I returned into the house after an hour-long intense workout, but I still didn’t feel like I’d calmed down. I went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to wipe my sweat off.

A sound caught my attention, so I walked closer to Cara’s room. The noise was coming from inside. It sounded like she was moaning.

I lowered the towel slowly, my groin tightening. I moved closer and put my ear to the door. Again, a moan, low and drawn out. I closed my eyes. She was touching herself because of me. I had no doubt about it.

Fuck. I could feel myself hardening at the mere idea of what was going on behind that closed door.

Why was I even still standing here? I grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. I made sure to be as quiet as possible. I didn’t want her to notice me right away I peered inside, and couldn’t believe my eyes. She wasn’t even awake. Her eyes were closed and her breathing too low. I stepped inside as I watched one of her hands move between her legs.

Her lips were slightly parted and another moan slipped out. I dropped the towel and approached the bed. Fuck, I wasn’t a good man, not even a decent one, and she was making this damn hard for me. I could practically smell her arousal, or my mind was already starting to trick me.

I perched on the bed, careful not to wake her. But I needn’t have worried. She was lost in her dream. She writhed then parted her legs under the blanket. I stifled a groan at the sight. I took the edge of the blanket and slowly pulled it down to her knees. She was wearing a nightgown that had slipped up to her hips, laying her pussy bare to me. I drew in a deep breath as I watched one of her slender fingers slowly slide over her lower lips.

It was the first time I’d seen her pussy. She wasn’t clean-shaven like the whores I’d had in the past. She trimmed herself, but soft brown hair covered her mound. My cock was so hard, I was surprised I hadn’t exploded yet. Perhaps this would be the first time I would come in my pants. She mewled again, needy, but her own touch didn’t seem to get her where she wanted to go. I could tell that her touch wasn’t practiced. Damn it. I was tired of resisting when it was so obvious that she wanted me as much as I wanted her.

I leaned over her, letting her heady scent flood my nose. I took a long lick over her swollen pussy lips, and her taste was so sweet, it drove me completely crazy. She shuddered and moaned loudly. I couldn’t take anymore. I pushed her hand away and slipped my tongue between her folds. I licked her tight hole, lapping up her juices, and slowly traveled up to the small nub at the top. She moaned and then tensed. She was awake, but I was determined not to let her mind get the better of her. I drew her clit into my mouth, and sucked in a gentle rhythm. My tongue nudged her clit as I suckled, and she quivered.

She inhaled sharply. The tension in her body remained, but she didn’t push me away or say anything. She was conflicted—I could tell. I used all my skills to convince her. I let her clit slide out from between my lips and drew soft circles with my tongue before I licked my way back down to her tight channel again. I dipped in. She was slick with arousal. Hot and willing.

“We can’t do this,” she said shakily, but there was hardly any conviction in her voice, and that was all I needed. I licked her harder, dipped my tongue into her, then suckled her clit again. She cried out, and like that she came already, flooding my mouth with her sweetness. I didn’t stop. This had only been the first battle. I kept licking then fucked her with my tongue again. I didn’t give her time to recover. I slipped a finger into her. She was so wet, I was met with barely any resistance.

My cock was almost raw from rubbing against my pants, but I needed more time for her. I needed to prepare her for what was to come. This time there was no stopping.

Cara

I could hardly breathe. My body was burning up, my pulse speeding. Everything felt so incredibly intense. Growl was practically buried in my lap, licking and kissing and sucking. I was so close to my second orgasm. His hand snaked under my nightgown and up to my breast. His fingers closed around my nipple and twisted, and just like that another wave crashed over me, even harder than before. What was happening? I couldn’t grasp a clear thought.

I hardly noticed him getting out of his clothes and only realized what was going to happen when he crouched over me. I wasn’t ready for this, would never be. I needed to stop him, needed to end this before everything was too late.

He climbed between my legs, parting them. His eyes held mine. I couldn’t move, couldn’t say or do anything. I’d feared this moment when Falcone had gifted me to Growl and now it was happening, but so different from how I’d imagined it.

And then he started pushing into me, and I clung to him tightly, my fingers gouging the inked skin of his upper arms. He was tearing me apart. He didn’t slow, didn’t stop. But he watched my face. Laid me bare with his gaze in so many ways. Wasn’t it enough that I was lying naked beneath him? Did he have to strip away the wards over my soul, did he have to make me feel even more vulnerable than I already was? I gasped. It hurt. In so many ways. Was this how losing yourself felt?

My body yielded, and yet I was tearing apart. Not physically, though I wished my inner tumult would manifest in a physical way. Pain wasn’t enough. Not this pain, not when it mingled with hints of pleasure. I wanted to lower my eyelids, wanted to black out the world around and the man above me but I kept my eyes open, kept looking up into that striking face of my captor, my owner, and now lover. Hatred should have been at the forefront of my mind, but it wasn’t. It was still there, still strong, but it was battling with other emotions. Emotions I didn’t want to feel. Compassion and understanding. Gratefulness for his almost kindness and even hints of pity.

With every thrust, Growl seemed to rip a piece of me away. I wasn’t just losing my innocence; I seemed to be losing parts of myself.

Then stop him. Do it, as long as there’s still something left of you. My nails buried deeper into Growl’s arms and he grunted, eyes flashing with pleasure. He was enjoying it. And in turn my own body hummed with delight. He never slowed, never took his eyes off me. His muscled chest glistened with sweat. Pain gave way to something warmer, something that thrilled through my body stronger than any sting could. I drew my fingers up to Growl’s shoulders, scratching, leaving a red path along my way, and relishing in it, and in the droplets of blood that dotted the spot where I’d clung to him.

Growl began shaking, head falling forward, and he let out a groan before he dropped to the mattress beside me.

Red half-moon-shaped marks littered his arms, proof of what had happened. Not proof of a struggle, of resistance, of a fight. Not proof of what should have been. I couldn’t draw consolation from those marks. They weren’t signs of my unwillingness, of a brave struggle against Growl’s taking of me. No, I’d let him conquer me, had relished it even. What was wrong with me? How could I have let it happen?

I could only imagine what Trish and Anastasia would say if they saw me now. They’d be shocked and disgusted, and they would talk about it for days. But they didn’t matter, not anymore.

Mother and Talia did, and they would judge me just as well if they knew. How could they not? How could anyone not condemn me for what I’d allowed Growl to do?

Is this how losing myself feels? That question still ghosted around my brain, but now another question had been added to the mix, one that scared me even more. How could you lose yourself if you never had the chance to find yourself? I pushed the thought away, banished the myriad of thoughts crowding my brain. I couldn’t take them anymore. Growl lay panting next to me. His face looked relaxed, blank, more so than ever before, as if through the carnal act of sex he’d managed to free himself, managed to banish whatever demons haunted him.