them, playing, caressing, creating a sensual ballet of pleasure.

He groans, a rough, almost primal sound. “Keep it up, treasure,” he says, his voice heavy with lust and desire. As you take them deeper, you feel tears welling up, slightly choking you, but it’s a delicious mix of pain and pleasure that consumes you. His eyes gleam with a twisted satisfaction as he watches your submission, pressing harder against you, his hips aligning with your body.

Every movement of his fingers drives you mad. You tighten your mouth around them, applying pressure, your saliva dripping down your lips and falling onto your chest. He plunges his fingers deeper into your mouth, his hand moving in a controlled rhythm, and you start to moan, your body responding to the delicious brutality of the situation. A soft gasp escapes your lips, and you feel the thrill of pleasure coursing through you, igniting every fiber of your being.

While you stuff your mouth with his fingers, you begin to grind against him, each movement bringing you a little closer to ecstasy. The friction of your body against his elicits obscene moans, sounds that echo in the room like a reflection of your shared desire. “You’re such a dirty girl, professor,” he whispers, his voice full of disdain and admiration. “You take my fingers like a champion.”

He starts to grind against you more intensely, matching the rhythm of your movements. His hips move with calculated precision, each thrust rubbing his erection against your thigh. The friction drives you wild with desire, and you begin to moan louder, unable to contain the ecstasy that overwhelms you. The pressure mounts as he continues to push his fingers deeper into your mouth, forcing you to choke even more, submitting further to him.

“Look at you, so submissive, so greedy,” he says with a satisfied smile, his eyes shining with animal desire. “You’re so delicious like this.” He increases the pace, his fingers sliding and plunging even deeper inside you, pushing the limits of your pleasure to the brink. Each movement creates a wave of heat coursing through your body, an explosion of intense sensations, leaving you completely at his mercy. The heat consumes you, a heady mix of pleasure and humiliation enveloping you, leaving you in a frenzy of excitement. You know you’re ready to do anything for him, to abandon all resistance.

He slowly withdraws his fingers from your mouth, slick with your saliva and excitement, holding them up like trophies. “Look how you’ve ruined my fingers with your filthy mouth,” Heeseung sneers, a mixture of disdain and desire in his gaze, the expression of a predator savoring its prey. He shows you the mess, traces of your pleasure glistening on his skin, a clear reflection of your total submission. Then, he grabs you firmly by the jaw, his eyes narrowed in a mix of possessiveness and pleasure, forcing you to hold his intense gaze.

Your heart races, heat flooding your face like a rising tide. Your body is on fire, your burning desires colliding with the reality of the situation. He admires your face, ruined by your own pleasure, drool dripping down your neck, his gaze igniting your yearning to be his, to be consumed by his passion. “Damn! Treasure, I think I can’t hold back anymore,” he murmurs, the tension in his voice escalating with every second. The desire to please him grows within you, an almost irresistible urge that drives you wild.

He releases his grip on your jaw and roughly turns you around, laying you back on the desk. The cold wood against your skin makes you shiver, but that chill is quickly replaced by an insatiable heat that ignites your body, every fiber of your being vibrating with anticipation.

“So don’t stop, I need you, Heeseung…” Your voice trembles with anticipation, each word laden with desire. You spread your legs, exposing your bare, dripping pussy, the liquid dripping onto the desk as a blatant sign of your submission. You feel vulnerable, yet incredibly desirable, fully aware that you are at his mercy, ready to dive into the depths of your desires.

He approaches, his dark eyes fixed on your femininity, a satisfied smile gracing his lips. You feel his warm breath on your skin, a scorching caress that sends shivers of pleasure through you with every inhale, like a prelude to what’s to come. “Look at me,” he says in a hoarse voice, and you comply, your eyes locked onto his, revealing your total submission. You know he sees you as prey, and it drives you wild with desire, excited by the thought of what he might do to you.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispers, bringing a finger close to your intimacy. The light touch against your sensitive skin sends a jolt of intense pleasure through you, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan, the excitement gripping you tightly. “So wet and ready for me,” he adds, his tone laced with raw, primal desire. He toys with your excitement, his finger gliding slowly along your sex, deliciously torturing you, leaving you languishing in anticipation, each movement triggering waves of pleasure that threaten to overwhelm you.

“I want you to scream for me,” he says, an arrogant smile on his face. Then, without warning, he suddenly plunges a finger deep inside you, making you gasp with surprise and pleasure. The sensation blindsides you, and you moan, unable to contain the sounds spilling from your mouth, the explosive feeling spreading throughout your being. He doesn’t waste a moment before adding a second finger, relishing the way you squirm, the way your body responds to each thrust, each movement plunging him deeper into your warmth.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse with desire, resonating in the warm, charged air. “So tight, so hungry.” His fingers begin to pump inside you, each movement becoming an intoxicating symphony of pleasure and pain. You feel an intense heat spreading through your entire body, an irresistible need to submit completely to him. The desk creaks under the weight of your untamed passion, and you are entirely at his mercy, lost in this dance of unconfessed desires, like a puppet in his expert hands.

“Give me everything,” he commands, his voice tinged with an overwhelming authority that sends shivers down your spine. You nod, ready to give him all that he desires, to offer every part of your being. Your body lifts against his fingers, seeking to feel him deeper, to satisfy him, as he continues to explore every inch of your intimacy. Moans escape from your lips, each thrust of his fingers amplifying the whirlwind of ecstasy consuming you.

“Give me your cock, Heeseung,” you cry, your voice breaking from the insatiable pleasure crashing over you like a wave, almost frantic with the need to possess him. “Please, I need it so badly.” Your eyes shine with a mix of desperate hope and burning desire as you surrender to this irresistible wave of need that pulls you down, completely at his mercy, ready to do anything to satisfy this man who consumes you.

Heeseung, with a cocky smile, slowly pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you wanting more, a cry of frustration on the tip of your lips. Then, with a provocative air, he slowly undoes his pants, savoring every second of your insatiable impatience. The sound of the fabric sliding against his skin resonates in the empty classroom, heightening the intensity of this forbidden, electrifying moment. He lowers his boxers, revealing his proud, thick erection, ready to take you, a sight that makes your heart race even faster.

“Is this what you want, professor?” he asks with a mocking smile, a glint of challenge shining in his dark eyes. “Do you want me to fuck your brains out here, in front of all these students who might walk in at any moment? Shouldn’t you be a little ashamed?” His words are a burning provocation, a dangerous game that ignites your desire further. He starts to tap his cock against your pussy, pre-cum dripping and sliding down your inner thigh, making you shudder with lust.

“Yes! Heeseung, I need it so badly,” you scream, almost enraged by the desire consuming your body. Every fiber of your being screams for him to fill you, to take you to the edge of oblivion as the tension rises with every passing second. “Don’t make me wait any longer.” In an act of defiance, you lift your hips, trying to draw him in, to connect with him in a way that feels both sweet and cruel.

Heeseung narrows his eyes, amused by your insatiable determination. “You’re so desperate,” he murmurs, his voice sardonic. Then, in a swift, dominant motion, he grips your hips, positioning you as he desires. His gaze is hungry as he leans in, his lips brushing against your delicate ear, a hot breath that makes you shiver. “Are you ready to sacrifice everything for a little pleasure?”

You nod, your heart racing, completely under his spell, aware that each passing second intensifies the desire binding you together. The tension in the air is palpable, a mix of lust and danger, and you know this moment is both beautiful and tragic, a dance on the razor’s edge between pleasure and consequences. He owns you, and you’re ready to do anything to keep him close, even if it means playing with fire.

“So get ready,” he whispers just before penetrating you, his hips pressing against yours, every muscle in your body tensing in a mix of intense pleasure and sweet pain. He enters you with irresistible force, shattering all barriers between you, every muscle in your body tightening in a blend of pleasure and pain. You cling to him, your hand gripping his arm, seeking an anchor as ecstasy takes you away.

He starts with slow, almost hypnotic thrusts, each movement like a sensual melody that envelops you. Each thrust is a burning breath, a languid caress that brushes your skin, leaving you just enough time to prepare for the impending explosion. The electricity spreads in the air, and the tension between you is palpable. His eyes sink into yours, obsessed with every shiver of your body, scrutinizing your expression as you arch under his grip, a declaration of his power.

Then, suddenly, he picks up the pace. His movements become more brutal, more demanding, and passion explodes within him. He holds your hips firmly, his fingers gripping your flesh with a force that leaves marks, indelible proof of his possession. His nails dig into your skin, and a delicious mix of pain and pleasure makes you moan, each thrust a promise of obscene delights. You are lost in this dance where you have become nothing more than an object of desire.

The table you’re laid on vibrates under his embrace. Each movement brings you closer to your limit, and an intense shiver sweeps over you, a desperate need to feel him even deeper, even more intensely. Each thrust reverberates in your body, electrifying you. You are suspended between ecstasy and anguish, a puppet in his hands.

He takes you with such intensity that tears well in your eyes, a mixture of overwhelming pleasure and exquisite pain. This crushing sensation overwhelms you, ready to implode, to dissolve in the ecstasy. The tears flow down your cheeks, warm and salty, leaving traces on your fevered skin. Each drop is a confession of your submission, your total abandonment to this chaotic dance where he is your tormentor and your savior.

“That’s what I want,” he growls, his voice husky, charged with desire. His eyes gleam with a wild light, commanding you not to stifle your moans. He deepens his thrusts, filling you completely, pushing you to your limits. The thrill of pleasure and pain merges in a delicious dance, and you feel an uncontrollable heat engulf every fiber of your being. Time seems to stop, leaving only the two of you, enmeshed in this exquisite stupor.

Your body convulses on the table, every tremor triggering a wave of pleasure, taking you to a place where reality dissolves. The sound of the table hitting the floor mingles with your moans, forming a brutal symphony of uninterrupted passion. You are entirely his, ready to sacrifice everything to taste this ecstasy he offers. Your body becomes his playground, and he does not hesitate to conquer it, exploring you with unparalleled voracity.

As he intensifies his pace, each movement becomes a declaration of conquest, a promise of endless pleasure. “You are mine,” he whispers, his warm breath against your skin, his lips brushing your neck with haunting tenderness. His words wrap around you like a vine, imprisoning you in a whirlwind of devouring desires.

He buries his lips in your neck, his teeth biting your skin with a savage force, provoking a sharp pain mingled with delicious warmth. You feel his scorching breath on your flesh, each exhalation seeming to ignite your skin. Your cries of pleasure resonate, blending with the pounding of your heart, as his hand firmly grips your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, marking you as his property.

Heeseung lifts you, moving you effortlessly, positioning you on the chair in front of your desk. Every fiber of your being is in turmoil as he sits, forcing you to climb on top of him. The moment his hard cock slides into your pussy is an explosion of sensations, a mix of terror and pure pleasure. The penetration is brutal, invasive, filling you in a way that erases all rationality.

He pushes even deeper, making sure to touch every sensitive corner of your insides. His movements are powerful, forcing you to ride him provocatively, each thrust resonating like thunder in your flesh. Your body reacts instinctively, arching and grinding to welcome him even deeper. The outside world disappears as you focus on the ecstasy he gives you, a symphony of obscene pleasure.

The moans escaping your mouth become more desperate, a mix of anguish and rapture as you realize you cannot hold back. Your mouth overflows with saliva, your breath becoming chaotic. Your hands cling to his shoulders, nails digging into his muscular skin, seeking an anchor in this storm of sensations. The muscles of his torso contract under your fingers, and you feel the heat radiating from him, burning and imperious.

Heeseung draws his lips to yours, his eyes shining with desire. He captures your breath before plunging his tongue into your mouth, intertwining his movements with yours provocatively. The way he teases you, nipping at your tongue and exploring your mouth with unparalleled savagery makes you shiver. His tongue dances with yours, rubbing against every corner of your mouth, entwining in a sensual struggle as he penetrates you with fiery intensity.

With each thrust, he makes sure to hit that sweet spot you crave the most, his movements becoming more intense, more desperate. You feel like a puppet in his arms, an object of desire that he manipulates at his whim. You are completely his, surrendered to his relentless desire. Your breath becomes chaotic, a blend of sighs and screams, as a wave of warmth engulfs your body, ready to explode.

The sensations become overwhelming, and you feel the orgasm looming on the horizon, a tsunami of pleasure threatening to engulf you. Each thrust is a shockwave reverberating through your body, a perfect blend of pain and pleasure pushing you to the brink of ecstasy. You know you’re on the verge of release, and he knows it too.

He quickens his pace, his thrusts more fierce, more frantic, as if he wants you to feel every inch of him. You cling even tighter to his shoulders, your nails digging deeper into his muscular skin as you try to hold on, but he is too powerful, too dominating. Your moans mingle with his, a symphony of unspoken desires and unquenched pleasures.

At that moment, everything becomes blurry. Pleasure, pain, anguish, and ecstasy merge into a single feeling, an endless spiral of sensations that envelops you completely. You are submerged by an ocean of pleasure, and as the wave of orgasm crashes over you, you scream his name, a cry of despair and jubilation, a silent plea that resonates in the air saturated with desire. In this obscene moment, you know that you belong to him body and soul, that every fiber of your being is devoted to him.

The outside world fades away as you are engulfed by this pleasure. Your heart races, desire consuming you like a raging fire, each pulse resonating in the intimacy of your union. He doesn’t let you go, continuing to take you with animalistic fervor, his powerful and brutal movements causing you to sway even more. The heat rises, your body trembling under each thrust, each push making you lose track of time and space. In this mix of sensations and emotions, you realize that you are completely lost in this moment, and that nothing will ever be the same after this.

Heeseung looks at you with a burning intensity, his dark eyes gleaming with palpable desire, a wild fire that consumes you. Each thrust he gives you is both brutal and exquisite, a frantic rhythm that makes every fiber of your being vibrate. His movements are precise, exploiting your sensitivity like a virtuoso, pushing your body to limits you never imagined. Each brush, each caress, each penetration resonates in your flesh, awakening in you unconfessed desires and unexplored sensations.

In this ocean of sensations, you completely lose track of time. He grips your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, leaving marks on your skin, a delicious pain that heightens the excitement. “That’s it, you love it, don’t you?” he whispers, his voice hoarse and deep resonating in your ear, the heat of his breath igniting you even more. The anxiety mixed with pleasure is like a drug, and you realize you’re ready to sacrifice everything for this moment.

Your heart beats faster as he intensifies every thrust, filling you with him at a frenzied pace, leaving you breathless, gasping. You can feel the explosion of pleasure rising within him, a volcano ready to erupt. His eyes, locked on you, shine with a glimmer of challenge, as if he delights in every reaction his body provokes in yours. He is determined to make you feel everything he has to offer, to make you succumb to his darkest desires.

As he approaches his orgasm, each movement becomes more desperate, more charged with energy. His hips collide against yours with such force that you feel like you’re losing your footing, drowning in this flood of ecstasy. The adrenaline pulses through your veins, each thrust amplifying the intensity of your pleasure, making you scream louder and louder, as if the outside world had disappeared. The world around you vanishes; there is only him and you, two souls intertwined in a wild dance of passion and desire.

Heeseung bites your neck one last time, his teeth sinking into your flesh, a shiver of excitement coursing through your entire body. The pain and pleasure blend, creating an almost addictive sensation. “You are mine,” he growls, his gaze alight with a consuming possessiveness, like an animal marking its territory. It’s a promise, a declaration of war against anything that could separate you, and you feel a thrill of excitement race down your spine.

And then, in one last effort, he climaxes inside you, each pulse of his body sending waves of heat that mix with the sweetness of your pleasure. The sensation is electrifying, every drop of him spilling inside you adding to the ecstasy that overwhelms you, a symphony of pleasure and pain resonating in the warm air of the room. The echoes of his orgasm resonate like an obscene melody, a melody of fulfilled desires that seems to haunt the space.

After this surge, he doesn’t release his hold on you. On the contrary, he gently glides his lips over the swollen and flushed skin of your neck, his searing kisses marking every inch with deceptive tenderness, a delectable contrast to the brutality of your encounters. His hands roam your body, tracing trails of heat and desire, lingering on your curves, intensifying every caress, every brush.

You are both covered in sweat, your bodies glistening in the dim light, a living tableau of passion and debauchery. The atmosphere is charged with desire, each breath and each movement creating an obscene melody that lingers in the air, a silent promise of many more moments to come. You know that this night will mark the beginning of a journey from which you can never return, a path paved with desire and danger.

The school hallways were noisy, filled with shrill laughter and furtive whispers, a cacophony that seemed to mock your loneliness. You walked, your arms laden with thick books and loose papers, a crushing ton of work weighing on your shoulders. The ground, cold and rough, echoed under your feet, but you focused on your destination, your classroom, where you could finally be free of this burden. However, you had barely crossed the threshold of a deserted hallway when a familiar figure approached you with disconcerting confidence.

It was Jeong Jaehyun, a student in your class, known for his arrogant smile and piercing gaze. He had barely broken away from his group of friends when he rushed towards you, a smirk playing on his lips. His eyes were shining with a mischievous glint, like a predator stalking its prey. You felt a wave of disgust rise within you, but you tried to keep a straight face.

“Professor, can I ask you a question?” His voice was smooth, almost honeyed, as he looked you up and down with a disturbing intensity. His gaze was a burning fire, sliding over your body, lingering on your curves, and it made you feel sick. But you hid it behind a mask of calm.

“Yes, Mr. Jeong, what can I do for you?” you asked, forcing a polite smile, though your stomach knotted in revulsion.

“I was wondering…” he began, stepping closer, his tone dropping to a whisper. “If you would mind giving me some more… intimate lessons on the human body, in a more private place.” He stepped forward, his voice almost a whisper, as he stared at your chest with a revealing greed. A shiver of anxiety ran through you as you instinctively lifted the papers to block his view, trying to shield yourself from his perverted gaze.

“What?” you asked, mouth agape, shock and outrage gripping you. Anger swelled inside you, but it was already too late. You tried to back away, to escape his hold, but he grabbed your arm with brutal force, pulling you towards him. The books fell to the floor with a thud, drawing the attention of the students, who watched the scene with mixed expressions of curiosity and disgust. “What do you think you’re doing? Let me go right now,” you growled, your voice shaking with anguish, but he didn’t release his hold, his defiant smile widening.

“Come on, stop being a goody two-shoes. We all know that no teacher has ever attended a Black Apollo Halloween party, but you’re going, right? It’s weird, right?” Jaehyun stated mockingly, his arm holding you captive, crushing your arm with incredible force that made you whimper. The pain was throbbing, but he didn’t seem to care, his satisfaction contorting his face.

“We all know you fuck them, so why not do it with me? I want to mark that pretty body, make you scream with pleasure. Don’t be mean, professor, after all, your job is to teach us everything, right?” His words slid out like venom, each syllable a humiliation, a dull threat. His free hand gripped your jaw, forcing your gaze to meet his. Tears welled up in your eyes, hot and humiliating, as you struggled against his hold.

“Come on, don’t cry, professor, save it for later—”

“What the hell are you doing, asshole? Let her go!” Sunghoon burst forth, visible fury marking his face. His fists were clenched, jaw clenched, his gaze burning with anger at seeing another man dare to touch you like that. An electric tension coursed through the air, palpable and menacing, as Sunghoon walked towards you, a storm in his eyes.

“Sunghoon, don’t you want to share this one with us too? Remember the good old days when you four shared your sluts with the whole school?” Jaehyun snickered, his hand sliding around your neck, forcing you to look at him, to see his satisfied smile. “How about we do this again? It’s not like this slut is special, right?” His laughter echoed in your ears, making you shudder in disgust, a raw humiliation that paralyzed you.

Sunghoon's rage erupted like a storm. With a violent gesture, he pulled you out of Jaehyun's grip, making you take a step back, then, with lightning speed, he grabbed Jaehyun by the t-shirt, pinning him forcefully against the wall. The shocked gasps of the students mingled with the ambient tension, but none of them dared to intervene. Faced with the brutality of one of the Black Apollos, they preferred to remain spectators, fearing reprisals.

“You little prick, you think you can get away with anything because of your father’s lowly position, but today, it’s over. Your father, you and your entire family, you’re finished,” Sunghoon said through gritted teeth, his voice a slick threat, his eyes blazing with rage. He tightened his fingers around Jaehyun’s neck, the fury making him almost unrecognizable, a demon ready to strike.

“Mr. Park, release him right now,” you said sharply, stepping closer to him, placing a hand on his in a desperate attempt to calm him down. He glared at you, maintaining his hold, but seeing your desperate expression, he finally released Jaehyun with an unsatisfied grunt.

“Listen to your bitch, it’s better, you son of a bitch,” Jaehyun spat, his gaze filled with hatred, the smile on his lips a taunt.

In an instant, Sunghoon couldn't contain himself any longer. With a swift movement, he threw a punch at Jaehyun's face, the impact resounding like a clap of thunder. Jaehyun fell to the ground, stunned, his face bruised, but Sunghoon didn't stop there. "What did you just say, asshole? Say it again," he exclaimed, getting on top of him, striking repeatedly, each blow harder than the last. Jaehyun's face covered in blood, but Sunghoon showed no signs of mercy. Rage fueled him, he wanted to destroy this man, make him pay for his audacity, reduce his arrogance to nothing.

Your heart was pounding, gasping in horror as you watched, unable to look away. The brutality of the punches terrified you, and you called for help, but even the students around you seemed frozen, petrified by the violence unleashed before them. Jaehyun's blood was flowing, mixing with the dust on the floor, splattering the wall, your eyes widening at the horror. Each punch Sunghoon threw sounded like a gunshot, vibrating the air around you, as his bloodied fists bore witness to the brutality of his act.

“Sunghoon, please release him,” you tried to say, but your voice was shaking, filled with anguish and helplessness. You desperately tried to reason with him, but he was disconnected from reality, a bloodthirsty beast. Jake, watching the scene with growing concern, came closer, trying to assess the situation while giving you a sympathetic look. “Jake, please do something— Sunghoon is…” Your voice choked as you tried to turn away, but the sound of punches, Jaehyun’s cries of pain, rooted you to the spot.

