And I did. Shattering apart with a cry, my body trembling as pleasure crashed over me in waves. He didn’t pull away, didn’t stop—just kept licking, kept kissing, drawing out every last shudder until I was boneless and breathless, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping me upright.
His fingers slid free, and he lifted me effortlessly, tossing me onto the bed. I bounced once before he was on me, his mouth finding mine again as his hand wrapped around my throat—a possessive weight that sent another pulse of heat through me.
His weight crashed down on me, his hips slamming forward with a force that stole my breath. The mattress groaned under us; the headboard thudding against the wall in a rhythm that matched the brutal pace he set. His fingers tightened around my throat—not enough to hurt, just enough to remind me who was in control.
"I should go slow," he growled against my ear, his voice rough with restraint. "You're new to this."
I arched into him, my nails digging into his back. "Don't."
His breath hitched. The hand not wrapped around my throat slid under my ass, tilting my hips up to meet his next thrust. The angle changed everything—deeper, harder, the stretch of him burning in the best possible way. "You're going to be sore tomorrow."
I didn't care. My legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his ass, pulling him closer. "I want it."
Something dark flashed in his eyes. His hips snapped forward, the force of it making me gasp. "You don't know what you're asking for."
I met his gaze, my breath coming in sharp bursts. "I want to feel it tomorrow. I want to remember."
His jaw clenched. His next thrust was punishing; his cock hitting a spot that made my vision blur. "Fuck, you're perfect." His voice was a broken growl, his control slipping with every movement. "So tight. So fucking mine."
The words sent another wave of heat through me. My body clenched around him, my nails raking down his back. He groaned, low and rough, his hips stuttering for just a second before he found his rhythm again—harder, faster, his grip on my throat tightening just enough to make my pulse roar in my ears.
"You're going to bleed on my cock," he muttered, his voice dark with something primal. "Going to mark you so deep you'll feel me for days."
The filthy words sent a thrill through me. My body tightened, my breath coming in sharp gasps as pleasure coiled tight, ready to snap. "Yes?—"
His mouth crashed into mine, swallowing the rest of the word. His tongue stroked deep, his teeth nipping my lower lip as his hips pistoned forward, each thrust sending me higher, closer to the edge. I could feel him everywhere—his weight pinning me down, his cock filling me, his hand around my throat, his breath hot against my skin.
"Come for me," he ordered, his voice rough with command. "Now."
Fuck, my body listened before my mouth caught up. Shattering apart with a broken cry, my body clamping down around him as pleasure crashed over me in waves. He groaned, low and guttural, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep and followed me over the edge. I felt him pulse inside me, his breath ragged against my neck, his body trembling with the force of his release.
He didn't pull out immediately. Just stayed there, buried deep, his forehead pressed to mine as we both fought to catch our breath. His hand slid from my throat to cup my jaw, his thumb brushing my lower lip. "Mine," he muttered again, quieter this time, like he was reminding himself as much as me.
I nodded, my body still trembling with aftershocks. His lips found mine in a kiss that was softer than before, but no less possessive. No less certain.
And when he finally pulled away, rolling to the side and taking me with him, I didn't resist. Just let him arrange me against his chest, his arms wrapping around me like he was afraid I'd disappear.
Like he was afraid to let me go.
Chapter 24
Rhys
I closed my eyes, feeling her weight settle against my chest. Her breathing slowed, soft and even, warm puffs of air against my skin. Every muscle in my body screamed at me to leave—to pull away before I made this worse, before I let myself believe this could be anything other than a colossal fucking mistake.
But she fit there. Against me. Like some piece I didn't know was missing had finally clicked into place.
I told myself I was just making sure she was safe. That I'd stay a few minutes, let her fall asleep, then slip out before she woke. Before she could see the guilt crawling across my face, before she could ask questions I had no right answers for.
I knew it was a lie the second the thought formed.
My hand moved of its own accord, sliding down her spine in a slow, possessive stroke. She shifted against me, a soft sound escaping her throat, and something primal surged through my chest. Mine. The word echoed in my head like a brand, burning itself deeper with every breath she took.
I shouldn't stay. I shouldn't touch her again. I should put distance between us before I ruined her completely, before I dragged her into the wreckage of whatever the hell I was.
But my fingers kept moving—tracing the curve of her hip, the dip of her waist, memorizing every inch of her like I could somehow hold onto this moment if I just paid close enough attention.
This was a mistake. I knew that. Had known it the second I followed her home, the second I put my hand on that door. But knowing didn't stop the pull. Didn't stop the hunger clawing through me, the need to keep her close, to feel her skin against mine, to prove she was real and here and mine.
