“It should.” He reaches beneath me and grabs my butt, his hands squeezing my cheeks so hard I cry out. I can feel every one of his fingers drive into my flesh and I know he’s marking me. “That has to hurt, right?”

“No.” What is he doing? Is he trying to purposely harm me? Is this some sort of sick reasoning on his part so he can drive me away?

Ryder lifts me, brings my lower body closer to his so his cock slides deep. So deep I swear he’s touching my womb, the very deepest, darkest part of me, where no other man has ever been before. He thrusts again. And again. Brutally fucking me, taking me, yes, even … making me hurt.

But I won’t give up. The pleasure overrides the pain and I cling to him, my legs wrapped tight around his hips, my arms circling around his shoulders. He can’t get rid of me that quick.

I won’t let him.

“Tell me to stop,” he commands as he shoves his cock inside of me, his hands still gripping my ass, his thrusts shallow, then deeper. “Tell me, Violet.”

“No.” I kiss his neck, lick him, suck his flesh, and finally give in to the urge.

I sink my teeth into his skin, so hard I hear him gasp in surprise, and then he’s pulling away from me, withdrawing from my body and flipping me around so I’m on all fours, my ass to him as he slides his cock inside me from behind.

“You think you can hurt me?” he asks, his tone mocking, his balls slapping against my sex with his every vicious thrust. He’s trying to break me down and I refuse to let him. I won’t run away from him no matter how hard he tries to make me.

“Yes,” I hiss in answer because I truly believe I’m hurting him already. Why else would he act this way?

He grips my hips with his big hands and pulls me onto his cock; back and forth I ride him. He doesn’t move, just slides me along his thick, pulsing length, the friction and the heat sparking another orgasm deep within me, one that makes me come apart with a guttural groan as it ripples through my body, my inner walls milking his cock in a rhythmic motion that has him moaning along with me.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” he whispers, his hands moving to grab at my ass and spread me wide. “Watching your tight pussy take my cock makes me wanna come.”

“Do it,” I urge him, savoring the words he says to me. I want to feel him lose control. He’s been in command this entire time. Trying to push me, hurt me, make me hate him. But I fought back every step of the way.

I refuse to back down.

“No.” He slaps my ass so hard it stings and I buck against him, crying out. I hadn’t expected that. “You’re not in control of this, Violet. I am.”

What the hell is happening to me? He’s being so rough, so horrible, and I … I love it. I want more. I want him to break me. I want him to bring me pain and pleasure and every sensation in between.

And when he lifts me up to my knees, his hand wrapped around my throat, his mouth at my ear whispering the filthiest things I’ve ever heard, I almost come for the third time just at the sound of his voice.

“You enjoy me fucking you like an animal, don’t you?” he asks, his voice low and dark. So dark, like his fucked-up heart and lost soul.

“I like fucking you,” I tell him, my breath stalling in my throat when his fingers tighten. He wields all the control, his cock buried inside me, his teeth nibbling my earlobe, his fingers pressing into my neck, against my windpipe. I tell myself not to panic. He won’t hurt me. He would never hurt me. He’s just angry … but not at me. I know it’s not at me.

So who is his anger aimed at? And why?

“I wanna come all over your pretty tits,” he whispers, his other hand grabbing one, sure fingers pinching my nipple until I wince. “I want to mark you with my come. I want you to taste it.”

“Please.” I reach up and circle his thick wrist with my fingers as best I can. My eyes shutter closed and I lose myself to the sensation of his cock moving inside my aching body, his fingers softening around my throat, his other hand twisting my nipple until the heady burn of pain radiates from my skin. My legs ache, my body aches, and I feel like I’m going to collapse.

“I’m a sick, twisted fuck, Violet,” he tells me. “I’m no good. Not good enough for you.”

“I don’t care.” I shake my head and his fingers tighten around my neck once again, making me freeze.

“You should care. You’re a good girl. So pure, so sweet. I’ll fucking wreck you.” He sounds both excited and scared, all at once. He’s speaking the truth. I am a good girl. And he’s bad. Awful.

Yet I want him.

“I want you to wreck me if it’s always going to feel like this.” His cock twitches deep within my body and I lean back, my head on his shoulder, his mouth still at my ear, his breathing harsh. He’s breaking me down and building me back up and God help me, I love it. I want more of it.

“You don’t want to be mine.” His voice is firm.

“I do.”

“You couldn’t handle it.”

“I can.”

“Swear?”

I nod, his curved fingers bumping into my chin since he hasn’t released his grip on my throat. “Make me yours.”

“You want to be mine.” He doesn’t ask, he’s telling me, and my brain grows fuzzy at the constant back-and-forth between us. I’m close to coming. Again. His words, his command, his hands, his cock so deep … I can’t take it. I’m overwhelmed.