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Not because of his body—though the sight of him standing there, broad shoulders tense and muscles shifting beneath warm skin, is enough to make my stomach flip—but because of the mark sitting right over his heart.

“W-what’s this?” I whisper, pushing myself up on trembling elbows. Something possessive and aching sparks inside me at the sight of it.

“A happy scar.” He says with an easy shrug.

I stare harder. A thin red line stretches from the centre of his chest down towards his stomach, the edges still angry and raw enough to look real. And beside it, written in delicate cursive along the mark, are the words: a happy scar.

My throat tightens unexpectedly.

“But you hate tattoos.”

“But I love you.”

“You’re insane.” I breathe harshly, but there’s no heat behind it. “Why do I love it so much?” I glance up, my fingers hover over the tattoo carefully, almost afraid to touch it.

“Because you like to mark your territory, don’t you?” He chides, his hand lifting to cup my cheek.

“And you don’t?” I tilt my head, my gaze flickering between his eyes and the tattoo etched into his skin.

A dark amusement flashes across his face. “Not like this.” He shakes his head slowly, thumb brushing over my cheekbone. “This is ink.” His grip tightens just enough to make my pulse skip.

“I prefer my property marked with my cum.” His voice drops lower, rough enough to send heat curling through me. “With my bites. Finger-shaped bruises when I choke you too tight, you cannot breathe. When I get you pregnant, our children will carry the proof of our love long after this ink has turned to ash.”

His nose trails slowly up the column of my neck, and my breath falters at the possessiveness laced in every word that leaves his mouth and touches my skin.

“Get ready to be carried around, because you are not walking properly after this.” He lines his cock with my opening, thick veins popping as he strokes his length one last time before it enters me.

My eyes pop wide open with the intrusion and a loud choked gasp fills the air.

“Ah, fuck.” I hiss, my legs shivering.

“Fucking hell, I missed this.” His head bowed low, as he watches my hole swallowing his dick with amusement. “Look at your greedy pussy, taking my cock like a good girl.” He pulls back, my insides clenching as if to keep him there.

I part my legs before he enters me this time, the pain reducing into pleasure as he slowly grinds, pulling me closer and entirely lifts me off the counter.

My legs coming around him, holding onto him for dear life before he sighs. “Fuck the bed, I need you right now.” And slams my body against the wall at the same time, thrusting balls deep inside me.

His hand comes around the back of my head before I can hit the wall, shielding me from the impact as he presses closer instead.

The protective gesture clashes so violently with the roughness of him that my breath catches.

“Oh—” The sound breaks from my lips when he moves again, slow at first, deliberate enough to make my knees weaken.

My fingers twitch uselessly against his shoulders until he taps my wrist lightly.

“Hold onto me tightly.” He murmurs near my ear.

I obey instantly, arms winding around his neck as I cling to him like a koala bear, completely overwhelmed by the way he handles me, strong, possessive, but gentle too.

My back presses against the wall as he moves against me with relentless intensity, every motion rough enough to steal the breath from my lungs.

His jaw tightens near my shoulder before his teeth sink into the sensitive crook of my neck, the sharp sting pulling a broken moan from my lips.

The sound echoes embarrassingly loud around us, but I can’t bring myself to care.

“Fuck.” He groans against my neck, voice rough and unsteady, like he’s losing control right alongside me.

My fingers knot in his hair instinctively, holding him there as my pulse races wildly beneath his mouth.