She swore she was done with him. Lucas—her ex, the one man who turned her world upside down. The man who'd ruined her for anyone else. He was dangerous, violent, and completely obsessed with her. When she finally walked away, she thought it was over. But he always came back. Every time she tried to move on, he showed up, uninvited, with that knowing smirk, reminding her that he owned her. Their connection was toxic, yet undeniable—intense, dark, and so consuming she could never resist him. Now, he wasn’t just back to remind her of their past—he was here to claim her again, body and soul. And this time, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to fight anymore.
She didn’t expect him to be there. Not again. Not tonight. But as she walked into her apartment—lights off, rain tapping the window, keys still dangling from her fingers—he was already sitting on her couch like he belonged there. His leather jacket was half unzipped, his muscular chest peeking through the soaked fabric of his black shirt. Hair messy. Jaw clenched. Eyes darker than sin, fixed on her like she was prey. The kind of prey he’d already hunted a thousand times in his head. The kind of prey he was about to devour.
“Lucas,” she breathed, heart punching her ribs, thighs clenching together. “I told you not to come back.”
He didn’t say anything. Just leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring at her like she was already naked and writhing under him. Then, slowly, that cocky smirk twisted onto his lips—the same one that always fucked with her head. “Yeah?” he finally said, voice low, gravelly, dangerous. “And I told you you’d be begging for me again.”
She scoffed, tried to hide the heat rising in her cheeks, the tightness between her legs. “I don’t beg.”
He stood. Walked to her slowly, like a fucking panther. His hand came up and gripped her chin, not hard, just enough to make her feel how small she was compared to him. “No? Then what was that last time, sweetheart? You moaning my name, squeezing that tight little pussy around my cock, crying like you couldn’t take it?” He leaned down, lips brushing hers. “Sounded like begging to me.”
Her breath hitched, legs threatening to give out. Fuck, why did he affect her like this? Why did one look from him make her nipples ache and her panties soak? “I hate you,” she whispered.
He chuckled, dark and slow. “No, baby. You hate how much you want me.”
Before she could come up with a smartass reply, his mouth crashed into hers—rough, greedy, full of teeth and tongue. It was all heat, all hunger. His hands roamed her body like he was trying to remind himself of every dip, every soft curve, every spot that made her gasp. He lifted her easily, pressing her against the wall, grinding his hard cock against her soaked core. She could feel it, thick and heavy through his jeans, and it made her squirm against him, chasing friction like a desperate whore.
“God, you’re so wet already,” he groaned against her mouth, his hand slipping under her shirt, finding her bare breast, pinching her nipple until she moaned into his kiss. “You missed me, didn’t you? This pussy missed me.”
“Shut up,” she gasped, but her nails were already digging into his shoulders, her hips rolling against his cock.
He tore her shirt off, then her bra, eyes glued to her breasts. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” His mouth closed around one nipple, sucking hard, tongue flicking, then moved to the other. She whimpered, arching into him, fingers tangled in his hair.
Then he dropped her onto the couch like a ragdoll, stripping her pants and panties off in one smooth move. She was spread out for him—naked, panting, trembling. He stood over her, eyes burning.
“Look at you. So fucking pretty like this. Legs open. Pussy dripping. Waiting for me.”
“Then stop teasing,” she dared him, voice shaking. “Fuck me already.”
He grinned like the devil. “Oh, I will. But first…” He knelt between her legs and licked a long, slow stripe up her pussy, groaning at her taste. “Fucking heaven.”
His tongue flicked over her clit, slow at first, then faster, relentless, circling, sucking, until she was grabbing the cushions, hips bucking, begging, moaning. “Lucas—fuck—please—”
“Beg for it,” he said, sliding two thick fingers inside her, curling them just right, fucking her with his hand while his tongue kept punishing her clit. “Tell me how much this tight cunt needs my cock.”
“I need it—fuck—I need your cock—please, Lucas—”
He stood, unbuckling his belt, letting his pants drop. His cock sprang free—thick, veiny, dripping with pre-cum. She licked her lips, eyes wide. She remembered how it stretched her, how it ruined her every time. And now it was hers again.
He grabbed her hips, pulled her to the edge of the couch, and slammed into her in one brutal thrust. She cried out, eyes rolling back as he filled her completely. No mercy. Just raw, filthy desire.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, pounding into her, hands bruising her hips. “This pussy’s fucking made for me.”
She wrapped her legs around him, nails dragging down his back, gasping with every thrust. “Harder,” she begged. “Don’t stop—don’t you fucking dare stop—”
He fucked her like he was trying to claim her soul—rough, deep, slamming into her over and over until the couch creaked beneath them. Her pussy clenched around him, her orgasm building fast, her moans turning into screams. “Oh god—Lucas—”
“That’s it, baby,” he growled. “Come for me. Let me feel you.”
She shattered around him, pussy pulsing, body shaking, crying out his name like a prayer.
He didn’t stop.
He flipped her over, ass up, face down on the couch, and thrust back into her soaked pussy. “One more,” he snarled, fucking her even harder. “Give me another.”
She was barely breathing, barely thinking—just raw sensation, just need. Her second orgasm hit like lightning, even stronger than the first, her scream muffled by the cushions.
Then he grabbed her hair, yanked her up, and whispered, “You want my cum, baby?”
“Fuck yes,” she cried. “Fill me up—please—”
He groaned, buried himself to the hilt, and exploded inside her, cock twitching, his cum flooding her. He held her there, panting, still buried deep, his arms wrapped around her.
When he finally pulled out, she collapsed onto the couch, sweaty, ruined, and completely his.
He lay beside her, pulled her into his chest, kissing her forehead softly. “Told you you’d be begging again.”
She smiled against his skin, breathless. “Shut up.”
He smirked. “Nah. Not when your pussy says otherwise.”
