Victor.
I gasped when I realized it was him.
The hand over my mouth was warm, familiar — too familiar — fingers firm enough to silence me without hurting. My heart slammed violently against my ribs, fear flaring sharp and instinctive before recognition crashed through it.
His eyes were inches from mine.
Dark. Burning. Furious.
"Shh," he whispered, breath hot against my cheek. "Be quiet."
Rage flooded me instantly, drowning the fear.
I twisted, slapping his hand away with everything I had.
"What are you doing?" I hissed. "You think you can just show up like this?"
He didn't answer. He just watched me — slow, deliberate — like he was memorizing every breath, every tremor.
"You ignored me for days," I snapped, shoving my palms into his chest, "and now you come here like I'm—" My voice broke with fury. "Like I'm your little whore?"
Something dark flashed in his eyes.
Before I could finish the sentence, his hands were on my face, tilting my chin up. His mouth crashed down on mine — hard, unforgiving, all teeth and anger and restraint finally snapping.
I fought him.
I did.
I shoved at his shoulders, turned my head, and tried to break free. "Victor—stop—"
He didn't.
His grip tightened just enough to hold me in place, not trapping — grounding. His kiss deepened, slowed, turned punishingly deliberate, like he was reminding my body of something my mind wanted to forget.
My resistance faltered.
Not because I was weak — but because my body remembered him too well.
The way my breath hitched.
The way my hands curled into his shirt instead of pushing him away.
The way the anger twisted into something hotter, messier.
He pulled back just enough for his forehead to rest against mine.
"You don't get to pretend you're nothing to me," he said quietly. Dangerously and controlling
My chest heaved. "You don't get to disappear," I shot back. "You don't get to touch me only when it suits you."
His jaw clenched.
"I tried to stay away," he admitted, voice low. "And you made sure I couldn't."
Victor pinned me down hard on his body, heavy and unyielding, one hand clamped tight over my mouth, the other pinning my wrist above my head against the carpet.
His breath is hot and ragged against my ear, laced with fury and something darker, something possessive that makes my pulse race even as I fight him.
"You think you can replace me with him?" he growls, voice low and venomous, lips brushing my skin.
"You think some pretty cousin can make you laugh like that? Make you wet like that?
You think anyone else gets to hear those little sounds you make when you're falling apart?"
Rage explodes in my chest—rage at him for walking away every time, leaving me dripping and aching, rage at Elena for owning him in ways I never could, rage at myself for still wanting this man so badly it feels like dying slowly.
I twist violently beneath him, teeth sinking deep into the meat of his palm. Copper floods my tongue, sharp and metallic. He hisses in pain, grip faltering just enough for me to wrench free.
I shove him off with everything I have—palms slamming into his chest, nails digging in through his shirt.
He stumbles back one step, his eyes flashed in shock, and his hand bled where I bit him.
My hands slammed against his chest, tearing my nails deeply through his shirt, his fabric ripped loud in the quiet room as his buttons scatter across the floor like broken promises.
"You want me?" I snarl, voice shaking with fury and raw, desperate need. "Prove it. Leave her."
His cock is already rock-hard under me, straining painfully against his pants, thick and insistent, pressing up against my soaked, bare pussy. He grabs my hips—bruising grip, fingers digging into flesh—but he doesn't push me off. His eyes burn, pupils blown wide, torn between rage and hunger so deep it mirrors my own.
"Alyssa—" he starts, warning thick in his voice, as his jaw tightens
I grind down hard, rolling my hips slow and deliberate so my dripping folds drag along the rigid length of him through the fabric, soaking the front of his pants. He groans despite himself, his head falling back against the floor, throat working as he fights for control.
I rip his shirt open wider—buttons popping, scattering. My nails rake down his chest, leaving angry red trails over his hard muscle, over the scars I know by heart from nights he let me touch him in secret, when he pretended he didn't need me.
"Say it," I demand, leaning down until my lips brush his, breath mingling hot and fast. "Say you'll leave her. Say you're mine."
He snarls, flips us in one brutal motion so I'm under him again, wrists pinned above my head, and his weight crushing me into the carpet.
"No," he bites out, voice rough, eyes black with conflict.
But his mouth crashes onto mine angrily, starving, his teeth clashing and forcing his tongue into my mouth, claiming every inch like he's trying to erase Aaron's name from my lips.
I bit back, so hard that I tasted his blood and moaned into his mouth like the desperate slut he turned me into.