Jake, aware of your distress, sought to comfort you, but also knew he had to intervene. He walked over to Sunghoon, gripping his shoulders tightly. In a low voice, he whispered something in his ear. Sunghoon then turned to you, but he was only met with your trembling back, and he could hear the sobs you were suppressing. With one last hateful look at Jaehyun, he stood up, his anger at its peak, his fist still clenched.

“Take care of her, Jake, she needs you,” Sunghoon ordered, walking away from the scene as he pulled out a cigarette, his hands shaking with rage, struggling to light it. The smell of tobacco and blood hung in the air, a macabre melody of despair.

“What the hell are you doing here, Y/n? I don’t need you lecturing me,” Sunghoon spat, his raspy voice echoing through the empty staircase, laced with barely concealed contempt. Smoke drifted slowly from his mouth, swirling through the stagnant air like a looming shadow. His gaze, as sharp as a blade, pierced you with its darkness, a silent threat intensifying with every beat of your heart. He stared at you like a predator stalking its prey—still but ready to strike at any moment. Sitting nonchalantly on the top step, he crushed his cigarette under his heel, a cold smile barely forming on his lips, hinting at something sinister.

“I’m not here to lecture you. Show me your hands,” you retorted, your voice harsher than you’d intended, holding out your hand toward him with determination. Inside, your anxiety soared—you hoped he’d obey, hoped he’d let you see how bad it was. But he didn’t move, his cold indifference driving you mad. Your heart pounded harder, fear and anger swirling together in a storm. Your hands trembled slightly, and you decided to act.

Without waiting, you grabbed his hand abruptly, your fingers wrapping around his, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours—a warmth that contrasted with the freezing atmosphere surrounding you. You dropped to your knees beside him, opening the first-aid kit quickly, determined to disinfect the cuts despite his provocations. Every second spent next to him made you realize just how terrifying and captivating he was at the same time.

He stayed still, his eyes locked on you, weighing heavily. “Why are you doing this? Why waste your time on me? I’m not even worth anything,” he muttered bitterly, his words cutting through your heart. But you refused to give in to pity. He suddenly yanked his hand from yours, breaking the contact, and stared at you intensely. “You should’ve stayed with Jake, not come after me. You’re so stupid.” He laughed, the mocking sound slicing through the stairwell like a blade. Yet, you knew that laugh was a mask. Behind that icy exterior, something else was simmering—satisfaction, a flicker in his eyes that no one else could see. He was glad you were there, and he knew it as well as you did.

“Cut the crap, Park, and let me take care of you,” you growled through clenched teeth, your voice trembling with anger you could no longer contain. You tried to grab his hands again, but he stubbornly kept them at his sides, refusing to give in. His resistance pushed you to the edge, frustration boiling inside you. The adrenaline surged through your veins, and before you could think, you shoved him back hard, forcing him to fall heavily onto the floor. His back hit the step with a dull thud, but he didn’t flinch. His eyes, however, gleamed with a new light—darker, more intense, as if he welcomed the challenge.

“Look what you’re making me do,” you hissed, your eyes blazing with defiance as you straddled him, your legs on either side of his hips. The closeness between your bodies made the air thicker, each breath harder to take. He looked up at you, his face half-hidden in the shadows, but you could feel the desire burning behind his dark pupils, the tension between you becoming unbearable, every beat of his heart thudding against yours.

“You should’ve never come here, bunny,” he whispered, his tone suddenly deeper, almost threatening. His hands slid slowly onto your thighs, squeezing your flesh with brutal, possessive force. A shiver ran down your spine, and you couldn’t hide your body’s instinctive reaction to his touch. Every brush of his skin against yours ignited a fire you couldn’t extinguish—a flicker of desire you couldn’t ignore. “Now that you’re here, you’re mine. Until I decide to let you go. You should’ve stayed with Jake, you stupid little girl.” His words were crude, brutal, but he wasn’t just speaking. With a swift, calculated movement, he flipped you under him, his weight pinning you to the ground with relentless force. He dominated you completely, and you felt the air leave your lungs under the pressure of his body, the heat of his skin smothering yours.

“Park, you shouldn’t be doing this. I’m your teacher, remember?” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, but it wavered under the weight of the situation, the intensity of his gaze and his body overwhelming you. Your hips shifted instinctively, struggling to escape his grip, but every movement only increased the friction between your bodies, intensifying the suffocating heat surrounding you. Each second beneath him made your heart race faster, the desperation to escape mixing with a burning anticipation.

“We already fucked, Miss, and your stupid title isn’t going to stop me,” he sneered, his gaze growing fiercer, his hands wandering slowly across your body, as if marking every inch. You could feel his fingers explore every part of your skin, awakening sensations you thought you could control. “But this time, it’s going to be different. Very different. I’ll fuck you with that bastard’s blood still on my hands, and you won’t have a choice but to take it—every bit of it, whether you want to or not. Got it, bunny?” His words hit like blows—brutal and uncompromising—and you felt your body tense under their weight. He held you captive, forcing you to submit to his devastating desire. You were at his mercy, and despite the fear consuming you, a shiver of excitement coursed through you, an insatiable need to give in.

“You don’t have a choice, bunny,” he continued, a twisted smile curling his lips, a promise of both pleasure and pain. He grabbed your wrists roughly, pinning them above your head, leaving you completely vulnerable. With expert ease, he unbuckled his belt in one swift motion, wrapping it tightly around your bound wrists. The leather bit into your skin, cutting off almost all circulation, but you no longer cared. The satisfied smirk on his face made your blood boil with rage—and yet, the desire within you grew stronger, uncontrollable. Each second he maintained that pressure over you amplified your craving for him, creating an electric tension in the air.

“I want to hear you scream my name, so that bastard knows I’m the only one who can fuck you this hard, the only one who can fill every desperate hole in your body.” He leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a cruel tease, never quite kissing you. Your breath was ragged, your body aflame, every nerve taut with anticipation, with the frustration he was inflicting on you. He was playing with you, controlling you entirely, and you felt like you were about to burst under the unbearable tension.

“I thought my bunny didn’t want this,” he mocked, his voice a poisonous whisper as his fingers trailed slowly down your neck, leaving a burning path along your skin. His hands glided lower, barely brushing over your breasts before pulling away, leaving you gasping, desperate for more. He knew exactly what he was doing, and you were powerless to resist, your body betraying you at every turn. Inside, you battled between desire and hatred, between rage and submission—a fight you knew you’d already lost.

“I’m yours, Sunghoon. I belong to you,” you finally whispered, your voice a broken breath, knowing those words were your only way out—the only way to end this perfectly orchestrated torment. Sunghoon’s eyes lit up, a satisfied grin spreading across his lips, a gleam of triumph shining in his gaze. He had won. He always did.

He brought his face closer to yours, his gaze locked on yours like a predator observing its prey. His smirk was a mix of irony and desire, and you knew he wasn’t trying to be gentle. When his mouth neared yours, the air grew heavy, saturated with tension and unspoken promises.

Without a word, he leaned in, his tongue slowly emerging to lick your lower lip. The contact was electrifying, a shiver coursing through your body like lightning. That simple gesture made you moan, a sound that echoed both desire and surprise. Instinctively, you sought to get closer, pressing your chest against his, the heat of your need undeniable. His mocking laugh mixed with your breath, a dangerous melody that made your head spin.

Then, with a sudden burst of hunger, he captured your lips with greedy violence. The kiss was immediately wild, his lips crashing into yours with brutal force, blending passion with possessiveness. His mouth was like fire, scorching and insatiable, each movement resonating throughout your body. His tongue invaded your mouth, exploring with irresistible fervor, as if he wanted to consume you whole.

Each stroke of his tongue was both a caress and a claim. He wasn’t just kissing you—he was devouring you, every press of his lips driving you deeper into an abyss of insatiable desire. You could taste his mouth, faintly metallic, a blend of adrenaline and danger that only heightened the thrill surging between you. His hands, stained with blood, wandered across your skin, leaving burning traces in their wake. They roamed along your waist, sliding up your ribs, pausing to pinch your flesh as if he wanted to mark you, make you his.

His grip was both possessive and gentle, the acrid scent of blood mingling with his musky cologne. He held you against him, his body pressing into yours, making every breath difficult. The heat radiating from him was overwhelming, but instead of fear, it made you crave more. Every movement you made, every sigh that escaped your lips only stoked his desire, and he responded with feral intensity.

The kiss grew rougher, pleasure blending with pain, every bite on your lips, every rough stroke of his tongue sparking a visceral reaction in you. Thinking became impossible; there was only feeling, each sensation heightened to the extreme. His deep, hoarse laughter echoed in your mind, every sound a declaration of his power over you.

Then, in a swift motion, he broke the kiss, leaving a string of saliva connecting your lips, his breath ragged and uneven. He stared at you with unsettling intensity, his dark eyes glowing with a wild gleam. The closeness of your bodies made the air heavy, every breath a struggle. His hands reclaimed your body, sliding over your skin with devastating certainty, making you feel both vulnerable and desirable.

“You’re mine,” he whispered in a hoarse, almost possessive voice, and you knew he wasn’t joking. Passion, violence, and desire swirled within him, and you were ready to let yourself be swept away by this obscene whirlwind, to succumb to the call of his lips and the heat of his body.

He stared at you intensely, his dark eyes filled with voracious desire, and you felt the heat of his gaze on every inch of your skin. His fingers lingered on your white button-down shirt, caressing it gently as if he were exploring prey. A provocative smile curled his lips, a silent challenge, and he couldn’t resist the invitation.

In one swift, brutal motion, he ripped your shirt open, the sound of fabric tearing echoing like a bell of decadence. Buttons flew in all directions, landing on the floor as silent witnesses to your profane act. You gasped, a melody of excitement and surprise hanging in the air, realizing just how vulnerable you were, exposed to his ravenous gaze.

“Sunghoon!” you growled angrily, your face twisting, but deep inside, a shiver of anticipation ran through you.

“Bunny, that was awkward,” he murmured, his husky voice betraying his mischievous amusement. He began parting your shirt, gradually revealing your chest. His fingers glided slowly, and you shivered under his touch, a wave of desire pulsing through your body. The black lace of your bra highlighted every curve, accentuating the display before him.

He paused for a moment, his gaze lost in the sight of your silhouette. He couldn’t completely remove your shirt—your hands were tied with his belt—but that only fueled his desire. He swallowed slowly, licking his lips as he admired your chest, wrapped in the sensual black lace.

“Fuck, professor, you’re such a tease, and you’ve got the body of a slut,” he murmured, his soft voice dripping with palpable obscenity. His words fell like drops of venom on your skin, making you shiver with both pleasure and disgust.

Lying on the cold stairs of the school, where anyone could see you, adrenaline surged through your veins. The idea that someone might walk in at any moment both excited and frightened you. Sunghoon relished the thought; he wanted to display your vulnerability, to prove to all those bastards that only he and his three best friends could make you this way—submissive and eager, desperate for their touch.

“Look how beautiful you are,” he said, bringing his fingers to your skin, barely brushing it. Each touch was a promise of what could follow. A shiver of anticipation ran through you as his hand drifted over the lace, caressing your body with a searing possessiveness.

“No one else can touch you like this,” he whispered, his voice growing more intense, more urgent. “You’re mine, and mine alone.” His words were a sweet poison, a mix of dominance and desire. Your heart raced at the thought of what he might do to you. He leaned closer, his warm breath brushing against your skin, and you realized the line between anger and desire was fading.

He placed a hand around your throat, his fingers tightening gently, but never enough to choke. It was delicate control, a dance between submission and domination. His eyes never left yours, and in them, you saw the shadow of a delicious threat. He leaned in even closer, his lips grazing your ear. “Let go, professor. I want you to feel every second.”

“You’re so beautiful, so desirable,” he murmured with an intensity that made you lose control. His hand slid slowly down your stomach, exploring every curve, every hollow. The heat of his touch sent a wave of desire surging through you, an irresistible pulse.

“I’ll show you how much you can belong to me,” he continued, his voice low and filled with desperate need. His hands explored your body with devastating confidence, tracing fiery paths along your skin. He leaned in to whisper again, “You have no idea what I want to do to you.”

He bent down slowly, his eyes locked on your vulnerable form, his warm breath grazing your skin as he brought his lips to your neck. Every movement was calculated, like a predator toying with its prey. He didn’t stop at kisses—he nipped, licked, marking every inch of your flesh as if it were territory to conquer. His breathing grew heavier as he moved lower, his lips drifting from your neck to your collarbone, from your collarbone to your chest, barely skimming your skin, leaving you panting, starving for more.

His large, powerful hands traced invisible lines along your hips, caressing your thighs with agonizing slowness. He knew exactly what he was doing—teasing you, making you crave. His fingers slid under your skirt, rucking it up slightly, then methodically raising it higher, exposing the bare skin of your thighs. The cool air made you shiver, but it was his gaze—burning with possessive desire—that made you feel exposed, naked under his hungry eyes.

His fingers slipped beneath your panties, barely brushing your wetness, driving you mad with impatience, while your pussy was already drenched with desire. “You’re already so wet, and I haven’t even started…” His voice was low, rough, almost an animalistic whisper, soaked in perverse satisfaction.

He crouches down at your hip level, his eyes piercing every inch of your exposed skin. He gently tugs on the fabric of your panties, letting the elastic snap against your sensitive skin—a reminder of the total control he has over you. Then, with a cruel smile, he slides a finger under the fabric, barely grazing your warmth, giving you only a tiny taste of the pleasure he’s deliberately holding back. “Look at you, already soaked… Pathetic.”

Without another word, he yanks your panties off in a brutal motion, sliding them down your legs. But instead of letting them drop, he presses them against his face, inhaling deeply. His nostrils flare with greed, and a low growl escapes his throat. “Fuck… The smell of your pussy drives me crazy.” His voice is hoarse, almost breaking from the raw excitement seeping through every word. He breathes in your panties again, his gaze locked onto yours, savoring the embarrassment written across your face.

He keeps the panties against his nose a few seconds longer, as if imprinting the scent into his memory. “So fucking good…” he murmurs before stuffing them carelessly into his pocket, as if he’s claimed something precious, a filthy trophy. His fingers now trace the bare skin of your thighs, barely brushing you, just enough to send shivers through your body—but not touching where you need it most.

“Hoon…” your voice is barely a whisper, a mix of protest and pleading, but he doesn’t listen. He’s far too focused on his own pleasure, on the thrill he draws from your complete vulnerability.

“Bunny, don’t even think about getting your panties back.” His smile is anything but reassuring—it’s cruel, mocking, and full of dark promises. “Unless you really want to see me angry.” His fingers graze your skin again, dangerously close to your core, never offering the slightest relief. “You’re mine now, and you’ll do exactly what I tell you.” He leans in, his mouth brushing your ear as he whispers, “You don’t have a choice, and you know it.”

You shudder under the weight of his implicit threat, but before you can react, he violently grabs your hair, yanking your head back and exposing your neck, forcing you to look directly into his eyes. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, professor.” His voice is a sharp command, and you feel your body respond despite yourself. Your breathing becomes erratic, your heart pounding wildly, desire and fear intertwining in a toxic dance.

“Hoon… please…” You barely recognize your own voice, weak and cracked from the mix of desire and shame. But he doesn’t let you finish, a wicked grin spreading across his lips.

“What, already begging, Bunny?” He laughs, a cold, mocking laugh that echoes through the room as he releases his grip on your hair. “I knew you were a little slut, but I didn’t think you’d break this quickly.” His fingers drift lower, barely brushing over your soaked core, keeping you on the edge of pleasure. But he pulls his hand away before you can give in to it. “No, no… You haven’t earned that yet.”

“You’re a disobedient little whore, aren’t you?” His dark eyes glimmer with perverse intent. “But you’ll soon learn who’s in charge here.” He shoves you against the wall, his imposing body crushing yours. Then, before you can say anything, he pulls your panties from his pocket, holding them in front of you like a silent warning.

“Open your mouth. Now.” He growls through his teeth, and you hesitate, but he gives you no choice. His hand grips your jaw roughly, forcing your lips apart, and he shoves your panties into your mouth. The damp fabric, soaked with your arousal, presses against your tongue, filling your mouth with a bitter taste—a mix of saliva and desire. “There we go…” His hot breath brushes against your face as he leans in closer, his gaze locked on yours with an unhealthy intensity. “That’s a much better use for that filthy little mouth.” He pushes the fabric deeper with his fingers until you’re forced to bite down on it, your muffled whimpers trapped behind the wet fabric.

He laughs, watching you struggle weakly, your attempts to speak reduced to faint, stifled moans behind the soaked panties. Saliva drips from your lips, sliding down your chin, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Every breath becomes a struggle, every muffled whimper a cruel reminder of your submission.

“Look at you…” he murmurs, his fingers trailing along your cheek, smearing the drool escaping your mouth, before tilting your face up toward him. “So pathetic… so beautiful… completely at my mercy.” He pinches your cheeks between his fingers, making you feel the wet fabric even more, your mouth wide open—exposed and humiliated.

“And you’ll take it all, because you don’t have a choice. You belong to me.” He loosens his grip slightly but keeps his gaze locked on yours. “This is exactly what you deserve…” His voice is almost tender, but there’s a dark undertone beneath it. “Every second of this humiliation.”

“Now, I’m going to fuck you, Bunny, like the filthy slut you are, and you’re going to love every second of it.” His voice is deep, almost animalistic, filled with raw desire. His fingers dig into your arm so hard you know there will be bruises. He yanks you away from the wall with no care, throwing you brutally onto the school stairs. Your body slams against the steps with a loud thud, the sound of your knees hitting the stone echoing in the empty hallway. The pain is sharp and immediate, but you don’t have time to fully feel it before he’s on you again.

He forces you to stay on your knees, your legs trembling, your knees burning against the rough steps. You try to hold onto the stairs, but with your hands tied behind your back, it’s impossible, and his harsh movements throw you off balance. Your wrists are bound so tightly with his belt that you feel the leather biting into your skin.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, running a hand through your hair—the softness of the gesture violently contrasting with the brutality of the situation. Then, suddenly, he yanks your head back with brutal force. A muffled cry escapes you, your mouth stuffed with your panties, preventing you from screaming, speaking, or breathing fully. “Fucking little slut.”

His hand slides down your back, his fingers grazing your body without a hint of tenderness, as if he has no intention of making you feel good. He rips your skirt off without hesitation, leaving your body exposed, vulnerable. “Did you really think I’d go easy on you?” He laughs, his breath ragged against your ear. “No fucking way—you’re here to be fucked.”

He unbuttons his pants in one swift motion, dropping his boxers to free his erection. He doesn’t bother to warn you or check if you’re ready—he doesn’t care. His hands grip your hips so tightly that you feel his nails dig into your flesh. “You’re going to take all of it, Bunny. Every fucking inch.”

With one brutal thrust, he slams into you. There’s no waiting, no gentleness—just the violence of the first thrust, forcing you to adjust to his size in an instant. The pain steals your breath, and your scream is muffled by the panties in your mouth. Your body tenses instinctively, but it doesn’t stop him. Instead, he laughs, satisfied by your reaction. “Fuck, you’re so tight… You really thought you could get away from me, huh?”

He yanks your hair again, arching your back even more, and drives deeper into you. His thrusts are feral, brutal, as if he wants to leave a mark inside you, a permanent reminder of this day. “Look at you, on your knees, unable to say a word, just good for being fucked like the bitch you are.” His voice is raspy, each word spoken between ragged breaths of pleasure.

Your face is pressed against the cold, rough steps, the abrasive texture scraping your delicate skin. With every thrust, your body is pushed forward, each movement triggering a sharp wave of pain that radiates through your legs, making every nerve vibrate. Your knees scrape against the steps, an intense burn intensifying with each passing moment, but you’re frozen, unable to move. His hands, powerful and relentless, hold you firmly in place, trapping your body under his control.

You feel a mixture of fear and excitement. The tension is palpable, your heart pounding wildly as he forces you to stay there, submissive to his will. The words that leave his mouth echo like an implacable order: “You’re going to take every fucking inch, and you better not make a sound.” His voice is rough, laced with desire, each syllable a challenge you’re eager to meet.

Sunghoon keeps slamming into you, his thrusts brutal, each one resonating through your body with wild intensity. His movements are fast and chaotic, as if he’s completely losing control, surrendering to the primality of his desires. Each thrust is an explosion of pleasure and pain, pulling you deeper into a whirlwind of contradictory emotions.

Every muscle in your body tenses, gripping around him with fierce intensity, anchoring you to reality while his violent movements leave you barely able to breathe. The brutality electrifies you, each impact sending obscene waves of pleasure that grow stronger with every second. You feel both vulnerable and incredibly alive, as if every thrust affirms your submission but also celebrates your insatiable desire.

His hands, powerful and possessive, grip your waist tightly, the control he exerts over you making you shiver with excitement. The pain becomes a burning caress, a reminder that you are here, entirely his, belonging to him in this savage dance. Every fiber of your being responds to his dominance, a mix of anxiety and pleasure sending you into a trance-like state.

Suddenly, his pace shifts. His thrusts become deeper, harder, forcing you to feel every inch of him inside you. He pounds into you mercilessly, relentlessly. “This is what you need, huh? For someone to remind you of what you really are, just a filthy little slut.” He tightens his grip on your hair, yanking your head back so hard your scalp burns from the tension.

The pressure around your throat becomes unbearable, each second stretching endlessly. You choke, the forced angle flooding you with pain, making your breath short and ragged. Your muffled whimpers struggle through the air, but he hears them, and it only fuels his savage desire. You know he delights in your weakness, that every sound you make feeds his consuming pleasure.

“Yeah… whimper for me, little bunny. Whimper while I wreck you.” His voice reverberates in the space, a blend of softness and menace that sends chills down your spine. Sunghoon doesn’t just dominate you; he bathes in your pain, turning it into a melody that enthralls him. You feel his body against yours, his warmth surrounding you, his musky scent overwhelming your senses, deepening your trance.

