All of this is mine. Every inch.
I push into her, and her whole body shudders, her hands fisting in the sheets.
“Oh God—oh?—”
I stay there for a second, feeling it, feeling her. Then I start to move, and the sound she makes into the pillow isn’t quiet.
Everything that’s been building all day comes out here and now.
I drive into her hard, the rhythm rough. I’ve stopped trying to rein it in.
The bed shifts under us, the headboard knocking sharp against the wall. She meets it straight away—pushing back, matching me.
“Don’t be gentle.” Her voice breaks, rough and breathless. “Fuck me like you hate me.”
My hands tighten on her hips, pulling her into each thrust, and she gives it right back, moving with me, taking it, answering it, locked into the same pace.
I drive into her again and again, the headboard knocking harder against the wall with every thrust.
She pushes back just as hard, turning her head to look at me over her shoulder, watching me as I fuck her.
I fold over her, my mouth at her shoulder, teeth scraping over her skin, and she hisses.
“Bite me.”
Something in me answers before I think, and I do—my teeth catching her skin, not too hard, just enough. Then I soothe it, my mouth closing over the spot, sucking gently. She gasps into the pillow, her back arching under me.
“Call me your filthy whore.”
That lands somewhere volatile.
My grip tightens in her hair, and I pull her head back, my mouth close to her ear.
“You’re my filthy whore.”
I drive in on the last word and feel her clench around me.
“Mine. A whore who can’t get enough of my cock—who wakes up wet for it, who’d beg for it if I made you.”
“Don’t stop. Keep going.”
My hand slides under, pressing against her, feeling where we’re joined, the heat of her, how slick she is for me.
“Your greedy pussy stays wet for me. Always. Formycock and no one else’s. You understand me?”
“Yes—yes?—”
“Say it.”
“I’m your whore. I stay wet for you, Dane. Only you.”
My hand slides up, wrapping around her throat. She drops her chin and leans into it, offering it to me without hesitation. I tighten my grip—controlled, deliberate.
“Ohhh—” The sound she makes is low and helpless, nothing like anything I’ve heard from her before. I feel it everywhere.
“Dane—I’m—I’m going to?—”
“Yeah,” I say against her hair. “Fuck yeah, you are.”
