Chapter 31 #2
“I’m sure.” I kiss him, hard and demanding. “I need this. I need you to make me yours.”
That’s all the permission he needs. His mouth crashes into mine with bruising force, and all the careful gentleness from earlier disappears completely.
This is the Sebastian I know—possessive, demanding, taking what he wants without apology.
His hands fist in my hair, yanking my head back at a painful angle so he can deepen the kiss, his tongue invading my mouth, claiming it.
“Mine,” he growls against my lips. “Say it.”
“Yours.”
He lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist, and we move toward the bed.
His arms hold me tightly, and his body a solid wall of heat against mine.
“You want to be owned? Then you’re going to take exactly what I give you.
No complaining. No questioning. You’re going to be my good little wife and let me use this body however I want. Understand?”
“Yes.”
He lays me down on the bed and his hand comes up to wrap around my throat, squeezing just enough to restrict it, leaving me lightheaded and making every sensation more intense.
“Yes what?” he growls in my ear.
“Yes, Sir.” The words come out strangled, and I feel my pussy clench at the submission in my own voice.
“Better.” He keeps his hand on my throat while his other hand grabs the hem of my sweater, yanking it up and over my head.
He lets me go, and my shirt falls to the floor, my bra following, hooks breaking in his haste, and then his mouth is on my neck, biting hard enough to mark, reminding me of our first night together.
“Your whole family is in this house,” he murmurs against my skin, his hand still around my throat. “Your father, your siblings, all sleeping under this roof. And here you are, letting me strip you naked. Letting me own you. What would they think if they knew?”
The reminder should stop me. Should get me to come to my senses.
Instead, it makes everything more intense. More forbidden. More desperately necessary.
“I don’t care,” I gasp.
“You should.” He releases my throat long enough to spin me around, then both hands go to my jeans, popping the button, yanking the zipper down. “But you don’t, because all you care about right now is this.”
He pulls my jeans and panties down in one swift motion, and I kick them off. I’m completely naked while he’s still fully dressed, the power dynamic clear and absolute.
“Spread your legs for me.”
I obey, making room for him, and knowing the wrongness of it, of being naked and waiting for my husband in this room, in my father’s house, makes heat flood through me.
He stands at the foot of the bed, looking at me sprawled there, and I see pure hunger in his eyes.
“Spread your legs wider. Show me what’s mine.”
I do, slowly, watching his expression darken as I expose myself entirely to him.
“Touch yourself. Make that pussy wet for me.”
My hand moves between my legs the way it did just the night before, fingers sliding through already slick folds, and I gasp at the contact.
“That’s it. Get yourself ready. Because I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll forget your own name. Remind you that your body belongs to me. Not to you. To me. To do whatever I want with it.”
His hands go to his belt, the sound of leather and metal loud in the quiet room, and then he’s shoving his jeans down just enough to free his cock. Thick, hard, already leaking.
He climbs onto the bed, settles between my legs and grabs both my wrists in one hand, pinning them above my head.
“Keep them there. Every time you move, I stop. Understood?”
“Yes.”
He pushes into me without warning, just raw possession. I have to bite my lip hard to keep from crying out. He’s thick, and the angle is deep, and it’s almost too much.
“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re so tight.”
“Please,” I gasp.
“Please, what? Please fuck you harder? Please choke you while I use this pussy?” His free hand comes up to wrap around my throat again, squeezing, cutting off air, making spots dance in my vision. “Tell me what you want, Lennox.”
“Make me yours.” The words come out strangled. “Please, remind me of who I belong to.”
He releases my throat just enough for me to gasp in air, then squeezes again, timing it with brutal thrusts that have the bed creaking dangerously. “This pussy is mine. This body is mine. You are mine. Say it.”
“I’m yours,” I choke out.
“Louder.”
“I’m yours!”
His hand immediately clamps over my mouth, muffling the sound. “Are you fucking insane? Your whole family is here.” But he’s smiling, feral and satisfied. “Though I like that you forgot. Like that all you can think about is me inside you.”
