Chapter 132
LEVI
Nothing—not the betrayals, not the past, not even the looming risk of being seen, photographed, exposed to the paparazzi and it possibly affecting my reputation and company, or the fury my father would unleash if a picture of this ever got out—nothing compared to what I felt for her now. I was being careless, reckless, but I didn’t give a damn anymore about anything else but her, us, and this night.
The burn inside me had devoured everything else. My pride. My defenses. My self-respect. All reduced to ash. Reason was gone. Logic had vanished. There was only need. Desire had taken the throne—and I was its slave.
My cock throbbed with aching desperation, rock-hard and leaking against her skin. My chest was tight, stretched too thin by the weight of wanting. It felt like I would shatter if I didn’t have her now. I didn’t just want her—I needed to bury myself inside her, claim her, mark her, until there was nothing left in the world but the sound of her moaning my name. My fears, my doubts, my father’s voice in my head—obliterated. Only her. Only this.
And God help me—I didn’t want this night to end.
I moved behind her again, pressing my cock against the curve of her ass, sliding back into that torturous, slow grind. The rhythm was the same as before, deliberate, cruel. A punishment. A tease. She moaned louder now—not the controlled moan of one scared of being caught but fully aware of every consequence of our actions and still begging for more.
Free. In need. Completely submissive.
It started as a whisper. A breath. A prayer. But it swelled—rising from her throat like it was torn from her soul. Wrecked. Beautiful. Perfect.
One hand snaked around her throat—not to choke, not yet—just to claim. To tell her, without words, *You are mine.* And deep down, I already knew: once she was mine, truly mine, married to me... I would never let her go. I wouldn’t know how to, even if I tried, hard as I may.
My other hand reached forward, pushing through twisted branches and thorny leaves. Bark scraped my knuckles. Thorns bit into my skin. I didn’t care. I didn’t even feel it. Pain meant nothing when my hand found her breast—hot, full, heavy. Her nipple was tight, aching, and when I pinched it—once, rough and deliberate—she arched against me, head tipping back, a scream ripping from her lips.
I did it again, harsher this time, claiming the other breast. She writhed. Ground herself against my cock like she needed it more than air. She was unraveling, breaking apart under my touch. And it made something animal stir in me.
Then I slapped the curve of her breast. A sharp smack. Just enough to sting. And she whimpered— “Oh please. Oh please.”
I looked down at her, met her eyes. Wide. Glossy. Pupils blown. She looked wrecked. Beautifully undone. “I need you now, Levi,” she whispered, breath hitching. “Or I’ll lose my mind.”
I smirked, lips grazing the shell of her ear. “Shh,” I said, voice low, taunting. “You’re not in a position to make demands, remember?”
I trailed my tongue along her neck, then sank my teeth into her skin—hard enough to mark, to bruise, to make her scream. And she did—loud, desperate, broken.
That scream tore through me like lightning. My cock jerked, painfully hard. I bit the inside of my cheek, grounding myself. Fighting the overwhelming need to come without even being inside her.
Then I reached again, grabbing her full breast in both hands. Kneading. Worshipping. Watching her fall apart all over again.
I couldn’t hold back anymore. I’d punished myself long enough.
“I have to be in you now,” I rasped. My voice was hoarse, shredded, unrecognizable. It came out as a growl. A threat. A plea. “Since that night in the bar… since I saw you, this is what I’ve wanted. And I don’t fucking understand why—why you make me lose control like this. Why you bend my will. Why I can’t stop.”
I was pouring my heart out. And I meant every goddamn word.
I kissed the curve of her cheek, lips trembling from how hard I was holding back. My heart was pounding so violently, I thought it might crack my ribs. She turned her head and bit down on my hand—not soft, not teasing—*hard.* A moan tore from my throat, raw and stunned.
“Harder, baby,” I groaned into her ear.
And she obeyed like a sweet sub.
The bite sharpened, teeth sinking in until pain burst through the haze of cold air around us. But I didn’t flinch. I didn’t stop. I welcomed the sting, let it sink into my spine and feed the feral beast inside me. I reached up and pushed her head gently forward against the rough bark of the tree. She arched beautifully, her spine curving like a bow pulled tight, and whispered, “Please, Master…”
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