CHAPTER 47: I WANT TO FUCK YOU HARD

Roman’s POV

The way she stood against the wall, bracing against what she thought was coming her way, I felt bad that she still didn’t trust me—but she was not at fault after experiencing no mercy from men.

She must think everyone looked at her as nothing more than just a fucktool, and I had no will to prove her wrong.

Because, in the end, the five of us were going to do the same with her sooner or later to fulfill our revenge. So no need to raise her hopes into trusting me. It will only hurt her more.

If she thought all our kind only knew how to fuck women and want them for only one purpose, then she was not wrong either. We werewolves with an insatiable sex drive were just that. Unless the woman is our mate, she was nothing more than a fucktool. And if the woman is someone we like, then we wouldn’t wait to get between her legs.

Eira was just that—not my mate, but still the woman I once liked. The one who stirred every dark and sinful urge inside me.

I wanted to fuck her until her body broke, until my name was the only word she knew. I wanted to ruin her for every man alive.

But now was not the time

So I said calmly, "Relax. I’m just washing your back and legs. I don’t plan to do anything to you, yet. Not in the bathroom. Not while you’re still hurt."

She needed to know she was only being spared for now. That she should prepare herself, ready her mind for what was to come.

But, of all the things, the kindness I was showing to her wasn’t an act. I cared for her genuinely after seeing her badly hurt and knowing what happened to her in prison.

I wasn’t in a hurry to make her realize it. Eventually, she will understand it.

Even after my words, she didn’t relax. Her breath was shallow, her fingers tight against the wall, still bracing herself for pain.

I turned off the shower and stepped out to get a towel. When I returned, I covered her trembling back with a towel so I could wrap the soft fabric around her soaked body.

But I couldn’t deny that seeing her—naked, water glistening over every curve and scar—I couldn’t look away.

My cock ached. My hands itched to grab her hips and pull her against me. If she had whispered that she wanted me to take her right then, I would have lost every ounce of restraint I had left.

I stepped closer, pressing my torso against her back just enough for her to feel the heat radiating off me. The thin towel was all that separated her back from my chest.

I placed my hands over hers where they rested against the wall. Her skin was still damp, still warm, and I could feel the tension locked in her fingers.

I leaned in, letting my lips hover just above the nape of her neck. I didn’t kiss her. I just breathed her in.

Fuck.

Her scent was lethal. Even now, even broken, she smelled like fire and forbidden sin. It was enough to drive any man mad.

In the past, I used to crave her the same way. But I was too much of a jackass to handle it properly. I didn’t know how to get her attention. The only thing I knew was how to bully her.

I wanted her thoughts to be filled with me. I didn’t care if she loved me or hated me. Hate would do, as long as it meant I was on her mind and the only one she thought about.

I felt her body tense beneath my hands, rigid as stone, and that silent reaction only fueled the fire burning inside me. My voice dropped to a growl as I asked, "Do you really want me to fuck you right here?"

She didn’t answer. Her silence screamed louder than any plea. I could hear the faint sound of her swallowing, the way her chest barely moved with each shallow breath. She was terrified, but too used to the pain to resist. She had learned by now that fighting back rarely made a difference.

I inhaled deeply, forcing the beast inside me to settle, and slowly turned her around. Her face remained lowered, her wet hair clinging to her cheeks, refusing to meet my gaze. I wrapped the towel securely around her slender frame, then lifted her chin with my fingers.

Her empty eyes met mine. Lifeless, guarded, unreadable.

"Eira," I said, my voice low but firm, "trust me, I want to do all kinds of bad things to you. But when I say it’s not the time, you should believe me."

There wasn’t a flicker of change in her gaze. No defiance, no hope, no anger. Just a void, as if the meaning of trust had been carved out of her soul a long time ago.

I studied her face closely. It was pale, thinner than I remembered, yet still so fucking beautiful. My fingers brushed aside a damp strand of hair stuck to her skin, trailing down the curve of her cheek. My gaze dropped to her lips—wet, delicate, and far too tempting after that warm bath.

I ran my thumb gently across them, my breath mingling with hers, and I let the truth pour out.

"I can’t wait for the day you’re healed," I murmured, against her lips, my voice rough with need. "So I can fuck you hard enough to make you scream my name until your throat gives out. Not from pain, but from the kind of pleasure that makes your body tremble. I’ll make you come so many times you’ll forget how to breathe. You’ll beg me for more. You’ll cry for it. You’ll beg me to fuck you harder, again and again, until you can’t think of anything but my cock. I’ll ruin you for everything you know."

I leaned closer, our lips barely brushing, close enough to steal a kiss, to taste what had been tormenting me for years.

"How I wish..." I whispered, my voice tightening with restraint, "...but I might just end up suffocating you to death."

She was still too fragile. Her ribs hadn’t healed fully, her breathing was uneven. One deep kiss and I wouldn’t be able to stop. One second longer and I might be kissing a corpse.

I rested my forehead against hers for a brief moment, trying to calm the savage pulse in my blood.

"Just be good," I whispered against her lips, "and trust me when I tell you something. Alright?"

She finally exhaled the breath she had been holding—sharp and shallow—and lowered her gaze once again.

I took that as her agreement and stepped away from her.

"Let me take off my clothes. I’ll carry you out."

My shirt and pants were soaked through. I removed them and wrapped a towel around my waist.

She kept her gaze fixed downward, still standing exactly where I left her. Maybe she didn’t want to see me naked. Maybe she just couldn’t bear to look.

God, I was hard as hell just by the thought of kissing her and being close to her.

Heaven knows what I’ll do when I finally get to fuck her.