Chapter 137: I Didn’t Know Evolution came with Masochistic Tendencies *

The gym was empty when Silas pushed through the door.

Dawn light bled through the tall windows, pale and gray, casting long shadows across the racks of weights and the polished wooden floor. The air smelled of rubber mats and cleaned metal, that sterile pre-dawn stillness that made every footfall echo.

He hadn’t been able to sleep.

His body was exhausted, as much as he hated to admit it. The battle, the coronation, the portal, the sheer weight of everything that had happened in the past day had exhausted him, but his mind refused to quiet.

So he made his way to the estate’s private gym, hoping that physical exhaustion would succeed where mental stillness had failed. The system had done its part. He was halfway through his first set of pull-ups when the door opened.

The creak of the hinge was soft, almost hesitant. Silas dropped from the bar, landing on his feet, and turned.

Gromda stood in the doorway.

She was drenched in sweat, her white hair plastered to her forehead and neck, her breath coming in deep, heaving pulls. She wore only a loose pair of shorts and a thin sports bra that clung to her skin like a second layer, soaked through, the fabric translucent with moisture.

Her tattoos were glowing.

The crimson runes that lay dormant beneath her skin pulsed with a bright glow. They crawled up her arms, across her collarbones, down her stomach, branching like veins of phosphorescent light.

And her eyes.

Her eyes were glowing green, luminous, and fever-bright, fixed on him with an intensity that made his breath catch. She was blushing.

Deep crimson spread across her cheeks and down her neck, pooling at her collarbones where the runes flickered and danced. She looked torn between embarrassment and hunger, like she hadn’t meant to come here but couldn’t stop herself.

"Gromda?"

She didn’t answer. She crossed the gym floor in three long strides, her bare feet slapping against the floor, and before he could ask again, her hands were on him.

She shoved him backward.

His back hit the padded bench behind him, the impact jarring, and she followed him down, her knees landing on either side of his hips, her weight pinning him to the bench. Her hands found his shoulders, gripping hard enough to bruise, and she leaned in close, her forehead pressing against his, her breath hot and ragged.

"I couldn’t-" She stopped. Swallowed. Tried again. "I couldn’t stop thinking about it."

"Thinking about what?"

Her hips rolled against him, a single desperate grind, and he felt how ready she was, the heat of her through the thin fabric of her shorts, the slickness that had already soaked through.

"The way you looked. When you spoke to them. When you named every chief, every tribe, every position." Her voice cracked. "The way they knelt for you. The way I wanted to kneel for you."

Silas’s hands found her hips, his fingers pressing into the slick skin above her waistband. "So you came to find me at dawn."

"I ran. Around the entire estate." She laughed, a broken, breathless sound. "I ran until my legs gave out. And then I came here."

"Because... Because I needed you to..." She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. "I need you to hurt me."

The words hung between them, raw and vulnerable and utterly unexpected.

Silas’s hands tightened on her hips. "Say that again."

"I need you to hurt me." Her green eyes burned into his. "I need to feel something real. Something that matches what’s inside me. I feel like I’m going to tear apart if I don’t- if you don’t-"

He kissed her before she could finish.

It wasn’t gentle. It was all teeth and hunger, his hand fisting in her wet hair, pulling her head back as his mouth claimed hers. She moaned into him, a desperate, animal sound, and her hips ground against him harder, chasing friction, chasing pressure, chasing anything he would give her.

He broke the kiss, breathing hard.

"Turn around."

She scrambled off him, turning, and he grabbed her by the hips and bent her over the nearest weight bench. Her palms hit the padded surface, her back arching, her ass pressing against him as he yanked her shorts down past her thighs.

She wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

She was already slick and swollen, her folds glistening with evidence of how much she wanted this. He didn’t take time to admire. He lined himself up and drove into her in a single, brutal stroke.

Gromda’s scream echoed through the empty gym.

Her body arched, her back bowing, her hands scrabbling for grip on the bench as he filled her completely. She was so tight and hot, her walls clenching around him like a fist, and the sound she made was a guttural, broken cry that sent a jolt of heat straight through him.

"More," she gasped. "More, Silas, please-"

He gave her more.

He pulled out and thrust back in, harder, faster, the sound of their bodies meeting echoing off the walls. His hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, and he could feel her runes pulsing against his palms, hot and electric.

She was taking everything he gave her and begging for more.

"Harder," she demanded, her voice raw. "Harder, please, I can take it!"

