Chapter 7
seven
. . .
Clara
"Yes," I gasp, the word barely audible over the pounding of my heart.
"Yes, I'm sure. I want to be yours." The declaration breaks something open inside me—fear and desire and certainty all colliding at once.
I've never wanted anything more in my life than I want this man, this moment.
His eyes darken impossibly further, something primal and possessive flashing in their depths.
Then he moves, and the world tilts on its axis.
He hauls me into his arms like I weigh nothing, one arm under my thighs, the other around my waist. His mouth crashes down on mine in a kiss that steals my breath—urgent, claiming, devouring. I cling to his shoulders, my fingers digging into hard muscle as he carries me through the penthouse.
"You're mine," he growls against my lips, the words vibrating through me. "Mine."
The bedroom is a blur of masculine colors and sleek furniture, dominated by an enormous bed. He sets me on my feet beside it, his large hands framing my face, tilting it up to his.
“No more chances to change your mind," he says, his voice strained with restraint.
In answer, I reach for the straps of my dress, pushing them down my shoulders. The white fabric slithers down my body, pooling at my feet. I stand before him in just my simple white bra and panties, trembling not with fear but with anticipation.
His eyes rake over me, hot and possessive. "Fuck," he breathes. "Look at you."
I should be embarrassed. Should cover myself. Instead, I feel powerful under his hungry gaze. Beautiful. Desired.
His hands reach for me, large and sure, unclasping my bra with practiced ease. As it falls away, exposing my breasts to the cool air, I fight the urge to cover myself. His eyes darken further, nostrils flaring.
"Perfect," he murmurs, cupping the weight of them in his palms. His thumbs brush over my nipples, sending shocks of pleasure straight to my core. I gasp, arching into his touch.
He backs me toward the bed until my legs hit the edge. Then he drops to his knees, hands sliding down my sides to hook in my panties. He looks up at me as he slowly drags them down, his eyes never leaving mine. The intimacy of it—this powerful man on his knees before me—makes me dizzy.
When I'm completely naked, he just looks for a long moment. I should feel exposed, vulnerable. Instead, I feel worshipped.
"Look how wet this virgin pussy is for me already," he says, his voice rough with desire.
Before I can process his words, his hands push my thighs apart and his mouth is on me—hot, wet, insistent. I cry out, my knees buckling. He catches me, guiding me to sit on the edge of the bed as he settles between my spread legs.
"Sabien—" His name tears from my throat as his tongue finds my center, lashing against a spot that makes stars explode behind my eyelids.
Nothing has ever felt like this. Not my own hesitant touches in the darkness of my apartment. Not the fumbling kisses of college boys. This is…transcendent. His tongue circles and flicks, his hands holding my thighs open as he devours me like a starving man.
My fingers find his hair, tangling in the thick strands. "Please—" I don't even know what I'm begging for.
He knows. His mouth fastens around that sensitive bundle of nerves as one large finger slides inside me, stretching, exploring. The dual sensation makes me arch off the bed, a high keening sound escaping me.
"So tight," he growls against my flesh. "So perfect."
The pressure builds, coiling tighter and tighter in my belly. Something enormous is gathering, racing toward me like a freight train. I'm scared of it. Desperate for it.
"Sabien—something's happening—I can't—"
"Let go, baby," he commands, adding a second finger, stretching me wider. "Come for Daddy."
The crude endearment should shock me. Instead, it triggers the explosion.
I shatter, crying out his name as waves of pleasure crash through me.
My body convulses, clenching around his fingers, thighs trying to close around his head.
He holds me open, working me through it, extending the pleasure until it borders on too much.
When I collapse back, boneless and gasping, he rises from his knees. His face is wet with me, his eyes wild. He strips efficiently, tearing at buttons and zippers until he stands naked before me.
My eyes widen. He's…enormous. Thick and long and intimidating. How will it possibly fit?
He sees my expression and smiles, predatory and reassuring all at once. "Don't worry, little one. You'll stretch for me."
He moves over me, positioning himself between my spread thighs. I feel the blunt head of him pressing against my entrance, hot and insistent.
"Look at me," he commands.
I obey, meeting his intense gaze.
"This will hurt," he warns. "But then it will feel good. So good, baby."
I nod, bracing myself.
"Gonna fill you up," he murmurs, beginning to push forward. "Breed this tight little cunt."
The crude words make me gasp, my body clenching in response. He presses in slowly, the pressure immense, bordering on pain. When he meets resistance—proof of my innocence—he pauses, brushes hair from my face with surprising tenderness.
"Mine," he whispers. Then he thrusts—deep, stretching me impossibly wide.
Pain blooms, sharp and burning. I cry out, tears springing to my eyes. He stills, allowing me to adjust, his body trembling with the effort of restraint.
"Breathe," he says, his voice strained. "Relax for me."
I try, focusing on his face above me, the pleasure evident there. Gradually, the pain recedes, replaced by a feeling of fullness, of rightness.
"That's it,"
"That's it," he praises, withdrawing slightly before pushing back in. "Fuck, so tight. My good girl. Take Daddy's cock."
The crude words should offend me, but they don't. They ignite something primal inside me, something that wants to be claimed, possessed, owned completely by this man.
He begins to move in earnest now, each thrust driving deeper than the last. The pain transforms, melting into pleasure so intense it steals my breath. My body yields to him, opening, accepting, welcoming his invasion.
"Mine," he groans, driving into me with controlled power. "All mine."
His rhythm increases, hips snapping against mine. The sound of flesh meeting flesh fills the room, punctuated by my gasps and his deep groans. One large hand slides beneath my hips, tilting them upward, changing the angle until he hits something inside me that makes me cry out.
"There it is," he says, satisfaction heavy in his voice. "That's where you need me, isn't it?"
"Yes," I gasp, clutching at his shoulders, his back, anywhere I can reach. "Please, Sabien—"
"Please what?" He slows deliberately, making me whimper. "Tell me what you need."
I've never said such things before, never even thought them. But they spill from my lips without hesitation. "Please don't stop. Please…harder."
A feral smile spreads across his face. "Good girl."
He pounds relentlessly, each thrust precise and devastating. The pressure builds again, faster this time, more intense. His hand snakes between us, thumb finding that sensitive bundle of nerves, circling it in time with his thrusts.
Filthy words spill from his mouth, a steady stream of possession and praise. "Going to come inside you. Put my baby right here." His free hand splays across my lower belly, pressing down so I can feel him even deeper. "Fill this perfect little pussy with my come. Make you mine forever."
The explicit promise pushes me over the edge. I shatter screaming his name, walls clenching rhythmically around his thickness. The pleasure is blinding, consuming, obliterating everything but the sensation of him inside me, claiming me, completing me.
He follows immediately, his rhythm faltering as he drives in deep one final time. I feel him pulse inside me, flooding me hot and deep, marking me from within. He groans my name like a prayer, his powerful body shuddering above me.
"Mine," he whispers against my throat, hips still moving gently, working his release deeper inside me. "Forever."
Forever.