The mirror shakes under the force of his body slamming into mine, the cold glass biting into my fevered skin. My reflection stares back at me—wide, desperate eyes, lips swollen and parted, every inch of me wrecked beyond recognition. But I’m not alone in the mirror.

He’s there too.

Towering over me. Consuming me. Ruining me.

His grip is ruthless, bruising, fingers digging into my hips so hard I know I’ll be wearing his marks for days. A reminder. A claim. A brand.

"Look at you," he growls, his voice thick with raw, dark hunger. "My pretty little slut. All spread out for me, dripping down your fucking thighs."

I try to turn away, but his hand fists in my hair, yanking my head back with a vicious tug until my eyes lock onto our reflection.

"Where the fuck do you think you’re looking?" His voice is a snarl against my ear, sharp teeth scraping my throat before he bites down, hard enough to make me yelp. "You watch yourself, little writer. Watch how fucking ruined you are."

My hands claw at the mirror, searching for something, anything, to hold onto, but there’s no escape.

There never was.

A broken cry rips from my lips as he lands a brutal slap to my ass, the sting searing through my body. I jolt, but he only chuckles darkly, his grip tightening around my throat.

"You like that, don’t you? You fucking love it when I hurt you." He taunts, his other hand trailing down, fingers spreading me open as his cock drags through my slick folds. "So fucking wet. You were made for this. Made to take my cock—made to be my filthy little slut."

And then he shoves inside.

The air leaves my lungs in a choked moan, my body stretching to take him, struggling against the sheer force of it. There’s no hesitation. No patience. No mercy.

Just brutal, punishing thrusts that slam me against the glass, knocking the breath from my chest with every snap of his hips.

The mirror trembles, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room, obscene and filthy.

"You feel that?" he snarls, his fingers bruising my throat as he forces my gaze to stay locked onto our reflection. "That’s me, fucking you open. Splitting you apart. Making sure you’ll never forget who you fucking belong to."

I whimper, my body betraying me, clenching around him, dragging him deeper. My reflection is a mess of flushed cheeks, glassy eyes, and parted lips that can only moan his name.

"That’s it," he growls, his movements turning savage, relentless. "Take it. Fucking take every inch like the perfect little whore you are."

My legs shake, my body coiling tight, teetering on the edge of something devastating.

"You gonna come for me?" His voice is a low rasp, breath hot against my ear. "Gonna soak my cock like a desperate little slut?"

A helpless sob catches in my throat.

"Fucking do it," he orders, his thrusts turning punishing, feral. "Come. Make a fucking mess. Show me who owns this pussy."

And then I break.

I scream his name as pleasure crashes through me, violent and all-consuming, my body convulsing, shuddering, unraveling against him. But he doesn’t stop.

Doesn’t slow.

He fucks me through it, chasing his own high, using me until there’s nothing left—until I’m nothing but a trembling, wrecked mess in his hands.

The last thing I hear before I black out is his voice, low and possessive, a brutal whisper against my ear—

"Mine."

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So... tell me, did that send shivers down your spine? Or did it make your heart (and other things) race? 👀 Let me know your thoughts—I’m dying to hear what you think about this sinful beginning. Comment below! 🖤🔥