Chapter 18 #4
I moan around him as he gives me as much as I can take. With each thrust, the intensity and pressure increase, and I feel every throbbing inch of him.
I’m completely at his mercy, the raw, heavy slide of his cock fucking me into submission.
There’s something so primitive about letting him use me this way, and though I’ve imagined it many times, nothing could come close.
It gets me high and fills me with a desperate hunger.
I want to know what it feels like when he loses control.
I want to taste him.
That thought urges me on, and I freefall into a weightless headspace as he tightens the chain around my neck. He fucks me harder, gripping my head roughly as his muscles tense and contract.
His breathing shallows, and I yield completely, existing in that moment solely to please him.
My surrender pushes him past the point of no return, his lips parting as his expression tips into bliss. A powerful shudder sweeps through him, and he lets out a long, agonized groan as his cock begins to pulse inside my mouth.
Hot cum spills into my throat, and I swallow it greedily, milking every last drop until he stills me.
Relaxing his grip on the chain, he palms my face, and I lean into that touch as he holds my gaze. For a long moment, we just stare at each other before his low, raspy voice fractures the silence.
“So fucking perfect.”
His approval floods me with warmth, and I soak it up like sunlight.
Using the chain as a tether, he pulls me to my feet and unclips it, letting it fall to the floor with a clatter.
Turning me in his arms, he drags me against his chest, two large palms coasting over the curves of my body. With my wrists still pinned behind my back, my head collapses against his shoulder as I close my eyes and let go.
I used to tell myself I didn’t need this kind of intimacy, but that was before I knew what it felt like to be touched by him.
With Marco, sex was just sex. He had all the finesse of a drunken frat boy who thought a woman’s body only had two worthwhile pieces of real estate.
But Bran doesn’t just touch me. He owns me. There’s so much possession in everything he does. The scrape of his fingers over my breasts. The way he squeezes and grips and brands me. It’s the perfect combination of rough and soft.
The depth of his attention is so addictive it overwhelms me with the need to satisfy the craving only he can.
I want him to lick me, spank me, toss me around, and fuck me like I’m his property. I want him to pet me, praise me, and tell me how good I feel when he’s deep inside me.
I want him heavy-handed, and I want him gentle.
I want it all.
And he knows it.
“Do you like being reminded who you belong to?” He grips my face and forces my head back until I’m looking up at him.
“Yes,” I breathe.
He takes my mouth in a bruising kiss, nipping and sucking at my lips as a low growl stirs in his throat.
He drinks me in like he’s waited an entire lifetime to taste me, and in his next breath, he seems to confirm it.
“You had every chance to escape me.” His words touch my lips. “But you didn’t. Now you’re mine.”
A shudder spills out of me as he holds my gaze, a charge electrifying the space between us.
It’s supposed to be part of the fantasy, but that declaration feels far too territorial to be anything other than real.
It feels like he’s hunted and captured me. And when he lifts me and throws me over his shoulder, I know he’s about to claim the hell out of me too.
He tosses me onto the bed, towering over me with a quiet certainty that makes my insides melt.
My gaze drags over him, mapping every inch of his frame as he removes his unbuttoned shirt and casts it aside.
This man was made for sin. Tall, broad, and packed with muscle, he leaves me little choice but to stare. There’s no question he’s worked hard for his body, and it seems the least I can do is appreciate it.
Bracing one knee on the mattress, he eases himself over me and adjusts my bracelets, securing them in front of me. Pushing my arms up overhead, he pins my wrists to the mattress and issues a gruff command.
“Spread your legs.”
My body obeys before I can even rationalize it.
This is what he does to me. He makes me want to please him, and I know nothing pleases him more than when I let go of my inhibitions entirely.
Shifting his weight, he settles his body between my thighs, the heavy length of his cock falling across my abdomen. His heat presses against me as he teases his lips along the soft dip of my inner elbow, sending a shiver through me.
Holding me captive, he grazes that sensitive area with a languid kiss, then catches the skin between his teeth and tugs.
The shock of pleasure ripples through me, and it only intensifies as he trails a path down my arm, nipping and kissing as he goes.
When he reaches my throat, the biting gets rougher, his teeth scraping over me as he sucks my skin into his mouth and tastes me.
It’s feral, territorial, and so hot, I can’t stop squirming beneath him.