He growls as he rips my robe open in one savage yank. Cool air hits my naked skin, my nipples instantly tightened and ached, begging for his mouth. He didn't wait—he forced his lips on my throat, sucking hard enough to bruise, marking me where Elena will see tomorrow and know.
His hand slides between my legs—no teasing, no gentleness.
His fingers plunged into me so deeply, curling me roughly and stretching me open, pumping fast while his thumb grinds merciless circles on my swollen clit.
My pussy clenches greedily around him, slick and hot as my juices coats his hand, dripping down to the carpet.
I arch, moaning loudly, bucking my hips into his fingers like I can't help it.
"Fuck—Victor—"
He pumps harder, palm slapping wet against my pussy, fingers curling perfect, hitting that spot over and over until my vision whites out at the edges. "You're dripping," he mutters against my skin, voice rough and thick. "Still so fucking wet for me even after so long huh"
This pussy knows who it belongs to. Always has."
I claw his back, nails drawing blood through his torn shirt. "I hate you," I gasp, even as my hips chase his fingers and my pussy clenching desperately around them. "I hate you so fucking much—"
He laughs dark, low, and dangerous. "Liar."
He pulls his fingers out—wet, shining with my slick. Shove them into my mouth.
"Suck."
I do. Greedy. Swirling my tongue, tasting myself on him, moaning around his fingers like the desperate whore he makes me.
He yanks his pants open and his cock springs free—heavy, thick, veins bulging, head flushed dark and leaking pre-cum in thick beads that drip onto my thigh.
No condom.
No hesitation.
He lines up and slams in deeply, brutally stretching me widely in one vicious stroke.
I screamed, half pain, half ecstasy as my naiils dug deeply into his shoulders and my legs wraps his waist, heels digging into his ass to pull him deeper.
He doesn't let me adjust. He pounds hard, and relentless as the bed creaks under us, and the headboard slamming the wall in rhythm with his thrusts.
"Fuck—Victor—" I gasped as my voice breaks on every deep plunge.
He grabs my throat—not choking, just holding it , pressing his thumb on my pulse, feeling how fast my heart races for him. "Say my name."
"Victor—"
"Louder."
"Victor!"
He angles deeper, dragging his cock over my g-spot at every stroke.
His balls slapped my ass wet and obscene, sounding loud and filthy in the quiet room.
"You think anyone else can fuck you like this?" he snarls, hips snapping forward. "Anyone else fill this tight cunt this deep? Make you scream like a whore? Make you come so hard you forget your own name?"
I shake my head frantically, tears spilling down my cheeks. "No—no one—"
"Say it."
"You're the only one," I moan, my voice cracking. "Only you—fuck—only your cock—"
He flips me suddenly—face down, ass up, fisting his hands in my hair, yanking my head back so my back arches sharply, and my tits pressed into the carpet.
"Again."
"Victor!"
He slams in from behind, deeper angle now, his cock hitting so far inside I feel it in my stomach, balls slapping my clit wet and filthy with every thrust.
"I've missed this," I gasp, pushing back desperately, meeting every brutal stroke, jiggling my ass with the force. "Fuck—how long has it been? I've missed your cock so much—missed you ruining me like this—"
He groans,"Too fucking long."
"I need to get you out of my system—fuck—I hate you but—oh God—but I can't stop—please—"
I shatter—orgasm ripping through me hardly.
He doesn't stop he fucks me through it, harder,
He slams deep one last time—groans my name, his nody shaking as he erupts.
Hot, thick ropes shooting inside me, flooding my pussy, overflowing, leaking out around his cock, dripping down my thighs mixed with my own release.
He lowers his mouth hungrily.
Tongue flat—long lick from my ass to my clit, tasting our mixed cum, lapping slow at my swollen entrance, pushing inside me deep, curling to scoop every drop.
I moan loud, hips bucking.
He sucks my clit hard, tongue flicking fast, as his fingers spread me wider.
I arch, with my hands fisting imto the sheets.
"Fuck—Victor—eat me—suck that pussy—"
He hums against me, vibration sending shocks through my core.
Tongue fucking me deep, steady, relentless.
I'm shaking, close again, thighs trembling around his head.
Then—
A knock.
Sharp. Three times.
On the bedroom door.
Victor jumps out of me immediately, his mouth was still full of my juice and his eyes widened.
I stand there with my legs shaking, and my pussy throbbing, as cum still leaked down my thighs.
wondering who it might be.