Chapter 8
Chloe’s POV
Sixth day. Sophie’s suspicion had hardened into something sharper.
Her eyes lingered on the back of my neck for a long moment.
The fresh bite mark was only half-hidden by my hair. The cabin still carried the heavy scent of what had happened the night before.
She didn’t explode. She only went quiet, her expression complicated and closed.
The air between the three of us stayed stretched thin and strange.
During the day Victor still found ways to touch me in the open.
Fingertips brushing the back of my hand when he passed something over. Palm pressing briefly against my waist as he walked by.
Every time I tried to pull away, but the mark had already rewritten my body.
The second his pheromones got close, my walls warmed and softened, and fresh slick started to gather without permission.
I began avoiding him on purpose, refusing any moment alone.
By nightfall the deep, blood-level need still clawed at me until I felt half-mad.
Sophie went to bed early.
Victor said nothing. He simply took my hand and led me down to the rocks by the lake.
The night was deep. Water slapped steadily against the shore.
He bent me over the cold stone and pushed into me from behind.
This time he didn’t just take. He buried himself to the root and stayed there, voice low against my ear.
“If Sophie actually asks, what are you going to tell her?”
I shook my head, crying, unable to form words.
The bite on my nape still throbbed, but my body already knew the exact shape of him.
He didn’t force an answer. He simply gripped my hips and started fucking me deep and hard—pulling all the way out, then slamming back in until the thick head ground over the spot that made my legs shake.
Wet sounds, the slap of skin, and my own broken whimpers mixed in the quiet night.
“Squeeze.”
I obeyed. Pleasure hit fast and brutal. My knees started to give.
He gave me no rest—one hand working my swollen clit, the other pressing down on my lower back so I could only stay arched and take it.
Slick splattered with every thrust and ran down my thighs onto the rock.
“This greedy little cunt is sucking so hard. You want me to fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow, don’t you?”
“Yes… want you to fuck me until I can’t close my legs…” I pushed back onto him, taking him deeper. “Please… don’t stop…”
That was all it took.
He started pounding into me without mercy, every stroke aimed at the place that shattered me.
My eyes burned. Sweet, helpless moans slipped out no matter how hard I tried to hold them.
My hands locked on the edge of the rock. The pressure stacked too fast.
“If you want me to fuck you until you cry, then cry.”
I came with a broken sob, core convulsing hard enough to drag a low sound out of him. He didn’t stop.
He fucked me straight through the first orgasm and into the second, then the third, until tears wet a dark patch on the stone.
In the middle of it I turned my head seeking his mouth. He leaned down and kissed me, tongue sliding deep, swallowing every sound.
On the last climax he buried himself to the hilt and came.
Thick, scorching pulses flooded me. I shook hard and clenched around him on purpose, trying to keep every drop inside.
Afterward we lay still on the rock.
Night wind moved over us. The lake kept its steady rhythm.
Victor didn’t say “you’re mine.” He didn’t talk about the future.
He only rested his chin on my shoulder, voice so low the water almost covered it.
“We still have two days.”
I didn’t answer.
The mark had already locked my body into reacting to him. Sophie’s suspicion hung over us like a blade.
The fragile surface between the three of us still held, just barely.
No one spoke the truth.
No one left.
No one made the final choice.
In the dark and the sound of the lake, nothing was finished yet.