Page 78 of Sins of the Hidden

But V was beyond hearing. Every muscle in his body trembled, not with restraint but with unleashed savagery. His inexperience manifested as primal hunger; any gentleness evaporated in the heat of his desire. Even through the pain, I knew he didn't know how to hold back. The column of his throat worked as he swallowed hard, his expression caught between rapture and shock. His fingers dug into my hips, anchoring me in place as he began to move.

My name ripped from his throat like a confession, the single word "Oakley" guttural and primal as he drove into me without warning. His calloused fingers seized my jaw, grip tight enough to bruise, forcing me to look at him as he staked his claim on my virgin flesh.

The tendons in his neck stood out like steel cables, his powerful body surging against mine with each thrust. This was V stripped of all pretense—the enforcer who dealt in violence now channeling that same raw power into my willing body. He moved like he couldn't get deep enough, like claiming me was the only way he knew how to breathe.

"V—wait—" The plea shattered in my throat as he bottomed out inside me, the thick head of his cock battering against my cervix.

He was beyond reason now. His body covered mine completely, caging me beneath him as he rutted into me with an animal ferocity that bordered on cruel. Each punishing thrust stretched me wider, the burning friction of his girth splitting me open. I felt the wet heat of my arousal and blood mingling as he conquered territory no man had touched before.

His breathing turned ragged.

Muscles coiled, quivering beneath my palms.

His eyes—usually so controlled—had gone wild, pupils blown wide with a hunger that seemed bottomless. The masktransformed him into something inhuman, a creature of pure instinct rather than a man.

Desperate to slow him, I raked my nails down his scarred back hard enough to draw blood. A mistake. He groaned deep in his throat, the sound more arousal than distress, his rhythm turning even more savage. His hips met mine in bruising collisions, cock driving deeper into my core with each thrust.

"It hurts," I choked out, tears spilling hot down my temples as his merciless thrusts forced the air from my lungs. "V, you're too?—"

His hand shot to my throat, fingers digging into the delicate flesh until spots danced at the edges of my vision. Shame twisted into want so fast I couldn't tell where one ended. I shouldn't have liked this. But I did. With his other hand, he yanked my hips higher, the new angle allowing him to penetrate impossibly deeper. Pinned, spread, and helpless, I felt a twisted surge of arousal at my complete surrender to his possession.

"Who. Do. You. Belong. To." Each word punctuated by a thrust that jolted my entire body, his cock stretching tissue never meant to accommodate such an invasion.

I met his stare with defiance burning through my tears. "Y-You!" I gasped as his grip tightened on my windpipe. The admission felt like salvation, my body yielding what my mind had already given.

His hand released my throat as he seized my waist, flipping me roughly onto my side, his strength manhandling me as easily as a doll. He hooked my leg over his shoulder, kneeling beside me, his weight balanced on one arm as he loomed over my splayed form. The position left me obscenely exposed. Each precise stroke hit that secret place deep inside with unerring accuracy, the ridge of his cockhead dragging against tender flesh. His eyes never left mine—dissecting my expressions,cataloging every gasp, every flinch, every involuntary shudder of pleasure mixing with pain.

A broken sound escaped as agony melted into unbearable pleasure. "I can't—" I gasped, my body spasming uncontrollably around his invasion. "It's too much," I whimpered, even as my hips betrayed me, grinding against him, seeking more of the brutal perfection he delivered with each thrust.

Within me, his cock swelled even thicker, stretching me to my absolute limit. His callused thumb found my clit, slippery with my arousal, and rubbed cruel circles against the oversensitive bundle of nerves. Every sensation sharpened to an unbearable edge—the fullness of him spearing me open, the pressure on my most sensitive spot, the marks his fingers were leaving everywhere he touched. I felt owned, consumed, ruined for anyone else.

"Fucking come for me," he snarled, voice barely recognizable, the command scraping across my nerve endings like sandpaper. His eyes bored into mine, refusing to let me hide or retreat.

"Now. I want to feel this tight little cunt squeeze every drop out of me."

The words ruptured low in my belly. I'd never been talked to like that—never wanted to be. Until now.

The command detonated something primal within me. My release hit like a tidal wave—not cresting gently but slamming violently through me. My body clenched around him, muscles seizing as ecstasy clawed through every nerve ending.

V's response was immediate and fierce. His body convulsed above mine, powerful thighs vibrating against my own as he drove deeper than I thought possible.

His cock swelled impossibly larger within me before the first hot jet of his release painted my innermost walls. Each pulseburned like a brand, liquid heat flooding me as he ground his hips in tight circles.

"Mine," he growled, the word barely human, rasped through clenched teeth. His hands moved to bracket my face, forcing me to maintain eye contact as the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through us both. "Every. Fucking. Inch." Each word punctuated by the residual twitching of his cock inside me, branding me from the inside out.

He lowered himself over me slowly, muscles trembling as he braced on his forearms, his sweat-slicked chest heaving against mine. His cock throbbed inside me, more gentle now but no less present. His head dropped to the crook of my neck, his exhale stuttered across my skin. Even in this moment of vulnerability, his body remained half-coiled, ready to protect or devour.

When he finally withdrew from me, he did so as if time were peeling itself open, his heated gaze transfixed by the sight of our joined bodies separating. I felt the warm evidence of his release between my thighs, the sensation both foreign and intensely intimate. His breathing grew heavier as he watched, pupils dilating at the sight. With careful touch, his hand moved through the slick heat before sliding through the wetness, pressing inside me again in a gesture of ownership.

"Keep it inside you," he murmured, his voice a rough velvet promise against my ear as his fingers curled knowingly within me.

The intensity of the moment gradually mellowed as our breathing slowed. He carefully gathered me in his arms and pulled the rumpled sheets over our cooling bodies. The harsh lines of his face softened in the dim light, the tension he always carried visibly easing. For the first time since I'd known him, V looked almost at peace.

We didn't speak for a while. There was something sacred in the silence, a fragile bubble surrounding us that neither wantedto break. His touch sketched lazy trails across my shoulder, each contact gentler than the last, as if he was learning a new language—one of tenderness rather than violence. I watched his chest rise and fall, the crude O scar moving with each breath.

He pulled me against him, arranging our bodies so we fit together like pieces of a puzzle. The possessiveness in his touch gradually softened as his breathing slowed. For several minutes, we lay in silence, the only sound was our synchronized breathing. Then, so quietly I almost missed it:

"Don't leave me." The words ghosted across my skin, barely audible, as if admitting such a desire might somehow fracture the air between us. His massive body curled around mine, caging me protectively as his lips brushed the nape of my neck. The heat of his breath against my skin felt more exposed than his cock had been inside me, more vulnerable than the physical claiming of my body.

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