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I gasp, baring my throat to him. It draws a dark groan from Michael before he leans in to connect our mouths again. My fingers grapple for purchase in the fabric of his shirt, holding onto him like he’s a lifeline in stormy water. I kiss him like he’s the oxygen keeping me alive. He holds me like I’m his most precious possession.
“That’s right,” he growls when he pulls away, twisting a handful of my hair. “You’re all mine.”
I moan in response. This is exactly what I want – the intensity, the unrelenting attention. I desperately desire more of that. I want him to be rough, to treat me like one of his prisoners. As though reading my mind, he spins me around so I’m facing the door, pinning my arms above my head. I can feel his arousal against my ass.
“Now, I’m going to take what I want from you,” he says, his breath hot against the shell of my ear, grazing his teeth against the sensitive skin and sending a shiver down my spine. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I moan, knowing this is his way of asking for permission.
Without any hesitation, Michael hooks his fingers into the waistband of my leggings and pulls them, along with my panties, down to the ground. I do my best to kick them to the side, but his hand finds my hip, giving a hard squeeze as a warning. Then, he lets his hand drift between my legs, my back to him, his fingers finding my swollen clit, teasing me. He makes a strangled noise when he feels how wet I already am.
I groan, pushing against his fingers in search of more friction. He indulges, slipping two fingers inside of me. His fingers caress me gently as he moves from inside me back to my clit and back again, pulling noises from me that I didn’t know I could make. My legs begin to shake.
Whilst keeping my hands in place, he momentarily removes his other hand from my aching pussy to undo the button of his jeans. At first I wonder what he’s doing and I beg him not to stop. My breathing quickens when I hear the slide of his zipper.
I listen, anticipation wrapping itself around me as he allows his jeans to fall to the ground. As soon as they’re off, I feel the length of his erect penis slam into me without warning. I’m unable to suppress the scream that comes from my throat. Behind me, Michael groans, letting go of my arms, his fingers now digging into my waist, controlling the pace.
He slaps my ass with the back of his hand. Over and over again. “Such a good girl,” he says, his voice husky with lust. “You take me so well.”
A whine is the only response I’m able to give. His praise washes over me and tears me in different directions. Despite his roughness, the words were almost gentle. It’s intoxicating, enough to make my head spin. I’m dizzy now.
His pace is brutal, and pleasure builds steadily as he completely owns me. When my noises get even more high-pitched, he moves his hand around to my clit.
He continues to deeply penetrate me over and over again whilst his fingers meet and find my swollen clit screaming to be touched, a delicious mix of filling me up entirely with his length and giving my clit exactly what it needs. I’m so close now. My orgasm approaches quickly, faster than it ever has before. From Michael’s faltering rhythm, I can tell he isn’t too far behind me.
“Tell me who you belong to,” he demands, working me over relentlessly.
“Y-you,” I manage through my cloud of desire. “I belong to you. I’m yours.”
“That’s right, baby. All mine.”
My legs buckle beneath me and I see stars as I cum with a loud scream. I don’t even care who hears. Michael holds me up, fucking me through my orgasm. With a few more thrusts and a groan of my name, he’s spilling hot seed inside me, filling me up and claiming me as his own.
I’ve never felt more wanted in my entire life.
He pulls out of me slowly, pressing gentle kisses to the back of my neck. I turn around in his arms, and he leans in to give me a loving, lingering kiss. I’m safe again, and I know Michael will do everything to keep it that way.
“You know,” he says when he pulls away, bringing his hands up to cup my cheeks. “I took the day off already.”
“So you could pack your things,” I say, guilt threatening to replace the afterglow of what we just did.
“Maybe,” he admits. “But I think that can wait. I thought I’d spend the day apologizing for invading your privacy without permission.”
“How do you intend on doing that, officer?” I ask as relief washes over me.
“Well,” he says thoughtfully, “if you could accompany me to the bedroom, I’d be glad to show you.”
Epilogue
6 Years Later
Michael
“Daddy, can you turn the lights on?” our daughter, Callie, asks from the back seat of my police cruiser.
She’s been begging me to take her to school in it for weeks. Now that I’ve given in, I see that she had a plan all along.
“Are you trying to impress your friends?” I say, my hand already reaching for the switch.
