Chapter 24
Gideon
Her lips were swollen from my kisses, her chest heaving like she’d just run a marathon. I stepped back just enough to look at her—really look at her—and fuck; she was perfect. Ruined. Mine.
Breasts spilling out of that torn shirt, thighs glistening, legs still spread from where I’d had her. My cock ached just from the sight, heavy and thick against my zipper. I didn’t even think. Just pulled it out, stroking myself slow, watching the way her breath hitched when she saw me.
Precum beaded at the tip, and I groaned, thumb swiping over the slick head. No way in hell I was wasting a single drop. Not when I could give it all to her. Fill her up. Mark her from the inside out.
I leaned in, my free hand gripping her chin, forcing her to meet my eyes. "You’re gonna take every fucking inch, Belle. And you’re gonna beg for it."
Her pupils blew wide, her lips parting on a shaky exhale. She didn’t deny it. Didn’t fight. Just watched me with that defiant, desperate look that made my balls tighten.
I lined myself up, the head of my cock pressing against her entrance. She was so fucking wet, so ready for me, her body already clenching like it knew what was coming. I pushed in just the tip, watching her face twist—pleasure, pain, something raw and real.
"Gideon—" My name on her lips was a prayer and a curse.
I gripped her hip, my fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. "Say it."
Her nails raked down my arms, her voice trembling. "Please."
I froze, halfway to sinking into her, the sound of that word stopping me cold.
Please.
She'd said it. Not dragged out of her, not coerced. She'd asked.
Something shifted in my chest—sharp, painful, terrifying. I stared down at her flushed face, her swollen lips, her eyes glazed with want she couldn't hide anymore. This wasn't happening because I'd forced it. This was happening because she wanted me.
My Belle. Finally fucking mine.
The realization hit harder than any check I'd ever taken on the ice.
Maybe she was just caught up in the heat. Maybe tomorrow she'd hate herself, hate me, go back to fighting tooth and nail. Probably would.
I didn't care.
I'd been waiting a goddamn year for this moment—since the second she laughed in my face at that gala, since she looked at me like I was nothing special. I'd thought about her every night since. Imagined her under me, around me, mine in every way that mattered.
And now she was.
I gripped her thigh harder, spreading her wider, watching her body open for me. But something else clawed its way up my throat, ugly and possessive and necessary.
"Has any dick been in your cunt before?"
Her eyes snapped to mine, fury cutting through the haze. "What?"
"You heard me." I pressed in just a fraction more, making her gasp. "Answer the question."
"That's none of your fucking business," she spat, shoving at my chest.
I caught her wrists, pinned them above her head with one hand. "Everything about you is my business now. Answer."
"Why does it matter?" Her voice cracked, half anger, half something vulnerable she tried to hide.
"Because I need to know." My jaw clenched so hard it ached. "I need to know if anyone else has been where I'm about to be. If I'm the first to fuck you in this perfect little—"
"You're insane."
"Answer. The. Question."
Her chest heaved, eyes blazing. "And if there were? Would you stop?"
Never. Not in a million fucking years.
"Well, first," I growled, forcing my hips to still even though every instinct screamed at me to bury myself inside her, "I'm going to go slowly if this is your first time."
Her laugh was sharp, bitter. "Because you're so romantic."
The mockery in her voice snapped something in me. I leaned down until our noses almost touched, my free hand sliding up to wrap around her throat—not squeezing, just there. A reminder.
"And if you've fucked someone before," I snarled, feeling the pulse beneath my palm racing, "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't even remember them. Then I'm going to find out who they were, and I'm going to kill them with my bare hands."
Her eyes widened. "You're psychotic."
"For you? Absolutely."
"You can't just—you don't get to—" She thrashed beneath me, her bound wrists straining. "This is exactly what I'm talking about! You think you can control everything, decide everything—"
"I can." I pressed in another inch, watching her breath stutter. "I do."
"Fuck you, Gideon."
"That's the plan." I pulled back, my cock sliding out of my pants completely, and she made a desperate sound that went straight to my balls. "Now answer the goddamn question."
"Why?" she demanded, glaring up at me with those defiant eyes I wanted to drown in. "So you can torture yourself? So you can rage about something that happened before I even knew you existed?"
"Yes."
"You're impossible."
