The word "More?" ghosts against Violet's lips, a question and a command in one. Her body answers before her mind can protest-her thighs tensing, her hips rolling back just an inch, seeking.
Begging.
A dark chuckle rumbles against her skin as they catch the movement, their fingers tightening in her hair. "Thought so." They withdraw completely, leaving her empty-just to watch her squirm. Violet gasps at the sudden absence, her cunt clenching around nothing, her mechanical hand scraping against the ruined desk.
Ink smears beneath her like spilled sin, darkening the wood grain. "Ask properly." Her breath hitches. Their palm lands sharp against her ass-once, twice-leaving stinging flares of heat in its wake. "Use that pretty voice, doll. Tell me what you want." Teeth sink into her lower lip. For a second, defiance flickers. Then they run a single fingertip along her dripping seam, and every coherent thought shatters.
"P-Please-"
"Please, what?" Their voice drops, rough and expectant. Her stomach tightens, humiliation like liquid fire in her veins. "Please... I need it-" A fist twists in her hair, yanking her head back. "Need what?"
"Your-fuck!-your cock-" Their grin is all teeth as they thrust back in, burying her gasping plea against the desk. "Good girl." They set a merciless rhythm. No more tease. No restraint. Just pure, unrelishing ruin.
Wood creaks beneath them as the desk slams into the wall with every thrust. Papers crumple. A clock on the shelf rattles dangerously, its pendulum swinging out of time. Somewhere in the building, footsteps pause-then hurriedly retreat. Violet no longer cares. She's lost in the brutal drag of them inside her, the slap of skin, the slick obscenity of her own need.
Tears streak down her cheeks, smearing ink and sweat. She hates this. She craves this. Their hand tangles in her hair again, wrenching her up until her back meets their chest. "Look at yourself," they hiss into her ear, forcing her gaze down-where her flesh trembles, where they disappear into her again and again. "See how ruined you are?" Her reflection in the darkened office window tells no lies: hair a tangled mess, lips red and swollen, body marked and used.
She comes from the sight alone. A scream catches in her throat, her vision fuzzing white as her cunt spasms around them. They don't stop.
"Again."
She does. The third orgasm breaks her. Sobs wrack her chest as they finally slow, pressing deep, letting her feel every shuddering pulse of them spilling into her. For the first time all night, silence.
Heavy.
Dangerous. Their thumb drags along her bottom lip, smearing blood from where she bit down too hard. "Still think you're untouchable, Evergarden?" The words sink like a blade because that was always her armor. Poise. Perfection.
Control.
Now, she's this. A trembling, overstimulated mess, leaking their release onto company hardwood. Shame burns until their grip gentles. Until they turn her chin toward them. Until Violet sees something unexpected flickers in their gaze. Not just hunger. Possession. The realization coils low in her stomach. "You're not done." Their lips brush her temple. "Not until you say I'm yours."
Her breath stops.
A test.
A surrender.
A truth.
She parts her lips-The office door suddenly slams open. Claudia Hodgins stands frozen on the threshold, his expression morphing from shock to something unreadable. Violet's stomach plummets. For one horrible second, no one moves. Then-"Out,"
her tormentor snaps, voice like cracking ice. Hodgins doesn't flinch. Instead, his gaze lands on Violet-checking. Assessing. She braces for disgust. For fury. Instead, his jaw tightens. "Clean yourself up." A pause. "Both of you."
The door clicks shut.
Silence.
Then-Laughter. Dark. Delighted. "Looks like I'll have to mark you even deeper next time." A thumb presses possessively over the bruise blooming on her hip. "Make sure there's no question who you belong to."
Violet exhales shakily.
[End]