Chapter 43
FORTY-THREE
CADEN
Mine.
Emma was mine.
The way she moaned my name, the way her body trembled beneath me, I'd never felt anything like it. I'd made her come on my tongue, and I couldn’t get enough. I was nowhere near done with her.
She was sprawled out on the bed, hair wild and damp against flushed skin, her chest rising and falling like she’d just survived something.
Or maybe been destroyed by it.
And the pride surging in my chest from knowing I’d wrecked her like that, was almost unbearable.
“Fuck,” I whispered, leaning in to brush a damp strand of hair from her cheek. Her skin was still warm, dewy with sweat, and when her eyes fluttered open to meet mine, I nearly lost it all over again.
“You’re so godsdamn perfect.”
Not just her body, though that alone could’ve ruined me.
It was everything. The way she looked at me. The way she trusted me. The way she gave herself over without hesitation. No walls. No shame. No fear.
She was so fucking mine, and I was so far gone for her, I didn’t know where I ended and she began.
Her breathing had started to slow, but the fire in her eyes hadn’t dimmed. If anything, it had deepened, turned molten.
“Caden, I want to feel you inside me. I need to feel you inside of me.”
“Jesus, Emma,” I breathed, the last thread of my control fraying. “You begging for my cock should be fucking illegal.”
My mouth crashed onto hers, rough and ravenous, like I could devour the sound of her need.
She barely had time to catch her breath before I freed my hard cock, lined myself up and pressed the thick head to her entrance, still soaked, still twitching from her orgasm. I held there, just long enough to meet her eyes.
“There’s no going back after this, Nightcrawler,” I growled, my voice all gravel and heat. “You take my cock, and that’s it. You’re mine. Forever.”
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t even hesitate. She just smiled. “Less talking, more fucking.”
A feral sound ripped from my throat. I slapped her clit again, hard, and precise.
She jolted beneath me, a gasp tearing from her lips as her back arched, thighs twitching around my hips.
“You want my cock inside you?” I rasped, teasing her entrance with controlled pressure.
She nodded, breathless. “Yes.”
“Then ask me nicely.”
Her gaze lifted, lips wet, eyes dark with the kind of submission that made my blood burn. “Please fuck me…Sir.”
I nearly blew my load then and there.
Another growl ripped from deep in my chest. “Oh, fuck. That’s what you call me from now on.”
And then, in one brutal thrust, I buried myself to the hilt.
She screamed and cursed at me like the hellcat she was. “Godsfuckingdamn, Colt!”
“Too much?” I groaned, tight with restraint.
“Yes!” she gasped, trembling beneath me. “Fuck! Let a girl adjust!”
My jaw clenched, every instinct in me screaming to move, to take, to lose control. She was wrapped around me like a vice—tight and wet—while those stunning blue eyes locked onto mine, blazing with heat and defiance and something beautifully wrecked.
I leaned closer, my voice dark and edged with promise. “You’re taking every inch of me, Nightcrawler.”
A beat. A breath.
“I’m going to ruin you,” I murmured, my grip tightening slightly, “the way you ruined me.”
But I held still. Not only because she asked, but because I wanted to feel her melt around me.
I needed to feel her surrender.
Her breath came in ragged gasps as she adjusted to the stretch, her nails biting into my shoulders, grounding herself…grounding me. I could feel her everywhere, the rapid pulse of her heartbeat, the tension slowly unraveling inch by inch.
And then she moved.
Just a fraction. Just enough to roll her hips, to grind down on me like she wasn’t the same woman begging for mercy seconds ago.
A curse fell from my lips as my head dropped to her shoulder, my control slipping dangerously. “Baby…” My voice came out rough, strained. “You’re so tight. It feels like you’re milking my cock for my cum.”
Her lips brushed my ear, teasing. “I am.”
I snapped my hips into hers, once, hard enough to knock the air from her lungs. Her moan shattered between us.
“Fuck,” I snarled, dragging her hips down to meet the next thrust, deeper, meaner, punishing. “I’m losing every fucking bit of sanity here.”
She bit my shoulder. “Join the club.”
A rough laugh tore from my throat.
One hand tangled in her hair, I yanked her head back, baring the line of her throat. My other hand slid between us, thumb pressing down and rubbing tight, vicious circles against her clit.
A low, broken whimper slipped from her lips, and it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.
“Be a good girl for me, Nightcrawler,” I growled against her skin, lips dragging along her jaw. “Let me fuck you until you forget your own name.”
A shiver ran through her, and I felt it everywhere. Was it the praise—or every filthy word I fed her?
“Whatever you want,” she whispered, her pussy soaked.
