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“It kills you how badly you want me. How much you love me despite knowing it’s wrong. How badly you want to fuck the enemy.” That’s what this is about.

In a blink he charges at me and twists me around, and I rest my hands on the tree—begging for it.

“If I punished you the way I want to, you’d be dead,” he growls in my ear.

Guilt utterly consumes me. “Just do it then, why are you keeping me alive? I’m the one who killed her.”

He fiddles with his belt, unzipping his pants. “You didn’t kill her, Layla. You murdered her. There is a big fucking difference.”

My head spins at his words. It was an accident.

I tilt my head, digging my nails into the heavy bark. “Do it,” I pant.

He grabs my hips, pressing himself into me, then pauses. “What is wrong with you?” he asks me, gathering my hair and yanking my head back, twisting me in some ungodly position. “Do you crave death and destruction?”

I hiss at the pain. Every tug, every pull, provides a sense of relief I don’t deserve. Like a second skin shedding itself…finally giving in to the punishment for what I did so I can repent.

“Do you want me to punish you, wildling?” he growls, moving his hand down my side. “Is that what you want, baby?”

I moan in response.

“Tell me you want it.”

I strangle down a breath. “Yes. I want it.”

He grips my sweats and yanks them down taking my underwear with it, leaving my cunt bare and cold, and slightly dripping. He teases the entrance of my ass, before slapping me so hard my forehead hits the tree in front of me.

I let out a cry and place my hands above my head, stabilizing myself, but I don’t move. He slaps me again, this time a wave of pleasure pulses through me. They each get progressively harder. There is no way my ass won’t come out black and blue. After the third time, he pulls me around to face him again.

He whips his cock out, shoving me to my knees and slaps my face with it. “Goddamn it, Layla. What the fuck are you doing to me?”

I meet his gaze and open my mouth, sticking my tongue out like a dirty whore. He grabs the back of my head and slams his dick into my mouth…again and again until I choke on it. I take every inch—licking and sucking until my eyes water. He thrusts relentlessly until he can’t take it anymore, his body trembling as he spills hot liquid into the back of my throat. Everything about this is quick, dirty, and utterly humiliating, yet incredibly satisfying in how quickly I got him off. Still on the ground, I silently beg for more. I need more…which he happily obliges.

“Fuck,” he says, sliding his cock up my cheek—almost tenderly. “You’re such a good girl, Layla. You take my cock so well.”

My lips tremble. “I’m not a good girl. I’m a bad girl that needs to be punished.”

The emotion in his eyes bore into my soul. His jaw ticks. “You fucking killed her.”

“I know,” I choke out. The pressure in my neck is too much. “I’m sorry I killed Natalie.”

A raging silence. “You’re sorry?”

“Yeah,” I pant. “I’m so sorry, baby.” Why the fuck am I calling him that?

He reaches his hand around my head, covering my mouth and nose, stealing any chance to fill my lungs with air. “Don’t say her fucking name. It’s bad enough you’re wearing her clothes, but don’t disgrace her by uttering her name.”

He’s not done, and neither am I. He slaps my ass again. This time my pussy pulses and liquid squirts out. His energy shifts beneath me.

“Again,” I demand. “Do it again.”

He leans in, pulling me into him. Except this time his hands are softer, and he fondles my breasts. “Does it make you feel better, wildling?”

“Yeah,” I breathe.

“It doesn’t change what you are.”

“I know,” I tell him. “Just do it again.”