Page 127 of Victorious: Part 3
He stills for a moment, cock buried to the hilt, chest heaving. “You really do, don’t you?”
I shift my gaze to his, with a warm, genuine smile. “Yeah, I fucking do.”
His nostrils flare, and he slams forward, kissing me, rough, desperate, and full of everything he can’t say. Then he pulls backjust enough to reach down and yank hard.
“What the hell?” I gasp as cool air hits my thighs.
He holds up the ripped lace garter that was clipped to my thigh, snapped in two like it was paper.
“You are not about to—”
“Oh, I am,” he growls. “Hands up, Little Lamb.”
I glare but obey, arms lifted above my head against the wall, and he uses the garter like a makeshift restraint, tying my wrists to the coat hook, the pressure rough and fast, his knot messy but more than effective.
“You’re a fucking psycho,” I hiss, squirming.
“I’m in love,” he counters, nipping at my collarbone as he thrusts again. “And I’m gonna fuck you so good, the next person who uses this bathroom’s gonna smell sin on the tiles.”
Pinned, restrained, and wrecked, I’m nothing but a trembling, filthy promise unraveling in his hands.
Alpha’s hips piston into me, brutal and relentless, every thrust a demand, every slam a punishment and a reward wrapped in one. The sound of our bodies crashing together is vulgar and wet, echoing off the bathroom tiles, and I crave it. My breath shudders out of me, too fast to catch, too broken to slow.
He’s rough, ragged, panting like a beast, and it feeds me. The strain in his forearms, the way his jaw clenches, the ripple of muscle down his back, I feel him unraveling, and it sends heat flooding through me, wild and fast.
“That’s it,” he growls against my ear, voice all gravel and fire. “Take it all. Let me give you everything.”
I do. I am. I’m taking him into every broken crack of me and letting him wreck it wider.
His rhythm stutters for a half beat, just enough to tell me he’s close, and then he goes harder. Deeper. The kind of thrust that shoves the breath right out of my lungs and makes my vision spark.
I feel him swelling inside me. The tension is climbing in his thighs. The strain of restraint shaking down his spine. He’s holding on by a thread, and it drives me insane.
“Oh fuck!” I gasp, my nails digging into my palms as his teeth sink into my neck. “Alpha—Jesus!”
He bites harder, then licks the sting. “Come on, baby. Snap for me.”
My climax rushes up like a massive truck with no brakes, blistering and unstoppable. My spine arches, heels digging into the small of his back before a scream breaks loose, sharp and high. My pussy clenches violently around him, pulsing, dragging him right over the edge with me.
He lets go with a feral roar, thrusting so deep it feels like he’s claiming my soul, his release spilling into me in hard, desperate spurts. His whole body seizes, arms shaking, breath gone, like he’s being ripped apart just to give me more.
And I feel it all. The twitch of his cock buried deep, the guttural sound he makes when he finally spills, the tremble in his thighs. It shatters me all over again, another wave of orgasm dragging me under until my limbs go useless, and all I can do is cling.
We collapse together, a wreckage of sweat, teeth marks, and bruised love.
My wrists are still loosely tied, but he untangles me gently, even as we’re both panting like we’ve just gone ten rounds in a cage fight.
His forehead presses to mine, hot and damp. One hand finds my hair, the other sliding under my thigh to hold me closer, deeper still, like he can’t stand the idea of being separate, not even for a second.
“I fucking love you,” he rasps, broken and real.
“I know,” I whisper back, mouth swollen, body ruined. “I fucking love you too.”
We stay like that, breathing each other in. Our chaos spent…
For now.
But our kind of love?
