Chapter 36
Aran
Iwake before she does.
It’s late morning. The light through the curtains is high and bright. She’s on her stomach beside me, one arm under her pillow, one leg pushed out from under the sheet. Her hair is across her face. Her mouth is slightly open. She hasn’t moved in hours.
I lie there and look at her.
She survived it. That’s the fact that keeps arriving fresh. She walked into that flat and walked out of it. Now she’s in our bed with her face soft, her breathing even, and whatever cost this was going to take from her, it hasn’t come to collect yet. I’ll watch for it. I’ll catch it when it does.
But right now, she’s here. Fucking mine. That knowledge burns in my chest like whiskey.
She shifts. Her hand slides across the mattress, searching blindly until she finds my hip. A soft exhale, and her face turns into my shoulder.
When her eyes open, green, sleep-heavy, she just stares, making sure I’m real. I don’t speak. Neither does she.
I roll toward her, careful at first. Her answer is immediate, with her hand sliding to my lower back, pulling me against her, mouth already seeking mine.
I kiss her hard. My hand fists in her hair, yanking her head back to expose her throat. The sound she makes when I bite the hollow beneath her jaw makes my cock throb. Her nails dig into my back. Good. Let her mark what’s hers.
I rip my t-shirt off her body. Her skin is hot, nipples already hard. I grip her thighs, spreading her legs wider as I settle between them. She’s beneath me, wet and ready.
Mine to take.
I move down her body. Not gentle. Not asking. My teeth graze her throat, bite her collarbone. She arches up, and I slam her hip back down with one hand. Mine. I taste every inch of her. The parts I’ve had before, the parts I haven’t. All mine now.
She pulls my hair hard enough to hurt.
My name is still there on her hip, carved in when I marked what belonged to me. I drag my tongue over it. Her breath catches. I bite down on it. Harder.
Her hips buck as she cries out. I force them back to the mattress.
I spread her thighs wide. She’s soaked already, panting, trying to direct me where she wants my mouth. I ignore her. She’s not in charge here. She whimpers when I bite the inside of her thigh, leaving another mark.
When I finally taste her, the sound she makes is fucking filthy.
I don’t let up. Not when she begs. Not when her thighs shake against my shoulders. Not until she comes hard, screaming my name like a confession.
I kiss my mark on her hip again and move up her body.
She looks destroyed. Exactly how I want her.
I settle between her legs. She reaches for my cock, and I almost lose it at her touch.
She guides me to her pussy, her fingers cool against my burning skin.
I let her have that much control. But my eyes never leave her face, drinking in every flicker of emotion crossing those green irises. I want to see what I do to her.
I push into her slowly. All the way. She doesn’t blink. Her mouth parts on a small breath, pink lips glistening in the morning light. Her hand leaves me and goes around the back of my neck, fingers digging in, holding me above her like I’m hers.
I don’t close my eyes.
Neither does she.
I move slowly at first. Deep. Controlled.
Every stroke measured, watching her face for the shift, the subtle widening of her pupils, the flush creeping up her neck.
I feel her body give way to mine in the way she adjusts, accommodates.
Her pussy is tight around me, hot and swollen from her first orgasm, slick heat gripping me until I think she’s going to break me.
It’s taking every ounce of control I have not to bury myself in her and stay there forever.
Her hand fists in my hair, nails scraping my scalp.
I move faster, the bed frame creaking beneath us.
Her breathing fractures, desperate gulps of air punctuated by filthy curses that make my cock throb harder.
I grip her thigh, hoist it higher, spreading her wider for me.
The new angle drives me deeper, hitting that spot that makes her cunt clench around me like a vise.
She lets out a sound so raw and animal, I know I’ll get hard just remembering it years from now.
She’s dripping for me, slick heat coating my balls with each thrust. Her nails tear into my skin, drawing blood as she marks me. I can feel her pussy starting to pulse, those telltale contractions that mean she’s about to come apart.
I slam into her harder, sweat running down my spine, muscles burning. I don’t give her mercy. I give her what she needs. Her eyes stay locked on mine, pupils blown with lust. When she comes, her cunt grips me tight, milking me, demanding everything.
That’s what breaks me. Not just the grip of her orgasm. Those defiant eyes, even as she surrenders everything.
I come with a growl against her mouth, flooding her, claiming her from the inside. My fingers dig bruises into her hip that she’ll press tomorrow to remember this. She holds my face with trembling hands, her thighs locked around me like she’s afraid I’ll pull out before she’s taken every drop.
