24
Easton
“Yeah,” I said, my voice rough. “I am.”
I kissed her.
This wasn’t like before. Not the angry, punishing kiss in my apartment. Not the desperate, hungry reclamation in her kitchen. This was something else. Slower. Deeper. A conversation without words.
I poured everything into it. The love that felt too big for my body.
The fear of losing her again—of failing.
The awe that she was here, letting me in, trusting me with the broken parts.
The rage, transformed now, not gone, but channeled into this—into worship, into possession, into a promise written with my tongue against hers.
She moaned into my mouth, a soft, yielding sound, and her hands came up to frame my face. Her thumbs stroked my jaw, and the tenderness of it wrecked me.
I broke the kiss, breathing hard, my forehead resting against hers. “I need you to hear me.”
Her eyes fluttered open, dark and searching. “I’m listening.”
“You are mine.” The words came out raw, stripped bare.
“Not like property. Not like a trophy. Mine like… my heart beats in your chest. Mine like I don’t know where I end and you begin anymore.
Mine like if the world tries to take you again, I will burn it down around us and carry you through the ashes. ”
A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, tracing a path into her hairline. “Easton.”
“Say it,” I growled, my hand sliding into her hair, careful of her braids. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.” Her voice was a whisper, then stronger. “I’m yours. Only yours.”
A sound ripped from my throat, part groan, part prayer. I kissed her again, harder this time, my tongue plunging deep, claiming the taste of her, the feel of her. My other hand swept down her body, over the smooth plane of her stomach, the dip of her navel, lower.
She was already wet for me. Soaked. The evidence of her want, her trust, her surrender met my fingertips and sent a jolt of pure, possessive heat straight to my cock.
“Fuck, Aura,” I breathed against her lips. “Look what you do to me. What I do to you.”
I slid a finger inside her slowly, watching her face. Her lips parted on a silent gasp, her eyes squeezing shut. She was tight, hot, clenching around me instinctively.
“Look at me,” I commanded, my voice low and rough.
Her eyes opened, hazy with pleasure.
“That’s it,” I murmured, crooking my finger, finding that spot inside her that made her back arch off the mattress.
“See? This is mine. This heat. This wet. This perfect, tight cunt clutching my finger like it’s afraid I’ll leave.
I’m not leaving. I’m going to be here, buried inside you, reminding you who you belong to, until neither of us can remember a time before this. ”
Her hips rocked against my hand, a desperate, involuntary rhythm. “East… please…”
“Please what, sweetheart?” I added a second finger, stretching her, feeling her body give way for me. “Use your words. Tell me what you need.”
“I need you.” Her voice was broken, pleading. “I need you inside me. Now.”
“How?” I pressed, scissoring my fingers, watching her writhe. “How do you want me?”
“I don’t care. Just… fill me. Claim me. Make me feel it.”
That was all I needed.
I withdrew my fingers, bringing them to my mouth and sucking them clean, never breaking eye contact. Her taste exploded on my tongue—sweet, musky, uniquely her. “Mine,” I growled around my fingers.
I shifted between her legs, pushing them wider with my knees. I didn’t enter her yet. I just held myself there, the head of my cock nudging against her soaked entrance, teasing us both.
Her chest was heaving, her nails digging into my shoulders. “Easton, I swear—”
“You swear what?” I dropped my head, kissing the frantic pulse at the base of her throat. “Tell me.”
“If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to murder you.”
A dark laugh rumbled in my chest. “That’s my girl.”
And I drove into her.
One long, deep, relentless thrust, burying myself to the hilt.
The feeling was catastrophic. The slick, hot, velvet vise of her body sheathing me completely, the broken, sobbing cry that tore from her lips, the way her legs locked around my hips, pulling me deeper.
I saw stars. My vision whited out at the edges.
For a second, I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, could only feel the overwhelming rightness of being inside her, connected, home.
“Oh, fuck,” I choked out, my forehead falling to her shoulder. “Aura… fuck…”
She was trembling beneath me, her inner muscles fluttering and clenching around me in rhythmic pulses. “You feel… you feel so big. So deep.”
I lifted my head, finding her eyes. They were wide, dazed, full of tears and wonder. “Look at me,” I said again, my voice shaking with the effort to hold still. “Look at me while I’m inside you. See who you belong to.”
“I see you,” she whispered, her hands sliding up to cup my face. “I see you, East.”
My control snapped.
I began to move.
