⚠️ NSFW Warning – Mature Content
This chapter contains explicit scenes, emotional manipulation, and toxic power dynamics. Reader discretion advised.
This scene isn't about romance. It's about obsession, control, and the emptiness that comes when two people try to use each other to forget someone else.
Neither of them is whole. Either weaponizes sex to fill a void that only grows deeper.
–CG Blaire
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Alaric slammed the door behind him as he left Seraphina's chambers, the note still crushed in his fist. He had half a mind to ride after her, storm the D'Lorien estate, and take what he thought he was owed. But the thought of enduring the hour-long carriage ride, stiff and hard from the tonic already burning in his veins, only made his frustration worse. He needed release now, not later.
Evelyne's estate was closer. Convenient. And she was always ready.
He turned on his heel and headed there instead. His head pounded. His whole body burned with need and frustration. He'd taken a tonic in preparation for the night. And now she was gone.
She hadn't even said goodbye.
When he reached Evelyne's room, he didn't knock. He opened the door like he owned it.
Evelyne was stretched out on the bed, robe open over her legs, her hair loose around her shoulders. She raised an eyebrow when she saw his face.
"You're early," she said, pushing herself up on her elbows.
"She left," he said, his voice flat. "I need to get it out of my system."
Evelyne stood without asking questions. "Then take it out on me."
She walked to him, letting her robe slide off. She didn't bother with teasing. He wasn't in the mood for anything slow or tender. No teasing, no affection, no buildup. He needed something hard, fast, and immediate.
He grabbed her by the waist and kissed her. It was rough, messy, all tongue and teeth. She grunted when her back hit the wall. He yanked her toward the bed, hands on her ass, pulling her close.
"Get on the bed," he ordered.
She did, crawling onto the bed and glancing over her shoulder. "Like this?" she asked, voice breathy but steady.
"Exactly like that," he said through clenched teeth, kicking off the last of his clothes.
He shoved her onto her stomach and spread her thighs. He didn't speak. Didn't hesitate. His cock was already hard and aching, and he wasn't in the mood for anything drawn out. He lined himself up and shoved into her in one rough, unforgiving thrust. She gasped, her body tightening around him, but he didn't wait. He grabbed her hips and drove into her again, and again, each stroke harder than the last.
She cried out, loud and breathless. "Yes, fuck,just like that," she gasped. Her hands clawed at the sheets as he slammed into her again. "Harder, Alaric,don't stop."
Her muscles clenched around him, and she came hard, her voice breaking. The release hit fast, dragged out of her by his rhythm and force. Her hips jerked, her back arched, and she moaned his name like it was the only thing anchoring her. That only pushed him further.
He didn't slow down. The heat in his veins demanded more , more friction, more sound, more surrender. "You take it so fucking well," he muttered, voice ragged. "You know what I need. Always have." Her skin was slick, her moans broken and sharp. He moved with a single goal: release. "Look at you," he growled. "So fucking eager. So ready to be filled." He felt her come again, quick and helpless, her body spasming beneath him. "That's it. Give me everything."
When he came, it was sharp and blinding. He held her down as he emptied into her, groaning with the effort. But the fire didn't leave him.
It wasn't enough.
So he kept going.
She screamed. He was thick, rough, deep.
His hands gripped her hips so hard she knew there'd be bruises. He was fucking her like he wanted to break something. She rocked back against him anyway, bracing herself on the mattress.
"Harder," she told him. "Don't hold back."
He didn't.
He slammed into her harder. Her body clamped around him. It felt good. Physical. Intense. He wasn't thinking about anything except the rhythm, the grip, the pressure.
He flipped her over. "On your back. I want to see you fall apart," he said, lifting her legs onto his shoulders and driving into her again. He watched her face twist as she moaned.
But it wasn't her.
It wasn't Seraphina.
Still, he didn't stop.
He bent her over the edge of the bed. Took her on her side. Made her ride him until she collapsed.
He bit her shoulder. Pulled her hair. "Mine tonight," he hissed into her ear. "You feel that? That's what you'll remember when you're alone."
She didn't stop him. She welcomed it.
Every thrust, every scratch, every grip , it reminded her she was the one here. She was the one he touched now. She was the one getting all of him.
He used her over and over, but she let him. Wanted him to.
She moaned his name until her voice broke. "You want this?" she rasped, dragging her nails down his back. "You need this, don't you?"
He grunted in response, a low, animal sound.
"Then take it," she growled. "Take all of it."
He collapsed beside her, both of them soaked in sweat.
His body was spent. His mind wasn't.
She was still gone.
She turned toward him. Her legs ached. Her body felt used in the best way.
"You still not satisfied?" she asked, brushing her fingers down his chest.
He didn't answer. Instead, he grunted, eyes heavy. "No. Not even close."
She leaned down and kissed his chest, then lower, dragging her tongue over one nipple, then the other. He tensed beneath her, a low sound vibrating in his throat.
"You like that?" she murmured.
He hissed, nodding. "Fuck, Evelyne…"
She kissed down his abdomen, lips teasing, mouth open and warm. She licked along the base of his cock, slow and wet. He was fully hard again. When her lips wrapped around the tip and sucked once, he gasped.
Just as his hips lifted, she pulled away.
His eyes flew open in protest.
"Not yet," she whispered. "You're not getting it that easy."
She straddled him and sank down with one motion, making them both moan. She didn't wait. She started to move, hard and fast.
"This what you need?" she panted, riding him without pause. "Forget her. Look at me."
He did. He couldn't not.
She gave him everything , rough, relentless. Until he was gripping her thighs, cursing under his breath.
When he came, it was with her name caught between his teeth.
Not Seraphina's.
Just hers.
For once.
He closed his eyes. His heart was still racing, but the sharp edge of his release was already fading. And yet, even as Evelyne moved above him, his mind slipped elsewhere. Seraphina's face. Seraphina's voice. The way she looked at him once,before the distance, before the silence.
He let Evelyne ride him, let her use every angle and motion that used to drive him wild. But his thoughts were with someone else. Someone who had left without saying goodbye.
She saw it in his face. The way his eyes stopped focusing on her. The shift in his breathing. The subtle pull of his mouth.
He wasn't with her. Not really.
But she didn't stop. Didn't slow. She ground her hips harder, faster, making sure he felt every inch of her, making sure he knew what he had in front of him.
"You're here," she whispered. "With me."
He didn't respond. Not with words. But he grabbed her hips tighter, thrust upward, meeting her rhythm with force that bordered on desperation.
She leaned in close, her lips brushing his ear. "You always come back to me," she whispered. "Doesn't matter who you're thinking about. I'm the one in your bed."
His breath caught. The sound he made wasn't just lust — it was frustration, maybe even surrender.
She kissed him hard, tongue claiming his mouth, demanding his attention. She wanted to take over everything he was feeling — overwrite her.
He groaned her name into the kiss.
And for a moment, it was almost enough.
She felt it in the way his body moved with hers, in the way he clung to her thighs. He needed this. Needed her.
Maybe he would always chase a ghost.
But right now, he was hers.
And that was something she could hold onto.
For now, it would do.