Chapter Three: Dahlia

Flora’s POV

His face was still shadowed, half-lit by the faint glow of a bedside lamp, but his features towered above me, sharp, commanding, and dangerous. His grip was bruising, his presence dominating. I tried to speak, to pull away, but my body acted on its own, arching and responding to his touch.

“Dahlia,” he growled, his voice deep and gravelly.

The name jarred me, foreign yet suddenly familiar. Dahlia. That was who I was now—or rather, who she was.

I flinched, trying to regain control of myself, but every move I made seemed driven by her instincts, not mine. Her life, her reality, was bleeding into mine, pulling me under.

His hands tightened on my wrists, pinning them above my head as he leaned closer, his breath warm against my neck. “You’ve been distracted tonight,” he murmured, his tone low but menacing. “Don’t make me regret choosing you.”

I could feel his cock hardening even more inside me. My stomach fluttered, and I wasn’t sure if it was from fear or something else entirely. “Choosing me? Who exactly was Dahlia?”

Seeing the look on his face, flushed with need and determination, a pang of guilt ran through me. This wasn’t just any moment for him either and I needed to play along too. I swallowed hard and whispered, “I’m sorry. I will be more focused.”

His brows furrowed, and he shook his head. “You better, little one. You wouldn’t want to annoy me,” he muttered, almost to himself. His voice was tinged with something darker, more primal. “And I must say, even virgins don't act like this....too scared”

The words confused me, but before I could ask him what he meant, he pushed deeper. The sudden intrusion tore a gasp from my lips. It was no longer uncomfortable—it was pain, sharp and blinding. “Stop,” I whimpered, grabbing onto his arms as the ache intensified.

The man gritted his teeth, the conflict evident in his eyes. He was struggling to hold back, to slow down, but I could see how much it was costing him. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he forced himself to still inside me, his breathing ragged. He was trying so hard to be gentle, to be considerate, and that somehow made me feel worse.

“I can’t,” I whispered, pleading, “please pull out.”

He gave me a tight, bitter smile but didn’t move right away. His body hovered over mine, tense and controlled, as though he was waiting for the strength to leave. Eventually, he shifted, slowly withdrawing, and I exhaled a shaky breath.

As I looked up at him, his face slick with sweat and his muscles trembling from restraint, an odd thought crossed my mind. If it had been Dahlia—the original owner of this body, would she have endured all of these? Would she probably take control and grant him his desires? I wasn’t supposed to ruin things starting from my first day in her body. I could figure out things clearly from tonight if I played my cards well.

I sat upright, ready to take action, but the stranger didn’t give me time to make my move before he did. His patience had grown thin in that short time and he gently pressed forward again. The pain flared once more, but this time I steeled myself, biting down on his shoulder to keep from crying out. His body shuddered as my teeth sank into his skin, but he didn’t stop.

I curled my toes when I felt him slide in, every inch of me straining to adjust to the sensation. “You’re huge,” I hissed, my voice barely audible, “You’ve filled me up.”

He nodded, full of himself but staying completely still inside me. And when he did move, the pain sliced through me again, making me clutch at him, pulling him closer in a desperate attempt to lessen the sting. My hands gripped his shoulders, my fingers digging into his skin as I fought to stay in control.

For a while, that’s all it was—pain, discomfort, a desperate attempt to get through it. But then, something shifted. The pressure inside me began to change, the pain ebbing away, leaving something else in its place. It was subtle at first, a faint twinge of pleasure that barely registered, but then it grew, spreading through me until I could no longer ignore it.

A low moan escaped my lips, unbidden, and my hips shifted of their own accord, twisting just slightly beneath him. His eyes widened as he felt the change in me, and his movements became slower, more deliberate. He was giving me time, letting me adjust, and I couldn’t help but arch into him, inviting him deeper.

I could feel the heat building inside me, rising with each slow thrust, and the moans that followed were no longer out of pain but something far more primal. The sensation was strange and intoxicating, and I found myself craving more.

His hands gripped my hips, his fingers pressing into my skin as he leaned forward. I felt the sharp sting of his fingers as they grazed my neck, his breath hot against my skin. His movements grew more intense, more purposeful, and I gasped, grabbing onto him as the pressure inside me reached its peak.

Suddenly, he stopped, and I blinked up at him in confusion. His hands slid beneath my thighs, lifting them and wrapping my legs around his waist. The new angle let him sink even deeper inside me, and I cried out in surprise, my body arching into his.

I didn’t know what to do, or how to react, but my body seemed to understand on its own. Instinctively, I tightened the walls of my vagina around him, clenching as his thrusts resumed, harder and deeper.

“You haven’t still said my name,”

Who was this man? I swallowed hard, my mind racing.

My thighs began to tremble, every muscle in my lower abdomen tightening as I felt a warmth spread inside of me. This stranger, ever attuned to my reactions, didn’t stop completely but slowed his movements, teasing my clit with gentle strokes, his fingers knowing exactly how to touch me. I whimpered, my body thrumming with sensation.

In a haze, I found myself leaning forward, teeth grazing the side of his neck. He groaned, his body twitching beneath my bite, but he didn’t stop. His hands remained steady, coaxing the tension inside me to its peak.

My body jerked, and with a final shudder, I felt a rush of liquid spill from me, the sensation shaking my legs. I met his eyes, satisfied yet hungry for more.