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“Mine.”
The sound is a low rumble, almost a purr. His calloused hands slide up my thighs, gripping and massaging my ass cheeks, spreading them apart, digging his fingers into the firm flesh. His thumbs slide under the waistband of my panties, and then he grabs the lacy material and shreds it off my body, hurling it away.
I don’t know where my ruined panties end up. I can’t focus on that, because his hands are on me again, hotter and more demanding than before. He groans again, kneading my flesh like he’s trying to bend it to his will, like he’s trying to alter the very form and shape of me.
The side of my face presses against the top of the washer as my eyelids droop, sensation ricocheting through my body. My fingertips latch on to the edge of the sleek machine, gripping tightly as I arch my back slightly, shoving my ass back toward Marcus.
“Fuck, angel.”
There’s a rustling of clothes as he pushes his pants down, and then I feel the smooth head of his cock against my ass. He shifts his stance slightly, grabbing my hip with one hand as he presses his hips forward, sliding his cock through my wet folds. His thick length brushes against my clit, and I clamp my lip between my teeth, whimpering softly.
He does it again, pulling back and sliding slowly forward, fucking my slit without ever breaching my entrance.
It’s torture.
It’s too much and not enough all at once, and I press back against him harder, moving my hips to try to draw him inside my body.
But his grip on me tightens, stilling my movement. One broad hand traces the line of my bare spine all the way to where the fabric bunches at my lower back as his cock slides through my pussy lips again.
“Do you want this? Do you want me?”
His tone is full of a filthy, beautiful promise.
“Yes,” I gasp out, so far beyond lying that I’d tell him any fucking truth he wanted to know right now.
Our loud, harsh breaths are still filling the small room, and I can feel the tension in his body, the effort it’s taking him to hold back. He wants to be inside me. He needs to be inside me.
But he won’t give either of us what we need until he’s ready.
“Are you mine, angel?” he demands. “Do you believe that?”
“Yes.”
There’s no hesitation. No hint of doubt in my voice. And it’s not just because I want him to fuck me so badly I’m literally shaking. It’s because I do believe it.
I hate that it took him almost dying to break down the last of my walls, but everything I felt when he was gone burns in my chest ten times stronger now that he’s here with me again.
I’m done pretending this thing between us makes sense.
I’m done pretending it needs to.
Marcus hums in satisfaction, stroking his cock through my folds again and coating himself in my slick arousal. His hand skates up my spine again, destroying what’s left of my updo as he grabs a fistful of my hair.
“And am I yours?” he murmurs roughly. “Tell me I’m yours.”
Now I do hesitate.
The words sit on my tongue, trapped behind my lips as I suck in air through my nose.
I saw the fucking ring.
I saw the look in Victoria’s eyes.
Marcus tugs my hair sharply. I gasp, tears springing to my eyes as all my focus rushes back to him. To the feel of his body looming behind mine, his cock so close to where I need him. To the electric current that passes between us, so strong I swear my skin must be sparking.
“Say it, angel,” he rasps. “Say it and fucking mean it.”
“You’re mine!” I shout. My body is shuddering, already so close to an orgasm that I can feel the warm wave spreading through my limbs. I bump my ass harder against him, punishing him just like he’s punishing me, feeding the desperate need inside both of us. “You’re fucking mine, all right? You’re mine! You’re mine! You’re mi—”