The taste of danger and the forbidden stirs something within you, an insatiable desire you can’t ignore. As his hand tightens around your throat, the suffering intertwines with a delicious pleasure. Every stifled moan you let out becomes an offering, a plea that spurs him on. In a surge of madness, you realize you want this—that this blend of pain and ecstasy ignites you like nothing ever has.

He loosens his grip slightly, giving you a brief chance to catch your breath, but just as you begin to feel relief, his hand clamps down again, wrenching a cry from you. “That’s it, my little bunny. Let yourself go.” His words are like strokes against your skin, a promise of dark and unexplored delights. The tension between you is electric, every touch, every gesture amplifying the thrill of the forbidden.

You realize you’re entirely at his mercy, and that’s precisely what makes you tremble. Your body responds to every impulse he provokes, a wild dance between submission and ecstasy. The tears streaming down your cheeks are both from pain and pleasure, bearing witness to your devotion, and you savor them. It’s debauchery, a release, and you’re ready to lose yourself in this carnal obscenity.

He yanks his hand from your hair with brutal force, only to wrap it around your throat. His fingers squeeze with savage strength, evoking a sensation both terrifying and intoxicating. As he begins to tighten his grip, the world around you darkens, your breath strangled. You choke, your body arching under his control, desperately fighting for air, but he doesn’t relent. On the contrary, he tightens his hold, savoring every second of your delicious agony.

His fingers dig deep into your skin, leaving red marks as proof of his authority. You feel your heart race frantically, caught between the pain and the pleasure that now seem inseparable. Each tiny whimper that escapes your lips is a desperate yet thrilling plea. He plays with your suffering, giving you just enough breath to remain conscious and feel every moment of what he’s doing to you.

“That’s right, choke for me… choke while I fuck you.” His voice, hoarse and brimming with desire, resonates like a promise, an invitation to lose yourself in this depravity. His words coil around you, devouring you, fueling the fire burning within. And you realize, with disturbing elation, that you love this. Every surge of pain that floods through you only brings new waves of pleasure.

Your body convulses under him, every muscle taut from the crushing grip on your neck. Heat floods your face, a testament to the mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. Your vision blurs, a halo of darkness creeping in as your desperate need for air transforms into a delicate dance between anguish and pleasure. Silent tears stream down your cheeks, tracing burning paths before falling onto his powerful fingers, tightening around your throat like an invisible chain.

But he shows no mercy. If anything, he revels in it, finding pleasure in your suffering, in your total submission. Every whimper muffled against your underwear is music to his ears, and he keeps going, relentless, tightening his grip with a satisfied grin. Sunghoon’s veins bulge in his neck from the effort, his gaze a blend of dominance and hunger, locked onto you.

Despite the pain, your body responds to his dominance. He forces every fiber of your being to surrender further to him, and you feel an uncontrollable heat stir deep in your core. Your breathing becomes increasingly shallow, each gasp a desperate struggle. Your chest heaves frantically, searching for air, but he holds you firmly, making it clear that this control belongs to both of you—and yet to him alone.

“Fuck, look at you, you’re perfect…” His voice echoes in the charged air, thick with primal desire that makes you shiver. He loosens his grip on your throat slightly, giving you just enough air to gasp frantically. It’s a fleeting reprieve, a moment suspended in time, but you know it’s temporary. Before you can truly feel relief, his grip tightens again, his fingers clamping around your windpipe, depriving you of the oxygen you so desperately need.

Your legs tremble under his weight, every muscle in your body burning. Your knees, scraped raw against the steps, sting with fiery abrasions, but you no longer have the strength to fight. He has all the control. Submission morphs into a trance, a dance between pain and pleasure where you feel both vulnerable and incredibly alive.

Every second stretches, making you aware of every detail. Your heart pounds wildly in your chest, a relentless drumbeat accompanying your struggle for air. He watches your every movement, his dark eyes glimmering with possessiveness. You are both his prey and his treasure, and he knows it. His grip on your throat becomes both an act of domination and a promise of indulgence.

You feel the heat of his body against yours, his breath warm against your skin. In this obscenity, he plays with your limits, testing the strength of your will. Each added pressure on your throat pulls you deeper into a blissful haze, a dance between pain and ecstasy. You know you should fight, that you should break free, but part of you rejoices in this submission. It’s as if every shallow breath, every whimper from you, is an offering, an admission of your dark desires.

He revels in his power over you, and you can’t help but respond to it. The pleasure you feel is unspeakable, yet it’s there, burning and vivid, wrapping around you like a serpent. Your will slowly dissolves, and in this submission, you find a strange freedom. You love it, you want it, and you’re ready to lose yourself entirely in this sea of unleashed desires.

His rhythm grows faster and faster, each thrust shaking you with a savage intensity, pinning you against the cold, hard steps. Your body is drenched in sweat, the heat of your skin contrasting with the stone beneath you. Your face is soaked with tears and saliva, each drop a testament to your complete surrender to this overwhelming passion. You can’t do anything anymore—just endure, letting yourself be swept away by the tide of sensations surrounding you. And he knows it; he feels your submission, and it drives him wild with desire. “Fuck, you’re so good when you’re out of breath like this,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse and filled with satisfaction.

He pushes you even harder against the steps, your knees almost digging into the stone from the force of his body. The pain becomes a kind of pleasure, a confusing blend that vibrates through every fiber of your being. The rough stones remind you of your position, making you feel vulnerable yet incredibly alive. He finally releases his grip on your throat, giving you a brief moment of respite—just enough to gasp for air—before he grabs your hair again. He yanks your head back with a brutal force that makes stars explode behind your eyes, the mixture of pain and excitement sending shivers down your spine.

“You’re gonna take it all, every last drop.” His words resonate like a disturbing promise, and you know he isn’t just talking about himself. Not by a long shot. Every syllable carries weight, a command that urges you to accept your fate. You feel his body press tighter against yours, his musky scent intoxicating you as you remain completely at his mercy.

Sunghoon brings his free hand to your face, a satisfied grin lighting up his expression as he pulls the saliva-soaked panties from your mouth, tossing them carelessly somewhere on the steps like discarded trash. “I wanna hear all those dirty little sounds when you come—don’t hold back,” he says in a rough, animalistic voice. His words hang thick in the air, heavy with tension, as he intensifies his thrusts. Each movement shakes you violently, sending you spiraling into a chaotic storm of sensations. The vibrations of his body against yours drag moans from your throat, escaping uncontrollably.

“Hoon… harder,” you whisper, your voice laced with desperation and need, saliva dripping down your chest as your eyes widen, lost in a sea of pleasure. Every thrust reverberates through your body, each impact filling you with a relentless heat that drowns and disorients you. You hover on the edge between pain and pleasure, every second stretching into agonizing ecstasy.

“You really are a slut,” he sneers, his tone laced with cruel amusement as he grows even more brutal, his pace picking up with a consuming ferocity. He releases his grip on your hair and grabs your bound wrists, holding them firmly behind your back to reinforce your submission and prevent you from escaping. Every motion is a declaration of his dominance, leaving you feeling both vulnerable and needy, every part of you craving him.

His hand glides slowly to your mouth, pushing his fingers inside with a gesture as possessive as it is humiliating. You eagerly take his fingers in your mouth, sucking them hungrily, your saliva coating them as if offering him a sacred tribute. The intensity of the sensations coursing through you is devastating, your tongue wrapping around his fingers, sucking with desperate need. “Fuck, bunny, you take me so well in every one of your holes—so perfect for me,” he groans, his eyes dark with insatiable desire. His words hit you like a drug, intoxicating and igniting you further.

Each stifled moan you release only fuels your arousal. You suck his fingers deeper and harder into your mouth, lost in a blend of pleasure and pain. Every movement of his body against yours is a wave crashing over you, leaving you longing for everything he has to give. The way he possesses you sends shivers through your spine, each thrust making you lose more control over your body as the heat of your impending orgasm begins to consume you.

Sunghoon slowly pulls his fingers from your mouth, dragging his palm over your soft skin, tracing imaginary lines across your chest. Each touch ignites an unbearable heat within you. With calculated precision, he twists the tips of your nipples, tugging violently, leaving slippery trails of your saliva on your skin. The pain is both exquisite and agonizing, each pull sending electric shivers through your body. A strangled moan escapes your lips, a desperate plea for more—more of his attention, more of his desire that wraps around you like a thick fog.

But he doesn’t grant you a moment’s relief. In one swift motion, his saliva-damp hand slips lower, forcing its way between your trembling thighs. His fingers find your clit, brushing it with calculated gentleness that makes your hair stand on end. Then, his touch becomes rougher, pinching and rubbing with increasing brutality. Each caress feels like a whip, awakening an insatiable hunger within you. Your clit, subjected to his relentless attention, amplifies the heat building in your core like a raging fire consuming everything in its path.

“Come for me, bunny,” he growls, his voice thick with a primal promise. His gaze is that of a predator—hungry, eager to devour every part of you. He intensifies the rubbing, his slick fingers driving you further into the abyss of pleasure, pushing you closer to the edge. The anticipation coils inside you like a spring about to snap, your entire body tightening in preparation for release.

Suddenly, the orgasm crashes over you. A guttural cry tears from your throat as your body convulses, your muscles clenching under the overwhelming wave of ecstasy. Time seems to stop, every second stretching into infinity as you surrender to the wild pleasure. But Sunghoon isn’t done—not by a long shot. He doesn’t let you escape so easily. He doubles down, his thrusts becoming more furious, more frantic, each movement driving you to new peaks of pleasure. The orgasm that had begun to fade is reignited, turning into a wild dance between pain and bliss.

He leans in, his lips grazing your skin with a disconcerting tenderness, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. His scent—a mix of musk and sweat—intoxicates you, plunging you deeper into this state of euphoria. You are his toy, and he’s only just begun to play. Each stroke against your clit tears at the boundary between ecstasy and suffering, and you realize you are completely at his mercy, trapped in a whirlwind of brutal and delicious sensations.

“Again,” you whisper, desperate to prolong the moment, eager to explore just how far he can take you. With a predatory smile, Sunghoon answers your plea by increasing the intensity of his movements. Your hips buck, trying to escape the merciless dance of pleasure, but he holds you firmly in place, locking you against him. Each thrust of his body against yours is a reminder that you are prey, a creature of desire under his control.

The thrusts continue, relentless, leaving you breathless and desperate, each push devouring a little more of you. The room fills with the sounds of your moans and the raw noises of your bodies colliding—a symphony of unfiltered pleasure that reverberates through the air. You are caught in a cyclone of sensations, your mind lost in a swirling storm of need, surrendering entirely to the intoxicating rhythm of your connection.

The tension rises again, and you know you’re about to explode once more. His movements become almost frantic, leaving you breathless, desperate, chasing that ultimate moment of release. Reality dissolves, leaving only the raw essence of your connection—a delicious dance of desire, pain, and possession. Sunghoon has turned you into a creature of pleasure, completely dependent on him, and he savors every second you’re at his mercy.

The outside world blurs as you lose yourself in ecstasy, each movement and touch pushing you closer to the edge. You are entirely his, a toy in his hands, and the depth of his desire for you leaves you speechless. Sunghoon is a master, and you are his submissive, ready to abandon everything for him, ready to dive deeper into this obscene and primal world he’s created for the two of you.

Each breath you take is filled with the intensity of his desire. The way he touches you, the way he penetrates you, is a promise of savage pleasure—a silent cry of possession. And just as you’re about to give in, you realize you want it all, over and over again, lost in the whirlwind of sensations slowly consuming you.

With a final, powerful thrust, you both reach a peak of pleasure. A guttural moan escapes your lips, echoing in the warm air of the stairwell. His cum spurts inside you, a burning flood filling your pussy, every drop marking you in an irreversible way. Both of you are out of breath, gasping for air, as the warmth of orgasm envelops your bodies, leaving a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your skin.

He lets his heavy body rest on yours, pressing your back against the step with a primal force. Each breath you take is a struggle—a mixture of excitement and pain—as he sinks deeper into the position. His muscular arms wrap around your waist, his hands exploring every inch of your damp skin, tracing lines of searing desire that make every fiber of your being tremble.

Sunghoon kisses your neck, his hot, wet mouth gliding over your skin, planting feverish kisses as if marking his territory. His tongue lingers on your collarbone, following the curve of your body, sliding between your breasts. Every movement draws you closer to complete submission. He lingers on every sensitive spot, gently nibbling your skin, electrifying you with new sensations as if determined to strip you of all reason.

Each caress is charged with wild passion, exploring the limits of your pleasure. His mouth travels down your body, his tongue tracing sinuous patterns. It pauses on your stomach, gliding around your navel before slowly working its way back up with exquisite slowness. You shiver under his touch, the heat of his breath against your skin making you vibrate from within.

When he finally pulls out of your pussy, a mixture of your cum flows down the stairs, a white, glistening trail that bears witness to your animalistic union. The sight is both filthy and deeply erotic—a visual reminder of your carnal connection. You feel the warm mixture sliding down your thigh, each drop reminding you of the raw passion you shared.

He straightens slightly, his piercing gaze locking onto yours, a wild and possessive gleam in his eyes. “Look at what we’ve done,” he murmurs in a hoarse voice, laced with satisfaction. He savors the moment like a hunter admiring his prize, every drop of cum on your skin a mark of his domination.

With a predatory smile, he leans in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “You have no idea what I’ve got planned for us.” The promise sends a shiver through you, your body still vibrating with echoes of the orgasm. Anticipation rises within you again, a delicious thrill for what’s to come.

He begins to explore your body once more, his hands gliding over your skin, each touch igniting a burning desire. His fingers trail along your thigh, making their way to your core, ready to make you relive that obscene pleasure. You are at his mercy, entirely submerged in the intensity of his desires. Every movement of his body against yours reminds you how deeply bound you are to him, shackled by an insatiable longing.

As the excitement builds once again, you realize you are willing to do anything for him, ready to dive even further into this savage world he has crafted around you. You are his prey, his toy, and you’ve never felt a desire so powerful, so irresistible.

The roof remains silent, barely disturbed by the soft breeze sweeping through, but this tranquility is nothing more than a fragile illusion. You stand there, frozen, your gaze locked on him, your heart pounding against your chest like a trapped animal. Park Jeongseong, sitting nonchalantly at the edge of the roof, doesn’t even bother to look at you. He smokes slowly, each drag lingering in the air like a provocation. That small, insignificant gesture drives you mad with rage. You want him to respect you, to take you seriously, but you know you’ve lost even before starting. His indifference crushes you.

His silhouette is imposing, even in that relaxed posture. With his legs slightly apart and his back curved backward, he seems to own the entire space as if he were its undisputed king. And you? You’re just a mere teacher, pathetic in your attempt to restore some semblance of authority. Your hands tremble slightly at your sides, but you refuse to show it. The slightest sign of weakness would be a victory for him, and you won’t give him that satisfaction.

“It’s forbidden to smoke here.” The words come out sharper than you intended, but your voice quivers slightly. He must hear it, sense it — that insidious doubt creeping into every word you utter. Jeongseong finally turns his head towards you, slowly, as if granting you the bare minimum of attention. His gaze pierces through you, cold, devoid of emotion. Yet behind that mask of indifference, you sense a latent violence, a promise of something far darker.

He stares at you, his eyes trailing lazily over your body, as if appraising every curve, every inch of your skin. Even clothed, you feel exposed, vulnerable. His gaze burns you like a fire, a silent judgment reducing you to prey under his hungry eyes. And what terrifies you the most is that unsettling sensation spreading within you—a shiver running down your spine under his scrutiny. You hate it. You hate this reaction, this sickening warmth pooling in the pit of your stomach.

“It’s also strictly forbidden to have relationships with students.” His smile, though cold, carries heavy insinuations, his lips barely curling, as if every word he speaks is a whip’s lash. There’s a hardness in his voice, a palpable threat hanging in the heavy air between you. He isn’t merely speaking—he’s gauging you, analyzing you, like a predator watching its prey. The cigarette dangles at the edge of his lips, smoke rising lazily, creating an almost hypnotic aura that keeps you hooked.

His dark eyes narrow slightly, sharpening the piercing coldness of his stare. Every feature of his face exudes overwhelming control, a crushing dominance. He knows you’re unsettled, that his authority drives you mad with desire and frustration. The tension between you is electric—a taut wire on which he plays, making the moment even more irresistible.

“I’m your teacher.” Your voice grows stronger, but you feel the tension within you, ready to snap at any moment. Yet he laughs—a low, deep laugh that resonates through the air, wrapping around you like a suffocating web. He openly mocks you, not even bothering to hide it. To him, you’re ridiculous—an insignificant creature trying in vain to appear powerful.

With a sudden motion, he rises, carelessly tossing his cigarette to the ground. He crushes the butt under his shoe with deliberate slowness, his eyes locked onto yours. Every movement is calculated, every gesture a direct challenge to your authority. He approaches with that slow, feline stride, like a predator closing in on its prey. The air thickens with tension, each step echoing in the oppressive silence of the rooftop.

“Teacher?” he murmurs, stopping just inches from you. “Are you sure about that? ’Cause right now, it looks like you’re begging me to fuck you like the dirty little slut you are.” His words hit like a slap—vulgar, cruel. Your heart skips a beat, and disgust washes over you. But what terrifies you most is the involuntary response of your body—the throbbing between your thighs, the tension building uncontrollably within you.

Before you can react, his hand is on you. He grabs your wrist roughly, yanking you against him. Your body crashes into his, and you immediately feel the stark difference between you. He’s massive, every muscle tensed beneath his clothes. His grip is iron, and you realize just how powerless you are against him. You try to pull away, but he tightens his hold.

“Let me go!” you spit, your voice laced with panic. But he only smiles—that smug, condescending smile that makes you want to throw up. His hand slides down your arm, then grips your waist, digging into your flesh with raw possessiveness.

He slams you violently against the wall, the impact knocking the breath from your lungs. Your back hits the concrete, and a dull pain spreads through your body. You try to scream, but he presses his body against yours, leaving you barely enough air to breathe.

“What were you expecting, coming here all alone?” His breath is warm against your ear, carrying the scent of cigarettes mixed with raw desire. “Did you really think I’d leave you alone?” His fingers glide along your neck, sliding down to your cleavage, tracing a burning path on your skin. He toys with the edge of your blouse, tugging slightly at the fabric, revealing just enough skin to make you shiver.

“Stop it!” You try to resist, but your voice cracks under the strain, weak and desperate. His fingers dig deeper into your flesh, and a nauseating wave of heat floods your lower belly. You hate yourself for reacting like this, hate the way your body betrays you every second.

His gaze locks onto yours, his eyes dark as a void. “You can act like a prude all you want, but we both know what you really want.” His lips graze your ear, his voice a whisper, obscene and poisonous. “You want me to take you right here, on this roof, where anyone could see. You want me to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk afterward.” His words cut like knives—sharp, brutal. They tear you apart inside, and yet a twisted part of you responds to every syllable, writhing with desire under his control.

With a swift motion, he rips your blouse open, buttons flying in every direction. The cold air strikes you, leaving you half-naked in front of him, vulnerable, exposed. His eyes roam over your chest with indecent greed. “Look at you, all laid out… It’s pathetic.” A cruel laugh escapes him before he grabs your chin, forcing your head up to meet his gaze. He savors your humiliation, relishing your vulnerability.

His hands grow rougher, gliding over your body with calculated violence. He grabs your breasts through your bra, squeezing with painful force. You stifle a cry, but he doesn’t stop. His gaze remains cold, detached, as if he’s merely toying with an object. His fingers slip beneath the fabric, tugging at your bra until it comes free.

His fingers trace your skin slowly, then wrap around your throat—a cruel, methodical caress, almost sadistic. The pressure is just enough for you to feel the grip tightening, without cutting off your air entirely. You gasp for breath, your lips parting in a desperate attempt to inhale, but each breath becomes a struggle. The world around you starts to fade, leaving only him, your blurred vision focusing on his face, masked in darkness, with that predatory gleam in his eyes.

He forces your chin up, exposing the vulnerable curve of your neck. His warm, heavy breath mingles with yours, creating an unbearable tension between you. “Look at yourself,” he murmurs, his voice low, rough, almost possessive. “You pretend to resist, but your body’s already betraying you. Every inch of you is screaming for me to take you, to burn you to ashes, doll.” His words drip with cruelty, every syllable seeping into your skin like venom. A wave of impotent rage rises in your throat, but it blends with guilty desire—something far more unsettling, a sinister shiver that coils in your belly, deepening your confusion.

His free hand trails down your bare arm, his cold, merciless fingers dragging slowly. He takes his time, savoring each second, until he grabs your waist with a brutal grip, his hold fierce and overwhelming. His fingers dig into your flesh as if he’s trying to mark you, imprint his presence deep within you. The intensity of his touch makes your heart race erratically, and you hate yourself for feeling this primal response. Your breathing grows more erratic, and you want to scream at him to let go, to let you breathe—but your body… your body is a traitor, yielding to this brutal, perverse sensation wrapping around you, swallowing you whole in a cocoon of devouring desire.

“Tell me you don’t like this,” he murmurs, his voice a rough whisper against your ear, his lips grazing your skin like a venomous snake. “Tell me you don’t want me to take you here, against this wall, to fuck you until you’re nothing but a broken mess at my feet.” His hand slides back up to your breast, his fingers wrapping around your flesh with brutal possession. He squeezes hard, without mercy, and a strangled moan escapes your lips. The sound—this mix of frustration and arousal—scorches your cheeks with shame, but the intensity in his gaze makes you falter.

You want to spit in his face, scream that he’s a monster, that you’ll never let him win—but the words remain stuck in your throat, smothered by pain and humiliation. You feel trapped, chained to this unbearable sensation driving you to self-loathing. And he knows it. He sees it—every detail of your body caught in this internal struggle. His eyes gleam with sick satisfaction as he continues to torment you, each movement a new blow to your soul. The pleasure he takes in your suffering only deepens your despair, dragging you further into the darkness he seems to revel in.

