Chapter 955. She Bought The Bunny Outfit As Well... Hilarious!
"You think you’re special, don’t you?" Rex asked, stepping toward her. "You think your... what...? Days of self-denial make you different from any other woman who catches my eye."
He shook his head slowly, the smirk playing on his lips cruel and knowing. "You’re not special, Iris."
"You’re just another victim of the same hunger..."
"You think you can ask for this like it’s some controlled experiment? Like you can taste the fire without getting burned?"
He crossed the distance between them in two long, unhurried strides. Iris held her ground, though every instinct she possessed screamed at her to bolt.
Her heartbeat was a hammer against her ribs, each pulse sending a wave of heat through her limbs.
"No one resists me," Rex murmured, stopping so close she could feel the furnace heat radiating from his body. "Not the strong ones, not the disciplined ones."
"They all think they can hold the line, that they can stare into the abyss without falling in..."
"But eventually, they always break. And you?"
"You didn’t just break, Iris... You shattered before I even touched you more."
"Come with me," he said, his voice dropping to a command that brooked no argument.
The walk to her quarters was a blur of sensory overload. The torchlight flickered against the stone walls like dying stars, and the cool night air felt like ice against her feverish skin.
When they reached her room, the darkness inside felt thick, almost tangible. Iris closed the door behind them, the click of the latch sounding unnervingly final.
She stood there for several heartbeats, her hand still pressed against the wood, feeling the terrifying vulnerability of having laid her soul bare. She had said the words.
Now, there was no retreating into the safety of her training or her discipline.
Rex did not move to touch her. He didn’t rush her.
He simply stood in the center of the dim room, a shadow wrapped in muscle, waiting. He gave her the space to choose her own destruction.
Iris felt the pull that inexorable, gravitational force he exerted on everything around him. Her mind screamed warnings: ’This is madness... This will ruin you...’
’This is not what you want.’ But her body was already responding, her cunt aching with a throbbing, insistent need that made her legs feel weak.
She moved toward him, her footsteps silent on the rug. When she finally reached him, she didn’t hesitate.
She reached out and grabbed his forearm, her fingers digging into his bicep with more force than she intended. Her grip was desperate, the white-knuckled grasp of someone who had been starving for three years and had finally found bread laced with poison.
She looked up at him, her eyes bright with a raw, terrifying honesty. The last of her defenses had crumbled, leaving only the naked truth of her craving.
"I want what she has," Iris whispered, her voice cracking but certain. "I want to know what it feels like to be owned like that..."
"To have you take everything... Just once, Rex."
"I want to know what it feels like to break."
Rex’s hand rose slowly, his calloused palm coming to rest along her jawline. For a moment, the predatory smirk vanished, replaced by something almost tender, a quiet gravity that made Iris’s breath catch.
It wasn’t a gentle touch born of kindness but the deliberate touch of a man who recognized the significance of a ritual. He wasn’t treating this as mere sport; he was treating it as a consecration of her surrender.
"This is the last debt," Rex said, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper that vibrated through her bones. "Before Veylor... and of course, before working to pull his soul."
"I do not want you walking into that conversation with him carrying anything unfinished on this side." His thumb traced the line of her lower lip, applying just enough pressure to make her whimper. "And I think, if I am honest with myself, that this has been unfinished between us for longer than either of us wanted to admit."
Iris looked up at him, and for the first time in three years, the screaming chaos in her chest didn’t feel like a wound. It felt like an opening.
The hollow ache that had defined her existence since Veylor’s death seemed to crystallize into a singular purpose.
"Then let’s finish it," she said, her voice gaining a sudden, fierce clarity. "No more pretending... and no more holding back."
She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him deeper into the swallowing darkness of her room. When the door clicked shut behind them, the world outside ceased to exist.
There was only the sound of their ragged breathing and the charged electricity crackling between their bodies.
Rex backed her against the door, his weight pressing her into the wood.
"Strip," he commanded, his eyes dark with an approaching hunger. "I want to see exactly what I’m breaking."
Iris’s hands trembled as she reached for the laces of her training tunic. But as she peeled away the layers of leather and linen, she reached beneath her bed, producing something she had purchased in secret, a gift to herself, a costume she had bought after watching Diana’s humiliation.
As she pulled it on, the black lace and silk stretched over her curves, complete with the ridiculous, provocative bunny ears that stood upright against her hair.
Rex froze. For three heartbeats, there was absolute silence.
Then, he threw his head back and laughed, a deep, booming sound that filled the small room.
"You too?" he roared, the sound rich with amusement and something far more dangerous. "You watched her, didn’t you?"
"You watched her wear that pathetic little thing, and you thought, ’I need that too. ’Oh my fucking lust, Iris, you really are beyond saving." His laughter died down into a hungry growl as he began to strip his own clothes off with violent efficiency. "Fine."
"If you want to play the rabbit, then I’ll be the wolf."
He threw her onto the bed, the mattress creaking under their combined weight. The tenderness from moments before was gone, incinerated by a sudden, brutal need.
His hands were everywhere tearing, bruising, claiming. When his mouth found hers, it wasn’t a kiss; it was a conquest.
"Rex—" Iris gasped as he flipped her over, her face pressed into the sheets, her hips lifted high in surrender. "Please... please, Rex."
"Please, what?" he growled against the sensitive skin of her nape, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "Tell me what you want, Iris."
"Don’t lie to me now."
"I want it all," she sobbed, her fingers clawing at the bedding. "I want you to take me like you took her."
"Don’t pull away... Don’t you dare pull away." Her voice broke into a desperate plea as she felt the heat of him pressing against her entrance. "I want you to cum inside me."
’I want to feel you fill me up until I can’t breathe..."
"I want to feel every drop of you inside my pussy, and don’t you dare cum outside..."
"Please, Rex, fill me... Make me yours."
"Careful what you beg for," Rex warned, though his own arousal was evident in the way his voice strained. "Because once I start, I’m not stopping until I’ve emptied every goddamn drop."
The night dissolved into a symphony of violence and ecstasy. The room echoed with the wet, rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh, the sound of bones creaking under the pressure of his overwhelming strength, and Iris’s unfiltered screams.
She didn’t muffle them this time. She screamed until her throat was raw, her body arching in agony and bliss as he drove himself into her with devastating force.
Rex gripped her hips so hard his fingerprints would surely leave bruises that lasted weeks, his entire body locking up as he unleashed a torrent of heat that seemed to go on forever.
Iris shrieked, her inner muscles clamping around him in desperate spasms as she felt the scalding flood filling her, stretching her, claiming her from the inside out.
"Yes! Aaaahhh!" she cried out as the waves of orgasm crashed over her. "More! Give me more!"