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“Please,” I murmured. “I need you inside of me.”
His smile was wicked and dark. “On your knees, Little Monster.” He took a step back and waited for me to kneel. I dropped to the floor and looked at his cock. Hard and thick, circumcised and veiny, the base covered in a messy trail of hair. I imagined how it would feel to have him pry my teeth apart and shove it into my mouth.
I leaned forward and ran my tongue over the head of his cock before gripping it with my trembling fingers, feeling his shaft pulse in my hand. I couldn’t take him all in—not yet—but I kept my head tilted, flicking my tongue over the tip of his cock and spinning my tongue around the head.
“You tease,” Atticus moaned, as he fisted his hands in my hair.
I slid my mouth down his shaft, taking him as deep as I could handle, and I rolled my tongue around the base of his cock. I reached between his legs, brushing my fingers over his balls as I slid my mouth back up. I looked up at him, my lips stretched wide over his shaft.
“I could live in your mouth, Little Monster,” he muttered. “I want you to think of me with every word you speak.”
I pulled my mouth off of him.
He smiled and reached down, yanking me to my feet. He then grabbed my thighs and lifted me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he buried his face in my neck, his lips resting against my skin. I felt every muscle in his body tense as he carried me to the bed, but he didn’t release me. He climbed on, slamming me down into the sheets, his lips finding mine.
His brown eyes looked down at me, half shut, heavy with lust. I reveled in his ravenous gaze, his full lips parted, his luscious hair tousled.
The bedsprings squeaked beneath us. He tore off his shirt, and his fingers circled my throat, his grip tight and unforgiving.
“Don’t ever leave me again,” he growled.
I kissed him, my tongue pushing through his lips, mingling with his. He tasted like a thick, intoxicating cocktail of lust and power. His hands roamed my body and stroked my shoulders, my hips.
With his lips still pressed against mine, his hard body against mine, I reached down and grabbed his cock. I fisted it in my hand, stroking it hard and fast, feeling it pulse and grow even bigger beneath my palm.
“I’m going to fuck you, Little Monster.”
He kissed me again then, shoving his tongue between my lips and peppering the corners of my mouth with his kiss. He rested his forehead against mine, his hips rolling against my hand, his cock swelling in my grip.
He pulled back, my hand falling from his cock.
“I love you,” he whispered. The breathlessness of his voice made me weak. I wanted to feel every inch of him on my skin. I wanted to explore every bit of his dark soul.
He tilted my head to the side, exposing my neck.
Then he bit me.
I groaned, and he wrapped his hand around my throat, squeezing. “You’re mine,” he whispered.
My eyes widened and my body ached. I could feel his cock press against me, hard and heated, and I wanted him inside of me more than I wanted to breathe.
“I’m yours,” I whispered.
He kissed me then. Aggressively. Intensely. Feeling. The weight of his body on mine.
His thumb moved to my jawline, his grip softening slightly. I cried out, my body erupting with heat when his cock slipped into me. He was desperate for me, his voice hoarse as he fucked me hard. He licked his tongue over my jaw and thrust in and out. It wasn’t a slow, easy fuck. It was passionate. Claiming. It was damning and ruthless.
I was completely owned by him. There was no denying that. I was his and he was mine. The connection between us was thick and lustful. I clawed at his back, dug my nails in, and he howled, his voice deep and sultry. “Mine,” he growled, gripping my throat and pinning me to the bed. I couldn’t breathe, but I didn’t need to. I was fine like that. Better, even.
“Yes,” I managed to whine. “Yours.”
He captured my lips, desperate.
“Christine…”
I was drowning in him, drowning in his voice, drowning in his touch. He ran his hands down my body, cupped my breasts and squeezed. “Atticus!” I cried and pushed up against him. He was fucking me hard and I was close. He was beyond filthy; he was rough and demanding. It was hard, forceful. I could barely breathe, and he was completely filling me. His cock was throbbing, growing impossibly harder. I begged for him to make me feel good, begged for him to keep going, begged for him to fuck me harder and harder. He thrust in and out of me, fast and merciless.
He shifted, and the angle of his cock hit deeper within me.