“You have this defiant look, but your body knows exactly what it wants,” he says, his hand slowly sliding down your stomach, inching dangerously close to the spot where you know he could completely break you. Every touch is a promise of both pain and pleasure. Your breathing quickens, and panic rises within you like a devastating tide

“You think you can resist me? Is that what you believe?” A sarcastic, cruel laugh escapes him before he forces you to meet his gaze, gripping your jaw with an almost animalistic violence. “No one resists me, doll. No one.”

You try to fight back, but it’s futile. He’s too strong, his grip too tight. He slams you harder against the wall, his hips pressed against yours, locking you in place. His hard, powerful body crushes you, leaving no room to move. The sense of submission, the weight of his desire, crushes every ounce of resistance in you. You are entirely at his mercy, your mind spinning between fear and a disturbing curiosity. Every word he speaks resonates in your head like a sentence, a proclamation of his dominance.

“Look at what you’ve become,” he whispers against your cheek, his lips brushing your skin slowly, provocatively, as if savoring every moment of your defeat. “You’re already mine, you know that. Your little authoritative teacher act won’t change a thing. You’ll end up on your knees, like all the others… broken and obedient. And believe me, doll, you’re going to love it.” His words drip with menace and excitement, the echoes of his power pounding in your heart.

His hand slips even lower, sliding under the hem of your skirt, his grip unrelenting. A wave of horror crashes over you, but you’re completely powerless. He already has you, mind and body. The heat of his body pressed against yours, this suffocating closeness, stirs a confusing desire within you. Your legs tremble under the weight of his presence, and your muscles tighten, unable to hold you up against the force of his total domination.

“Please…” The word escapes in a broken, barely audible breath, and you curse yourself for letting such weakness show. That single whisper, laden with vulnerability, seems to delight him, as if he’s achieved his ultimate goal. His dark, victorious laugh echoes in the room like a macabre melody.

“Please?” he repeats slowly, as if savoring the sound. “You don’t even know what it means to beg yet. But you will. I’ll make you plead like never before. And you’ll love every second of it.” Every word he utters lashes your already weakened mind like a whip.

Jay grabs you suddenly with terrifying violence, like a wild animal out of control. His fingers close around your wrist so tightly you can almost hear your skin tear under the pressure, leaving bright red marks where he grips you. He jerks you sharply, pulling you against him with such force that you lose your balance and slam into his hard chest. Before you can even process what’s happening, his lips are on yours. But it’s not a kiss.

No, it’s an attack.

His lips crush yours with a savage fury, his teeth immediately sinking into your lower lip until it bleeds, tearing a cry of surprise and pain from you. But he doesn’t care. He gives you no reprieve, no time to catch your breath or fight back. His tongue plunges into your mouth like a weapon, seeking to destroy, to break you down with the brutal force of his assault. The taste of your own blood, mixed with his rough saliva, creates a brutal blend of pain and raw desire.

His movements are messy, almost desperate, but relentless. His tongue crashes against yours with a violence that steals your breath, forcing you to yield, to bend under his control. Each deeper thrust makes the air harder to find, leaving you gasping, suffocating under the weight of his dominance. You try to push him away, to make him let go, but his hand clamps violently around your neck, locking you in place. He forces you to feel everything, to endure it all.

His free hand roams roughly over your body, grabbing your hip with such force that you feel his fingers dig deep into your flesh, leaving instant red marks. He’s not just touching you—he’s claiming you. His fingers slide under your skirt with a ripping force, shoving the fabric aside to expose your bare thigh, which he scratches with his nails and grips with inhuman strength. The cold air of the room clashes violently with the overwhelming heat of his touch. His body, hot and unyielding, presses against yours, making you feel every muscle, every erratic beat of his heart.

With a brutal yank, he grabs your hair, forcing your head back to expose your throat. His eyes, dark and clouded with desire, glimmer with something even darker, more savage. There’s nothing human left in his gaze, only a ravenous hunger to reduce you to nothing. His mouth trails down your jaw, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. And then, without warning, he bites. Hard. Too hard. Pain explodes in your neck as his teeth sink into your tender flesh. Your scream is swallowed by the shock, by the sheer force with which he holds you. Your body arches under the assault, a brutal mix of pain, terror, and a burning heat building deep in your core.

You feel the blood trickling slowly from the bite, seeping into the folds of your neck, sticking to your skin. But the sight of it only excites him further. Jay growls against you, a sound primal and animalistic. His lips latch onto the wound, licking the blood with a morbid eagerness. You tremble, lost in the violence of his actions, your body betraying you by responding to the intensity.

There’s no escape. His body crushes you against the wall, every movement reminding you just how completely you are at his mercy. You are trapped between his raw strength and the cold, unyielding wall behind you.

He returns to your mouth, and this time, it’s worse. His kiss is torture. His lips are drenched in blood, and his teeth clash against yours with a brutality you can’t avoid. He splits your lip open once again without remorse, and this time, the blood flows freely between your tangled mouths. He growls against your lips, drinking the mixture of blood and saliva with brutal pleasure. He isn’t kissing you—he’s devouring you. Every movement of his tongue is an invasion, every press of his lips a destruction. You drown under the obscene pain and pleasure he imposes on your body.

His hand moves lower, gripping your thigh roughly and lifting it with inhuman strength to press you even closer to him. You feel the weight of his body against yours, his hard, animalistic desire rubbing against you uncontrollably. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thigh, yanking harshly, forcing your body to bend to his will. You feel trapped, swept away by this wave of brutality and wild desire that overwhelms you. You suffocate under the stifling heat of his closeness, yet your body responds against your will, yielding to every movement, every brutal caress, and every tearing bite.

Blood and saliva mix in your mouths, and Jay seems insatiable. His lips keep returning to your throat, your face, biting, licking, savoring every mark he leaves on you. He humiliates you with his violence, with the way he reduces you to something fragile and vulnerable beneath his relentless hands. But your fragility only excites him more, making him wilder, more ravenous. His growls against your skin grow rougher, more savage, and you feel the suffocating heat of his body pressing into yours.

He bites your lower lip a third time, drawing a pure cry of pain that vanishes into the heavy air. The metallic taste of blood floods your mouths, but he still doesn’t let go. His tongue teases the wound, licking and sucking the blood with an almost animalistic greed. His violence knows no bounds, and you realize he won’t stop until you are completely his, broken under his primal desire.

He bites, licks, and tears at your skin over and over, wrenching cries from you that you can’t hold back. When he finally pulls away, your lips are smeared with blood and saliva, an obscene and wild spectacle. He pants against you, his hot breath caressing your skin, raw from his bites, and his eyes shine with cruel satisfaction, nearly deranged. But he isn’t done—not even close.

Jay grips your shoulder roughly, his hold so tight that the pain radiates through your entire body like a shiver. His fingers dig into your flesh with such intensity that you almost collapse under the pressure. In one merciless move, he forces you to kneel before him, demanding your obedience with no trace of gentleness. Your knees hit the cold, hard rooftop with a painful thud, tearing a cry from you. The sharp sting of pain burns, but the humiliation of the moment stings even deeper, dragging you into a desperate state of submission.

He stares down at you, his gaze dark, wild, and brimming with desire. “Now, I’m going to fuck that pretty little teacher mouth of yours, and you’d better take it all,” he says, his voice rough like shattered glass. His predatory smile reveals white teeth, ready to devour their prey.

He leans toward you, the aura of a hunter surrounding him. His hand slides slowly to your wounded lip, still bleeding, caressing the torn skin with excruciating slowness, his fingers sinking into your flesh with bestial intensity. A moan of pain and pleasure slips from your lips, impossible to suppress. Anticipation and terror twist inside your belly, each second heightening the tension between you.

He chuckles, a dark and suffocating laugh, satisfied with your suffering. “You taste so good,” he murmurs, his voice vibrating with desire. Every movement of his hand is deliberate, cruel. He pulls his bloodied hand away and rubs it against your cheek with perverse delight, marking your skin with his possessiveness. Your wide eyes follow his every move, mesmerized by the horror of the situation.

“Look at me,” he commands, his voice a terrifying whisper. Your heart races, caught between fear and fascination. His dark eyes gleam with animal hunger, drowning you in a sea of devouring desire. “I want you to feel every second of this,” he says, a smug smile curling his lips.

Jay leans closer, his mouth mere inches from yours, breathing in your pain and pleasure. The air between you is heavy with tension, and an irresistible heat builds inside you, your body reacting involuntarily to his presence. In one swift motion, he grabs your jaw and forces it open slightly, his brutal fingers pressing into your flesh, making you meet his gaze.

“You’re not going to disappoint me, are you?” His words are both a threat and a command. He watches you with such intensity that you shiver, excitement thick in the air.

“No, Jay, I won’t disappoint you,” you whisper weakly, your voice barely audible. Your wounded lips throb with pain, and the metallic taste of blood still lingers in your mouth. The bleeding slows, but the burning sensation grows stronger, each heartbeat amplifying your suffering.

“Open your mouth wide for me.” He releases your jaw and starts unfastening his pants. Your lips part painfully, and a whimper of discomfort escapes you. He watches the mixture of saliva and blood pooling in your mouth, groaning in satisfaction as he imagines how your throat will stretch and mold around his cock.

When he finally pushes his clothes down to his feet, you salivate at the sight of his hard, flushed length, a bead of pre-cum leaking from the tip.

He slowly brings two fingers to your lower lip, a sadistic smile playing on his face. You know he’s about to make you suffer, yet a part of you burns with desire at the cruel anticipation. With a brutal pinch, he squeezes your wounded lip, forcing fresh blood to spill into your mouth. The metallic taste spreads on your tongue as you whimper, a sharp sound that betrays you. But his dark gaze pins you in place, like prey trapped by its hunter. He relishes your pain, his mocking laughter echoing like a macabre melody in the cold air.

You squirm slightly on the frozen rooftop floor, trying to ease the unbearable tension building between your legs. Every movement seems to ignite an even more ravenous hunger in him, and he leans toward you, a predatory smile stretching across his lips. His fingers, slick with his saliva, approach your parted mouth.

“Stick out your tongue,” he orders, his rough, commanding voice cutting through the night. You hesitate for a moment, but the intensity of his gaze compels your submission. You obey and extend your tongue.

He stares at you intensely before leaning even closer, like a predator about to strike. In one swift motion, he grabs your tongue between his fingers, his nails digging into your tender flesh. A sharp pain floods through you, and you feel blood bead again, mixing with your saliva as he plays with your tongue like a child with a toy. Anxiety paralyzes you, yet somehow, this pain awakens something dark and deep inside you.

A strangled sound escapes your throat, a cry of surprise mixed with pain, as he abruptly pulls his fingers away, giving you barely enough time to catch your breath. Panic overwhelms you, but before you can process what’s happening, he thrusts his cock deep into your throat. The shock is devastating. Every inch of him buries itself in you, reaching the back of your throat and robbing you of breath in a twisted mixture of pleasure and agony.

His cock glides over your tongue, and the tight grip of your throat around him makes you lose all sense of time. Each second stretches into an endless torment, a delicious torture. He starts to move, his rhythm violent, almost animalistic. Each thrust grinds against your injured tongue, torn by his brutal assault. The metallic taste of your blood mingles with his precum, and a wave of heat surges through you, bringing tears to your eyes. But he doesn’t care in the slightest.

He grabs your hair with a savage grip, yanking hard to assert his dominance. He forces your head down, driving himself deeper, as if determined to make you his toy, his instrument of pleasure. Every movement is an act of control, a reminder that you are nothing more than a prop in his filthy fantasy.

“I want you to move your fucking tongue for me, professor, and coat my cock with your blood,” Jay growls, his hoarse voice cutting through the thick tension. His words are harsh commands, leaving no room for refusal. You know you have no choice but to obey, despite the disgust warring with the twisted excitement swelling inside you. He pulls harder on your hair, forcing you to take him fully, turning your mouth into nothing more than a hole for his satisfaction.

Your tongue starts to move against him, gliding and curling around his cock, smearing your blood along his rigid skin. The mixture of pain and submission draws a broken moan from you, a desperate sound that hangs in the air. Tears spill from your eyes, blending with saliva, blood, and precum dripping from your mouth, creating a grotesque mess on your face. Your suffering only fuels his savagery. He doesn’t slow down, continuing to thrust deeper with every stroke. Each push feels like a whip against your tongue, another reminder of your helplessness beneath his insatiable desire.

The scent of your own blood mixes with his musky odor, driving you into a state of hysteria. Anxiety and disgust tangle with an unspoken desire rising within you. He offers you no reprieve; every thrust of his cock shatters your control further, drowning you in a sea of despair and violent satisfaction. Saliva and precum flow down your neck, pooling on your bare chest—each drop a reminder of how completely he owns you, how thoroughly you belong to him in this twisted dance.

You are a living mess, a puppet in his hands, a flesh-and-blood doll at his mercy. And amidst this obscenity, something inside you stirs. A ravenous desire for this brutal and animalistic submission awakens. Pain morphs into ecstasy; each thrust, each movement, deepens your weakness. Somewhere inside, you begin to crave this humiliation, this desperate need to be broken under his control.

With a sadistic smile, Jay brings his free hand to your dripping face. He watches with delight as the mixture of saliva and blood spreads across your skin. His finger dips into the sticky mess before smearing it further, every motion accentuating the chaos he has created.

He doesn’t stop there. He continues to pound into you with beastly force, pushing your throat beyond its limits. The sensation is both excruciating and euphoric, each thrust dragging muffled cries of agony and pleasure from your constricted throat.

With his other hand, he grabs your hair with merciless strength, preventing any attempt at retreat. He pulls you down onto him, forcing you to swallow him to the base, cutting off your breath entirely. The pressure is crushing, and you feel like you’re drowning beneath his dominance. Holding your head firmly against his pelvis, he commands your full submission to his savage desire.

In a twisted act of defiance mixed with insatiable submission, you grip his ass. But instead of pushing him away, a primal urge drives you to keep him buried deep in your throat. An overwhelming heat surges through you, awakening an uncharted need for the control he exerts over you.

Your tongue, now eager, explores every inch of his cock, caressing and teasing with a wicked tenderness. It glides over him, dancing along his skin with fervent lust, while your throat contracts around him, holding him in this wet prison. Tears stream down your cheeks, mingling with the sweat and grime on your face. Through the haze of tears, you watch him, every detail of his face etched into your mind.

His satisfied smile widens as he keeps thrusting into you, each stroke resonating like a declaration of his dominance. You feel every hit, every movement of his hips crashing down like a wave of violent desire, drowning your consciousness. You belong entirely to him, and that thought only fuels the fire of your submission.

He abruptly pulls you away from his pelvis, barely giving you time to breathe, but his grip on you remains firm. Jay plunges even deeper into the abyss of your mouth, pressing his body against yours with beastly force. His thrusts are relentless, each motion driving into your throat as another statement of his control. The pressure is overwhelming, and your head tilts back under the assault. The pain is both devastating and exquisite, a confusing blend that sweeps you into a whirlwind of adrenaline.

A final guttural growl escapes from his throat as he reaches his climax. His semen floods your mouth, scorching hot, overtaking you entirely. You feel each drop spreading across your tongue, the salty, bitter taste filling you as he continues to thrust brutally, his manhood crushing any trace of hesitation. He doesn’t withdraw until you’ve swallowed everything, forcing you to gulp down every drop, savor the filth, and absorb his essence completely.

As you struggle to take it all in, the pain and pleasure intertwine, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. His movements grow even more intense, each thrust resonating like a cry of defiance. You are here, fully submitted, lost in a trance where suffering becomes your new reality. Every moan you let out is an anthem to his dominance.

When he finally pulls out of your mouth, a strand of saliva mixed with blood connects his length to your lips, leaving them shiny and defiled. The metallic taste of blood mingles with his semen, creating an indescribable flavor—grotesque and a stark reminder of the act’s brutality. His manhood bears traces of blood, evidence of the intensity of this invasion. It’s a sordid image, a painting of debauchery and possession, and you realize you’ve become the canvas for his darkest desires.

Adrenaline pulses through your veins, each breath heavy with electric violence. You are trapped between pain and pleasure, your mind dissolving under the ecstasy of his control. As he gazes at you, he sees his reflection in your submission, like a puppet in the hands of a merciless puppeteer.

“I want you, Jay, please fill me,” you plead, your voice hoarse and trembling with desperation. On your knees before him, your face, still marked by your previous debauchery, is drenched with tears streaming down your cheeks. Every tear is a testament to your desperate need. Your fingers dig into the skin of his thighs, clinging to him as if it were your only salvation.

“Who’s begging to be fucked, doll?” His low, raspy voice rumbles like thunder in the confined space. He leans in slightly, his fingers sliding through your hair, stroking it with a perverse tenderness that makes you shiver. Each caress, each touch, pulls a soft moan from your lips, even though a part of you trembles at the violence simmering beneath his desire. His mischievous grin, a blend of arrogance and fascination, reveals the intensity of his craving. “Come on, say it, doll. I know you know it.”

He lowers his hand, brushing over your chest marked with saliva and blood. You shiver under his touch, excitement and fear sparking through every nerve in your body.

“Your filthy little teacher slut.” A defiant gleam shines in your eyes, and though you surrender to his desire, you don’t hesitate to reclaim your power. “Your cock-hungry teacher, who belongs to you. So please—”

Before you can finish, Jay lifts you abruptly and slams you against the wall with brutal force, making every bone in your body tremble. The pain of the impact is sharp, but it makes you smile, aroused by this sudden submission. Your legs wrap instinctively around his waist, desperately seeking contact, and his mouth crashes into yours, devouring your lips with insatiable hunger. Each kiss is an act of possession, every press of his lips a reminder of his control over you. The taste of his semen on your lips doesn’t deter him; instead, it seems to intoxicate him further, fueling his desire to claim you.

His hands roam your body with animal impatience, lifting your skirt and exposing your skin with a brutality that makes your heart race. In an instant, he rips off your panties, the fabric flying through the air as a symbol of your submission, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable under his ravenous gaze. Then, without any warning, he slams into you. The pain is sharp, but it mixes with overwhelming pleasure, an intoxicating blend of ecstasy and suffering. You moan, your voice breaking under the brutal impact, each thrust resonating through every fiber of your being—a symphony of desire and pain.

“You love this, don’t you?” he whispers, his voice hoarse with possessiveness and challenge. He intensifies his thrusts, driving himself deeper into you, the walls around you trembling under the force of each movement. Every stroke is a wave of sensation, a whirlpool of pleasure and pain that leaves you craving more. You feel like a prisoner of the moment, held captive by his desires, yet paradoxically free—liberated by the sheer savagery of his act.

Your body responds uncontrollably, your eyes fluttering as a tidal wave of pleasure crashes over you, nearly unbearable. The rooftop air tightens around you, but all you can think about is him. Your moans, mingled with sweat and blood, are a chaotic blend of anguish and excitement. Each breath fans the fire burning inside you.

He leans down to kiss your mouth, each kiss an act of possession. His taste mingles with yours, a delicious obscenity, and you lose yourself in this dance where disdain and devotion intertwine in a bestial impulse. You are both prey and predator, lost in this wild embrace of raw desire, each movement bringing you closer to ecstasy. The pain of his brutal entry is already a distant memory, replaced by an unparalleled pleasure that carries you beyond reality.

The thrusts become more savage, more desperate, as you surrender all your inhibitions. Each slap of his hips against yours is a whip to your mind, plunging you into a complete loss of control. You know you are at his mercy, but you crave this moment, this animalistic embrace that tears you apart and fills you at the same time.

You cling to him as if your life depends on it, your fingers digging into his solid shoulders. Your nails sink deep into his skin through the taut fabric of his t-shirt, leaving red marks under the pressure. This fabric is but a thin, almost useless barrier between your unleashed desire and his flesh. Your mouth slightly open, you let out loud gasps, your tongue slipping from your trembling lips, unable to stay still as every brutal movement of his hips drives you further into surrender.

The way he fills you shatters all sense of control. Your core is flooded, hungry for him, each thrust ripping you apart with a violence that makes you see stars. You can’t keep your mouth shut, your breath short, and the uncontrollable pleasure wipes away all modesty. You feel your body tremble, and your eyes roll back, betraying your state—a total submission, a complete surrender to what he is doing to you. His burning gaze remains locked onto yours, intensifying the hold he has over you. He knows you belong to him, that he can break you at will, and that thought excites him even more.

His fingers grip your face with a force that almost hurts, his thumbs sliding over your sweat-soaked, tear-streaked cheeks. He growls between clenched teeth, his movements becoming more erratic yet also more violent, each thrust deeper, as if trying to possess you beyond the physical. He penetrates you so hard that you can feel every inch of him stretching you, forcing you to embrace all his length, to absorb all his rage.

“Bite me, doll, I want you to mark me,” he murmurs in a hoarse voice, thick with desire and contained violence. His lips brush against yours as he whispers those words, and immediately, your body reacts. A guttural moan rises from your throat, uncontrollable, almost primal. His fingers slide to your neck, applying a gentle yet threatening pressure.

Without thinking, you bury your head into his neck, your lips grazing his hot, sweat-slicked skin. But the fabric of his shirt prevents you from tasting him completely, and this barrier frustrates you. With a growl of discontent, you violently tug at his t-shirt, nearly tearing it apart, exposing the bare skin you crave so much. Starving for him, your lips press against his neck with wild eagerness, leaving wet kisses on his taut skin, each contact pulling you closer to madness. His salty sweat fills your mouth, and you can feel his pulse racing under your tongue, a frantic rhythm, just like yours.

Your moans resonate in the air, uncontrollable, but he seems unsatisfied. Each sound you make, every tremor of your body seems to trigger something darker within him. His thrusts become more erratic, more violent, as if he were trying to tear you apart. His hips slam against yours with brutal force, and the pain mingles with pleasure, inseparable, leaving you unable to distinguish what is pleasurable from what is unbearable.

