Ezra’s POV
She comes out without a word. Hair damp. Skin flushed from the shower. Her eyes meet mine and don’t waver. No fear. No demand.
She gets in the car when I tap the door. No questions. She knows better by now. The drive is quiet. Trees close in around us, the road narrowing into shadow.
Leia doesn’t ask where we’re going. She knows it doesn’t matter. She chose to get in. And I plan to show her what that choice means.
When I turn onto the unmarked path, her breath changes. Not sharp, but I feel the spike in her pulse from where I sit. She keeps her hands still in her lap.
Keeps her mouth shut, that’s not silence, that’s submission. We stop at the edge of the woods, the fire pit’s old, and overgrown. Long abandoned, not by me. I step out and light the flame.
One flick, no hesitation. It catches fast. She watches from behind, arms wrapped around herself, like she already knows what’s next.
I open the back of the car and take out the brand. Iron, smooth and sharp, shaped into a clean, curved E, simple, permanent, and mine. When she sees it, her breath catches. Her pupils dilate, she doesn’t speak, not needing to.
I turn to her and sign slowly, Lesson Three: stillness through pain.
She watches my hands, her lips parting just slightly. She doesn’t move when I step toward her. Doesn’t pull back when I take her wrist. Her skin is warm, her pulse erratic.
Leia lets me guide her to the stone and lowers herself without a word.
Her knees spread slightly for balance, her skirt rising just enough to tease. Her eyes flick from the fire to the glowing metal. Her chest rises, then falls.
She’s not calm, she’s surrendering. Her silence screams it.
I push her jacket off her shoulders, she lets it slide to the dirt. No resistance, just her, waiting. Her body’s already responding, back arched subtly, thighs tense, lips parted.
I kneel in front of her and take my time with her waistband. Inch by inch, I lower it, revealing the smooth curve of her hip. She’s trembling, but not from the cold.
Her breath is hot, shaky, and wanting.
The morning air bites at her skin, but the space between us radiates heat. Her skin flushes beneath my stare, her nipples pressing through her shirt.
She’s waiting for pain, but her body is already aching for something else. The brand glows orange, pulsing with heat, angry and ready.
She shakes once, barely. Then she stills. I press it to her.
The hiss slices through the trees. Her scream rips from her throat, raw, guttural. Her body jerks hard against the stone. But even as the pain tears her apart, her thighs quiver, her spine arches, and her moan follows fast and filthy, right behind the cry.
It’s not just a reaction. It’s a release. Her head drops back, her mouth falls open. Her hands dig into the dirt like she’s holding on for her life. Her legs spread wider, hips bucking up into the contact, into the pain, into me.
The orgasm hits her like a wave, brutal and wet, her pussy clenching around nothing as she gasps, broken and breathless. Her moans are unrestrained, probably filthy, beautiful.
Fuck, I would give anything. I would kill anyone just to hear it even for once.
Leia doesn’t stop shaking, doesn’t stop coming. The pain split her open, and the pleasure flooded in right behind it.
She’s coming for me, from me, branded and undone. And it’s the most honest thing she’s ever given me.