The Shadow of Her Skin (EP. 1)
In the grimy underbelly of a city that never sleeps, Viktor Blackthorne prowled the streets like a predator with a wound that wouldn't heal. He was a man carved from jagged edges—tall, broad-shouldered, with ink snaking up his thick arms and a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. His eyes, a stormy gray, burned with something feral, something dangerous. And all of it was because of her—Lila Voss. A woman who didn't even know his name, but owned every fucking inch of his soul.
Lila worked at a dive bar on the edge of town, pouring cheap whiskey for drunks and degenerates. She was a vision in torn fishnets and a tight black tank top that clung to her perky tits like a second skin. Her hair, a wild cascade of raven curls, framed a face that could stop traffic—plump lips always painted cherry red, eyes dark and unreadable. Viktor had been watching her for months, sitting in the shadowed corner of the bar, nursing a beer he never drank, his cock throbbing painfully in his jeans every time she bent over to grab a bottle, her round ass teasing him through her denim shorts.
He was obsessed. Fucking deranged with it. Every night, he'd go home to his shitty apartment and jerk off to the thought of her—imagining her tight little pussy wrapped around his thick, veiny dick, her moans echoing in his ears as he pounded her into the mattress. "Fuck, Lila," he'd growl to himself, fisting his cock harder, pre-cum dribbling down his knuckles. "You're mine, you hear me? Ain't no one else gonna touch that sweet cunt. I'll kill any bastard who tries."
Tonight, though, was different. Viktor couldn't take the distance anymore. He needed her closer, needed to smell the sweat on her skin, taste the salt of her neck. He waited until her shift ended, until she stepped out into the alley behind the bar for a smoke. The air was thick with the stench of garbage and cheap perfume, but all he could focus on was her—leaning against the brick wall, cigarette between her fingers, her lips pursing around it in a way that made his balls ache.
"Nice night," he rasped, stepping out of the shadows, his voice low and gravelly. She didn't flinch, just flicked her eyes to him, unimpressed. "You always creep around back alleys, or am I just lucky?" she shot back, her tone dripping with sarcasm. That mouth. Fuck, he wanted to shove his cock in it, make her choke on every inch until she was begging for mercy.
"You got no idea how lucky you are, sweetheart," he said, stepping closer, his boots crunching on the gravel. He towered over her, his shadow swallowing her whole. "Been watchin' you for a long time. Can't get you outta my head. That tight little body, those fuckin' lips—I'm gonna make you mine, Lila. Whether you want it or not."
Her eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of something—fear, maybe, or curiosity. She took a drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke right in his face. "You're outta your damn mind," she said, but her voice wavered just enough to betray her. Viktor grinned, a predator's smile, and closed the gap between them, pinning her against the wall with his massive frame. His hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into her soft flesh through her shorts.
"Feel that?" he growled, grinding his rock-hard erection against her thigh, the bulge in his jeans unmistakable. "That's what you do to me, baby. Every fuckin' day. I'm gonna split that pretty pussy open, make you scream my name 'til your throat's raw. You don't get to walk away from me."
Lila's breath hitched, her chest heaving under that tight tank top, her nipples hardening against the fabric. She should've pushed him away, should've screamed, but there was a heat in her eyes now, a dark hunger that matched his own. "You're a sick fuck," she spat, but her hands were on his chest, not pushing, just feeling the hard muscle under his shirt.
"Damn right I am," he snarled, crashing his mouth against hers. The kiss was brutal, all teeth and tongue, tasting the nicotine and whiskey on her lips.
He shoved a hand under her tank top, groping her tit, squeezing the soft mound until she gasped into his mouth. His thumb flicked over her stiff nipple, rolling it roughly while his other hand yanked at the button of her shorts. "Gonna fuck you right here, Lila. Right in this filthy alley. You're gonna take every inch of my fat cock, and you're gonna love it."
Her shorts hit the ground with a thud, revealing a scrap of black lace barely covering her pussy. Viktor groaned, a deep, guttural sound, as he shoved the fabric aside and ran his thick fingers along her slit. She was already wet, slick and hot, her folds parting for him like they'd been waiting. "Fuckin' hell, you're soaked," he muttered, pushing two fingers inside her, stretching her tight hole. "This cunt's been waitin' for me, hasn't it? Tell me, slut. Tell me you want my dick buried in you."
She bit her lip, a moan slipping out as he pumped his fingers deeper, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside her. "Ahh, fuck," she whimpered, her hips bucking against his hand. "You're such a bastard… just—just do it already."
That was all he needed. Viktor yanked his jeans down just enough to free his cock, the thick, pulsing shaft springing out, the head already glistening with pre-cum. It was a monster, nine inches of raw, veiny meat, and he slapped it against her pussy, the wet *smack* echoing in the alley. "Look at that," he growled, rubbing the tip along her clit, making her twitch. "Gonna wreck this little hole, baby. Gonna fuck you so deep you'll feel me for days."
He didn't wait for her to brace herself. Grabbing her thighs, he hoisted her up against the wall, her legs wrapping around his waist as he positioned himself at her entrance. With one brutal thrust, he buried himself inside her, her tight walls clamping down around him like a vice. "Fuuuuck," he roared, the heat of her pussy driving him insane. "So goddamn tight. You feel that, Lila? That's my cock ownin' you."
She cried out, a sharp, desperate sound—half pain, half pleasure—as he started to move, pounding into her with ruthless force. Each thrust was deep, deliberate, his hips slamming against hers with a wet *slap-slap-slap*. Her tits bounced under her top, and he ripped the fabric up to expose them, sucking one hard nipple into his mouth while he fucked her senseless. "Scream for me, bitch," he growled against her skin, biting down on the sensitive bud. "Let everyone hear who fuckin' owns this pussy."
"Ahh! Viktor, oh fuck, it's too much!" she wailed, her nails clawing at his shoulders, her body trembling as he drove into her harder, faster. Her pussy was dripping now, juices running down his shaft, coating his balls with every thrust. The smell of sex and sweat filled the air, raw and primal, and he couldn't get enough of it. He wanted to mark her, claim her, make sure no other man would ever dare touch what was his.
"You're mine," he snarled, his voice a low rumble as he felt her walls start to flutter around him, her orgasm building. "This cunt, this body, this fuckin' soul—it's all mine. Cum for me, Lila. Cum on my cock like the dirty little whore you are."
Her scream shattered the night, her pussy clenching down so hard it nearly pushed him over the edge. He kept fucking her through it, relentless, drawing out her pleasure until she was a sobbing, shaking mess in his arms. Only then did he let himself go, slamming into her one last time before spilling his load deep inside her, hot ropes of cum flooding her womb. "Take it all, baby," he grunted, his cock twitching as he emptied himself. "Every fuckin' drop. You're branded now."
They stayed like that for a long moment, panting, sweaty, his dick still buried in her as cum dripped down her thighs. Viktor's grip on her didn't loosen, though. He wasn't done. Not by a long shot. "We're just gettin' started, sweetheart," he whispered, his lips curling into a dark, possessive smirk. "I'm gonna fuck you 'til you can't walk, 'til you can't think of anything but me. You stole my heart, Lila. Now I'm takin' everything you got."
Her eyes met his, wide and hazy, and for the first time, he saw something like surrender in them. But he didn't care if she fought or gave in. She was his. And he'd spend every damn night proving it, one filthy, brutal fuck at a time.