And then, without waiting any longer, you open your mouth, biting into his skin, testing his limits. He growls in satisfaction, his body tensing, but it’s not enough. You want more. You sink your teeth into his flesh with ferocity, breaking the skin, savoring the metallic taste of blood that instantly fills your mouth. His reaction is immediate, a groan of pleasure vibrating through his body against yours. It’s not a cry of pain; it’s a deep, visceral sound, a sound of pure satisfaction.

The blood flooding your mouth is warm and thick, and you drink it as if it were forbidden nectar. You lose yourself in this moment, in this shared savagery. He loves it—he loves the pain, he loves the mark you leave on him. And you, you drown in this violence, in this brutality that consumes you whole.

In a swift motion, his hand wraps around your hair, pulling your head back violently. Your body arches at the impact, and a sharp cry escapes your lips, but he doesn’t wait for you to catch your breath. His lips crash against yours, now bloodied, in a fierce kiss, his teeth biting your lower lip, his tongue invading your mouth with an intoxicating brutality. You can still taste the salt of his sweat mixed with the blood soaking your lips. He devours you, and you let him, drowning in this violent exchange, in this raw domination he enforces.

His movements never slow down. On the contrary, they intensify, becoming more desperate, more profound. He literally pins you against the wall with each thrust, tearing you apart from the inside, reaching depths you never knew were possible. Every inch of your body is filled by him, every nerve ignited by the delicious pain of this brutality. You are completely at his mercy, and he knows it. He has broken you, reduced you to a state of total submission where all you want is more of him, even if it destroys you.

His breath becomes heavier, his growls mixing with yours in an animalistic cacophony. There is no tenderness left in this exchange; only this visceral, brutal urgency remains. You can feel him close, his movements growing more erratic, more desperate. He takes you as if he is going to tear you apart from the inside, but you ask for more, always more.

In a final surge, he makes you tip over, your body crashing violently against the wall as he takes you again, harder, deeper, without mercy. You’re nothing but a puppet in his hands, your body shaken by each violent thrust, and you can no longer think, nor breathe properly. You belong to him entirely, at this very moment, reduced to a state where only pain and pleasure coexist in perfect destructive harmony.

Your body ignites as he plunges into you, an intense heat building with every thrust. The orgasm overwhelms you violently, a wave of pleasure that makes you lose all sense of time. His cock finds your G-spot with bestial precision, triggering waves of sensations that make you scream, your moans echoing. The wall seems to vibrate with the rhythm of your pleasure, and all you can feel is this inexorable rise consuming you.

You ejaculate on him, a torrent of pleasure crashing against his muscular abdomen, soaking his waist. The heat of your body and the moisture of your orgasm mix, forming a delicious concoction of unfulfilled desire. He doesn’t stop, continuing to thrust you against the wall, his movements becoming more and more frantic, as if he wants to mark you as his property. Each thrust is a lash, a brutal reminder of his dominance.

Feeling his own orgasm approaching, he intensifies his movements, his sweaty skin sliding against yours. He growls into your neck, a guttural, bestial sound that vibrates through every fiber of your being. His teeth sink into your flesh, and the pain makes you moan with pleasure. The metallic taste of your blood awakens something primal in him, and you can feel his excitement growing with every passing second. It’s a blend of pleasure and pain, a precarious balance between dominance and submission.

You feel like prey, completely at his mercy as he takes you with brutal intensity. His body presses against yours, each movement heightening the sensation of possession. He finally releases himself inside you, a wave of heat that makes you quiver around him. Your muscles contract uncontrollably, each pulse pulling you back into this bestial, obscene, raw reality.

The sounds of your bodies colliding fill the air, a savage symphony of moans, screams, and growls. The outside world disappears, leaving just the two of you, trapped in this obscene moment. The sensations intertwine, the pain of his bites and the pleasure of his body inside you creating a dangerous dance where the line between pleasure and suffering blurs.

The intensity of each moment becomes unbearable, and you feel ready to explode under this pressure. His hand slips between you, his fingers finding your clitoris, playing with controlled brutality, intensifying your pleasure even more. He looks you in the eyes, a wild glimmer in his gaze, as if he savors every second of your submission, your pain. “I’m going to make you break,” he murmurs, his voice rough and full of obscene promises.

It was an ordinary Friday night, one of those evenings when the world seemed to fade away around you, where everything became frozen, suffocated under the weight of your own torments. The bar, steeped in a damp, smoky atmosphere, stood as a refuge for lost souls, those who, like yours, sought to escape a sordid reality. Sitting alone at a secluded table, hidden in a corner where darkness enveloped you, you let yourself be engulfed by increasingly obscene thoughts, a glass of whiskey in hand. It might have been your fifth, maybe the sixth; it didn’t matter at this point. You had stopped counting the drinks, just as you had abandoned the idea of measuring the mistakes that marked your life.

Each sip of whiskey was a delicious burn, a blend of alcohol and nectar that erased reality, immersing you in unspeakable fantasies. The intoxication didn’t just numb you; it awakened an unquenchable fire within you, a heat that you could no longer extinguish. It wasn’t just the whiskey warming your belly, but the incessant thought of those four students… gods of flesh and blood: Sim Jake, Park Jeongseong, Lee Heeseung, and Park Sunghoon. Each of them, in their own way, had left a burning imprint on your soul. The mere thought of them was enough to provoke an uncontrollable shiver throughout your body.

These Black Apollos, as they liked to call themselves, haunted you. Every day, every night, you saw them, and with every exchanged glance, your mind wandered into thoughts you should never have had. Their burning eyes seemed to tear through your clothes, exposing every part of you, even those you had carefully hidden. It was as if they knew everything about you, every corner of your body, every flaw in your soul.

Three of them had already crossed that fatal line, enveloping you in a perverse game where you were their puppet. Heeseung had been the first, luring you into his web with disconcerting ease. The memory of that moment was etched in you, and with every thought associated with it, a guilty warmth spread through your lower back. He had taken you with calculated brutality, his rough hands gripping you without gentleness, a cruel smile on his lips as he forced you to bend under his insatiable desire.

You remembered his warm breath on your neck, his fingers sliding recklessly under your clothes, exploring your skin as if it were his property. He had left you no chance to escape his grasp, reducing you to an object, a doll without will. Each thrust was an affirmation of his total control over you, and with every muffled cry you let escape, you felt your submission strengthen.

And then there was Sunghoon. His domination was more subtle, almost insidious. He played with you, manipulating your desires like a master puppeteer. He made you believe you still had a semblance of control, only to yank it away in an instant, leaving you at his mercy, vulnerable under his hungry gaze. His fingers, so skillful, traced lines of fire on your body, brushing just enough to drive you insane, never giving you what you truly desired. His words, whispered in your ear, were a bittersweet poison, commanding you to submit, to let your basest instincts take over.

You had hated him for that, and you had hated yourself too. But despite everything, you kept going back, again and again, thirsting for the delicious humiliation he made you endure.

Jeongseong, or Jay, as he preferred to be called, was the cruelest of all. His icy calm concealed a silent violence, a contained rage that exploded every time he touched you. He loved to see you suffer beneath him, twisting you with pleasure and pain intertwined, pushing you to the brink until you couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t just seek to possess you; he wanted to break you, and in his eyes, you saw that mad desire to see you on your knees, begging for a little respite. Every mark he left on your skin was a trophy for him, a proof of his victory over you.

But there was also Jake. Sim Jake, the enigmatic one, the one who hadn’t touched you yet, and maybe that was what drove you crazy. His silence was more oppressive than anything else, a heavy weight of promises and threats. His dark, piercing eyes often scrutinized you from afar, as if waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He knew you were already broken, already kneeling inside, and that was what amused him. He saw you as prey, prey that knew it had no chance of escape.

You remembered every exchanged glance with him, every barely-there smile, as if he were telling you, “Patience, my turn will come.” And that was what terrified you as much as it excited you. You knew that when he finally decided to make you his, there would be nothing left of you. He would leave you no way out, reducing you to a state of ruin.

With each sip of whiskey, these thoughts became clearer, more obsessive. You imagined yourself, there, in that dark room, kneeling before them, their possessive hands taking hold of you, their bodies pressed against yours, crushing you under their domination. Their power overwhelmed you, and you knew you could do nothing but submit. You pictured their hands on your skin, sliding along your curves, their merciless fingers tracing paths of fire on your bare flesh.

Every movement of their bodies against yours made you shiver, transporting you to a world where pain mingled with pleasure, where every sigh was a silent prayer, a plea for more brutality, for more control. They enveloped you, possessed you entirely, and you lost yourself in the feeling of being their thing, their toy to use as they pleased.

The idea of becoming their willing slave, their toy, made you lose all sense of reality. You could already see yourself in their arms, torn between shame and ecstasy, between the desire to flee and the urge to let yourself be completely devoured. You were ready to abandon everything, ready to plunge into the abyss of their cruel games, ready to kneel before them and offer them everything they wanted. Because deep down, you knew that was what you desired most.

The campus parking lot is empty, the setting sun casting long shadows on the pavement. You are crouched down, leaning over the side mirror of a car that isn’t yours. The light plays on your face, highlighting your perfect makeup, but a dull irritation bubbles inside you. This place disgusts you, and each passing day makes you want to flee farther away, to distance yourself from the four students you hate just as much as you love. As you adjust your lipstick, you feel a mix of desire and anger, a need to escape and free yourself from this prison.

Suddenly, the car window rolls down with a creak, and you instinctively straighten up, your heart racing. A man appears, Sim Jake. His disheveled, almost wild hair gives him an air of danger, a brutal sensuality that irresistibly attracts you. Your stomach tightens as he fixes his gaze on you, his dark, piercing eyes scanning every curve of your body. He watches the arch of your back with such intensity that you feel like he can read your darkest thoughts. An unquenchable desire to please him overwhelms you, to show him how much you long to be the one he dominates.

He lets out a soft chuckle, his laughter vibrating with mockery. With a casual gesture, he runs his hand through his hair, making it even more tousled, and this sight ignites a wild desire within you. Your gaze lingers on his muscular neck, the way his muscles are defined under his skin, making you want to touch him, to mark your possession on him. You swallow hard, a wave of heat rising from your belly to your chest.

“Professor, don’t tell me you’re spying on me,” he says, his voice laced with sarcasm, a mischievous smile on his lips. You remain frozen, unable to respond, every muscle in your body tense from a combination of desire and fear. “You know it’s a crime, mommy.” His words wrap around you like a vine, holding you captive in his grip.

You try to pull away, but he suddenly grabs you by the hand, making you bend down even more as he seizes your neck, pulling you toward him. Your head slips through the lowered window, and your eyes lock with his, burning with desire and defiance. He moistens his lips, and that gesture compels you to bite yours, an uncontrollable urge to want to kiss him.

“Don’t play with me, mommy,” he whispers, his voice husky, as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours. In a surge of raw passion, he bites your upper lip, making you stop biting your lower lip. The pain is sharp, but it’s quickly followed by a wave of pleasure, leaving you trapped between desire and pain. He also catches your lower lip, nibbling it slightly, drawing a moan from you, a melody of pleasure and pain that encourages him.

The murmurs around you fade into distant echoes, barely perceptible in your mind, completely submerged by the man who dominates you. Students and professors stop, stunned by what they see, but their judgment no longer matters. Everything disappears, and only Jake and his grip on you remain, his fingers firmly wrapped around your neck, keeping you captive under his burning gaze. The world seems to shrink, reducing itself to him alone, to the promise of chaos and raw pleasure he embodies.

You feel every warm breath he exhales against your skin as a silent promise of what’s to come. An almost overwhelming sexual tension radiates from him, leaving you breathless, unable to focus on anything other than how he manipulates you, from his calculated caresses to the underlying violence pulsing in his movements. His breath lingers near your lips, so close you could almost feel their warmth, but he plays with you, like a predator savoring the suffering of its prey before devouring it.

Adrenaline floods your body, your muscles tense, and a delicious dizziness grips you. Nothing makes sense, yet everything seems perfectly aligned in this moment of madness. “Jake… not here,” you manage to articulate weakly, your voice broken, torn between the reason that still tries to resist and the burning desire that blinds you. But he just laughs, that rough, threatening laughter igniting your senses. The sound reverberates in your head, pulling you even further into this irresistible spiral.

“This is precisely the perfect moment, mommy,” he replies, a smug smile stretching across his lips. He loosens his grip on you slightly, causing you to lean back, your balance teetering dangerously, as if the world is collapsing around you. But he catches you before you fall, holding you tightly between his grip and the car, firmly captive. His movements are calculated, violent in their gentleness, and yet you’ve never felt such a need for him, such a craving for what he can give you.

Then, he opens the car door with a deliberate motion, careful not to touch you, and steps out, his eyes sweeping over the stunned faces of the students and professors surrounding you. He revels in their stares, feeding off their disapproval and shock. It only strengthens his hold on you. The mocking smile forming on his face is a silent declaration: they can judge you all they want, but you belong to him, completely, and he feels no shame in proving it to you here, before their eyes.

Slamming the door shut, he approaches you, grabs you by the waist with brutal force, and violently slams you against the car body. The handle digs into your back, triggering a dull pain that mingles with the ecstasy awakening within you. You let out an involuntary moan, weak and broken, but he hears it, and it encourages him. The gazes around you multiply, curious and shocked, but all you can feel is Jake’s grip and the fire burning within you.

“You’re going to show them how much of a slut you are, alright, mommy?” he murmurs against your neck, his voice hoarse and burning, full of obscene promises. His teeth nibble delicately at your skin, sending electric shocks through your entire body. The sensation makes you shiver, and he notices it. His lips slowly trail down your neck, each kiss reinforcing his claim over your body. Every caress of his tongue, every bite leaves a burning mark on your skin, making you increasingly vulnerable to him.

“I want you to moan for me, and show them who can make you this stupid,” he whispers, his words cutting through you like a whip. His hands slide under your top, fingers gliding across your skin, pausing just under your breasts for a moment. The threat of his brute strength lingers, even as he caresses you provocatively, deliberately slow, leaving you to languish.

“You’re going to show those sons of bitches, aren’t you, mommy?” He asks you, fingers lingering on your ribs, making you shiver under his touch. Then they rise slowly, sensually, toward your breasts, and you hold your breath, suspended between anticipation and overwhelming desire. But he doesn’t grant you any respite, grabbing your hair to pull it sharply back, exposing your throat. The pain mixes with a blazing ecstasy, leaving you floating between the two, unable to resist the grip he has on you. “I said, didn’t I, or are you already too stupid to answer?” he growls, his cruel words resonating in your muddled mind, dragging you even deeper into this total submission.

“Yes… Jake, I can do it,” you manage to say, your voice trembling, broken by desire. Your entire body is on fire, every fiber of your being calling for more, demanding the complete surrender he demands.

“You’re so nice to me, mommy,” he murmurs, his lips grazing yours, barely brushing your mouth from which a trickle of saliva slowly drips. His eyes glimmer with mischief as he extends his tongue to lap at your saliva, savoring every drop with a perverse pleasure. This act is a provocation, a clear sign that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, and that you can do nothing to stop him. The heat rises within you, inevitable, each brush of his tongue fanning the flames inside you.

Adrenaline pulses through your veins as you press further against the car, desperately seeking to escape the pressure that crushes you. “Kiss me, Jake… please, I can’t wait anymore.” Your pleading tone makes him smile, and he senses your impatience, your desperate need for him. Seeing you so vulnerable, your knees rubbing against each other in search of a little friction, makes his groin throb with desire, a promise of immeasurable pleasure.

And you can smell his arousal, his need almost tangible piercing through the fabric of his pants. The scent of his masculinity, mingled with your own desire, overwhelms you, and you moan in pleasure as you press against him, rubbing against his member, feeling every pulse through your body. The tension rises further, the excitement pushing you to want more.

Jake slams you harder against the body of the car, your back pressing against the unforgiving coldness of the metal. His lips crash against yours, forcing you to tilt your head back until it strikes violently against the hard surface of the car. The impact shoots through you, a blend of sharp pain and troubling pleasure, merging into the intensity of sensations that collide within you. His tongue invades your mouth with unyielding aggression, probing every corner, as if trying to claim every part of you. His movements are brutal, a dance of relentless domination, each stroke of his tongue asserting his presence, leaving you powerless under his total control.

Your breath becomes erratic, caught in your throat as he almost suffocates you with his presence. His lips are hard, unyielding, and saliva begins to mix quickly, flooding your mouth. You try to keep up with the frantic pace, but he controls you, his movements much faster and more brutal. He nibbles at you, pulling lightly on your lower lip before diving back in, and you taste his sweet and bitter flavor asserting itself, your tongue powerless to do anything but submit to his.

Slobber flows freely. It quickly builds up, a sticky sensation overwhelming your mouth, inevitably spilling over your lips. You try to swallow, but you are already submerged. A thick trail of saliva starts to run from your jaw, tracing a wet path down your neck. It weaves between your breasts, sliding under your clothes. The warm, moist stickiness makes you shiver, a mix of shame and raw excitement leaving you panting. Each drop of saliva that escapes your mouth is another mark of how he sullies you, and the thought of being like this, exposed to everyone’s gaze, makes your head spin.

Jake doesn’t slow down. His kiss becomes increasingly disorderly, savage. The rhythm intensifies to the point where you feel he wants to crush you. His lips are brutal, smashing against yours without any tenderness. He slobbers profusely, saliva continuously overflowing, making the exchange even filthier, more primal. The obscene noise of fluids mingling with your stifled moans creates a symphony of indecency that only you two can hear amid the shocked whispers of onlookers.

His hand grips your hair violently, pulling with a sharp yank. You cry out, a mix of pain and pleasure bursting from your lips, but he doesn’t care. His fingers dig into your scalp, pulling even harder to expose you, forcing your face to tilt back. Your neck stretches under the pressure, a perfect curve he totally dominates. His eyes, burning with desire and cruelty, lock onto yours as he looks at you, a smug smile twisting his features. He knows you are his, entirely. And he savors every second of this submission. He leans down slowly, his tongue darting out to lick your neck with a calculated slowness, leaving a trail of hot saliva on your already sweat-dampened skin. You shiver, the sensation consuming you from the inside, your body responding immediately to this humiliation.

He descends, deliberately, biting your skin until red marks are left, his teeth sinking in just enough for the pain to mingle with pleasure. Each bite is a new mark of his territory, each scratch of his teeth on your delicate skin plunging you deeper into this abyss of submission. You can’t help but moan, your sounds blending into the suffocating heat surrounding you.

Jake finally pulls back, straightening up, his gaze still fixed on yours. “Do you want me to do something for you?” he asks, his voice hoarse and laced with mischief. He waits, leaving you trembling under this promise. His hands rest on your hips, gripping almost painfully tight, and you know it’s up to you to decide what comes next. The pressure of his fingers against your flesh reminds you of how he has control, yet a part of you desires to break this barrier, to take that risk.

You lean slightly forward, your voice a mere whisper charged with desire. “Yes, Jake… I want you to take me.”

He bursts out laughing, a vibrant and almost malevolent sound, before plunging back into your lips, his kiss igniting, mixing desire, domination, and this insatiable madness that consumes you both.

The air around you is thick, saturated with the musky scent of his excitement, mixed with the sweat and saliva that flows freely. The humidity becomes unbearable, almost toxic, but you crave more. This suffocation only feeds your need. You feel the heat rising sharply within you, an uncontrollable blaze, as he presses harder, almost pushing you through the car. Your senses are overheating, every friction, every contact amplifying your desire to the point of obsession.

His breath is heavy against your ear, and when he speaks, his voice is hoarse, laced with venomous arrogance. “You’re going to remember this, fuck…” He pants, his movements becoming more frantic, more urgent, his words slipping into your foggy mind. “You’re going to remember how I humiliated you here, in front of everyone…”

The words carve into your mind like blades. Shame and excitement violently intertwine, leaving you on the brink of collapse. Your body vibrates under his grip, every fiber of your being burning with desire. Your vision blurs, as if the world around you is disappearing. All that remains is him, his body against yours, his total domination, and the guilty pleasure that continues to grow.

Jake turns you around with brutal force, slamming you against the car in a deafening crash. Your palms smash against the cold window, the impact resonating through your body like thunder in the storm of your excitement. The heat of his body, intense and overwhelming, mingles with the coldness of the metal, creating an electric tension in the air. He groans against your back, his words resonating like an obsessive and irresistible promise. “Now, mommy, I’m going to take care of you.” His warm breath, heavy with desire and domination, caresses your ear, and a shiver of excitement runs down your spine, making you emit an obscene, almost involuntary noise that betrays your anticipation.

He pulls away slightly from you, his powerful hands sliding down your skirt, slowly lifting the fabric with an exasperating slowness, as if he takes sadistic pleasure in torturing you. When he uncovers your buttocks, trapped in a completely wet thong, soaked with your excitement, a satisfied, carnivorous smile spreads across his lips. The curious whispers of the people watching you intensify around you, their hungry and disgusted gazes a mix of envy and judgment. “Look at all those bastards hungry for you, but who can only brush against you from afar with their looks, because you’re mine, aren’t you, mommy?” His voice is full of contempt and possessiveness, each word a whip to your reason, making you lose all sense of dignity. He laughs, a salacious and provocative laugh, as he kneads your buttocks with brutal force before slapping them violently with his ring-adorned fingers.

The pain makes you moan, a sound that is both of suffering and pleasure, the rings sinking into your skin, leaving marks that testify to his dominance. “Yes, Jake, I belong only to you!” You cry out, your voice tinged with despair and enthusiasm, as he snickers, proud to see you at his feet, exposed and vulnerable like never before. The scent of your fear mixed with your excitement fills the air, making the atmosphere even more charged.

