Chapter 25 Possession
Possession
With a guttural growl, Chase flipped her onto her back, pinning her against the couch cushions, his body wrapping hers in like he was staking his claim.
His mouth crashed into hers, consuming, taking, his kiss a declaration of everything he’d been holding back. His hands roamed with wild possession—gripping, palming, sliding under her shirt to claim every inch of bare skin he could find.
Savannah arched against him, a moan slipping past her lips as his teeth scraped down her throat, sending a wicked thrill straight to her core. His hands flexed against her, pressing into her hips, his hold tight like he was barely restraining himself.
“Damn it, Savannah,” he rasped, grinding against her, the solid heat of him making her gasp. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.”
She grinned breathlessly, fingers twisting into his tank top, yanking it up and forcing him to sit back just enough to let her strip it off.
And damn.
Chase Montgomery was built for sin.
All corded muscle and carved lines, skin stretched tight over raw strength, every inch of him looking like he was sculpted for destruction. The tattoos licking up his biceps, the sharp cut of his abs leading lower—everything about him was temptation wrapped in flesh.
Savannah didn’t wait. Didn’t think. She sat up, her hands dragging over his chest, nails scratching lightly down his abdomen, feeling the way his muscles jumped beneath her touch.
Chase’s breath hitched, his fists clenching against the cushions like he was trying to anchor himself.
His gaze burned into hers, dark and heavy, daring her to keep going.
So she did.
Her lips pressed to his collarbone, her tongue gliding against his skin before she dragged it lower, slow, deliberate, mapping a path down his chest, teasing over every ridge and dip of his body.
She reached his waistline, where his abs tensed, his breath stuttered, and the thick, undeniable proof of what was restrained beneath his shorts.
She swallowed, her pulse pounding, her fingers ghosting over the hard outline of him, feeling the heat radiating through the thin material, the unmistakable proof of just how much he wanted her.
Chase let out a ragged curse, his jaw clenching so tight she thought he might break.
His head tipped back against the couch for a moment before his gaze snapped back to hers, pupils blown, hands flexing at his sides like he was seconds from grabbing her, flipping her over, and fucking her world up completely.
But he waited. Because he wanted to see what she’d do next. Holding his stare, she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his shorts, tugging them down in one smooth, deliberate motion.
Her breath staggered, while seeing him. All of him.—Heavy. Thick. Hard as sin. Savannah swallowed, her mouth flooding, her pulse thrumming at the sheer size of his cock.
And Chase?
Chase let out a shaky exhale, his head pressing back against the couch once more, his hands gripping the fabric beneath him like he was seconds away from losing his fucking mind. “Fuck,” he rasped, his voice torn, his eyes burning as he watched her.
Savannah held his gaze, her lips curling into a smirk as she wrapped her hands around his shaft, her touch deliberate—teasing.
She parted her lips, letting his cock slide into her mouth, and he snapped.
"Fuck—" ripped from his throat, his head snapping back against the couch, his fingers flexing into the fabric like she had just stolen his fucking soul.
One of her hands slid up, tracing the hard ridges of his abs while the other wrapped around him, firm and in synch with her mouth.
“Damn, Savannah…” His voice was wrecked, barely holding together. His muscles tightened beneath her hands, his thighs tensing as her tongue dragged along his length, slow and fucking deliberate.
She knew exactly what she was doing.
She hollowed her cheeks, lifted her tongue, taking him deeper, savoring the weight of his throbbing—cock on her tongue, feeling the way his body shuddered beneath her.
He was losing it. She could feel it. The way his breath tripped. The way his abs flexed so hard each time she she took him.
She worked him over, slow and twisted, dragging her tongue, pressuring his balls, setting a rhythm that had his entire body trembling.
Chase’s hands twitched, like he wanted to grab her. Like he was fighting every instinct to take control. To claim her.
But he didn’t. Not yet. He let her play, let her tease, let her fucking ruin him as she set a slow, torturous rhythm, dragging her tongue along the thick vein that pulsed against her lips.
His chest heaved, his abs flexing hard beneath her nails as she dug into him, holding him in place as she worked him over, her tongue sliding, her lips sucking, her every move calculated.
His control was slipping. Fraying at the edges. And she fucking loved it. She pulled back just enough to glance up at him, her lips wet, swollen, a wicked smile playing at the corners. “You’re shaking, Montgomery,” she taunted, voice a teasing purr. “Can’t handle it?”
His growl was raw, sinful. His darkened gaze locked onto hers.
“You want me to show you how to handle it?” he echoed, his voice rough, edged with warning.
Her mouth wrapped around him again, her tongue— circling his throbbing-cock. She threw him a wink while watching the way his body tensed, how his chest heaved, how his muscles jumped beneath her touch.
“I want to hear you say it,” he rasped, his voice dripping with challenge. “Ask me to! Beg me to show you.!
His control was gone, restraint hanging by a fucking thread, but he still needed her to give him the green light.
And she did.
She took him deep and moaned around him, teasing, her lips dragging over him slow, deep—
That was it. That was all it took. Chase snapped.
He jumps up. His hand snapped to the back of her head, fingers twisting into her hair, forcing her to take more, to take it faster.
