18. Zara

18

ZARA

T he tension radiates off Aksel as he remains silent, refusing to answer my question about what's troubling him. Darkness lurks beneath his stoic exterior, a hidden pain I desperately want to understand and soothe. But instead of opening up, he sweeps me into his arms, lifting me effortlessly as if I weighed nothing.

Aksel carries me into the bedroom, his piercing gaze never leaving mine. He lays me gently on the bed, his large frame looming over me, making me feel small and delicate in comparison.

Aksel's rough, calloused hands begin to explore my body with a reverence that steals my breath away. His touch is electric, igniting a fire threatening to consume me whole. He lavishes me with attention, his lips trailing scorching kisses along my neck, collarbone, and cleavage.

I arch into his touch, craving more, needing to feel his skin against mine. He strips me slowly, deliberately, his eyes drinking in every inch of my exposed flesh like a man starved. When I'm finally bare before him, he steps back, his gaze raking over me possessively.

"You're mine, Zara," he growls, his voice low and rough with desire. "I won't let anyone take you from me."

I shiver at his words, at the raw possessiveness in his tone.

Aksel strips and joins me on the bed, his powerful body covering mine, his weight pressing me into the mattress.

His mouth crashes down on mine, hard and demanding. His hands are everywhere, tugging at my hair, gripping my hips, branding me with his touch. I can feel the ridge of his arousal against my thigh, and I moan, rubbing myself against him mindlessly.

"That's it, baby girl. You want me, don't you?" His voice is thick and strained with need.

I nod frantically, unable to speak as he teases and nips at my neck. His teeth scrape my sensitive skin, and I cry out, my fingers digging into his broad shoulders. He tastes and marks me, his beard scratching my skin.

"Say it," he grunts, his hands tightening on my hips as he grinds against me. "Tell me what you want."

My cheeks flame with heat, but the words spill from my lips, driven by the insistent throbbing between my legs. "I want you. I want your cock. Please give it to me."

His eyes darken at my plea, the pupils expanding. His mouth crushes mine again as he pushes inside me, filling me with one swift stroke. We groan at the intimate connection, the heat and pressure building between us.

Aksel moves, his hips snapping as he thrusts into me with primal need. The force of his thrusts rocks the bed while he grabs my thighs, pulling me tighter against him. My legs wrap around his waist, meeting his rhythm and rising to greet each powerful stroke, our bodies moving in harmony.

His hands roam, cupping my breasts, squeezing and kneading. His thumbs tease my nipples. "Do you like it when I fuck your sweet little cunt?" He teases my nipples with his thumbs. "You love it when I touch, mark, and breed you."

I can only whimper in response, lost in the pleasure. Aksel's words are dirty, but they ignite a fire in my core that has me clawing at his back. "More," I gasp.

He bends his head, capturing a nipple between his teeth and biting down gently. "You're mine," he growls. "I'm going to mark you with my mouth, my cock. Everyone will know you're taken."

Aksel's relentless rhythm pushes me closer to the edge, and my body tightens, my breath quickening as pleasure coils low in my belly. His hands squeeze my ass, pulling me tighter against him, and he accelerates, his hips slamming into mine.

"That's it, baby girl, come for me. Let me hear you scream." His breath is hot against my ear, his voice a low, guttural growl.

His words push me over the edge, and my body convulses, waves of pleasure rippling through me. I cry out, my back arching off the bed.

"That's my good girl," he grunts, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his own release. "Your tight little cunt is milking my cock."

The filthy words fuel the fire burning between my legs. I want more of his dirty talk and possession.

Aksel's pace becomes frenzied as he loses control, his hips snapping wildly as he surges toward his climax. His hands grip my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh as he growls my name. "Zara, fuck, you're so tight. I'm gonna?—"

He groans, his body stiffening as he empties his cum inside me, his release triggering a second wave of pleasure that has me crying out again, my body shaking with the force of my orgasm.

We lie tangled together, our hearts pounding, breathing raggedly. I feel his lips press against my forehead, his hand stroking my hair. A sense of contentment washes over me, an overwhelming feeling of satisfaction.

But as I lie there, his words echo in my mind.

You're mine, Zara... I'm going to mark you... everyone will know you're taken.

A shiver runs down my spine, and I realize with a start that he's not just marking my body—he's marking my soul.

I understand there's no going back. I've surrendered myself to this man, body and soul. Whatever happens next, whatever darkness lies in store, I know I'm his forever.

But then, a new realization hits me. The knowledge that I belong to him doesn't scare me the way it should. In fact, an unfamiliar sense of peace washes over me. It's as if I've finally found where I belong—in the arms of a man who's as beautiful as he is broken.

A man named Aksel.