Krieek.
The heavy wooden door of the hotel room slowly slid open. Holding Thalia in his arms, his large hand still possessively gripping the soft curve of her thigh, Cruxius stepped inside. A dark smirk tugged at his lips as he watched the wide, trembling eyes of the girl clutched helplessly to his hard chest.
Her gaze flicked panicked across the room—the one she had wrecked earlier. Expensive curtains torn, bed sheets violently ruined, furniture askew—enough physical damage to make the luxury 5-star rating drop straight to the gutter.
"No—I-I will call the police if you—" Her soft voice stammered, grasping onto a desperate, false hope, her eyes darting up to his chiseled jaw. But it was pouring over her like hot water, the terrifying realization that her body was once again going to be completely at his mercy. Cruxius held her firmly, his sheer strength undeniable as he walked purposefully toward the massive bed.
