"You," I gasped, pride long forgotten. "I want you inside me."
"How badly?" His hand cracked against my ass, not hard enough to truly hurt, but enough to send a jolt of pleasure-pain through my core.
"Please," I begged, past caring how needy I sounded. "Please, Caiden."
He groaned at my plea, then thrust forward in one powerful stroke, filling me completely. The sudden fullness made me cry out, my fingers clawing at the sheets as he began to move with renewed vigor.
Caiden pounded into me from behind, the angle sending him impossibly deep. Every stroke hit that perfect spot inside me, building pressure like a storm gathering strength.
"You like it rough, don't you?" he panted, one hand sliding up to tangle in my hair, pulling just enough to arch my neck back. "You like when I take control?"
"Yes," I gasped, the word barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin. "God, yes."
I clenched around him, drawing a strangled moan from his lips.
"That's it," he encouraged, his rhythm faltering momentarily before finding a new, more frantic pace. "Squeeze me like that again."
I did, deliberately tightening around his length as he drove into me, and was rewarded with a string of curses that made my cheeks flush with pride.
I was doing this to him. I was making the always-controlled Caiden come undone.
His hips snapped faster, harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. I felt myself building toward another climax, that familiar tension coiling tight at my core.
"Touch yourself," he commanded.
I slid one hand beneath my body, fingers finding my swollen clit.
The dual sensation—his cock driving deep inside me, my fingers circling that sensitive bundle of nerves—sent me spiraling toward the edge.
"That's it," he encouraged, his rhythm never faltering.
The pressure built until it was almost unbearable, a tightening coil of pleasure that demanded release.
When it finally broke, it crashed through me like a tidal wave, my inner walls clenching around him as I cried out his name.
He groaned at the sensation, his thrusts becoming erratic as my body milked him. "Fuck, Amelia," he panted, his fingers digging into my flesh. "I can't?—"
He buried himself to the hilt and exploded inside me, his whole body tensing as he filled me with hot pulses.
I felt every throb, every twitch as he emptied himself completely, his forehead pressed against my shoulder blade, breath coming in ragged gasps against my skin.
For several heartbeats, we remained frozen in that position, connected in the most intimate way possible, before he carefully lowered us both to the mattress.
He didn't pull out immediately, instead wrapping his arms around me from behind, one hand splayed possessively across my stomach, the other cradling my breast.
"Holy shit," he whispered against my ear, his voice rough with spent passion.
I smiled, still too breathless to speak, my body humming with aftershocks of pleasure.
His seed was warm inside me, a forbidden intimacy that should have terrified me but instead felt like the most natural thing in the world.
Finally, he rolled off, careful not to break me, and lay beside me, arm flung over his eyes as if to hide from the daylight.
I curled into his side, letting my cheek press to the hard, sweaty plane of his chest. His heart hammered, wild and terrified. I knew the feeling.
We didn’t say much. There was nothing left to say. I traced the old cigarette burn above his heart, watched the goosebumps rise and fade under my touch.
He lay there another minute, then got up. Slow, deliberate, like he was testing every joint for breakage before committing to gravity.
