Page 39 of We're Not Strangers Anymore

Turning to me, Grayson’s gaze darkens. “I’ve wanted you for too long and once we start, I won’t stop. Tell me now if you don’t want to do this and we’ll leave.”

“I don’t know, Grayson,” I manage, my voice wavering slightly. “I– I want this. I think. I don’t know.”

He nods. “Take off your clothes.”

My hands tremble as I fumble with the straps on my dress. I don’t want to show him how nervous I am but he sees right through me.

“Faster, Rowan. Don’t make me repeat myself.” He says, his voice dripping with pure darkness.

I strip my dress off along with my bra and panties. Standing naked in front of him, I feel exposed, the air sending goosebumps across my pale skin. I look down as he steps closer.

His hand comes up, cupping my chin and forcing me to look up at him. “You’re mine, Rowan. From this moment on, you belong to me, for good. Understand?”

I nod, unable to find my voice and he smirks as if he’s won. His hand trails down my body and he brushes his fingers between my legs. I gasp feeling a mix of fear and need pooling in my belly. I want him so badly, but I’m scared.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “You want this. You need it.”

He pushes me down onto the bed, his strength making it clear that resistance isn’t an option now. My breath hitches as he spreads my legs, positioning himself between them. The sound of his zipper echoes in the silent room, a reminder of what’s about to happen.

His gaze holds mine, filled with dark possession. “This is going to hurt but you’ll learn to love it. You’ll learn to loveme.”He leans into me, claiming my lips in a deep kiss that leaves little room for negotiation. His touch grows demanding as he grips my hips, grinding his hard length against me.

“Take a deep breath for me, baby.” He growls against my neck.

I inhale deeply and feel him enter me, his movement forceful, sending a sharp burning sensation between my legs. My eyeswater from the pain as he buries his cock all the way inside of me. Pain and pleasure mix and I cry out, my nails digging into his shoulders. He doesn’t give me a moment to adjust. He just takes what he wants, claiming me with each forceful movement.

“Breathe, Rowan.” He says, pulling out and pushing back inside me more gently this time.

I slow my breathing and my legs fall further apart for him.

Just when my body relaxes he starts thrusting harder again. “Say it,” he demands, his voice rough and breathless. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.” I gasp, the words falling from my lips before I can even think. “I’m yours, Grayson.”

A satisfied growl rolls off his lips as he moves faster, harder, driving me to the edge despite the pain between my legs.

“Am I bleeding?” I ask, my voice shaking.

“Yes, but you’re taking me so good, Rowan.” He dips his hand below, swiping his fingers through the blood between us and brings them to my lips, pushing them inside my mouth. “Taste what’s left of your innocence. Let it serve as a reminder of who you belong to.”

I shatter around him at his words and the feeling of fullness inside of me. I hate myself for loving the way he feels, for wanting more. His grip on me tightens as if he’s afraid I’lldisappear, and he falls apart on top of me, cupping my face with one hand as he comes.

The room is silent except for our ragged breaths, my body aches in places I didn’t know could hurt. I take a moment to think– to understand what I’m feeling. A mix of fear, anger, and something I don’t want to acknowledge swirls in my chest. Grayson shifts beside me and I flinch out of reaction, expecting more roughness. Instead his touch is gentle as he pulls the blanket over us and brushes a stray hair away from my face. I catch a glimpse of softness in his eyes, something that doesn’t match the ruthless man I’ve come to know.

“You did well,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “I know it hurt.”

I don’t know how to respond, my throat is too tight with unshed tears. He gets up from the bed, walking to the bathroom and returns with a dampened cloth. Pulling the blanket off of me, he cleans the blood from my legs. The warm cloth against my skin relaxes the nerves clawing at my chest, though my legs are still shaking from the shock to my body. It all feels too intimate, too personal.

“I can do it myself.” I say dryly, reaching for the cloth.

“Rowan,” he says gently, stopping my hand. “I take care of my things, let me take care of you.”

I don’t know if I feel offended by that or endeared. More the latter considering most men wouldn’t do this.

He continues to clean me up and then stops for a moment. “I can’t let you hate me any longer, Row.”

I sit up looking at him quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“There’s something I need to tell you. I should have told you a long time ago.”

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