My lips parted, trembling with anticipation and heat, and Adrian didn’t hesitate.

He pushed the head of his cock into my mouth, slow and possessive—like he had all the time in the world to defile me right in front of Ethan.

“Good girl,” he murmured, sliding in deeper. “Take it all, just like that.”

I gagged softly around him, my throat stretching as he pressed farther in. One of his hands tangled in my hair, the other resting heavy on the back of my head. He didn’t stop for a second, didn’t give me time to adjust.

Adrian held me there, cock buried in my throat, the heat of him making my eyes water.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

I blinked up, tears clinging to my lashes, lips stretched wide around his thick length. His gaze was brutal, feral—dripping with possessive pride.

Behind him, I caught a glimpse of Ethan, still silent, still watching. I moaned around Adrian’s cock at the humiliation… at the power of it.

“So fucking beautiful,” Adrian growled, slowly rocking his hips. “You look better choking on my cock than you ever did trying to please him.”

Then he began to fuck my mouth. Hard. Relentless.

Wet sounds echoed through the room as saliva dripped down my chin and onto my bare chest. His hips snapped forward with increasing force, balls slapping my throat as he used my mouth like it was his to ruin.

I gagged again, but it only made him groan deeper.

“That’s right, take it. Take every inch of it,” he snarled. “You want to be a good little slut, don’t you? My little slut.”

I nodded, unable to answer with my throat full of him.

He pulled out abruptly, a thick string of spit connecting my lips to the swollen tip of his cock. I gasped for breath, chest heaving, spit and tears mixing down my cheeks.

He wiped the mess with his thumb and shoved it into my mouth. “Taste what a good girl you’ve been.”

My tongue curled around him instinctively, eyes fluttering shut.

Then he grabbed me, rough and commanding, hoisting me back onto the leather table like I weighed nothing. My back hit the cool surface, legs dangling off the edge, body already quivering from the brutal mouth-fucking.

Adrian spread my thighs without a word, gaze locked on my soaked, glistening pussy.

“Look at this,” he murmured, running two fingers through my folds. “Dripping badly and I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

He lined himself up, the head of his cock dragging along my slick slit, teasing, pressing, but not entering.

“Beg,” he said.

“Please, sir,” I gasped, hips lifting off the table, desperate for friction. “I need you… Fuck me, please…”

His smile was all teeth and shadow. Then he slammed into me.

The stretch stole my breath and I cried out, arching off the table as he bottomed out in one savage thrust.

“That’s it,” he hissed. “Fucking take it.”

He pulled back and drove into me again—rough, deep, messy. My slick gushed around him, soaking his cock, our bodies smacking together with every punishing thrust.

The leather squeaked beneath us, the table rocking from the force.

Adrian gripped my wrists and pinned them above my head, his chest grazing mine as he pounded into me.

“This pussy was wasted on him,” he growled. “But now? Fucking ruined for anyone else.”

He released my wrists just long enough to yank my legs up over his shoulders. The new angle had me screaming—he was so deep, dragging over every sensitive spot inside me like he knew my body better than I did.

“Come on, princess, let it go,” he demanded, eyes blazing down into mine. “I want to feel you come around my cock.”

My body obeyed and I shattered. Orgasm tore through me like fire, my walls clenching around him, milking his length, body thrashing beneath him.

“Yes, you fucking can,” he snarled. “And you will.”

“I’m exhausted.”

“Exactly,” she smirked. “Ravished. Wrecked. Probably bruised.”

I looked away, biting my bottom lip so hard it ached.

Truth was… she wasn’t wrong.

I still couldn’t believe Adrian had done that. That I had let him. Ethan—tied up in the corner like a ghost from my past, forced to watch me come undone for the man who now owned me in every possible way. It should’ve been disturbing. It was disturbing.

But it was also… Hot. Shamefully, wickedly, messily hot.

Every moan Adrian pulled out of me had been louder. Deeper. Like I needed Ethan to see what he’d thrown away. Like I needed someone else to witness just how far I’d fallen—and how good it felt.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” Cleo nudged me with her shoulder. “You know I’m dying for the play-by-play.”

I cleared my throat, adjusting the strap of my bag. “It was like usual.”

She stopped walking. “Usual? Sophie, your usual includes a masked literature professor, a mansion with a red room, and last night—a game or something.”

I gave her a dry look.

She rolled her eyes. “Right. I forgot. We’re pretending you’re not absolutely feral now.”

“I’m not… feral,” I muttered.

“You’re one orgasm away from snarling. Don’t lie.”

I didn’t answer. Mostly because she was right. And because the second I tried to explain how I felt, it would sound insane. I wasn’t even sure if what happened last night was about power, or revenge, or possession.

All I knew was Adrian’s hands on me had never felt more necessary. And Ethan’s eyes in the dark had never made me feel more… seen.