Sweat-slick and panting, I stay buried in her heat. Her cunt still pulses with aftershocks, greedy for more.
Eventually, I roll onto my back and pull her with me.
She slides across my chest, still slick with sweat, her face in my neck, breath hot against my skin.
Her hair clings to her forehead, damp tendrils framing a face flushed and marked with my stubble.
Her hand splays possessively over my heart, fingers spread like she’s claiming territory.
She lies there for a long time, thighs still trembling against mine. I feel her breathing slow, feel her pulse settle. I feel the exact moment her body goes loose and heavy against mine.
She doesn’t fall asleep. She stays present. Awake. Her teeth graze my collarbone.
My hand traces down her spine, over the curve of her ass, squeezing hard enough to make her gasp.
Her fingers trail lower on my stomach, nails scratching lightly.
The room smells of sex and sweat and her.
Nothing can touch what’s happening in this bed where she’s marked me as thoroughly as I’ve marked her.
She shifts against me, one thigh sliding between mine.
Her hand moves from my chest to my face, thumb pressing against my lower lip before pushing into my mouth.
I suck it, hard, watching her pupils dilate again.
Her thumb finds the small scar at my temple and stays there for a second.
I wonder if she’ll ask about it someday, when we’re not busy destroying each other.
She lifts her head, eyes heavy-lidded and hungry.
Her mouth is swollen from my kisses, bruised from my teeth. Her hair is a wild tangle from my fists. She is the filthiest, most beautiful thing I have ever seen, and the only word I have for any of it is mine.
She doesn’t say anything. Just rolls her hips against my thigh, already wet again.
I grab her ass and pull her harder against me.
She lowers her head and bites my chest. I’m already hard again, ready for her.
I feel her teeth sink deeper into my skin, the sting sending a fresh wave of heat straight to my cock.
She knows what she’s doing, using her body to drive me fucking feral.
Her thigh rubs against my balls, pressure building with each deliberate grind.
She’s not just taking what she wants; she’s demanding it, using me like I use her.
And fuck if that doesn’t make me even harder.
I tangle my hand in her hair, yanking her head back so she’s forced to look at me.
Her eyes are wild, fierce. She licks her lips, a slow, defiant swipe of her tongue.
I want to bite it, suck it into my mouth, taste her resistance.
Her hand wraps around my cock, squeezing just shy of pain. It’s a challenge, a gauntlet thrown.
“Think you’re in control, don’t you?” I growl, tightening my grip on her hair. Her eyes narrow, but she doesn’t fight me. She knows better. She knows who’s really in charge here.
“I know I am,” she whispers, voice hoarse from screaming my name.
She strokes me. Her grip is confident, her strokes sure and steady.
She knows exactly how to touch me, how to make me want to fucking destroy her.
I can see it in her eyes—she’s daring me to take control, to show her who’s boss. And I’m ready to remind her.
I move quickly, flipping her onto her back. She gasps, but her eyes stay locked on mine, that spark still burning bright. I pin her wrists above her head with one hand, my other hand gripping her chin, forcing her to look at me.
“You’re mine,” I growl. “Every fucking part of you. Your body knows it. Your pussy knows it.”
She grinds against my cock.
I put my mouth against her ear. “Keep doing that, and I’ll tie your hands to the fucking headboard.”
Her breath catches. Not fear. Want. Always that with her. It hits me low and hard.
She does it again on purpose, a slow roll of her hips, looking straight at me like she wants the fight as much as the finish. Christ.
I release her wrists just long enough to catch both of them in one hand and slam them into the mattress above her head again.
My other hand slides down her stomach, rough, possessive, taking my time just to make her wait.
Her whole body goes tight under me. She’s trying not to make a sound. Trying not to give me the satisfaction.
I press my forehead to hers.
“Go on,” I say quietly. “Act hard.”
Her chest rises fast. “I don’t have to act.”
“No.” I kiss her once, brutal and brief. “You never do.”
I let go of her chin and take her throat instead, not enough to hurt, enough to remind. Her pulse jumps against my palm. Her eyes darken. I feel her swallow. I feel the exact second she stops pretending this isn’t what she wants.
Then I give her my cock again, one hard push that knocks the breath out of her.
Her back arches off the bed. A broken sound tears from her throat. I keep my hand on her neck, hold her there, hold her eyes on me while I drive into her again.