"And you're stalling." I gripped her hip harder, my thumb stroking the soft skin there. "Which tells me everything I need to know."
"It tells you nothing." But her voice wavered.
I studied her face—the flush creeping down her neck, the way she couldn't quite hold my gaze. "Has anyone touched you the way I touch you?"
"Gideon—"
"Has anyone made you come the way I make you come?"
Her jaw clenched. "Stop."
"Has anyone," I whispered against her ear, my hand sliding between us to find her still wet and ready, "been inside this perfect cunt?"
Silence.
Then, barely audible, "No."
I went still.
Completely fucking still.
She was a virgin.
Mine.
The word detonated in my chest, primal and absolute. No one had touched her. No one had been inside her. No one had made her theirs.
Only me.
"Are you happy?" she asked, voice sharp with humiliation and fury.
"Shut up," I snapped, harder than I meant to.
Because I couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't do anything except process the fact that this woman—this infuriating, stubborn, perfect woman—had never given herself to anyone.
And she was about to give herself to me.
I lined my cock to her cunt, hands shaking with the effort to stay controlled. Pressed in slow. So damn slowly. Every instinct screamed at me to bury myself deep, to claim her hard and fast, to make her mine in one brutal stroke.
But I didn't.
Because I'd told the truth at the restaurant. I didn't want to hurt her. Not for this. Not for her first time.
She sucked in a breath, sharp and pained, and I felt it—the resistance, the way her body fought the intrusion even as it tried to accommodate me. Tight. So fucking tight I thought I'd lose my mind. The stretch was brutal, her walls clenching around just the head of my cock, and I groaned.
"I'm going to worship you the rest of my fucking life," I ground out, the words escaping before I could stop them.
She didn't respond. Just clutched at me, nails digging into my shoulders, scratching down my back hard enough to draw blood. The sharp sting made me chuckle—low, dark, satisfied.
Because it felt so damn good.
Pain and pleasure tangled together, her body surrendering inch by agonizing inch while she marked me up like she owned me right back.
Maybe she did.
I pressed deeper, watching her face contort—pain bleeding into something else, something raw and overwhelmed. Her breath came in stuttering gasps, her thighs trembling around my hips.
"Breathe," I murmured, pressing my forehead to hers. "Just breathe, Belle."
Her cunt clenched around me like a vice, hot and tight and perfect, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from losing it right then.
The way she whimpered, the way her nails dug into my shoulders—fuck, I’d wear those marks like medals.
Every scratch, every bruise she left on me was proof. Mine.
I pressed my forehead to hers, my voice rough as gravel. "That's it, baby. Take me. You're doing so fucking good."
She made a broken sound, her body tensing around me. I stilled instantly, my cock barely halfway inside her. "Breathe," I murmured, brushing my lips over her temple. "Just breathe, Belle. I've got you."
Her breath hitched, her fingers twisting in the fabric of my shirt. "It—it burns."
I groaned, my hips rolling just a fraction, unable to resist. "I know. Fuck, I know. But you're taking me so well. So fucking perfect for me."
She whimpered again, her thighs trembling around my hips.
I could feel her pulse racing where my hand still cradled her throat, her heartbeat wild beneath my palm.
"You're mine," I growled, unable to stop the words.
"Every inch of you. Every sound you make.
Every fucking breath." I thrust in another careful inch, watching her face twist. "You feel that?
That's me inside you. No one else. Never anyone else. "
Her back arched, a broken moan spilling from her lips.
I caught it with my mouth, kissing her hard, swallowing the sound like it was the last drop of water in a desert.
My free hand slid between us, finding her clit, circling slow and firm.
"Gonna make you come on my cock, Belle. Gonna make you beg for it. "
She shook her head, but her hips rolled up to meet my touch, her body betraying her even as she fought it. "I hate you," she gasped.
I smirked against her lips. "No, you don't." Another slow, careful thrust. "You love this. Love how I stretch you. Love how I make you feel." Her cunt fluttered around me, and I groaned. "Fuck, you're dripping for me. Such a good girl, taking my cock like this."
Her nails raked down my back, drawing blood, and I hissed, my hips jerking forward before I could stop myself. She cried out, her body tightening around me, and I forced myself to still, my voice a ragged whisper. "Easy, baby. I've got you. Just let me in."