I dragged my teeth along her throat, to hear her gasp, to feel her clench around me. “Your tight little cunt barely fits around me, baby,” I murmured, voice low and rough. “But look at you—taking it so well.”
She moaned, loud. Filthy words clearly not a turn off.
I pulled back a little, then drove my dick hard into her again.
“Look down, baby,” I ordered, my voice edged with something dark and commanding. “Look at me stretching you. Filling you with my cock.”
She murmured something incomprehensible, her eyes unfocused, glazed with lust and desire.
Godsdamnit, I needed her to look at me like this every fucking second of every fucking day.
“You’re such a good girl,” I murmured, thrusting deep. “Letting me use this perfect little body to get off. Giving me exactly what I want.”
Her walls clenched around my cock.
She was getting off on it. Every bit of it.
The praise, the control, the way I owned her.
I growled, thrusted hard, then slapped her clit again. Her wetness gushed over my cock, slick and hot and fucking perfect.
“I knew it,” I gritted, barely holding on. “I knew you liked some pain with your pleasure. You’re soaking me, fucking drowning my cock.”
I slapped her clit once more, hard enough to make her jolt. Her whole body jerked, then bucked into me like she didn’t know whether to fight or come apart.
“You’re mine Emma.”
Slap. Thrust.
“You.”
Slap. Thrust.
“Are.”
Deep thrust.
“Mine.”
“Yes!” she cried, the sound breaking out of her, and I lost the last of my restraint, driving into her harder, faster.
She clenched around me—tight, pulsing, desperate—and it took everything I had not to come on the spot. She was unraveling beneath me, and I was feral for it.
When I pulled out, she whimpered—soft, wrecked—and I flipped her onto her stomach. Her body moved willingly, pliant and perfect.
I licked her spine, top to bottom, reveling in the taste of her slick sweat. Mine, mine, mine. All fucking mine.
Then I dragged her hips back up, one hand braced between her shoulder blades as I bent her down, ass in the air.
“Look at you,” I gritted out, eyes locked on the wet mess she’d made. “Your cunt’s glistening. It’s beautiful. All of this, for me.”
I fisted her hair, yanked her head back just enough to make her gasp, then pressed the tip of my cock back to her entrance.
“Say it,” I growled, mouth at her jaw, breath hot. “Say who you belong to.”
She moaned something kind of sounding like my name.
I smacked her ass. “Now, Nightcrawler.”
“You,” she gasped. “I belong to you, Caden.”
“That’s right.” My voice cracked on the edge of something wild, something that had no intention of letting her go. “And I’m never letting you go.”
Then I shoved my cock back into her—deep—claiming what was already mine.
She yelled out my name.
My hips pounded into hers—hard, punishing—each thrust a brand. A mark. A fucking claim. Her cries had lost all shape now, unraveling into raw, broken sounds that made my cock twitch deeper inside her.
She was close. So fucking close.
Gods, I needed to watch her come.
I pulled out to flip her onto her back again, then drove back into her with a growl. “Eyes on me, baby. And scream my name when you come.”
Her body moved on instinct—desperate, greedy—fucking herself onto my cock like she needed it to breathe.
I felt it in the way she tightened around me, in how her nails raked down my chest, frantic and unfiltered.
Her back arched. Her legs locked around my waist. Her mouth opened, silent.
I slapped her clit again.
Then I sucked her right nipple into my mouth, hard enough to make her gasp.
Another slap. Then I claimed the left, biting down hard enough to leave my mark.
And then, she screamed.
She came apart around me, pulsing tight and wet, and I didn’t stop. I fucked her through it— relentlessly—every muscle in my body pulled taut, breath ragged, mind wrecked by how completely she undid me without even trying.
She was mine. And there was no coming back from that.
“That’s it, baby,” I growled, driving harder, chasing the edge. “You’re fucking perfect.”
And then—right as she fell apart—I slammed in one final time and let go, groaning as I spilled inside her, coating her clenching walls with everything I had.
Emma lay in my arms, her breathing uneven, skin slick with heat against mine.
Fucking. Bliss.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The room still hummed with the echo of what had just happened. Every sound felt magnified, fragile, like the world itself was holding still to let us exist.
“You’re staring,” she murmured after a while, still a little breathless.
“Yeah,” I said, brushing a damp strand of hair from her cheek. “Trying to figure out if this is real. If you’re real.”
Her lips curved faintly. “Pretty sure I am.”
I smiled, too dazed to form anything clever. Just…watching her. The way her lashes fluttered when she blinked, the small, contented sigh she didn’t realize she made.
“You talk a lot during sex,” she said suddenly, her tone warm and hoarse.
I barked out a quiet laugh. “Didn’t exactly seem like you minded.”