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I let out a shiver as his fingers kiss along my jaw, dipping down to trace my collarbone.
I do. In my heart, in my soul, I know Reign is mine. He always has been. He’s always been meant to be mine.
So, why does the masked man live in the darkest parts of my mind?
“I know it, Reign. I’ve always known it.”
“Your skin ignites the moment it touches mine. Do you see?” he asks, lifting his hand, and I can feel the heat and electricity roll through us. “Even our souls are meant to collide. Would you collide with me, Lakyn?”
“I’ve already crashed into you, Reign,” I whisper.
His hand goes to the top of my sports bra, and he pulls down gently, allowing my breasts to pop free.
He leans down, his eyes lifting as he watches me, his gaze cutting through the thick locks of hair that drape across his forehead.
With a breath, he dives down, his teeth scraping against my nipple. I let out a whimper, arching into his mouth, wanting him to fill me, touch me, disintegrate my body beneath his palm.
He alternates to my other breast, scraping his teeth until I feel a pinch of pain before it’s swiped away, his tongue darting out to soothe the ache.
“I want you,” I whisper.
His fingers curl around the front scrap of my panties. And he pulls them over my waist. I lift my hips, wiggling my legs to help get them off.
I want him now. I want him forever.
Each movement leaves an ache on my cheek and between my legs. The belt had left its mark, though I know those marks won’t remain, only Reign will.
He leans back, gripping me by the waist, and he flips me over, until my stomach hits the mattress. His fingers dance along my backside, and I hiss through my teeth as I feel the lingering burn from his belt.
“Your skin looks beautiful with my marks on it,” he murmurs, his finger tracing the welt I’m certain is growing. “I could paint your entire body withme, and it would never be enough.”
“What would never be enough?” I moan, loving the way his fingers dig into my sore muscles, both from Reign and the masked man. They have me exhausted, but in a way that makes me want it to never end.
“Making you mine,” he growls, pulling my hips up, until my knees dig into the mattress.
My hands go forward, and I grip the mattress as my thighs rub together. I can feel the wetness dripping between my legs. I’m so ready for him. More ready than I’ve ever been in my entire life.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he groans, his hand dragging up my spine. I let out a shiver, my eyes settling closed.
“No, I’m not.”
I’m far from perfect.
He hums. “No, perhaps you’re broken. But I like you better this way. Off-kilter, a little mad, slightly fractured, perfectly mine.”
I let out a moan, and I can feel the head of his cock as he brushes it between my thighs. My walls clench, anticipating the pinch of pain I’ll inevitably get.
He sinks in, and my back arches, pleasure rippling through me as he pushes to the hilt. A groan works its way from my throat as he begins to thrust, twitching inside of me.
He grips my hips, his fingers digging into the tops of my thighs as he yanks me toward him. “Fucking beautiful, Lakyn,” he growls, his hand washing over my spine, riding the curves and dips of my body.
Then his hand whips out, shoving under my knees, knocking me down. I fall to my side, and he lifts my leg, propping it on his shoulder. His eyes darken, flaring as he watches his cock slip right between my folds.
He grips my ankle tightly, stretching me past my limit as he rolls his hips expertly, enough that I let out a moan with each thrust.
“Only mine. Forever mine. Infinitely mine.”
Only mine. Forever mine. Infinitely mine.
