Chapter 1

The cabin door slammed hard enough to rattle the glass in the frames. Rain hammered the roof in a continuous roar.

Dimitri Voss shoved Elena forward by the nape of her neck until her hips struck the edge of the rough wooden bed, knocking the breath out of her in a sharp cry.

"Please…" Her voice cracked, raw from shouting in the car. "My father will pay. He swore on my mother's grave…"

"Your father is a corpse with a pulse." Dimitri's coat hit the floorboards with a wet slap. He was already hard, the thick outline straining against his trousers as he crowded her from behind, heat pouring off him like a furnace. "He offered you across a card table with blood on his teeth and coke in his nose. I accepted. Clothes off."

She twisted, wild. He caught both wrists in one hand and wrenched them high between her shoulder blades, forcing her chest down onto the mattress. The wool blanket scraped her cheek.

With his other hand he dragged her dress up over her ass, tore her panties to the side hard enough that the seam bit into her hip, and shoved two thick fingers straight into her cunt.

She was dry. The stretch burned. She yelped, body jerking.

"Tight little debtor's daughter," he muttered, working them in and out anyway, he was rough, with no patience for her body's refusal. "Beg louder. I want the trees to hear it."

"Stop..please, it hurts…Dimitri, don't…" she gasped

He scissored his fingers inside her, curling until she jerked and a broken sound tore out of her throat. "It'll hurt more when I fuck you raw. Unless you get wet for me." His thumb found her clit and rubbed hard, merciless circles. "Choose. Pain only, or pain that turns into something worse."

Elena's breath stuttered against the blanket. The burn dulled by degrees into something hotter, shameful, crawling up her spine. Her hips twitched against his hand despite every screaming instinct.

He laughed low and filthy, free hand yanking her hair so her back arched and her throat was bared to the cold cabin air.

"There she is." He pulled his fingers free, his fingers glistening now— and shoved them into her mouth. "Suck. Taste what your body already decided."

She did, gagging slightly, tasting salt and herself and the metallic edge of fear.

He freed his cock with a curse—heavy, veined, the head already leaking with precum—and lined up against her. One brutal thrust buried him halfway.

Elena screamed into the mattress. He didn't stop. He drove the rest of the way in until his hips slapped her ass and held there, grinding deep enough that she felt him in her stomach.

"Fuck. Perfect." He yelled pulling almost out and slammed home again. The bedframe screeched against the floor. "Take it. Every inch. This is the interest on your father's debt."

"Please..you.. too big.. I can't…" she stuttered gasping as he kept thrusting into her.

"You can." Another thrust. Another. The wet sound of her body giving way filled the cabin under the rain.

Pain bled into pressure, into a dark, unwanted spark that made her moan against her will. He heard it. His pace turned savage, fucking her like he owned every hole she had, like her begging was fuel.

"That's it. Moan for the man who bought you." His hand slid under her, pinching her clit in time with his strokes until her vision whited out at the edges.

"You're my slave now. My toy. I use you when I want, how I want, until there's nothing left of the girl who walked in here."

Elena's protests dissolved into broken sounds, half sobs, half moans—as pleasure knifed through the violation. Her cunt clenched around him in helpless flutters. He groaned, fucking her harder, balls slapping, the headboard slamming the wall in a brutal rhythm.

"Come on my cock," he ordered, voice rough gravel. "Now. Don't make me repeat it."

She shattered with a cry that didn't sound like her own, walls spasming, soaking him. Dimitri buried himself to the root and came with a guttural snarl, flooding her, pulse after thick pulse, marking her from the inside while thunder cracked overhead.

He stayed buried, breathing hard against her neck, still hard enough to keep her stretched open.

Outside, the storm screamed. Inside, Elena trembled under him, ruined and claimed, the first night of her new life already written in sweat and cum on cabin sheets.

Then his phone buzzed on the floor.

He pulled out of her slowly, a wet drag that made her whimper, and answered without looking away from the mess he'd made of her. His face changed as he listened—something cold and sharp sliding into place behind his eyes.

"How many?" he said in Russian with a pause. "They're early." Another pause. He hung up, tossed the phone aside, and looked down at Elena like she had just become a liability and a weapon at the same time.

"Get dressed enough to run if I tell you," he said quietly. "We have company coming through the trees. And if they reach this door before I do… they won't be nearly as gentle as I was."