I lean over her, my chest against her back, my mouth at her ear. "You're mine," I tell her. "Say it."
"I'm yours."
"Again."
"I'm yours." She pushes back against me, taking me deeper. "I'm yours, Maximus."
The words undo me. I wrap one arm around her waist, my other hand sliding between her thighs to touch her where we're joined. She comes again, harder this time, her whole body shaking, and I follow her with a groan that echoes off the walls.
We collapse together onto the sheets. I gather her against my chest, pressing my face into her hair, breathing her in.
"We should clean up," she mumbles.
"No."
"I'm covered in blood. You're covered in blood. Your sheets are…"
"I don't care." I roll her onto her back, settling my weight between her thighs again. She blinks up at me, surprised. "I told you. All night."
"We just…"
"And we're going to again." I lower my mouth to her breast, swirling my tongue around her nipple until she gasps. "And again. Until neither of us can move."
Her laugh dissolves into a moan as I work my way down her body.
I take my time now. The desperate edge has dulled, replaced by something deeper. Something that wants to learn her. Memorize her. Every curve. Every scar. Every spot that makes her gasp or shiver or moan my name.
I kiss the bruises on her hips, already fading. Press my lips to the scar on her thigh from some long-ago fight. Trace the line of her hip bone with my tongue.
"Maximus." Her voice is strained. "What are you…"
"Shh." I spread her thighs wider, settling between them. "Let me."
I lower my mouth to her center and taste her.
She cries out, her hands flying to my hair, gripping hard. I don't mind the sting. I want her holding onto me. Want her anchored to me while I take her apart.
I work her with my tongue, slow and thorough, learning what makes her gasp, what makes her moan, what makes her thighs tremble around my head. She tastes incredible. Sweet and salt and something darker underneath, something that's purely her.
"Please," she whimpers. "I can't, I need…"
I slide two fingers inside her, curling them just right, and suck hard on the bundle of nerves at her apex.
She comes with a scream that probably wakes half the compound. I don't stop. Keep working her through it, drawing out the pleasure until she's shaking, until she's pulling at my hair, trying to push me away.
"Too much," she gasps. "It's too much, I can't…"
"You can." I climb up her body, positioning myself at her entrance again. "One more. Give me one more."
I push inside her.
She's so sensitive now that she cries out at the first thrust. Her walls flutter around me, still pulsing from her last orgasm, and the sensation nearly undoes me.
This time I go slow. Rolling my hips instead of thrusting, grinding deep, keeping constant pressure on the spot inside her that makes her eyes roll back. Her legs wrap around my waist, her heels digging into my lower back, urging me deeper.
"Look at me," I say.
Her eyes open. Dark and dazed and full of something that makes my chest ache.