“Yes, that’s right, mommy, you’re mine, and the whole damn school will know it today.” He slides his fingers over your buttocks, his caresses becoming more insistent, more violent, before tearing the fabric of your thong effortlessly, a savage act that makes you emit a sound of discontent mixed with excitement. “They’re going to know how much of a fucking slut and cock-hungry teacher you are, my cock.” His words, like an intoxicating poison, degrade your being, raising the atmosphere to an unbearable level of tension, a delicious mix of shame and desire.

“Now, turn around, I need to feast on you.” He tells you in a hoarse, almost guttural voice, as you slowly turn around, facing him. At that moment, you realize that some students and teachers, caught up in this disturbing spectacle, have already dropped their pants, their hands eagerly caressing their members. Heat rises to your cheeks, but it’s not just embarrassment; it’s a savory humiliation that ignites you from within. You look away, feeling the humiliation overwhelm you, but that only exacerbates your excitement. “Don’t look at anyone but me, mommy, not them, just me, okay?” His hand grips your jaw tightly, his fingers applying enough pressure to force you to look him in the eyes, to submit to his voracious desire. His gaze, filled with possessive desire, pierces you, and you let out a small moan as you nod your head, but the non-verbal response doesn’t seem to please him. He wanted a real answer; he wanted to hear your pretty voice, so he pulled his hand away from your jaw before slapping your cheek.

The pain is immediate, a sharp burn that you feel intensely, a pain that mingles with the excitement already within you. His rings sink into your cheek, leaving a painful imprint that brings tears to your eyes. The tears begin to flow, mixed with your confusion and suffering, as you softly sob, the pulsing pain of your cheek and your lower lip, now split, letting blood flow, a red stream that betrays your submission.

“Shh… don’t cry, mommy.” Jake says, his voice soft and tender in contrast to his previous actions, cradling your cheek between his hands. But his eyes tell a different story, a story of domination and insatiable desire, a story where your pain becomes his pleasure. “I’m not angry with you, okay?” He wipes your tears away with a twisted, almost sadistic smile, as his gaze revels in your tear-soaked face and your injured lip, bleeding. He seems to savor your suffering, like a fine wine, and he could literally die a happy man in this moment.

You sniffle, gently shaking your head, but upon seeing his gaze darken even more, you freeze in place, fear mingling with desire paralyzing you. “I know, Jake, I’m sorry,” you manage to say through your tears, staring at him with misty eyes, but you can still catch a glimpse of his small, satisfied smile as he leans toward you, his lips brushing against yours for a delicate kiss, yet charged with a mixture of sweetness and mischief. This kiss, both tender and dominant, was a promise of what was to come.

“I’m the one who’s sorry, mommy,” he murmurs against your lips, the taste of your blood on his tongue, a mixture of pleasure and pain that intoxicates him. He does nothing to pull away, his lips engulfing your lower lip that he sucks and nibbles on with eagerness, savoring every drop of your blood like a precious delicacy. A rough groan escapes his mouth, and he realizes he could easily lose all sense of reason at the mere taste of your blood, so sweet yet so electrifying at the same time. He could never get enough of you, of your pain and pleasure intertwined, and this thought only made him hungrier.

He eventually pulls away, breathing heavily, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. “Let me make it up to you properly,” he says, kneeling before you, his hands beginning to wander over your tender thighs, sliding up along your soft skin, making you shiver with anticipation. The adrenaline pulses in your veins, and you know you could fall if you weren’t leaning against the car, but every second spent with him makes you desire more, sinking you deeper into this obscene and irresistible abyss.

Jake no longer just caresses your skin with his fingers; every movement becomes measured torture, a promise of what is to come. He lets his nails dig into your flesh, tracing red lines that burn, as his hand slowly rises along your thigh. He doesn’t just want to reach you physically; he wants to imprint himself in your mind, marking you in an indelible way. His fingers are cold, but it’s this icy bite that makes you moan in pain and frustration. Every caress is like a soft, progressive knife cut, meant to make you feel vulnerable, exposed to his unconfessed desires.

His mouth is merely an extension of this cruelty. His lips crash against your tender skin, and this warm wetness brings no comfort. On the contrary, each kiss is a warning, as if he’s testing your limits, savoring every reaction. He doesn’t just want to possess you; he wants you to remember every place he has left his mark, through pain and humiliation. His lips are neither sweet nor sensual. They are there to devour, to take, with no regard for your pleasure or consent. The way he sucks on your flesh, slurping loudly, reminds you that you are nothing more than a toy in his hands.

The men surrounding you are no longer mere spectators but silent participants in this degrading scene. Their guttural groans fill the heavy air of the parking lot, mingling with the wet sounds of their hands sliding over their erect cocks, glistening with pre-cum. They watch you with disgusting greed, their eyes glued to your body, waiting for you to fully submit to Jake’s brutality. Every movement he makes, every moan you let escape only feeds their sick desires. They reduce you to a mere object of fantasy, torn between the pain and the excitement you don’t want to admit.

Then, everything shifts. Jake plunges his fingers deep into your flesh, his nails tearing at you like claws. His hand moves to the inside of your thigh, pressing with relentless force, spreading your legs without mercy. He no longer seeks to excite you; he forces you, imposing his will relentlessly. “Look at me, Y/n,” he growls in a hoarse voice, like an order that leaves no room for disobedience. He forces you to meet his gaze, and in his eyes burns a wild fire, an almost inhuman desire that makes you shiver with terror.

He bites then, but this time he doesn’t stop at the surface. His teeth sink deep into your flesh, until you feel your skin tear under the unbearable pressure. Pain explodes in your body, a brutal shock that steals your breath. You scream, a piercing cry that resonates in the suffocating atmosphere, but that’s what Jake was waiting for. He drinks with animalistic greed, consuming the blood flowing from the gaping wound, his lips soaking in the warm, viscous liquid that slides down your thigh. His growls become increasingly bestial, like a predator savoring every drop of his prey’s blood.

The scene becomes even more grotesque. Jake no longer just bites you; he literally devours you, his face smeared with red, his lips and teeth covered in your blood. He bites again, his teeth sinking into another part of your thigh, this time with such violence that you feel the flesh tear. Blood gushes, flowing in a continuous stream, soaking his mouth, his chin, and the ground beneath you. Jake seems to go mad, intoxicated by the taste of your blood, his guttural growls resonating in the parking lot as his lips greedily suck on your flesh.

Around you, the men gasp, their hands moving frantically over their swollen members, the obscene sound of flesh hitting flesh filling the air. Their groans of pleasure grow louder, almost desperate, as they surrender completely to the perversion of this bloody scene. Every moan, every rough breath reinforces the macabre atmosphere surrounding you, and you feel yourself sinking into an abyss where pain and excitement become one.

Jake pushes your thigh even further, spreading your legs with such violence that your muscles scream under the strain. “I’m going to mark you, break you, until your entire body bears my imprint,” he whispers against your skin, his words spitting a promise of total domination. His teeth sink into your flesh again, biting even deeper, and this time you can almost feel your muscles giving under the pressure. The flow of blood pouring from the wound is more abundant, the warm liquid escaping from your bruised skin to spill onto the ground.

Jake lifts his head, his face dripping with red, and looks at you with a sadistic smile. “Do you feel that, Y/n? You like it.” His words are venom, a truth you refuse to admit. But your body trembles, overwhelmed by a wave of contradictory sensations — pain, humiliation, and that obscene pleasure that makes you shiver against your will. You are at your breaking point, broken under his relentless control, and yet something inside you doesn’t want to flee this grip.

He licks his lips, savoring the taste of your blood, that hot, metallic nectar that consumes him. His eyes shine with a wild glimmer, a predator relishing its prey. He leans in closer to you, his teeth scraping against your battered flesh, a cold shiver of pleasure coursing down your spine as he brushes against you. Each bite, each contact of his skin against yours makes you tremble with excitement and pain. Then he bites one last time, deeply, violently, leaving an indelible mark on your skin, a cruel reminder of that day when he reduced you to nothing more than a body offered to his brutality.

“Don’t stop, Jake…” you murmur in a trembling voice, eager to feel every part of his domination over you.

Jake kisses your bloodied thigh, leaving a crimson trail that slowly slides down your soft skin to your intimacy. The metallic smell of blood mingles with that of your flesh, an intoxicating fragrance for him. He inhales deeply, savoring the mix that makes you shiver against the car, your muscles taut with frenzied anticipation. His eyes, obsessed with your pussy, shine with a wild light, a predatory grin stretching across his lips as he approaches, his breath quickening as he loses himself in the ecstasy of your suffering.

His face, stained with your blood, leans even closer, brushing against your delicate skin with his warm lips, provoking a shiver that runs through your entire body. “You are so delicious,” he murmurs, his rough voice tinged with desire, as he kisses your thigh with feigned tenderness before diving lower.

“Jake…” your voice trembles with excitement, but he only responds with a guttural growl, eager to make you experience the ecstasy he has in mind. He slowly lets his tongue slide out, tracing a final path along your thigh, his saliva mingling with your blood in a display of violated innocence. His movements are both tender and brutal, a macabre dance between sweetness and cruelty. He eagerly buries his face between your thighs, forcing you to spread your legs to allow him access to your femininity, his hungry mouth seeking to claim your essence.

“Take me, Jake… make me feel everything you are…” you plead, desire consuming every part of your being. Your voice is a whisper, a supplication both submissive and ardent, a call to debauchery.

He gently licks your pleasure button, teasing it with devilish patience, each movement of his tongue provoking waves of sensations that are both delightful and painful. Uncontrollable sighs escape your lips, mingled with moans of pain. Every movement of his tongue is calculated, a delicious blend of delight and suffering. He toys with your pain, lightly biting your pleasure button before sucking it entirely into his mouth, as if he needs your warmth to survive, a rabid animal devouring its prey.

“More… I want more, Jake…” you cry, your voice filled with despair and desire, a wild scream resonating in the parking lot. The pain is unbearable, but it is also a sweet melody that lulls your mind.

Your moans turn into cries, excitement mingling with the throbbing pain that courses through your body. He releases your pleasure button with a wet, lascivious sound, then widely parts the lips of your sex with his fingers, his nails making each movement more painful yet deliciously pleasurable. His tongue laps relentlessly, savoring every drop of your desire, each stroke fueling his own hunger. You feel that he could come in his pants at any moment, so consumed is he by the obsession of your pleasure.

“I am yours, Jake… take me completely…” you murmur, your voice broken by pleasure, and a part of you knows there’s no turning back.

His eyes shine with a wild gleam as he rubs your pleasure button with his thumb, sinking even deeper with his tongue, exploring every corner of your intimacy. He moves with the precision of an expert, discovering every sensitive area, pulling louder moans of pleasure from you. Your fingers grip his tousled hair, pushing him deeper inside you, your flesh demanding his tongue. The intensity of the sensation makes you lose track of your thoughts, and you let yourself be swept away by the whirlwind of pleasure engulfing you.

In one corner of the parking lot, the atmosphere becomes even heavier, saturated with forbidden desires and unacknowledged fantasies. The teachers and students, caught in a dance of vice and desire, abandon themselves without restraint to carnal pleasures. Some teachers, defying all ethics, slip their hands under the clothes of other colleagues or students, grazing feverish and lustful skin. Their hoarse whispers get lost in the air, words of unacknowledged desire exchanged through panting sighs. Every forbidden touch becomes a silent oath of perverse complicity, a pact sealed by desire.

Further away, students find themselves together, clutching at each other as if they were going to devour one another. Bodies intertwine in a chaos of feverish caresses and stolen kisses. A boy with tousled hair leans against a car, pulling a girl against him with a brutality that borders on indecency, their heavy breaths mingling with the distant sound of engines. Others give in to multiple partners, bodies intertwining in a lewd ballet. Groups form and dissolve, jealousy and excitement igniting every embrace.

The teachers themselves are not left out. One of them, his eyes shining with a twisted desire, slams another instructor against the wall of the building, their mouths fiercely seeking each other. Further away, a female teacher slips her hand under a student’s shirt, her movements skillful and assured, making him shiver under her control. They exchange knowing glances, defying any notion of limits. The roles of authority fade away, leaving only primal instincts.

The onlookers in the shadows, both students and teachers, get swept up in this spiral of debauchery. Some slowly caress themselves, their gazes fixed on you and Jake, their hands moving across their own skin, eager witnesses to what unfolds before them. Others lose themselves in their own embraces, consumed by an insatiable need to submit to this suffocating atmosphere. A whisper of excitement spreads through the group when a student, unable to contain his pleasure, lets out an overly loud sigh, briefly drawing the attention of those hesitant to engage in the surrounding obscenity.

But none of this matters to you. You are completely absorbed by Jake and the brutality with which he takes you. His movements are fierce and relentless, as if he wants to break you while pulling you into a dizzying fall toward forbidden pleasure, an abyss where pain and ecstasy blend.

“Look how much she loves it…” a man throws out, a sadistic grin forming on his face, laughing at how you give yourself up to Jake’s onslaughts, relishing your surrender. His laughter is a sinister echo that resonates in the air charged with desire and tension, amplifying the adrenaline pulsing through your veins.

Jake intensifies his efforts, his licks becoming increasingly erratic, almost frantic, as he plunges deeper inside you. Each caress is a promise of pleasure, each stroke of his tongue a threat of losing control, a brutal reminder that you are at his mercy. The moans escaping your mouth blend with the pain, and you feel your sanity wavering under the pressure. Your head falls back, the muscles in your body tightening under his grasp, and you know you are entirely submissive to his darkest desires.

“Don’t stop, Jake… I’m begging you!” you cry out, your body contracting under his touches, thirsty for his brutality. You feel the adrenaline rise, a mix of anxiety and excitement.

He penetrates you with his tongue with such violence that you begin to lose track of time and space. His fingers delve deep inside you, filling you completely, an intrusion so profound that you feel ready to burst. He lets out a growl of satisfaction, his face feasting on your pleasure as you begin to tremble, every fiber of your being vibrating under his caresses, his mouth savoring your bliss.

The people around you are now just a mere backdrop, their sighs and moans merging with yours, a chorus of desire and debauchery. Pain becomes an integral part of your pleasure, and you start to understand the power dynamic at play. Jake is a predator, and you are his prey. Every movement of his tongue is laden with an implicit threat, a reminder that you have no escape. He ravages you with a consuming obsession, and you realize you are trapped in this dangerous game, lost between pleasure and pain, between life and death.

“Isn’t this what you want?” he murmurs with a predatory smile, his eyes scanning your face contorted with ecstasy, as if he savors every drop of your suffering.

The intensity reaches its peak, and you feel a wave of heat engulf you, making you completely lose your mind. It’s a mix of pleasure and pain, an experience so overwhelming it feels almost unreal. In one final surge, you let out a piercing scream, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave, as Jake continues to devour you, insatiable, like a starving man. His tongue, his breath, everything about him consumes you in an infernal blaze.

“Yes, Jake! I’m yours!” you cry, your voice filled with a mixture of adoration and submission, a promise of your total surrender.

“Yeah, damn it! You’re mine, mommy,” he growls, his gaze burning with desire as he rises from between your trembling legs. He places a kiss full of promises on your lips, leaving you breathless, your eyes glazed with excitement and shivers. “Only mine, and I’m going to prove it by fucking you so well you’ll forget your own name.” His powerful hands grip your hips, and with controlled force, he pushes you back, opening the car door with a swift motion.

“Lie down on the seats, mommy,” he commands, his hoarse voice resonating like a soft threat. You don’t hesitate; you slide inside, lying on your back, your legs spread, offering your body in this confined space. Your liquid drips, a shiny and warm trail mixing with the leather of the seat, staining it with your desire.

“I want you to squirt everywhere when you come, mommy, to leave your fucking scent,” he murmurs, his voice a blend of unspoken desires and brutal dominance. His eyes gleam with a wild light as he lowers his pants and underwear, revealing a member already hard, ready to claim you.

He approaches you with calculated slowness, his muscular body leaning over yours, every muscle tense, his hot breath brushing against your skin. The tension between you is palpable, almost electric, and you feel every beat of your heart resonate in your chest as he positions himself above you, making you fully aware of his power over you.

Jake firmly grips your hips, his possessive hold immobilizing you as he pulls you toward him with brutal, almost animalistic strength. With a quick, merciless thrust, he penetrates you, his brutal movement eliciting a cry from your lips, a mix of pain and pleasure. The shock reverberates through your entire being, a wave of intense heat that makes every fiber of your body vibrate. You feel the flesh of your thigh pulse with pain, blood slowly trickling down, tracing red lines on your skin, marking your submission in that moment.

He impatiently caresses the fabric of your top, his gaze gleaming with wild desire. With a sudden motion, he tears the material, exposing your breasts, and a guttural growl escapes his throat, like an animal in heat. His hands attack your breasts, squeezing them with such force that it feels like he wants to deform them under his grip. You experience a delicious pain, each movement making you vibrate with pleasure while carving the marks of his possession into your flesh.

“Damn, you’ll look so beautiful covered in your blood,” he murmurs in a hoarse voice, his breathing quickening as if every word is a promise of what’s to come. He continues to mark your flesh, his hands roaming over your body, leaving traces of his fingers wherever he goes, as if he wants to announce to the whole world that he will always have you, no matter the cost.

He slides his hand between your thighs, gathering your blood and dragging it across your skin, making it flow, as if he wants to imprint you with his essence. His fingers caress the lower part of your belly, then move up towards your breasts, where he leaves hot red marks, pressing with an insistence that borders on obsession. Each pressure on your flesh feels like a whip, and every moan you let escape is proof of your submission.

When he violently slaps your breasts, a cry of surprise and pleasure escapes your lips, and you realize how enchanted you are by this pain. He loves to see your reactions; he adores watching your eyes widen, that glimmer of defiance slowly transforming into submission. His movements become increasingly chaotic, frantic, like an animal wanting to mark its territory. He caresses your jaw, his gaze locked on yours, then shoves his ringed fingers into your mouth, forcing you to clean them, to swallow every drop of blood that remains.

The cold of the metal against your tongue contrasts with the warmth of your own blood, and you start to succumb to this mix of pain and pleasure, drooling around his fingers while moaning, your eyes rolling back. The world around you disappears, and all that matters is him, his body against yours, his brutal, almost wild movements igniting an insatiable need within you.

As he intensifies his movements, he begins to abuse you even more violently, each thrust making you cry out in pleasure. His body plunges into you, and he feels your sex pulling him in, as if your body craves even more of him. His fingers dig deeper into your mouth, making you choke as your eyes roll back. The sensation is both terrifying and exhilarating, and he loves it; he wants to see you lose all control.

When he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, he slaps you hard across the cheek, an act of domination that only exacerbates your already burning desire. This shock makes you quiver with desire, and you tighten around him even more, demanding more, as if your body were on fire. His fingers, soaked with your blood and saliva, glide over your jaw, slowly descending toward your neck, where he applies a skillfully calculated pressure.

Jake continues to penetrate you with increasing frenzy, his thrusts quick and brutal. Each impact makes you feel like you’re about to explode under the wave of pleasure and pain flooding you, immersing you in a whirlwind of sensations. His grip on your neck becomes tighter, and he lets out hoarse moans of pleasure, reveling in your total submission.

“Damn it, mommy, you drive me crazy,” he growls, his hoarse voice rumbling like thunder. As he lifts your legs and presses them against your stomach, his body draws closer to yours, every muscle taut like a string ready to snap under pressure. His member, hard as steel, brutally plunges into you, each thrust causing an electric shock that sends shivers through your entire body. The sounds of your union—sharp moans, gasping breaths, and the wet sound of your intimacy colliding—echo like a bestial symphony, filling the car’s interior with suffocating heat.

He gives you no respite; every movement is a whip, a mark of his possession. His thrusts are violent, brutal, as if he wants to break down every barrier separating you from him. You moan in pleasure and pain, a desperate melody escaping your lips as he firmly grips the back of your thighs, his nails digging into your delicate skin, leaving red marks, reminders of his conquest. Each thrust is a reminder that you belong to him, that you are his toy, his prey.

His pre-cum escapes, a mix of desire and need, sliding along his member as he fills you with each thrust. He hits your G-spot with devilish precision, making you lose all sense of time and space. Your eyes roll back, drool spilling from your slightly parted lips, a testament to the ecstasy overwhelming you, as if your reason were evaporating under the weight of his insatiable desire.

“More, Jake, please, don’t stop,” you plead, your voice a desperate cry between moans, each syllable trembling with need. He desires to merge your bodies to the point where you become his extension, an integral part of himself, and he will let nothing and no one stand in the way of this fusion.

A guttural growl escapes his throat, a wild and primal sound that vibrates in the air around you. He penetrates you even deeper, your warmth enveloping him as he seeks to possess you completely. You feel the heat building in your lower belly, each thrust making you lose your footing. When you climax, it feels like the entire world is collapsing around you. A piercing cry escapes your mouth, resonating in the car as your body contracts, your femininity squeezing around him with such force that he gasps, reveling in your ecstasy, feeding off your loss of control. Waves of pleasure wash over you, leaving you breathless, as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, overstimulating you with delicious brutality.

“Jake… it’s too much, I can’t… take anymore,” you cry, tears of pleasure and pain mingling their salty taste on your cheeks. But he doesn’t slow down; on the contrary, he abruptly pulls out of you, breathless, before putting you on all fours on the car seats. You are vulnerable, exposed, a perfect target for his insatiable desire.

He grips your hair, pulling your head back with a brutality that makes you moan. His words resonate in your mind like a challenge. “If you can do it, I’m sure you want more,” he says, his hoarse voice tinted with defiance. His thrusts become faster and harder, each impact making you tremble with pleasure and pain, as if each hit were a promise of total domination.

He increases the tempo, his raw power taking you mercilessly, as if he were trying to reach a depth that only a wild animal could know. His hot breath caresses your neck as he intensifies his movements, penetrating you with such force that you feel your body deforming under his strength. Each thrust is a whip, an electric shock resonating through your being, sending you into a trance where pain becomes pleasure.

His free hand wraps around your neck, cutting off your breath, and you feel panic mingled with ecstasy invade your being. Oxygen begins to run low, and each breath becomes a struggle between life and desire. He loosens his grip slightly, allowing you to catch your breath just enough to scream his name again, before plunging you back under his hold, each strike more brutal than the last.

