Page 36 of My Bloody Valentine

I shed my clothes, my hands trembling with need. The mask stays on—it’s part of tonight’s ritual. Maya’s eyes follow my movements.

“I can’t wait any longer.” I position myself between her spread thighs, running my hands up her sides. “Do you know what you do to me? How you’ve invaded my thoughts?”

She bucks against me, her eyes flashing fire. “You’re insane, Adrian. You can’t just tie me up and fuck me because you feel like it! I’m not some doll you can play with!”

Her words slice like a thousand knives, each one a challenge to my control.

She wants to unleash the beast—the part of me that revels in her fear and terror. It stirs, urging me to push her further, to show her just how little control she has.

I slam my hands against the mattress, leaning close until my mask nearly touches her nose. Through gritted teeth, I snarl, “I can do whatever I want with you, Maya. You’re mine. My creation. My little critic, remember?”

Her eyes glitter with fury, but I sense her craving for me lurking beneath the surface. She wants to be claimed and surrender to me.

With a swift move, I unfasten her wrists, relishing the momentary panic that crosses her features. Before she can react, I flip her onto her stomach and press her face into the pillows.

Her hips arch as she tries to wriggle free, but I hold her firmly in place, my body a cage around hers. “You want to fight? Then let’s fight.”

I grab her wrists and pin them behind her back with one hand, her thrashing form pinned beneath me. I yank her hair back with my free hand, baring her neck. “Who’s in control now?”

“You...are,” she gasps.

“Louder,” I growl. “I want to hear you say it.”

“You are!”

My hands tighten on her wrists, and she whimpers. “Good. Now, say you’re mine.”

Her body goes still as she realizes what I’m demanding.

I nip at her neck, knowing the mark I’ll leave there will be hard to hide. “Say it. Surrender to me.”

I need to feel her now. The waiting, the tease—it’s torture. Despite her defiance, her body betrays her, softening beneath me.

Maya resists, but I’m relentless. I drive into her, claiming what is mine. She gasps into the pillows. “Say it.”

Silence.

I push deeper, filling her, owning her. Her moan vibrates against my chest. God, that sound...

My hips flex, withdrawing and then snapping forward. Her body tightens around me, a vise of silk. This time, her moan fills the room. It’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.

The rhythm takes over, animalistic and raw. My hands grip her hips, holding her in place as I thrust with insatiable urgency. She meets my force with her own, starting to thrust back with abandon. No more barriers. No more games, only unwavering surrender.

I pull out, her whimper of protest sending a stab of pleasure through me. Carefully, I reposition her on her back. We’re both breathing hard, our bodies slick with sweat. With a hand tangled in her hair, I tilt her head, forcing her to meet my gaze.

Her dazed eyes search mine through the holes in my mask, and at that moment, I feel something powerful shift between us.

“Look at me, Maya,” I demand, my voice harsh. “I want you to see who owns you.”

Her lips part, and she sucks in a sharp breath as I fill her again. Her eyes widen, and I know she sees the truth in mine. Her body yields to mine, and her surrender fuels my need to possess her completely.

Each stroke is a claiming—a branding of her body with mine. Her nails dig into my shoulders, leaving her marks, but I don’t care. The pain only adds to the intensity, sharpening the pleasure until it’s almost unbearable.

Maya arches against me, her breath coming in short gasps. “Please, Adrian. It’s too much.”

Her words are a plea, but not for mercy. She’s begging for more—for the pinnacle I’ve deliberately withheld.

“Let it break you,” I demand, my restraint shattering. “I’ll piece you back together in my image.”

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