He slammed into her, driving her forward across the bench, her breasts pressing into the padded surface. She cried out, a wordless sound of pain and pleasure, and her hand flew back, grabbing his, pulling it forward.

"Here." She guided his hand to her throat. "Pull."

His fingers wrapped around her neck, not tight enough to cut off air, but firm, present, a reminder of who was in control. She moaned at the pressure, her hips pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts with desperate hunger.

"Like that," she breathed. "Like that, yes~!"

He fucked her harder, his hand on her throat, his other hand gripping her hip hard enough to leave bruises. The bench creaked beneath them, the sound loud in the empty gym, and she was moaning without restraint or shame, her voice raw and wrecked.

She was close. He could feel it in the way her walls fluttered around him, in the way her breath came in sharp, broken gasps.

But he wasn’t ready to let her fall. He pulled out.

She whined at the loss, her hips chasing him, but he grabbed her, spun her around, and sat her on the bench. Her legs spread automatically, her chest heaving, her green eyes blazing up at him.

"Please," she whispered.

He didn’t answer. He stepped closer, grabbed her hips, and drove into her again.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, her arms looping around his neck as he fucked her standing, the bench scraping against the floor with every thrust. Her head fell back, her throat exposed, and he leaned down and bit the junction of her neck and shoulder.

She screamed.

A sharp, high sound that dissolved into a moan as he bit harder, his teeth sinking into her skin, tasting salt and sweat and something electric that hummed across his tongue. Her nails dug into his back, raking down his spine, leaving burning lines in their wake.

"Harder," she gasped. "More. I need more."

He pulled back, looking at her.

"I didn’t know evolution came with masochistic tendencies."

She laughed, wild and broken, her hips grinding against him. "Neither did I. But I need... I need you to-"

"I know what you need."

He lifted her off the bench, her legs still wrapped around him, and carried her to the squat rack. He set her on the padded support, the cold metal pressing against her back, and positioned himself between her thighs.

"Hold onto the bar."

She reached up, her hands gripping the rack above her, and he drove into her again, the new angle pushing deeper, hitting something that made her eyes roll back. Though their heights and sizes were in stark contrast, the difference was almost nonexistent here.

"Fuck~ Silas~!"

He fucked her against the rack, each thrust driving her into the cold metal, the rhythm relentless and punishing. She was taking everything and begging for more, her body a temple of need and surrender.

Her eyes fluttered, her grip slipping, and he saw the exhausted green glow threatening to fade. So he reached forward, grabbed her jaw, and forced her gaze up to his.

"Stay with me."

Her pupils dilated. Her breath caught.

"Yes."

The word was a vow.

He released her jaw, and she clung to the bar, her legs locking tightly around him as he drove himself deeper. Her moans echoed through the empty gym, raw and unguarded.

"Harder," she breathed. "Break me."

Her words sent a shudder through him, the kind that pooled heat low in his gut and made his rhythm falter before it sharpened into something fiercer. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her hips flush against his and fucking her with short, punishing thrusts that drove her wild. Her head thrashed, her white hair flying, and he kissed her — bit her lip, sucked the taste of her off his tongue.

"Don’t you dare hold back," he said against her mouth.

"Never," she gasped. "Never again."

One of her hands flew from the bar, clawing at his back hard enough to draw blood. The sting only fed his rhythm, made him piston faster into her, the sound of their bodies slapping together bouncing off the walls with no one to hear but them.

Her walls started fluttering, clenching, a tell she couldn’t hide.

"I’m~ I’m close~!"

"Then come."

The permission was all she needed. Her body seized, her back arching off the metal rack, a scream torn from her throat as she shattered around him. She pulsed and throbbed against his cock, her release flooding hot and slick, and the feeling of her climax triggered his own.

He buried himself deep, his forehead pressed to hers, and came with a groan that was half-exhaustion, half-relief, spilling into her in long, shuddering waves.

They stayed like that for a long moment, tangled together against the rack, their breathing loud in the silent gym.

The dawn light had shifted, growing brighter, warming the space around them.

Gromda’s legs loosened from around his waist, sliding down until her feet touched the floor. She was trembling, her runes fading from green back to their resting crimson, her eyes returning to their natural gold.

She looked at him, her cheeks still flushed, her lips swollen, her hair a wreck.

"That was..."

"Exactly what you needed?"

She nodded, a small, sheepish smile tugging at her lips.

"Thank you."

He kissed her forehead, soft and tender, a stark contrast to everything that had come before.

"Anytime."

She laughed, leaning into him, her head resting against his chest.

"I might hold you to that."