“You are mine,” he growls between strikes, his voice laced with possessiveness. Each word is a declaration, a vow of primal devotion, and you can only submit to this wave of emotions. The combination of pain and pleasure takes you to a state of complete vulnerability, and you realize you crave this domination, this sweet violence that consumes you. You are his toy, his prey, and you let yourself be swept away in this chaotic dance, lost in the fury of his blows.

Your body becomes a canvas where he paints marks of desire, each strike, each tug of hair a new color added to this dark and obscene artwork. You are his, entirely, and you wish for nothing more than to lose yourself again and again in this obscene madness. Each gesture is a promise of raw pleasure, and you are ready to endure anything to feel this power upon you, at the point where ecstasy and pain intertwine in a sensual and cruel dance.

As he intensifies his movements, his strikes become more and more beastly, each impact making you moan and scream with pleasure, until you reach new heights of bliss. The car itself trembles under the violence of your passions, as if it wants to submit to your consuming fervor. In this savage union, you are his, body and soul, and you wish for nothing more than to plunge deeper into this obscenity, this delicious violence that envelops you, consumes you, and redefines you.

Jake leans over your body, his burning lips leaving hungry kisses on your skin. He starts at your back, exploring every curve, every hollow, as if he seeks to mark his territory. Each kiss is wet and eager, his lips gliding over your flesh, making you shiver with pleasure. As he moves up to your neck, he inhales deeply your scent, a blend of warmth and desire, his hot breath mingling with your damp skin. Drops of his sweat fall on you, creating a delicious sensation of warmth that envelops you, and you can’t suppress a hoarse moan escaping your lips, a silent cry of need.

He thrusts into you with sweet violence, each rhythmic movement both brutal and exquisite, a perfect blend of pain and pleasure. You feel his hard member penetrate you deeply, and each thrust is a declaration of his possession. He sucks on your neck with animalistic intensity, biting your skin to leave marks, traces of his domination. He wants you to feel his presence within you, to be etched into your flesh, and you are more than ready to yield to him.

In one final thrust, he releases all his desire, and you violently squirt on him, your body contracting around him like a crashing wave. The heat of his semen fills you, a perfect fusion of passion, flooding your insides and overflowing, wetting everything around you. The sound of your bodies crashing together resonates in the car’s cabin, each impact making you lose track of your thoughts. He doesn’t stop there, continuing his assault with fierce determination, driving his warm seed deeper inside you, growling like a rutting animal, relishing every moment he possesses you.

Your saliva slowly trickles down, a testament to your state of ecstasy. You are breathless, each breath a struggle between pleasure and the need for more. Each thrust from Jake becomes more violent, more brutal, as if he is trying to devour you, to make you his prey. His hands grip your hips, his fingers sinking into your flesh, and you feel the pain mingling with ecstasy, pushing you to a new peak of pleasure. You are his, entirely, and you let yourself go to this bestial madness, to this dance of desire and possession.

When he finally pulls out, his seed mixed with yours flows out of you, a warm, sticky liquid gliding down your thigh, proof of his hold. You know you belong to him, that you are entirely his. This blend of fluids testifies to the depth of your union, a wild union that leaves marks on your body and in your mind. In this moment, you are lost in an ocean of desire, passion, and submission, ready to be devoured again and again.

Jake skillfully maneuvers you, positioning you sitting on him, his hard and pulsing member pressing against your intimacy with an almost painful pressure. Each pulse of his desire against your delicate skin awakens a whirlwind of sensations within you that are both disturbing and exhilarating. Fatigue begins to weigh you down, but the burning excitement in your belly keeps you awake as his powerful arms wrap around you, holding you against him with an almost possessive strength. His caresses, initially soft and gentle, slowly slide down your back, but you can feel the intensity of his desire growing, with each second making his intentions clearer.

“Now, baby, I’m going to fuck your ass,” he murmurs in a rough voice filled with promises, leaning towards you, his burning lips grazing your skin. His hot breath travels over you, igniting every inch of your body. He captures your lips in a passionate kiss, a wild embrace, mixing your saliva in a messy dance, as if each drop is a promise of what is to come.

His hands explore your body with frantic determination, sliding slowly towards your sex. His skillful fingers gather the blend of your fluids, making you shiver under his touch, each stroke heightening the sensitivity of your intimacy. You feel desire rising within you, a crashing wave threatening to overwhelm you. He approaches his fingers to your ass, spreading this burning mixture over your skin, leaving you breathless as he continues to kiss you with a devouring fervor.

You cling desperately to his shoulders, your nails digging into his muscular flesh, seeking support against the intensity of this moment. He slowly thrusts his fingers inside you, each calculated movement making you moan against his mouth. The sensation is both delicious and painful as he stretches you with bestial precision, making you lose all control. His eyes shine with a wild gleam, devouring every expression on your face as he bites your lower lip with deceptive gentleness, his mouth slightly opening to let out a guttural growl, a promise of what is to follow.

You grip his hair, taking control of the kiss, tilting his head to deepen this burning connection. Your tongue plunges deep into his mouth, battling with his, a chaotic dance of unfulfilled desires. You feel his response, a rough moan resonating in his throat, a vibration echoing your own desire. His free hand ventures over your body, caressing your curves, while the other continues to torture you with slow yet penetrating movements, pushing even deeper into your depths.

He pulls on your wet hair, wrapping it around his fist, the pain mixed with pleasure making you lose track of time a little more. With his other hand, he keeps you prisoner, holding you tight against him, and you realize you are at his mercy. Each thrust of his fingers inside you makes you lose your sense of time, and your breath becomes erratic, every moan you let out being an offering to his insatiable desire.

But suddenly, he pulls back slightly, and a shiver of anticipation and anxiety runs through you as he bites your lip harshly. The anxiety mingles with a burning desire, making you cry out softly, as if his violence only intensifies the need that consumes you. Every pulse of his member against your skin reminds you just how dependent you are on him.

“Jake, I just want to sleep,” you murmur, slightly tired, your eyes half-closed as he continues to play with your ass, a carnivorous smile spreading across his lips. His fingers glide over your skin, plunging back in with calculated brutality, as if he were trying to make you lose all control.

“Mommy, you can sleep if you want.” His voice resonates with cruel amusement, a slight chuckle cutting through the tense air. He pulls his fingers from your ass, lifting you effortlessly, as if you were nothing more than a rag doll. You feel vulnerable, your heart racing as he positions your ass over his member, already dripping with pre-cum, ready to claim you as his prey.

“As long as I can fuck this pretty little ass, you can do whatever you want.” His words, spoken in a possessive tone, echo in your head like a promise of pain and pleasure, and a wave of dark excitement washes over you.

The next moment, he begins to penetrate you. His member slowly sinks into your tight hole, a mix of pain and pleasure awakening within you like a sacred fire. The pain is sharp, like an electric shock, a moan of suffering escaping your lips. You can feel every inch he pushes inside you, stretching your flesh beyond its limits, a struggle between despair and an unacknowledged pleasure. Tears begin to fall down your cheeks, mingling your distress with tragic beauty. You are both desperate and captive in this intense moment, trapped in his game.

“It hurts,” you moan, your voice trembling, seeking refuge in his muscular arms. You bury your head in his neck, the tears soaking his t-shirt, hoping your suffering might soften him. But he is not there to be gentle. One hand rests on your back, the other firmly holding your body against his, continuing his intrusion with calculated slowness, every movement heavy, as if he savors your pain, each second stretching your torment.

“It’s nothing, mommy,” he murmurs in a hoarse voice, sweet yet mocking at the same time. His hand slips to caress your hair, a contradictory gesture in light of the brutality of his actions. “Just relax, and it’ll be fine.” His words, though laden with promises, do not mask the anxiety rising within you. A part of you knows he feeds on your despair, that he relishes your pain like a predator before its prey.

You try to relax, but the pain is excruciating, a burning wave coursing through your body. Every inch he inserts seems to stretch your flesh beyond its limits. Anxiety overwhelms you as he intends to claim every part of your body, and with one last brutal thrust, he finally buries himself completely inside you. A scream of pain escapes your lips, resonating in the tense air, your body reacting fiercely to this intrusion.

As he begins to move inside you, he realizes you are gripping him too tightly. “Baby, relax even more, or you’ll end up hurting,” he says, his deep voice echoing like a whisper in the hollow of your neck. He caresses your back, his fingers sliding down your spine, trying to soothe your pain, but it’s not enough to extinguish the flames consuming your body. The mix of pleasure and pain is intoxicating, a macabre dance you are forced to participate in. Every thrust, every movement of his hips inside you becomes an act of brutal possession, further submitting you to his desire.

When he feels you starting to give in, he moves slowly, each thrust of his hips inside you seeming to tear and reshape you in his image. His rhythm is measured, a cruel slowness that forces you to adjust to this unpleasant sensation, a mix of pleasure and pain that makes every nerve in your body vibrate. He whispers encouragements, his voice intensifying as he runs his fingers through your hair, caressing your skin with a deceptive tenderness that contrasts with the brutality of his actions.

But when he sees you starting to moan in pleasure, your body adapting to him, he abruptly speeds up, taking total control. Your hips move against his, an instinctive and desperate motion, as if your body already knows the way to pleasure, even as your head is filled with contradictions. Every thrust becomes deeper, more primal, a mix of despair and wild desire that seems to tear you apart from the inside. He plunges into you with such force that you can feel your flesh yielding under his grip.

He pushes you to the edge, to the brink of pleasure and pain, and you feel completely devoured by this intense experience. The sounds in the car are drowned out by the noise of your bodies colliding, each movement resonating like a declaration of possession. You are his, and he has no intention of letting you go. Excitement builds within you, and you feel your body reacting uncontrollably, every moan escaping your lips being an involuntary response to his delicious assault. He makes you lose all rationality, his presence being both a scourge and a delight, and you are caught between pain and a frantic pleasure that consumes you.

With every thrust, he seems to transform you, extracting you from your own existence to plunge you into a world where only pain and pleasure have their place. You are at the mercy of his brutal desires, and each thrust becomes an indelible mark on your body and in your mind. The light fades around you, leaving only the darkness of this primal connection. You feel yourself sinking into a spiral of madness, unable to break free.

In this whirlwind of contradictory emotions, you no longer know where your suffering begins and where your pleasure ends. Everything becomes blurred, and you are ready to do anything for him, even if it means losing a part of yourself in this chaos. The tension rises, leaving you breathless, your thoughts blending with the moans of your body. He possesses you completely, and this possession is all you know. You have become his toy, a thing to be manipulated at his whim. Reality fades away, leaving only this desperate need to please him, even at the cost of your own suffering.

Jake holds you firmly, his powerful hands gripping your waist as he intensifies his movements inside you. Each thrust is a thunderclap, making your whole body vibrate and provoking moans of pleasure that escape your lips. The car, this confined cocoon, becomes the silent witness to your debauchery, each vibration, each sigh mixing in the warm, charged air of desire.

You bend over him, your head tilted back, seeking support on his strong shoulders. Your nails dig into his flesh, leaving marks as you surrender to the ecstasy he provides. The tension between you is palpable, a fusion of unquenchable desire and animalistic need. With every thrust, he plunges deeper inside you, his virility tearing you apart, and you feel yourself slipping slowly, ready to be overwhelmed by this wave of raw pleasure.

He suddenly flips you over, facing the dashboard, pressing you against the cold surface. His movements become a beastly dance, a frantic rhythm as he dives back inside your ass, making you scream with pleasure and pain. Each thrust is a delicious mix of sensations, and you grab onto anything within reach — the smooth leather of the seats, the handles, the dashboard — as if your life depended on it. The smell of alcantara and his musky perfume envelops you, creating a suffocating atmosphere where desire and thrills intertwine.

The blows grow stronger, each impact making you lose more control. With every thrust, he goes deeper inside you, and your cries of pleasure mingle with his growls of satisfaction. “You’re so perfect for me, mommy,” he whispers, his voice husky, filled with primal need. His lips slide along the curve of your back, leaving burning kisses that mark his passage, a reminder of his possession.

He nibbles on your skin with desperate fervor, a gesture that is both tender and terrifically possessive, before diving his head into your neck. You can hear his moans blend with yours, creating a symphony of desire. His teeth graze your flesh, leaving marks of his raw passion. “I’m going to make you feel everything I have inside me,” he growls, intensifying his movements with wild fury.

He pulls your hair violently back, forcing your head toward him. When he sees your tongue hanging out, a muffled cry escapes your lips, and he can’t help but smile, his gaze glistening with desire. “Look at me,” he commands, his deep voice authoritative. You dive your eyes into his, lost in that predatory gaze, and you know he is completely consumed by need.

He presses his lips against yours with beastly force, his tongue probing your mouth, dancing with voracity. The movements of his hips become increasingly desperate, as if he seeks to merge into you, to erase any separation between your bodies. The intensity of his thrusts makes you vibrate, each impact resonating in the confined space, creating a melody of pleasure and debauchery.

In a burning breath, he plunges his tongue into your throat, exploring it with an insatiable eagerness that leaves you gasping. “Let go,” he whispers in your ear, his voice heavy with obscene promises. “I want you to feel every second of this.” His words are like a fire consuming everything in its path, and you feel ready to explode, desire rising within you like an unstoppable tide.

The orgasm approaches, an unbearable pressure building inside you, a tsunami of pleasure threatening to overwhelm everything. Each thrust is a hammer blow on the anvil of your desire, and you feel your body tense, ready to release this wave of ecstasy. He intensifies his movements, your cries of pleasure echoing with each thrust, and you know you can no longer hold back. “Let go,” he repeats, his raspy voice filled with desire.

Pleasure overwhelms you as you give in, a primal scream escaping your mouth as the orgasm hits you. The heat explodes inside you, a blinding light erasing everything in its wake. You feel yourself melt under his grip, his thrusts becoming even more frantic, filling you with sensations so intense you feel like you’re losing your footing.

“Yes, that’s it,” he growls, his gaze locked on you, his determination strengthening as he plunges even deeper inside you. The sounds of flesh meeting flesh mingle with your panting breaths, producing a symphony of raw pleasure. Each thrust becomes a cry of possession, an act of reclamation, and you know in every fiber of your being that you are completely his.

In one final surge of passion, he pulls you even closer, driving deeper into this sea of sensations. His movements reach a frenzy, each thrust making you moan with pleasure, and you feel ready to collapse. The ecstasy is at its peak, and you lose yourself in this wild fusion, the boundaries between you two disappearing, leaving only enveloping warmth and unrestrained satisfaction.

In this intense moment, you realize you have become one, two bodies united in a whirlwind of animal desire, a blend of pleasure and pain, submission and domination. And as you allow this wave of ecstasy to engulf you, you know that this moment will mark you forever, an indelible imprint of raw passion and consuming desire.

“I’m going to fill you up,” he growls, his hoarse voice whispering promises in the warm, desire-laden air. With one final powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside you, making you scream with pleasure as a flood of sensations washes over you. His warm cum bursts inside you, each drop marking you as a symbol of his possession. He doesn’t slow his rhythm, continuing to penetrate you, each movement a brutal reminder of his dominance over your body.

“Now, you belong to me body and soul,” he continues, his warm breath caressing your skin. His words are charged with bestial intensity, as if he is ready to claim every part of you. He then dives to kiss you deeply, his tongue probing your mouth with savage voracity, blending passion and control. His kisses are a mix of sweetness and brutality, a dance between possession and insatiable desire.

As you feel the orgasm overwhelm him, his thrusts become more frantic, almost desperate, as if he seeks to ensure every part of you is marked by him. Each thrust is an act of reclamation, every moan escaping your lips an echo of shared pleasure. You feel completely lost in this wave of ecstasy, your body responding to every movement, every contact.

He takes your face in his hands, his eyes locked onto yours, capturing your gaze. “I want you completely,” he murmurs, his voice filled with desire. “Not a piece of you will ever belong to anyone else.” His words seep into your mind, making you understand the depth of his obsession.

His mouth trails down your neck, his teeth nibbling gently at your skin, leaving red marks that testify to his possession. He straightens up, taking you again, lifting you and pressing you against the dashboard, each movement intensifying the connection between you. In this moment, you are his, entirely, and you know that no force in the world could ever separate you.

The heat of his body against yours, the weight of his palpable desire, and the promise of his possession heighten the tension. You are caught in a whirlwind of passion and unfulfilled desires, and you know this is just the beginning. The outside world fades away, leaving only the two of you, merging in a sensual dance of animal desire.

He holds you close, his movements becoming wilder, each thrust a brutal reminder of his dominance. You are his prey, and he has no intention of letting you go. Ecstasy mingles with delicious pain, each impact awakening sensations within you that you’ve never known. You know you are at the mercy of his desires, and you completely surrender to him, a cry of pleasure escaping your lips as you feel overwhelmed by this tide of sensations.

As pleasure reaches its peak, everything around you illuminates, a mix of raw pleasure and animal passion. You know this moment will mark you forever, an unbreakable bond between you, a union of bodies and souls, sealed in the warmth of the moment.

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waynes-multiverse · 2 days ago

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Polaris – Chapter 8

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, serial killer, Diane is her own warning, Grey's Anatomy & alcoholism, uhm... hard to explain the last one without spoilering. You'll be fine 😂

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: Oh boy, I'll save you guys long explanations. Life got in the way, so let's just all be glad we're back here 😅 Some of you brilliant sleuths already caught breadcrumbs of my scheming in the last part, so here's The One You've Been Waiting For...

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 8: Chemical Bonds

“Where is she?”

Your boot soles thudded on the floor as you dashed inside the station, your questioning look aimed at Jenny, who leaned against her desk with crossed arms and a stern brow. Beau was hot on your heels, just jogging in behind you. You practically raced him from the car across the parking lot.

“She’s in Interrogation Room 3,” Jenny informed you.

“Is she cuffed?” Beau asked, his voice carrying a hint of anger caused by concern. He had a whole car ride to the department to rile himself up and let his head spin with reasons. None of them soothing; all of them terrifying.

Jenny shook her head. “No. She’s not officially under arrest and hasn’t confessed yet, either. ‘Sides, she willingly came in and just all too happily sat down. She’s clearly playing a game. I’d be careful.”

“Alright, thanks,” Beau said and looked at you. “How you wanna do this?”

“Let’s just go in and talk to her. See what she has to say and what angle she’s playing,” you suggested, and Beau agreed with a nod, both of you falling into step as you headed down the hallway.

“My favorite couple. There you are,” Diane greeted you with a smirk that could only be described as lunacy as soon as you and Beau walked into the interrogation room. “Hope I didn’t disturb your evening.”

“Not at all,” you replied with an easy smile and took a seat across from her, Beau settling down right next to you and leaning back in his chair. “What can we do for you, Diane?”

“Well, I figured I come here before you call in the cavalry. There’s no need for all this drama. I have a feeling you two have enough of that,” she quipped and grinned devilishly at the both of you.

“So, you waltzed in here to confess to twenty-four murders?” Beau arched a disbelieving eyebrow at her.

“Oh, nice try. But I won’t confess to anything until you two have told me a little more about yourself,” Diane announced cheekily. “You talk – I talk. My rules. My game. Let's be honest. You don't have anything to nail me down. Zero, really. You two need this. I'm giving you a win, Sheriff.”

Beau and you shared a look. Neither of you liked this, but you supposed you had to play along if it led to a confession. You nodded at Diane. “Fine, what d’you wanna know?”

Diane grinned in triumphant satisfaction and folded her arms on the metal table, curiously leaning forward. “Look, I think it’s cute you two found each other… after divorce and death, of course. ‘Cause who likes a cheater, right?” she posed theoretically, her smirk getting wider. “I guess, for me at least, it’s just hard to believe there’ve never been any feelings before that. Seems kinda odd to me.”

You smiled wryly. “Well, for me at least, it seems kinda odd and, frankly, hard to believe some psychotic bitch would murder over twenty innocent people just because her husband was a cheating dirtbag. Yet, here we are.”

“Here we are indeed, Agent,” Diane snarked with a pleased smile. “And I’d be wary throwing the word ‘innocent’ around so carelessly. After all, just look at you two. I mean, I’m not saying you’ve planned this little hot love affair, but c'mon! What, no lingering looks? No fluttering hearts, dirty thoughts, or wistful what-ifs?”

You remained cool and held your gaze stern. No quiver of a lip, no twitch of an eye, no flinch of a muscle betrayed you. But Beau must’ve signaled something when Diane’s eyes drifted to him. She tilted her head with a delighted sneer forming on her face. Your heart halted in your chest. You knew she’d locked in on a target like a lioness on the prowl.

“Whoop, Sheriff Arlen, do you have something to tell me? You seem awfully quiet and… shifty,” Diane prodded the tip of her metaphorical knife into his ribcage, prying it open just enough to see inside. “If her husband was your partner, you must feel at least a little guilty for fucking his wife as soon as he was six-feet-under. Did you have feelings for her when they were still married? You did, didn’t you? I wonder what he’d say if he were still alive.”

“Okay, enough,” you snapped and drew a line in the sand, noticing how Beau withdrew more and more upon her words. She was getting to him and enjoying it. “Neither of us has done anything wrong, got it?”

Diane chuckled amusedly. “Sheriff Arlen, you should learn from your girlfriend here. She’s better at acting than you are. Or is it lying?” Her questioning gaze turned to you.

“What d’you want, huh?” you prompted with stern annoyance, hoping to take some heat off of Beau. “You want some weird confession, so you can throw one of us into a bunker?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Agent. We’re just having a friendly chat among colleagues, getting to know each other.” She grinned, her icy gray eyes sparkling with devilish joy. She leaned closer to Beau, circling in on him. She could smell he was close to a breaking point and aimed her sledgehammer at him. “Tell me, Sheriff, were you happy when your partner died? I mean, you must’ve been. She was finally free and all yours for the taking. Is that why your marriage crumbled so soon after his death? Why you followed her all the way to Mexico, leaving your family behind? Be honest, did you lead her husband into that warehouse on purpose?”