Slow at first, long, grinding strokes that dragged every inch of me against every sensitive part of her. I wanted her to feel it all. The stretch. The fullness. The friction. I wanted her to memorize the shape of me inside her.
Her breath came in sharp, ragged gasps, matching my rhythm. “Yes… just like that… oh, yes…”
“Tell me,” I gritted out, my hips pistoning faster now, the slap of skin on skin joining the rhythm of the rain. “Tell me who this belongs to.”
“You!” she cried out, her head thrashing on the pillow. “It’s yours, it’s always been yours!”
“Damn right it has.” I hooked my arms under her knees, pushing her legs back toward her shoulders, opening her even wider, sinking impossibly deeper. The new angle made her scream, a raw, unfiltered sound of pleasure that went straight to my dick.
I was losing it. The sight of her, spread out and taking me so completely, the sounds she was making, the feel of her—it was too much. But I wasn’t going to come yet. Not until she did. Not until I’d wrung every last shudder, every last cry, from her body.
I leaned down, capturing a peaked, dusky nipple in my mouth, sucking hard, flicking my tongue over the tip.
“Easton!” she shrieked, her back bowing off the bed.
I switched to the other, biting down gently, then soothing with my tongue. My hips never stopped, a hard, driving rhythm that was turning her cries into a continuous, pleading moan.
“I can feel you,” I groaned against her breast. “I can feel you getting tighter. You gonna come for me, sweetheart? Gonna come on my cock?”
“Yes… yes, I’m close, I’m so close…”
“Let me hear you.” I lifted my head, locking my eyes with hers. Her face was flushed, her lips swollen, tears tracking from the corners of her eyes. Beautiful. Destroyed. Mine. “I want to hear you scream my name when you shatter.”
I reached between us, my thumb finding her clit, swollen and throbbing. I pressed down in firm, rapid circles, matching the pace of my thrusts.
That was it.
Her eyes flew wide, her mouth opening in a silent scream for a second before the sound ripped free.
“Easton!”
Her body convulsed around me, a violent, clenching wave of pleasure that milked my cock perfectly. I watched her fall apart, felt her inner walls fluttering and gripping me, and it was the most beautiful, devastating thing I’d ever seen.
I couldn’t hold back any longer.
With a guttural roar, I drove into her one last time, deep, deep, as deep as I could go, and let go.
My release erupted, hot and endless, pumping into her, claiming her in the most primal way possible.
My hips jerked through the pulses, my whole body shaking with the force of it, my vision tunneling until all I could see was her face, blissed out and peaceful beneath me.
I collapsed, barely catching my weight on my elbows, shuddering as the last aftershocks rolled through me. I was still buried inside her, our bodies slick with sweat, joined, breathing in ragged unison.
For a long time, there was no sound but the rain and our panting breaths.
Slowly, carefully, I rolled us to our sides, pulling her with me so I wouldn’t crush her. I stayed inside her, unwilling to break the connection just yet. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight against my chest, my face buried in her hair.
Her fingers traced lazy patterns on my back.
“You okay?” I mumbled into her braids.
She made a soft, contented sound. “Mmm. Define ‘okay.’ I think my soul left my body for a minute there.”
A tired smile touched my lips. “Mine too.”
“Good.” She tilted her head back to look at me. Her eyes were soft, sated, full of a love so deep it made my chest hurt. “That was… different.”
“Yeah.”
“Not angry.”
“No.”
“Protective,” she whispered. “Intense. Filthy.” A small smile. “Very, very romantic.”
I kissed her forehead. “You’re the only person who would call that romantic.”
“I’m the only person who gets to see it.” She snuggled closer, her ass pressing against my hips. “So it’s romantic to me.”
I held her tighter, breathing her in. The rage was still there, a quiet ember in the dark. The fear for my future, a cold knot in my stomach. The memories of her pain, a shadow in the corner of the room.
But right here, right now, with her warm and pliant in my arms, our scents mingled, our hearts slowing to the same rhythm, none of that could touch us. We were in a world of our own making, built from rain and lamplight and the raw, unvarnished truth between us.
“I love you,” I said into the quiet.
She turned in my arms, facing me, her nose brushing mine. “I love you too, East.”
And for the first time in a long, long time, the name didn’t feel like a weapon. It felt like a promise. Like a home.
I kissed her softly, slowly, a seal on the vow.
The rain kept falling, washing the world clean outside. In here, we were just beginning.