I start pleading, for what, I’m not even sure. It just feels like the thing to do when he’s melting my brain.
His head dips lower, lips tracing over my collarbone before he licks my nipple and sucks my breast into his mouth.
A strangled cry lodges in my throat as I arch into him, every nerve in my body reawakening. My natural instinct is to thread my fingers through his hair, but I can’t because he has my wrists trapped. So I tip my head back and bite my lip as he continues his leisurely exploration.
Between long, slow pulls of each breast, his tongue lashes my nipples, and he bites at the delicate skin around them.
A deep, consuming ache settles between my thighs as I roll my hips, desperate for the friction of his cock. But before I can even get a good feel, he releases my wrists and reaches down, tracing the curve of my face.
“Patience, gattina.”
“Gattina?” I ask breathlessly. “What does that mean?”
He grazes my abdomen with his lips, kissing his way down my body until his head settles between my legs.
Gripping my thighs with two large palms, he spreads me open and lets out a rough sound of satisfaction as he takes me in.
“It means this pussy is mine.”
Before I can even comprehend that sentence, he dips his head and gives me a long, slow lick.
My spine bows as I shudder out a breath, and his palm presses me back into the mattress.
“Hold still and let me enjoy this,” he rasps.
When he buries his face between my thighs with a groan, I realize he means that.
He’s not just doing this to make me come. He’s tasting me like a man who’s been starving for it.
Lapping at me with slow, hungry strokes, he leaves me begging for more. But every time I even think about moving my hips, he presses me back down and continues at the pace he sets.
It’s an agonizing crawl toward release as pressure builds inside me.
It only gets more torturous when he leaves me on the edge, kissing my inner thighs and lazing around like he has all the time in the world.
His name falls from my lips on a plea, and in response, he bites and sucks that tender skin into his mouth, branding me with his teeth.
Pleasure melts through me when he soothes the sting with his tongue, only to do it all over again.
It sends a secret thrill through me knowing he’s leaving his mark. Tomorrow, when I have to walk away, I’ll have something to take with me. Something to remind me that this was real.
Sensing the shift in me, Bran pushes himself up and settles his body over mine, bracing his weight on his forearms.
A nervous flutter springs up inside me when I feel the full weight of his cock pressed against me.
Our gazes lock, and he brushes his lips against mine, breathing the words into a soft kiss.
“Ready for me, dea?”
It’s a loaded question, but I nod against him with a certainty that doesn’t waver. I want this with every fiber of my being.
He palms my face, giving me a long, slow kiss before he reaches between us and presses the head of his cock to my entrance.
As he starts to push inside, I’m grateful for all the work he did to prepare me. Because even soaking wet, there’s no question I’ll need to adjust to the enormity of his size.
He’s stretching me apart, and the intensity of so much pressure and fullness is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
Behind the mask, his eyes shutter closed, and a tremor runs through him as he sinks deeper. He’s barely even inside me, and he’s drowning in the feeling of it.
I can’t stop staring at him, and I don’t want to acknowledge this feeling, whatever it is. But it’s impossible to ignore what’s right in front of me. He’s always been so controlled, I was certain that nothing could ever destabilize him. Right now—he looks completely wrecked.
It’s hard to focus on anything else. I don’t even want to blink. But as he pushes deeper, my body clenches around him, and I suck in a sharp breath.
It feels like he’s splitting me in half, and my nerves are getting the best of me.
“Bran.” It’s the only thing I can manage to say, but it’s all I need.
He opens his eyes and settles his gaze on my face, the warmth of his assurance dissolving some of my panic.
“You’re doing so good for me, dea. Just breathe.”
I nod, and he untethers one of my bracelets so I can move my arms freely. My hands glide up over the muscular build of his shoulders, fingers pressing into him. He angles my head back and kisses a path along my jaw before he takes my mouth again.
As he deepens the kiss, my body relaxes, and he fills me completely.
Shifting his weight, he rolls his hips as he pauses to check in with me. I breathe my assurance, accepting him as he starts to move.
He slowly withdraws and thrusts back into me, letting out a groan as I scrape my nails down his back.
“Look how well you take it.” He pulls back to watch himself fuck me. “Non sai quello che mi fai.”
Those words drift through the haze of pleasure, disorienting me as I try to make sense of it.
“I don’t know Latin.” I exhale on a ragged breath.