I started to turn over so he could take me from behind, sticking my ass in the air, but he grabbed me with his bighands and forced me onto my back before he moved between my thighs.
“I want to look at my woman while I fuck her.” He pinned one of my legs back before he moved between my thighs. Then he rubbed his cock against my wet folds, lubing himself up in the fountain of my desire. He grabbed his length and directed it inside me, moaning when he sank into my tightness.
I moaned so loud, it was like I just came.
His hand dug into the back of my hair as he held himself over me, thrusting with smooth and even strokes like a machine in a factory, fucking me with precision. Full of possession and passion, he looked at me with an intensity that could easily be mistaken for hatred. “You’re my woman.” He slammed into me harder, fucking me as if he had unlimited power. “Fucking mine.” He said it between his thrusts. “You understand me?” He breathed hard because he was fucking me so vigorously.
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
“Yes,” I said after I moaned. “I’m yours.”
11
FRANCESCA
I fell asleep on the drive home, using his long-sleeved shirt as a blanket, the seat warmer on and his hand on my thigh. I stirred when I felt his arms hook underneath my body and lift me out of the vehicle and against his chest.
I heard the door handles pop back into the car as the Range Rover locked itself when he walked away.
“You don’t have to carry me,” I mumbled into his chest, making no move to leave his embrace.
The smirk was even audible in his voice. “I’ll always carry you, baby.” He carried me up the stairs and placed me in my bed before he pulled my dress over my head like he was tucking me in for the night. He set my clutch on my nightstand and took out my phone so I couldeasily reach it. He pulled the sheets up to my shoulder, being the gentleman I’d met earlier.
Then he walked out of my bedroom and headed back down the stairs.
I was too tired to get up, not even sure what time it was. We’d fucked a couple times, eaten the cold food he’d brought from the restaurant, and then hooked up again before he drove me home. So it was probably two in the morning.
I wasn’t sure if he intended to leave for the night or if he was just locking up the house before bed.
He returned a moment later with a bag over his shoulder and set it on the armchair in the corner.
I closed my eyes when I realized he intended to stay.
He helped himself to my bathroom and showered before bed. I fell asleep and then woke up again to the feeling of him getting into bed beside me, his weight making the mattress shift to accommodate his size.
Then I felt his warm chest pressed against my back before his arm hooked over my stomach, and he pulled me into him. He hugged me close and rested his face against the back of my neck, right in my hair.
Even when we went to sleep, he was possessive.
“Goodnight, baby,” he said.
No man had ever called me that before, and I liked it. “Goodnight, babe.”
The smirk was in his voice when he spoke. “A couple hours ago, you wanted to be friends. And now you call me babe.”
When I woke up, I showered and got ready for the day before I headed downstairs.
I was surprised to see him there, sitting at the dining table with a plate of breakfast in front of him. Shirtless with his hair still a little messy, eyes tired like he hadn’t fully woken up yet, he sat in a chair that was too small for him because he was a big guy.
“I thought you started at dawn.”
“Not anymore.” He took a drink of his coffee.
“My father moved you from the warehouse?”
“Nope. I moved me from the warehouse.”
