Alina’s POV

My eyes widened, the air suddenly feeling too thin to breathe. "You... you want to fuck me?" I stuttered.

Lucian didn’t look away. His gaze was heavy, dark with a raw, predatory hunger that seemed to pin me against the leather seat. It wasn’t just desire; it was a visible ache. Every instinct I had screamed that letting this man touch me would be a point of no return.

"Get off me," I choked out, shoving against his chest. The heat radiating through his shirt was startling, like pressing my palms against a furnace. I scrambled out of the car, my heels hitting the pavement as I tried to put distance between us. "You can’t be fucking serious. You show up at my job and expect me to just... to just do this?"

He stepped out after me, silent and looming. He wasn’t even arguing; he was just watching me with that terrifying intensity. His scent—cedar, rain, and something dangerously masculine—wrapped around me even in the open air.

"There’s a brothel down the street, Lucian. Go find someone else."

I turned to walk away, but his hand bolted out, circling my wrist. I gasped. His skin was scorching, a feverish heat that sent a jolt of electricity straight to my core.

"My body craves only you," he rasped.

Before I could draw breath to retort, he yanked me back. I collided with his chest, my breasts crushing against the hard planes of his torso. We were so close I could feel the frantic thud of his heart—or was it mine?

"Please," he whispered, the word laced with a desperation so thick it was almost tactile. "Can I?"

I froze, caught in the pull of his lust-filled eyes. He leaned in, his lips brushing mine in a tentative, agonizingly slow ghost of a kiss. He tasted like mint and heat. When his tongue flicked against the seam of my mouth, I tried to resist, but the sheer need radiating off him broke me. I opened for him, and the kiss instantly turned feral.

It was hungry. Desperate. His hands slid down to my waist, his fingers bruising my hips as he hauled me flush against his hardening length. My own hands acted without permission, sliding up his back, my nails digging into the expensive fabric of his coat.

When he finally pulled back, a thin silver thread of saliva lingered between us in the moonlight. He stared at me like I was the only thing keeping him alive, a worshipful look that made a sudden, slick heat pool between my thighs.

"Can I please fuck you?" he groaned, his voice vibrating in my chest.

Logic had left the building. My head tipped back, and against my better judgment, I nodded.

A dark, triumphant smirk ghosted over his lips. In one fluid motion, he hooked his arms under my thighs and hoisted me up. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. He hauled open the back door of the car and settled me onto the seat, his movements urgent.

I watched, mesmerized and biting my lip, as he stripped. He didn’t just have a body; he had a masterpiece of corded muscle and golden skin. He caught me staring and that smirk returned, sharper this time. He climbed in over me, the car rocking under his weight, and buried his face in the crook of my neck.

His tongue surged against my pulse point, and a soft, broken moan escaped me. I clamped a hand over my mouth—we were outside, exposed. Someone could see. Someone could hear. "Lucian, I think..."

He didn’t let me finish. He crashed his lips onto mine, swallowing my protest with a kiss that tasted like a vow. He broke away just an inch, his breath hot against my face, his eyes blown wide and glassy.

"Pull my hair," he choked out, the command sounding more like a prayer.

"What?" I breathed, my senses spinning.

"Pull it," he begged, "Hard."

"Please... just do it," he gasped, his forehead resting against mine.

I reached up, my fingers tangling in the thick, dark strands at the nape of his neck, and yanked. Lucian let out a low, guttural growl that vibrated through my entire body. The friction of his groin against my thigh intensified; he was growing harder, thicker, reacting to the sharp sting of the pain like it was fuel.

"You are fucking beautiful," he rasped. A small, dizzy smile tugged at my lips. I wasn’t used to hearing that—especially not with such raw, worshipful conviction.

He didn’t give me time to process it. He hovered over me, his hands sliding under my top to lift me just enough to strip the fabric away. When my bra was gone, leaving my breasts bared to the cool night air, he didn’t hesitate. He took one peak into his mouth, sucking deeply, and a loud, broken moan tore from my throat.

"Fuckkk," I slurred, my head tossing back against the seat.

He didn’t stop, his tongue swirling and tugging while his free hand found my other nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. The sensation was a physical assault on my senses—a lightning strike of pleasure I’d never felt in my life.

"Tell me you want me to fuck you," he commanded, his voice dropping to a gravelly low as he toyed with me.

"Huh?" I breathed, my brain turning to mush.

"Say it. Command me, Alina," he urged, the desperation back in his tone, sharper than before.

