Alaric felt her go limp beneath him.
One second, she was a live wire, bucking and screaming. The next, she was just... gone. Out cold. A ragdoll whose strings had just been cut.
He pounded into her a few more times, just to be sure, but there was no response. Just the dead weight of her unconscious body.
He'd done it. He'd actually fucked her until she passed out.
A slow, wolfish grin of pure, sated satisfaction spread across his face. He pulled his cock out of her limp body with a wet, sucking sound. It was still rock hard, pulsing with leftover energy. He felt amazing. Energized. Like he could conquer the whole damn world right now.
He looked down at her. Eleanor. A broken doll in the dirt, her face slack, her mouth slightly open, still wearing the tattered, pathetic shreds of that "whore's costume." Her body was a map of his possession – red marks from his hands, maybe even a few bite marks he'd left in his excitement.
