Chapter 17

Seventeen

Owen's grip tightened around my wrists, his eyes blazing with a mix of rage and terror. His breath came in ragged bursts, each exhale a testament to his fury.

"You were going to leave me again, weren't you?" His voice was a low growl, the words tearing from his throat like a wild animal's snarl. I couldn't speak, couldn't move. I was paralyzed by the intensity of his gaze, the ferocity of his touch.

He picked up the glass, the edge glinting in the dim light. "If you want to hurt yourself, Kira, you only have to ask me." His words were a dark promise, a twisted offer I couldn't refuse. I felt the first cut, a shallow line across my collarbone, and a gasp escaped my lips. The pain was sharp, but it was more than that. It was a release, a flood of adrenaline that coursed through my veins, making me feel alive in a way I hadn't in so long.

Owen's hands were rough as he stripped me down, each piece of clothing falling away like a barrier between us. I didn't fight him, didn't try to run. Instead, I let myself fall into the sensation, into the pain and the pleasure that came with it. Each cut was a mark of his possession, a claim on my body and my soul.

"You're mine, Kira," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire and desperation. "You can't leave me. You can't."

He handcuffed my wrists together in front of me, the metal cold against my skin. Then, with a sudden movement, he picked me up and slammed me against the wall. His mouth found mine, his teeth nipping at my lips, his tongue invading my mouth. He left a trail of hickeys and shallow cuts in his wake.

I moaned into his mouth, the sound a mix of pain and pleasure. My body responded to his touch, to the sensation of his hands on my skin, his teeth on my flesh. I was drowning in him, in the darkness that surrounded us, in the twisted desire that bound us together.

"Owen," I whispered, his name a plea and a curse. He pulled back, his eyes meeting mine, and in that moment, I saw the depth of his obsession, the intensity of his need. It was terrifying, but it was also exhilarating. It was a darkness that called to the darkness within me.

His hands roamed my body, his fingers tracing the lines of the cuts he had made. Each touch sent a jolt of electricity through me, a mix of pleasure and pain that was intoxicating. I was lost in him, in the sensation of his touch, in the knowledge that I was his, completely and utterly.

He kissed me again, his mouth moving against mine with a desperation that matched my own. I could taste the blood on his lips, the metallic tang a reminder of the darkness that bound us together. I was falling, falling into him, into the abyss that was Owen Sinclair.

And during that moment, I didn't want to be saved. I wanted to drown in him, to lose myself in the darkness that was us. I wanted to feel the pain and the pleasure, the love and the hate, the desire and the despair. I wanted it all, every twisted, fucked-up part of it.

Because at that moment, I was alive . I was feeling. I was his.

I was breathless, every nerve in my body alight, and then he was stripping. His movements were frantic, desperate, and as his shirt came off, I saw them. Swirling black tattoos adorned his left bicep, a dark mark on his perfect skin. I bit my lip, my eyes widening as he revealed more, every inch of him sculpted to perfection. Muscles flexed as he worked, his eyes never leaving mine, and then he was fully naked. I felt a flush of desire, a heat that pooled between my legs.

Owen stepped closer, his hands gripping mine, and he raised my arms above my head. I felt vulnerable, exposed, and my heart began to pound. Our gazes locked, his eyes burning with an intensity that seared me. I licked my lips, feeling a rush of adrenaline, and he leaned in, his mouth capturing mine in a hungry kiss.

I moaned into his mouth as he thrust his tongue against mine. It was a possessive move, a claim, and I felt a surge of desire so intense it stole my breath. His hands tightened on mine, holding them firmly in place, and then he entered me.

A gasp escaped my lips as I felt him fill me, a sensation unlike any other. It was intimate, it was possessive, and I felt overwhelmed with a rush of emotions. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream, I wanted to feel it all. Owen began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, and I felt every inch of him.

"You like that, Kira?" he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. "You like feeling me inside you?"

I could only nod, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I was lost in the sensation, in the feel of him moving within me, and then he quickened his pace. His movements became more urgent, his grip on my hands tightening.

I watched as he placed the shard of glass to my chest. Owen was carving his name into my skin, marking me as his own. I cried out, my back arching, and he thrust harder. The pain and pleasure mingled, a heady mix that had me sobbing, begging for more.

"That's it, Kira. Feel it. Feel me." His voice was a husky command, and I obeyed. I felt the blood trickling down my chest, felt his hands slick with it, and still, he thrust into me. I was a mess of sensations, of pleasure and pain, and I knew I was his. "Mine. You're all mine. Now everyone will see it and know too."

"Owen," I panted, my voice hoarse. "I—I can't—I need?—"

"I know what you need, baby." He thrust harder, his hips slamming into mine. "You need me. You need my cock, deep inside you."

His words sent a shockwave through me, and I cried out, my body tensing. I was on the edge, so close, and yet I didn't want it to end. I wanted to stay in this moment forever, caught in the rush of pleasure and the agony of my heart.

"Come for me, Kira," he growled, his voice hoarse. "Come on my cock."

And I did. I shattered, crying out his name as my body convulsed around him. I felt his name, branded on my chest as a permanent reminder of this moment. Owen followed, his release claiming me, marking me as his in the most primal way.

We collapsed in a heap, our bodies still joined, and I felt his weight on me, his breath against my neck. I was his, completely and utterly, and in that moment, I didn't want to be anywhere else.