"Is this what you wanted? Is this what you fucking wanted?" His voice, graveled. "You wanted this side of me?"
Her answer? Obvious and so fucking deliberate— She wraps her arms around his waist, pulls him in and takes him even deeper.
Chase’s grip tightened in her hair, yanking her head back just enough to expose the delicate curve of her throat. His breath was ragged, his body taut with need, but his control—his dominance—was absolute.
"You want me to stop holding back?" he growled, his voice nothing but gravel and heat against her skin. "Then listen, Savannah. From this moment on, you’re mine."
He could feel the soft slide of his cock against the hollow of her throat, the heat of her breath sending fire licking down his spine. His grip in her hair tightened, just enough to make her whimper, just enough to remind her exactly who was in control.
"Fuck, Savannah," he groaned, his body shaking beneath her. "You keep doing that, and I’m gonna make damn sure you never forget who you belong to."
Her lips parted, her eyes dark, dazed, pleading.
He looks down at her. Slowly pulls out of her mouth and grabs her cheek while one hand is still on the back of her head.. Is this what you wanted? Tell me to stop, and I will. But if you keep going–you will never be the same.
“Prove it.” She said while opening her mouth again.
She dragged her nails over his thighs, working him harder, faster, letting him feel just how much she loved making him fall apart.
His breath hitched, his grip tightening, his entire body coiling like a predator about to strike—
And then suddenly, he was moving.
Fast. Violent. Possessive.
In one fluid motion, Chase grabbed her, flipped her onto the couch, and caged her in, his big hands pinning her wrists above her head as his mouth crashed into hers.
She moaned against his lips, the taste of him still on her tongue, the heat between them scorching, dangerous, too fucking much—
And yet, not enough.
Chase’s grip on her thighs was absolute—unyielding, dominant, pure fucking control.
He didn’t rush. Didn’t fumble. Didn’t hesitate.
Because she wasn’t just his for the taking—she was his to claim.
"You think you can tease me like that?" His voice was a low, dangerous growl against her lips, his breath hot, thick with dominance.
His teeth scraped her bottom lip, punishing, possessive, before his hands dragged down her body, pushing her thighs apart, spreading her open like she was made for him.
Savannah’s breath hitched. "Maybe."
The smirk he gave her was lethal. "Then I guess it’s my turn, sweetheart."
She barely had time to register the shift before his mouth was on her throat, biting, sucking, marking. His hands held her down, fingers pressing into her skin, pinning her open beneath him. She wasn’t going anywhere.
And fuck, she didn’t want to.
"You’re already this wet?" His voice was all gravel and heat, fingers sliding beneath her shorts, teasing, barely touching, driving her insane. He pressed against her—firm, taunting—making her shudder beneath him.
"Just from sucking my cock?"
She whimpered, hips bucking, needing more, needing everything. Her hand slipped free, reaching down, fingers curling around his cock, desperate to guide him in.
Chase snatched her wrist, pinning it above her head, his body pressing her deeper into the cushions, keeping her trapped. Keeping her exactly where he wanted.
His gaze was lethal, burning straight through her. "I didn’t say you could do that, Monroe."
What the fuck. Why did just hearing him say that make her clench around nothing? Her body arched again, helpless against the heat surging through her veins.
His lips dragged along her jaw, slow, deliberate, the sharp graze of his teeth making her gasp. "You wanted this." His fingers stroked over her, pushing deeper, harder, but never enough. "You begged for it."
Savannah’s nails bit into his skin, thighs trembling, her body completely his.
"Give it to me," she breathed, voice wrecked, desperate.
Chase growled, the sound dark, feral, vibrating against her throat.
"I’ll give it to you," he gritted out. "Be a good fucking girl. Lay there and take it."
His fingers found her clit, teasing, tormenting, before plunging two fingers deep, stretching, curling, commanding.
She gasped, her back arching, moans spilling from her lips—raw, unfiltered.
He owned her.
His mouth crashed into hers, his tongue forcing past her lips as he fucked her with his fingers, each motion precise, punishing, deliberate.
His free hand slid up her body, gripping her throat, holding her exactly where he wanted her. His forehead pressed against hers, his voice low, wicked, dangerous—
"Is this what you wanted?"
Savannah sobbed out a moan, her body tightening, her pulse racing.
Chase smirked, his fingers relentless. "You want me to keep going?"
"Give it to me," she shouted, the words ripped from her chest.
His control shattered.
Chase’s fingers hit her G-spot with precision, each come here motion faster, harder, more relentless. His touch was ruthless, demanding, leaving no room for restraint.
The slick sound of his fingers moving inside her, the desperate drag of her hand gripping his arm, the raw, unfiltered moans spilling from her lips—it was all too much.
Every sharp stroke sent her closer. Sent her spiraling. Savannah writhed, shaking, breaking, the pleasure overwhelming, devastating.
"Good girl. That’s it, baby." Chase’s voice was a rasp, his breath ragged, his grip tightening. "Let go. Give it to me."
She shattered.
Her body exploded, a violent, uncontrollable release tearing through her as she gasped his name, her legs trembling, her fingers clawing into his skin.
Chase didn’t stop. Didn’t slow.
He took.
And then—