16+(mature scene ahead )

Feminine moans along with desperate groans, echoed off the cold, unyielding walls. Reece froze, her pulse racing as the sounds wrapped around her like a haunting melody. They were so familiar—far too familiar. A chilling realization gripped her. Those breathless whimpers were her own.
"I haven't even started, and look at you," a voice rasped against her ear, dark and thick with amusement. His breath, hot and claiming, brushed along her skin, making her shiver against her will. The voice belonged to her tormentor, the one whose presence lingered even when absent.
"I promise you," he murmured, his lips barely grazing the shell of her ear, "no man will ever be enough for you after me, love." His hand traced the curve of her waist, possessive and deliberate, as though daring her body to deny his claim.
The woman beneath him trembled, helpless and broken, her guilt spilling out in quiet sobs. Her lips, swollen and bitten raw, quivered as tears streaked down her flushed cheeks. She looked ruined, fragile beneath his unyielding touch, yet something about her fractured beauty was dangerously alluring.
His mouth descended on her neck, teeth grazing sensitive skin before he marked her with bruised kisses, each one deeper than the last. Shades of violet and blue bloomed across her collarbone, painting a path of his dominance. A strangled sob escaped her lips, caught between pain and something she refused to name aloud.
The red dress clung to her body, damp and betraying every curve as it slipped lower, threatening to spill away her last shred of dignity before his ravenous gaze. His fingers tangled in the thin fabric, sliding it off her shoulder with a slow, deliberate precision that made her heart hammer in protest and anticipation.
"You're mine, Maeve," he whispered against her skin, voice rough yet reverent. "My little flower." His lips followed his words, trailing heat down the curve of her throat. Each touch seared through her, leaving a trail of fire that warred with her instinct to pull away.
Her breath hitched as his teeth grazed her skin once more, and despite herself, her body arched into his touch. Shame coiled in her stomach, bitter and consuming.
"You fight it," he mused, his voice a low growl against her ear. "But your body already knows who it belongs to." His fingers slid up her thigh, tracing dangerous paths that made defiance falter on her lips.
Tears blurred her vision, her breath catching in her throat as she fought to reconcile the betrayal of her own senses. Her lips parted, but the words caught there were strangled into silence.
Then she saw it—a flicker of hatred. The reflection of herself in his eyes twisted the air between them. For a moment, time seemed to fracture. The woman staring back was no longer Maeve but Reece herself—raw, unrecognizable, her features marred by anger and loathing.
Not for him. But for the reflection of who she had become.

Reece woke up with a jolt, her chest heaving as fragments of a dream clung stubbornly to her thoughts. Heat crept up her neck, and her mind scrambled to piece together the fading flashes. It wasn't fully clear, but the lingering sensation was unmistakably intimate—and unsettling.

Her heart raced, but whether from leftover tension or sheer confusion, she couldn't tell. Did I just have a sexual dream about... No. She cut that thought off immediately. Details slipped through her fingers like sand, and honestly? She didn't want them back.

That's when she felt it—a slow, deliberate exhale against the nape of her neck. The warmth prickled her skin, unmistakably real. Panic ignited in her veins as instinct took over. Without thinking, she drove her elbow backward.

A grunt followed, low and annoyed, but before she could react further, she was flipped flat onto her stomach, a solid weight pressing into her back. Strong hands twisted her left arm just enough to immobilize her without pain.

"That hurts, honey," he murmured near her ear, voice rough with sleep but laced with amusement. "Don't ever say good morning to me like that again."

Her face burned. "Good morning?" she snapped, struggling beneath his hold. "What the fuck are you doing in my bed?"

He let her arm go with infuriating ease, but instead of moving away, he stayed pressed against her, his bare chest warm and solid against her spine.

"Sleeping," he replied nonchalantly, as if this situation was the most natural thing in the world.

"You're not supposed to be here!" She squirmed, trying to wiggle out from under him, but he shifted slightly, making escape impossible.

"I disagree," he said lazily, brushing a kiss against her forehead like it was the most normal way to defuse the situation. "Your bed's comfier than mine."

Her eyes narrowed. "That's not an excuse, you psycho!"

He grinned into her hair. "I'd say it's a perfectly valid one. But hey, if you want me gone so badly..." He made a half-hearted attempt to move off her, only to settle back down with a smirk when she grunted in frustration.

"You're impossible."

"And you're soft," he teased, resting his chin on her shoulder as if this was all a game. "So soft."

"I'm going to murder you," she threatened, voice low and venomous.

"Sure, honey." His grin widened. "But maybe after breakfast?"

Her fists clenched. "Get off me now."

"Say please."

She glared at him over her shoulder. "Please get your annoying, heavy ass off me."

With a theatrical sigh, he finally rolled off to the side, propping himself up on one elbow. "See? That wasn't so hard."

"You're deranged," she muttered, sitting up and pushing her disheveled hair back.

"Deranged, but charming."

"Not even close."

He winked, completely unbothered. "We'll see about that."

Reece groaned inwardly. It was going to be a long morning.

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A/N

This is my first attempt at writing something intimate, and I would appreciate any feedback or suggestions for improvement.

Lots of love 

~Sarah ♡