He sets a punishing rhythm, one hand still covering my mouth, the other moving between us to find my clit. The combination of sensations, his thick cock hitting that spot inside me, his rough fingers on my clit, the restriction of not being able to make noise, is overwhelming.
“That’s it,” he groans, feeling me clench around him. “Your body knows who it belongs to. Even when you’re fighting it, even when you’re trying to convince yourself this is wrong, your pussy gets wet for me. Comes for me. Because it knows you’re mine.”
I am so close, trembling on the edge, and his hand on my mouth is the only thing keeping me from screaming.
“Touch yourself,” he orders, removing his hand from my mouth but keeping his eyes locked on mine in clear warning to stay quiet. “Make yourself come on my cock while I watch. Show me how desperate you are.”
My hand moves between us, fingers of one hand joining his on my clit, the other teasing my nipple, and the added sensation pushes me over the edge. The orgasm crashes through me in waves, my pussy clenching around him rhythmically. I fist the sheets to keep from screaming.
“That’s my perfect little wife, coming on my cock in her childhood home, being naughty.
” Sebastian’s voice is straining now, his control fraying.
His hand returns to my throat, squeezing as he thrusts harder.
“I’m going to fill this pussy. Going to mark you from the inside.
Remind you who you belong to. And don’t you ever make me wait this long to claim you again. ”
“Do it,” I beg. I can barely breathe around his grip, spots dancing in my vision again, but it just makes everything more intense.
“Fuck, Lennox.” He comes with a guttural groan, his hand tightening on my throat until the restriction pushes me into another smaller orgasm, my body milking him as he empties himself inside me.
He holds his hand there for a few seconds longer, just until my vision starts to darken around the edges, then releases. I gasp for air, shaking, overwhelmed.
“Len, are you good?” His voice is rough but genuinely concerned as he pulls out carefully.
“I don’t know.” I melt into the bed, my hand going to my throat. It will be bruised. “That’s way better than just my hand last night.”
“Mrs. Drake, did you masturbate without me?”
“Yes, I did.” I meet his gaze, smiling. “See, I was talking to my husband and we were flirting and I missed him.”
“Just so you know, I would have gladly video-called to see that,” he whispers before leaning over and kissing me.
I finally sit up and look around for my clothes, reality crashing back. “I need to get back to my room. Before anyone wakes up.”
“Lennox.”
“I need to go back to my room.” I find my panties, though my bra is destroyed, hooks broken. I pull on my jeans and sweater. “Thank you. For giving me what I needed.”
“Come here first.”
I turn back, and he pulls me into a kiss. Gentle this time, tender, and passionate, his hand cupping the back of my head.
“You’re mine,” he murmurs against my lips. “Because you chose to be mine tonight. Remember that.”
“I will.”
I slip out of the guest room, closing the door quietly behind me. The hallway is dark and silent. I tiptoe to my old room, my body still humming with sensation, my throat tender, Sebastian’s cum leaking into my panties with every step.
I climb into my childhood bed and touch my throat gently, feeling where his fingers were. It’s definitely going to bruise.
But I asked for it. Asked to be owned. And he gave me exactly what I needed. Even if I don’t fully understand why I needed it.
I never could’ve imagined this. Being bought at auction, married to a man who owns me, counting down days while trying to build something tangible from something rotten.
My phone buzzes. Sebastian.
Sebastian
Thank you for coming to me. For trusting me with what you needed.
I stare at the text for a long time before responding.
Me
Thank you for giving me what I asked for. And for not making it more than it was.
Sebastian
What was it?
Good question. What had that been? Escape? Connection? Physical need? All of the above?
Me
I don’t know, but I needed it. I needed you.
Sebastian
Then I’m glad I could give it to you. Goodnight, Len.
Me
Goodnight.
I put down my phone and stare at the ceiling, listening to the quiet, and wonder what the hell I’m doing.