And again.
No easing her into it now. No slow. She wanted the fight. She gets it.
The headboard cracks against the wall. Her wrists twist in my grip, not trying to get free, just needing somewhere for all that heat to go. Her thighs open wider. I feel how wet she is, how ready, how her body takes me like it was built for this.
“Eyes on me,” I say. “Always on me.”
Her face is flushed, lips parted, hair all over the pillow. I fuck her harder.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Take it.”
Her cunt clenches around me, sharp and sudden. She bites down on her lip. I drag my thumb across it, pull it free.
“No.”
A shiver runs through her. “Aran—”
“No holding back.” I thrust deep enough to make her voice break. “You come when I say. You make noise when I say.”
Her eyes flash at that. Disobedience. Need. Both at once.
She lifts her knee, hooks it around my waist, tries to drag me deeper. I let her for one stroke, then I pin her leg back to the mattress and hold it there.
She drags in a breath through her teeth, furious at being checked, turned on by it anyway. I see it in the way she stares at me. That hard look. That refusal to soften even when I’ve got her pinned under me and shaking.
I keep the pace brutal. The bed jolts under us. Her fingers fight in my grip. Her other hand catches at my wrist at her throat, not to pull me off, just to hold on. She’s gone glassy-eyed now, losing the edge under the pressure of what I’m doing to her.
I ease my hand from her neck and drag it down between us. Her pussy tightens. I know exactly where she’s at before she makes a sound. Right there. Right on the edge. Trying not to fall. Trying not to beg.
Too bad for her.
“That’s it,” I say. “You’re nearly there.”
Her head turns on the pillow. “Fuck you.”
I grip her jaw and force her back to me. “No. You look at me when I ruin you.”
Something in her gives at that. Not all the way, but enough. Enough for me to feel it.
Her stare breaks first.
It isn’t dramatic. No tears. No softness. Just that tiny split in her expression when the control goes out of it and need takes over. Her breath stutters. Her nails cut into my wrist. Her leg shakes under my hand.
I keep her jaw in my grip and drive into her harder, watching every second of it. Watching her fight it. Watching her lose.
“Say it,” I tell her.
She glares at me like she hates me for making her this open. “Fuck you.”
I give her a rough thrust that tears a cry out of her. “Try again.”
Her head presses into the pillow. I can feel how close she is. Her whole body is strung tight under me, every muscle drawn, every breath ragged. I slide my hand lower, and she jerks, a sharp sound breaking from her before she can stop it.
“Aran.”
She tries to turn her face away. I don’t let her. I keep her there and keep fucking her until her body starts giving me the truth. Her body clamps down on me so hard I nearly lose my own fucking grip.
I see it hit her before she lets it. Her eyes go wide, then unfocus. Her lips part. Her breath catches high in her chest. I keep my hand on her, ruthless, exact, and her body jerks under me.
“Don’t fucking run from it,” I say.
She makes a wrecked sound and comes apart.
It tears through her hard. No grace in it.
No restraint. Her back bows, her thighs shaking, cunt pulsing around my cock in sharp, desperate contractions that drag a curse out of me.
She tries to twist, tries to hide her face, and I hold her there through every second of it, making her take it with her eyes on mine until there’s nothing left in her but the fallout.
Then I let go of her jaw.
Her head falls back into the pillow. She drags air in like she’s been under too long. I slow down, but I don’t stop.
“Beautiful,” I say, low.
“Come inside me, Aran,” she pants. “Flood me.”
“Fuck,” I growl and slam into her harder.
I lose it.
My hand locks on her hip, and I drive into her one last time, hard enough to make the bed jump.
I come with my face in her neck, biting down to keep the sound in, my muscles pulled tight with it.
She holds on to me through all of it, legs wrapped around me, fingers dug into my back, taking what she asked for like she means to keep every part of me she can.
I stay over her, breathing hard, heart hammering against my ribs. She’s still shaking under me. I can feel it in her thighs. In the way her chest keeps rising too fast. In the little jerks that hit her when I shift inside her.
I lift my head.
Her eyes are half shut, wrecked, dazed, still fixed on me.
“Fuck,” I say, rough.
She swallows. “Yeah.”
I push her hair off her face. It sticks to her skin. Her lips are swollen. There’s a mark darkening at her throat where I had my hand. More at her chest. Her hip.
I’m all over her.
That’s exactly how it should be.