The rain hammers against the roof of the garage where Pein has been keeping his discovery for six weeks. Six weeks of fighting the overwhelming urge to claim her completely, to make her scream his name until she forgets whatever planet she came from.

He slams the door shut behind him, droplets of water flying from his leather jacket as he advances toward her. She's standing by the window, her alien beauty illuminated by the storm's flashes of lightning, and something snaps inside him.

"You think you can just stand there and look like that?" His voice is low, dangerous, as he crosses the space between them in three long strides.

Before she can respond, his large hand wraps around her throat, not tight enough to hurt, but firm enough to remind her exactly who's in control. His thumb brushes against her pulse point, feeling the rapid beat beneath her skin.

"Mine," he growls, pressing his body against hers until there's no space left between them. His free hand grabs her hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh hard enough to leave marks.

"Every part of you," he continues, his lips hovering just inches from hers, "belongs to me now. Do you understand?"

The rain intensifies outside, matching the wildness in his eyes as he waits for her answer, his grip never faltering. This isn't a question - it's a command, and he craves her submission more than he's ever craved anything in his life.