"I want you... I want you to fuck me," I choked out.

A dark smirk pulled at his lips. He shifted, standing in the cramped space, and stripped my trousers away in one fluid motion. When he peeled off my soaked lace, he lingered, inhaling the scent before a grin broke across his face. Heat flared in my gut; the primal look in his eyes was devastating.

He kicked his own pants aside. When he stood fully bared, my breath hitched. He was massive—thick, veined, and pulsing. My heart hammered against my ribs, the rhythm erratic and panicked. What am I doing?

"Spit on my hand," he commanded, thrusting his palm toward my mouth.

I didn’t hesitate. I leaned forward and obeyed. He used the moisture to slick himself down, his gaze locked onto mine, unblinking.

"I’m going in," he warned.

I braced myself, my fingernails digging deep into the leather seats. The moment he pushed inside, my eyes flew wide. He filled me completely, a sudden, stretching heat that made my vision blur.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I chanted, the word the only thing I could form.

"You’re so fucking tight, Alina," he growled, his voice a low vibration. "You haven’t been touched in a long time, have you?"

My head was spinning, my body trying to adjust to the intrusion. "I’ll be gentle," he promised, though his smirk told a different story. He began to move, a deep, deliberate thrust that hit a spot so deep I saw stars.

"Oh my god," I gasped as he established a rhythm. "Fuck, this feels... it feels so good." I’d only done this once before, with Aiden, and it had been nothing like this. I’d spent years thinking sex was something to be endured, but this—this was a slow-motion explosion.

"Spread your legs a little more," he commanded, and I moved for him instantly. He began to pick up the pace, the car rocking rhythmically. "Curse at me, Alina."

"W-what?" I stuttered, lost in the friction.

"Call me names. Use the words you’ve been thinking. Fuck, call me every curse word you know!" He bit his lip, his muscles corded and straining as he hammered into me.

Something snapped in me—a release of all the anger and fear I’d been carrying. "You are a fucking piece of shit!" I yelled.

"Fuck, Alina," he groaned, his pace turning frantic, his thrusts harder and more punishing.

"You’re nothing but a scarred rogue that no one wants!" I cried out between ragged moans.

The insult seemed to drive him over the edge. He went even faster, his movements becoming a blur of heat and power.

"I fucking hate you!" I screamed, my nails raking red tracks down his back.

"Alina, fuck!" he roared, his voice breaking as he buried himself to the hilt. "You’re so fucking tight." He didn’t slow down; he drove into me harder, his rhythm desperate and heavy.

"Yes, fuck me, you piece of shit!" I yelled. Every thrust sent a wet smack echoing through the small space. The car rocked violently with our weight—anyone passing by would know exactly what was happening. "Fuck, I... I think I’m about to..."

The sensation hit like a tidal wave. He squeezed his eyes shut, jaw tight as he continued to hammer against me.

"Keep your eyes on me," I commanded.

His eyelids snapped open instantly.

"My eyes on you," he rasped. The intensity in his gaze was scorching, a mix of hunger and pure obsession. "Alina, I... I’m going to cum..."

He pulled back at the last second, his breath hitching as he finished against me. I slumped back, panting hard, my chest heaving. "Oh my god."

"Let me clean you up," he whispered. He reached for his discarded shirt and started to wipe the mess from my thighs.

"Stop! That’s gross." I shoved his hand away and scrambled out of the car. The night air was cool against my flushed skin. I yanked my trousers on, my movements jagged. When I looked back, he was watching me with a massive, triumphant grin.

"That was fucking hot," he said, looking like he’d just won the lottery.

"No one can ever find out about this," I snapped. The grin vanished.

"Why not? You’re my mate. You belong to me—"

"I don’t do the mate bond anymore," I cut him off, my voice cold.

"Your body says different." He stepped toward me, reaching out. "You’ll always want me."

I shoved him back. "Don’t ever show your face in front of me again."

I turned and walked away into the dark.

"I’m here to stay, Alina!" he called out behind me. "You’re mine and you always will be!"

I moved faster, eventually flagging down a cab. I sat in the back, smelling of sweat and him, my skin prickling with regret. When I finally made it home, I headed straight for the bathroom, desperate for a hot shower. But as soon as I stepped inside, my heart dropped. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

Aiden was standing there. He started to smile, but it died the second the scent of the encounter hit him. His nostrils flared, his entire body going rigid.

"You have to be fucking kidding me," he hissed.