“Shut up!” Beau yelled and bristled, his voice trembling with anger as did every single muscle of his. He jumped up from his seat and kicked the chair roughly against the wall before storming out and slamming the door loudly behind him.

Shocked, you rose from your seat as well and threw Jenny a worried look through the one-way mirror. As you followed Beau outside, you could still hear Diane’s heinous laugh.

November 2020

‘¿Recuerdas que en tu infancia creías en cuentos de hadas? En la fantasia de lo que podría ser tu vida. Tu vestido blanco, un príncipe azul que te llevaría en sus brazos a un castillo sobre una colina…’

A knock on your door rattled you and snapped your attention away from the small, old TV in your room. The image was grainy at best, and you were sure the television itself was bought sometime in the early 2000s. Yet, you still managed to hook it up to your laptop and stream a few shows. Drinking and watching television was all you had for entertainment down here whenever you were on the lay-low and had some time off.

Oh, and there was the crying, of course.

You hurriedly blew your nose in one of the tissues in your hand and wiped the tears out of your eyes. Bolting into the bathroom first, you did a quick check of your appearance in the stained, wonky mirror. Well, good enough. Who were you trying to impress? You were a grieving widow. People expected you to look like shit.

Beau blinked at you as the door opened. He offered you a friendly smile, although he could tell you had cried again. You never admitted it, always telling him you were fine and brushing away any and all of his concerns. But your red and puffy eyes were hard to hide and even harder to ignore when he stopped by your room at night. It broke his heart every single time.

“Hey, I know you haven’t eaten dinner yet, darlin’,” he said and tried not to sound too scolding. Since Randy’s death you’d been basically on a grief diet, although you seemed to be more willing to eat since you’d come to Mexico. But Beau had taken it upon himself to ensure your stomach was always full.

“Uh, thanks, but I’m not hungry,” you said quietly and were already keen to close the door to get rid of him again. Sometimes it worked. Most times it didn’t.

Beau frowned and already slid his boot between the door and its jamb. “You know I’m not leaving till you ate. And since you’re being particularly difficult tonight, I’m just gonna have to watch you till that whole bag is empty. Now, trust me. This ain’t fun for me, either. Don’t make me spoon-feed you and do airplane noises. It’s been a while, but I have experience in that field. You wanna hear my lecture about your essential vitamins and minerals again?”

You sighed dramatically and were close to a whine. “Beau, I’m really not in the mood right now. Can you please just–” You stopped when you noticed the man wasn’t even listening to you. With a curiously furrowed brow, he cocked his head and leaned inside your room with a skillful weight shift, his green eyes focusing on the TV.

‘Vamos a domir a tu casa esta noche.’

‘¿Qué?’

‘¿Por qué siempre dormirmos en mi casa? ¿O no tienes una?’

“What are you watching?” Beau had fully stepped inside your room, and you knew your probability of kicking him out again sunk by the second. You sighed once more and closed the door behind you two.

“Grey’s Anatomy in Spanish. I already know the episodes, so I figured I could learn a little. I already forgot most of it from school,” you replied.

“Huh. Never watched this show.” Yet, he sat down on the foot of your bed and seemed hooked. His eyes were glued to the screen, brow lightly creased above the bridge of his nose that showed his interest. If you had popcorn, you would’ve handed it to him.

You rolled your eyes a little but smiled nonetheless. Randy had been the same. He’d teased you for watching till he caught one episode and was immediately enthralled. Afterward, you weren’t allowed to watch a single episode without him anymore.

“You wanna watch with me?” You grabbed the bag of food and crawled onto your bed, leaning against the headboard. You quickly discarded the tissues that were strewn all over your mattress. Luckily, he hadn’t noticed them yet, or you would’ve received a look full of worry and pity.

“Sure.” Beau nodded and smiled at you over his shoulder, happy you had decided to eat, after all. “So, what’s this show about?”

“A hospital in Seattle. But honestly, everyone’s just sleeping with everyone…”

It took a while till you had explained all the intricacies of each relationship to him. Fortunately, this was only the first season. He gasped when you informed him the show had seventeen of it – so far. By the end of the episode, he had joined you by the headboard, sitting next to you as you shared the remaining tacos.

‘Me gusta el helado de café, whisky de malta de una sola destilería, de vez en cuando un buen habano.’

“Ah! Now that’s a home,” Beau declared with a broad and longing smile, raising his beer bottle to the TV. “You know, I’ve always wanted an Airstream trailer exactly like this.”

“Uh-huh. Un remolque.”

His brow quirked. “Is that Spanish for trailer?”

“Yes, he just said it. You need to pay attention,” you chided playfully and took a sip from your beer.

“Hey, look, I’m just glad I can keep up with who’s sleeping with who, alright? Don’t need to add Spanish vocabulary to the mix,” Beau quipped, making you giggle. “I actually almost bought a trailer like that when me and Carla first got married.”

You grinned knowingly. “Lemme guess, Carla said no and almost shot you?”

Beau snorted a laugh. “Ha! Yeah, she definitely came close that time. But Emily was already on the way, so I guess it would’ve been impractical with a baby.”

“Smart choice.”

As your eyes traveled back to the TV, Beau’s gaze landed on you. He watched as your cheeks moved when you laughed with your whole heart. How your pink, full lips sealed around the bottle opening whenever you sipped on your beer. How your shimmering hair fell into your face in waves as you leaned forward and hugged your knees. Lingering looks.

“You wanna open a bottle of tequila with me and watch another episode?” you asked with a mischievous glint in your eyes as you looked back at him over your shoulder.

“Hm? Oh, uh, yeah. Let’s do that,” he agreed, swallowing lightly. A part of him almost felt caught in his shameless staring. But he was willing to do anything as long as it kept you from crying yourself to sleep for another night.

Jumping up from the bed, you sauntered over to the mini bar and bent down, hauling a bottle of tequila from the small fridge you’d stored in there earlier. Beau tried not to stare at the curve of your ass and how tightly those dark blue jeans hugged it. But he couldn’t control his heart as it undeniably accelerated and thumped loudly against its prison. Fluttering hearts.

Four episodes and two Margarita pitchers in, you stretched with a yawn, barely able to keep your eyes open. You glanced at Beau with an amused smile as he was still transfixed by the TV and heavily engaged in the show.

“I’m beat. You mind if we turn in?” you checked and laughed a little when his green eyes blinked at you in surprise.

“Oh, uh, sure. I’ll head back to my room,” he said, nodding. “You, uh, wanna do this every night, maybe? I mean, it’s not like there’s much else to do here… We could hang out and binge-watch, as the kids say. Netflix and chill.”

You snorted. “Beau, that’s not what you think it means…”

His brow furrowed. “Well, what does it mean?”

“Sex,” you said bluntly and watched his mouth open and close. It was rare to render that man speechless.

Beau pursed his lips, his cheeks redder than the desert sand. “Yeah, uh, no Netflix and chill, then.” He cleared his throat a couple of times while you stifled your laughs. “Can I just finish this episode before I go?”

You giggled, getting up from the bed. “Sure. Knock yourself out. I need some bathroom time before, anyways.”

As you sauntered into the small, dingy bathroom, you briefly glanced back and saw Beau’s focus was already back on the sexy doctors. You laughed a little, shaking your head before you began to wash your face and slip into your pajamas, which were just a pair of sweat shorts and an old college shirt of Randy’s. Go Cougars!

Unbeknownst to you, Beau’s gaze didn’t remain on the TV for long. At first, he only caught a glimpse of you from his periphery in the bathroom mirror through the cracked door. For a moment, he stared, unable to tear his eyes away as you shed out of your shirt. But when your bra came off as well, he averted his eyes shamefully back to the TV. His mind, however, still wandered, incapable of shaking the image of you, various unholy ideas gathering for a villainous summit. Dirty thoughts.

‘Así que, elígeme a mí. Escógeme a mí. Ámame a mí…’

“Still hooked, huh?” Amused, you arched a brow at him as you strolled out of the bathroom and saw he was still enchanted by the magic of dramatic television.

“He’s gonna go back to the cheatin’ ex, isn’t he?” Beau asked without looking at you. He sat on the bed with arms crossed and his brow scrunched.

You pressed your lips together as you smothered another laugh. “Oh, no spoilers from me, but it’s a bit of a ride. And we haven’t even gotten to Dr. Caliente yet,” you said, grinning.

You waited a moment for Beau to catch the hint that you wanted to go to bed. But soon you realized it wasn’t going to happen. The man had done a full deep dive into that show, and there was no way of pulling him back out.

“You know, you can stay and keep watching if you want to. I don’t mind. I’ve been sleeping with the TV on, anyways,” you said.

His gaze met yours, brow finally rising with realization. “Oh, uh, sorry. No, I can go. Let you catch some–” His eyes wandered back to the TV before he shook his head and tried to refocus. He blushed. “Sorry.”

“It’s really okay. You can stay. I don’t care,” you assured him with a soft smile and climbed under the covers, resting your head on the pillow. You switched off the lamp by your bedside table, the blue glow of the screen remaining the only source of light.

“Maybe just this episode,” he mumbled, his shoulders deflating as he sunk back into a more comfortable position again.

“This is nice,” you noted with a blissful sigh and closed your eyes. “I kinda hate being alone.”

Beau watched you as you peacefully fell asleep, the TV suddenly forgotten. For once you didn’t cry yourself to sleep. Tears, nightmares, and loneliness gone. And he wondered – what it would be like if he watched you fall asleep every night. What if he was still there in the morning. What if he could hold you as you wore his shirt. Then, the guilt came swiftly like the rising tide and washed those thoughts away. Wistful what-ifs.

“What the hell happened in there?” you hissed as quietly as possible as you caught up with Beau in the lowly lit hallway of the station. Luckily, the other cops had enough sense to stay away and keep their distance while the two of you hashed things out.

Beau dragged a hand over his face, kept his palm clasped on his mouth as he paced in a circle. You were surprised he hadn’t punched a wall yet, judging by the tension in his shoulders.

“You can’t let her get to you,” you reminded him gently, your face softening when you noticed how distraught and upset he really was. What Diane said to him must’ve cut deep.

“You know it’s not true, right? What she said in there? I-I didn’t kill him. I wasn’t… Fuck!” His eyes were brimming with desperate tears, his breathing quick. You could hear his heart race from feet away.

“Of course not. She’s a deranged psychopath,” you emphasized, although you didn’t understand why you had to spell it out for him. He already knew that. “Why are you so upset? Don’t let her get under your skin. She’s thriving off it like a hyena.”

“I know. I just-…” He took a deep breath. “What if she’s right?”

Confused, your brow furrowed. “About what?”

“Me. Us,” he said, not making necessarily more sense. “What if it’s true, huh?” He blinked at you and swallowed harshly, completely out of breath. “Look, uhm… I-I don’t know how to say this. I’ve never admitted it before, but recently, things have become a lot clearer to me…” He paused for a moment, rubbing his mouth with two fingers before he found your eyes again. “I’ve always had feelings for you, you know? There’s always been this… pull. Even back then. Since the first time I met you.”

You inhaled sharply, your lungs incapable of fitting more air as you held your breath for several heartbeats. “Beau, it’s okay.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know if it is,” he said. The tortured tone of his voice pained you. “I mean, I would’ve never done anything. You need to know that, okay? I would’ve never hurt you or Randy. I never would’ve come between you two.”

“I know that,” you assured him. You wanted to take his hands in yours, touch him, hold him. But you knew it would only make the turmoil of emotions worse instead of better, like pouring oil into the fire.

“But sometimes, just for a blink of an eye, I caught myself wondering, you know? What it would be like to be with you… Hell, I wondered all the damn time. Even on your freaking wedding day,” he confessed. “That’s the kind of horrible person I am. And now, that I am with you and so fucking happy, I feel guilty every time that things worked out the way they did. ‘Cause it does feel like I’m happy that I’m with you, and he’s not.”

You let out a heavy sigh through your nose and finally took his hands in yours, intertwining your fingers as you squeezed them. “I know all of that,” you said, his brow rising in bewildered surprise. “In terms of being honest… I guess a part of me always knew you felt this way, but I never let myself go there. And yeah, considering everything, it’s only natural to feel guilty. But you’ve still done nothing wrong. We’ve done nothing wrong. You can’t control how you feel. Neither can I. And I’m not saying everything always was exactly right, and we did everything by the book, but I loved Randy with all my heart. There wasn’t room for anyone else… And now, I love you. But it was never at the same time, you know?”

Beau pulled you into his arms and held you tightly, kissing your crown. “No, I know. Trust me. I know that part.”

“I love you, okay?” You tiptoed to claim his lips, putting your whole heart into the kiss. You didn’t want to hurt him, but you wouldn’t lie, either. “Diane doesn’t get to use that against us. Everything that happened, everything we’ve done right or wrong – that’s between you and me… and maybe God at some point. But surely not that psychotic bitch in there. She’s doesn’t know what we think or feel, so don’t give her ammunition, alright?”

Beau nodded and pecked your lips, his hands caressing your cheeks. “I love you, too.”

Jenny cleared her throat as she carefully snuck up on you. “You guys okay?”

You gave her a soft smile. “Yeah. What d’you got?”

“Well, since Diane walked in and became our prime suspect, the new DA on the case signed a search warrant for her property, office, car, and all her devices,” Jenny informed you.

“Alright, take Pops with you and head to her house first. Call me if you find somethin’ we can burn that witch with,” Beau ordered, putting his sheriff hat back on, jumping into the saddle full-throttle.

“On it, boss.” Jenny gave him a resolute nod and hurried down the hall.

January 2021

“¡Feliz navidad!”

As you opened the motel room door, you found Beau on your doorstep with a giant grin on his freckled face and not one but two bottles of tequila. One in each hand that he joyfully wiggled in the air.

You chuckled, shaking your head at him. “Christmas was two weeks ago, payaso.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t here, so merry belated Christmas,” he retorted and strolled right in as you held the door open for him. “Can’t believe you stayed here and didn’t go home for Christmas.”

“Meh, wasn’t in the mood to be placated and pitied by my whole family. I know they all mean well, but if I get one more concerned head tilt and a ‘How are you holding up, sweetie?’, tendré que apuñalar a alguien,” you huffed.

Beau narrowed his eyes at you, slightly amused. “I only understood the word ‘stab’, but I think I get the gist,” he joked, laughing. “I see your Spanish is getting better. So, how was your depressing and lonely Christmas without your family?”

“Nice guilt trip, asshole,” you retorted playfully and scoffed. “Great, actually. I went out with the guys from our team who stayed here, too. Got insanely drunk on some Christmas cocktail Ignacio created. And some hot guy taught me how to Salsa dance. He got a little handsy towards the end, which, granted, is the most action I’ve seen in five months, so…”

Beau’s lips thinned as he weighted your words. “Huh, so to recap: you got wasted with five guys in a dingy bar and second base with some stranger. Sounds like Christmas-y fun.”

You frowned slightly, watching him open one of the bottles of tequila. “Alright, there were no bases being hit, Judge Judy. How was your Christmas?”

“Not as fun, I can tell you that much,” Beau muttered and gulped some tequila straight from the bottle.

Your nose scrunched, lips pursed. “You and Carla got into it again?”

“Oh yeah, big time,” he replied. “I’ve only been home twice, including Christmas. You’d think she’d be more happy to see me, but instead I get yelled at for not being home more and criticized like I’m some drunk.”

Your narrowed look drifted to the bottle of liquor tightly clasped in his hands as he plopped down on the bed with a sigh. “Well, you know, not really making an argument for yourself there, gaucho.”

He scowled at you. “Who’s side are you on?”

“No one’s!”

“What, you think I’m some alcoholic?”

You pursed your lips and hesitated briefly. “No… But I do think you have a slight issue with... occurrence and... volume.”

He sent you a small glare. “That’s the same thing, just different words.”

“Look, I get it. It’s not like I’ve been a healthy example these past months,” you said, hoping a softer approach would work. You sat down next to him on the bed. “It’s been hard for all of us. Grief wrecks you. But you have a family to think about. Maybe it’s time you go home… for good.”

His brow drew into creases, green eyes drilling a hole into you. “Do you want me to go?”

Your lips parted for a moment, reluctant to answer as his question hung in the air between you two. “It’s not about what I want. You should do what’s best for you.”

Beau considered your words, his head bobbing. “I wanna stay. I need to see this through. For Randy,” he declared, although it was only partially true. Another part of him stayed for you. There was an electrostatic force, invisible to the naked heart and irresistible to the free mind. A force that kept him in your orbit and bonded his atoms with yours.

Maybe you should’ve told him to go home, been more insistent on making him leave, clearer on what was best. But truthfully and selfishly so, you liked having him around. He was your constant, your little piece of home in a strange land and an even stranger new life. And you didn’t want to navigate this new life alone.

“You sure?” you still asked for the sake of your conscience, but the determination on his face over his decision made your heart sing in relief.

“I’m sure. Just wish things were easier…”

Walking back into the interrogation room, you smiled victoriously as you slapped a folder full of evidence on the metal table in front of Diane. The deputies had found “a buttload” in Poppernak’s words.

Regardless, you knew Diane wasn’t stupid. If the deputies found something, she had wanted you to find it. For some reason, she wanted to be arrested. But you didn’t care what sick game she was playing. Cuffing her meant there’d be no more bodies, no more victims.

She gave you a titillated sneer, glimpsing at the file in front of her before finding your eyes again. She bit her lip, smirking. “Oooh, lookey, what you found there,” she mocked.

“It’s over, Diane. You’re under arrest for multiple murders among a plethora of other charges. But you already know that,” you told her firmly.

Beau’s features were stone-cold. He was pissed, radiating that fire burning inside of him for miles. He made the Yellowstone supervolcano look harmless. “Stand up and turn around. Hands behind your back.”

Diane did as told without any protest. She grinned at you the whole time when Beau manhandled her roughly into her handcuffs, bending her over the metal table as he read her the Miranda rights. You couldn’t shake the eerie feeling in your stomach, though. You had your killer, but somehow this felt far from over. You knew she had an ace up her sleeve and was waiting to lay it on the table.

“But we were just getting started,” she snarled. “Aren’t we having fun?”

“Fun usually looks a little different for me,” Beau retorted and forced her back onto the chair as soon as she was cuffed.

“I bet it does, Sheriff,” she purred with a flirtatious glimmer in her gray eyes. “I think I’ll wait with my confession till tomorrow. Let you two lovebirds enjoy your last night together.”

Beau and you shared a wary look at that. But deep in your heart, you knew there was nothing that could tear you apart. And you hoped Beau knew it, too.

“Look, bitch, I don’t care what you think you’ve planned, but it won’t drive a wedge between us. All it’s gonna do is piss us off more, got it?” you threatened and leaned forward on the table with an angrily knit brow.

Diane chuckled. “Confident. I always liked you, Agent. Aren’t you even a little curious what I’ve got in store for you?”

“No,” you replied without hesitation. You looked up at Beau and rose from your seat. “Let’s go. She’s not gonna talk tonight.”

Beau nodded, putting his hand on the small of your back, leading you outside the door. And just as your hand reached the handle, Diane decided to play her ace of hearts.

“It’s about your husband,” she noted innocently. You could hear the satisfaction in her voice as your whole body stiffened, muscles freezing. Beau felt it, too. His heart began to race. “Dead husband, of course. I always forget that part. Silly me.”

Beau’s hand on your back gave you a soft caress, telling you it was okay to turn around and find out. You didn’t want to care. And most of all, you didn’t want Beau to see that you did. But as you met his forest-green eyes, they were full of understanding.

“What about him?” you asked bravely, your chin held high as you faced her.

Her grin widened before her gaze wandered to Beau. “It’s in my pocket. Mind giving me a hand, Sheriff? You can even touch. I know you have a hard time keeping those hands to yourself,” she taunted.

You scoffed exasperatedly, rolling your eyes. “I’ll do it.”

“Oh, c’mon, Agent. Let me have a little fun. I’m about to be felt up by enough women,” she quipped.

You ignored her, hauling her to her feet by her elbow and holding her in place as your other hand dived into her back pocket. Your brow furrowed as your fingers identified a small plastic stick. Your frown deepened as you pulled out a familiar thumb drive. It wasn’t the first one you had received from her.

Twenty-five.

Had she taken another victim before giving herself up? What was so special about this one? What did it have to do with Randy? Did he ever cheat on you? Did Beau know?

You found that quite unbelievable. In fact, you knew there was no chance in hell that was true. But that did nothing to ease your conscience.

Your hand trembled in sync with your palpitating heartbeats. You tried to steady it as best as you could and keep your jumpy nerves in line as you slipped the small drive into its designated outlet on your laptop, not wanting the team that had gathered around and behind you to catch on to your unnerving emotions.

As you clicked on the MP4 file, your heart came to a standstill when a video popped open in the player. Pressing Play, you sucked in a breath and then forgot to breathe at all.

It only took you a glimpse to die inside.

“Oh God…”

It felt like suffocating. Like jumping off a steep seaside cliff and drowning. Your body hit the ocean rocks; your heart split open.

It only took Beau a second longer to catch on. The horror in your voice had put him on immediate alert before he recognized the figure on the screen, too.

As your head spun and your stomach turned upside down, you couldn’t find any words and bolted outside. You needed fresh air. You needed to breathe. And you needed to goddamn puke.

“Beau, what’s going on? Who’s the guy on the video? You know him?” Jenny asked, her gaze worriedly flashing in the direction you had fled.

Beau swallowed the thick lump in his throat, forcing the name out that had haunted him all those past years. “It’s Randy.”

Chapter 9: Marooned – NOVEMBER 29

Dun, dun, dun... The dead have risen in Montana! This is where it becomes a Walking Dead crossover (at least if you ask Donno 😂). Did you call the little resurrection action beforehand? 👀 Lemme know all your wild thoughts in the comments! 💭

So happy to be back with y'all! 🤍

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