Chapter 23 #2
"Mine," she repeats, her voice shaky, but it's not because of uncertainty. Her body’s acting in tune with her mind, and it's preparing to show her what being mine really means.
My cock twitches, as her walls contract. She's on the brink. But I still can’t get enough of hearing her. "Don't stop. I want to hear you say it until your voice is raw. I want you to believe it."
"Mine," she whimpers, her hips keep chasing the orgasm. But I won't let her have it—not yet. Even if I'm not sure I can prevent it for much longer, with my piercing grinding inside her so deep I'm starting to think it’ll get lost down there.
"Mine," she cries a few more times, voice higher pitched now, as I feel her spasm all around my cock so tightly that I can barely keep myself from cumming. She can barely move, but I won't let her rest.
"Say it..." I demand, as she almost collapses against my chest from the orgasm that’s rippling through her.
"Set," she cries out my name as her hips still manage to move, but much slower, both her strength and my voice almost dying.
"Yours, Set... yours," she breathes in surrender like a dying swan’s last song.
She must be tripping if she thinks I'm gonna let her die on me—or quit on me just yet.
But I just can't keep control any longer. "You can't start a hurricane and hope it won't blow you away," I say as my fingers finally let go of the fucking couch, and dive for her hips, forcing them to move against me.
She lifts her head from my chest and looks at me in confusion.
She just signed up for this, so I don't owe her an explanation. I just rip the fucking dress off her the way I've been wanting to do all night. I've been dying to see her naked ever since she straddled me. I feel like I’ve just been released after serving a life sentence in prison—and last twenty minutes have been pure fucking torture. But it’s over now. I’m free. Free to finally take what’s mine.
I watch her blue eyes, and catch a trail of anxiety in them. She knows I won’t stop now. And to be honest, I don’t know when I’ll be able to.
Every muscle in my body flexes, focusing solely on her hips and how I need to keep them moving against me—relentlessly, sensually—taking the very last drop of me and making it her own.
My fingers slip between the honey-blonde locks of hair, gently fisting the roots until I hear a soft purr.
She likes it, but I don’t settle for just that, my grip goes stronger, and I pull until the soft purrs convert into a moan.
The slight pain excites her. The rhythm of her breathing changes to delirium, and I know just where to take things.
I want her so far gone she won’t even know who she is anymore.
But I also want her to trust me, and for that, I need to push her right over the edge.
My grip never loosens, and I feel her still trying to ride me, even if her legs start to give out.
Fuck, I hope I can keep my control. Yet with every sway of her hips, the chances of doing that are further away.
I pull even tighter, the pain making her pussy swallow me whole.
And I let go of her hips, my hand sliding up her stomach.
She’s vibrating, and the movement against my fingers is intoxicating.
Still, I’m not in the right place yet, so my hand glides up over her breast, and I can’t help but squeeze—just hard enough to hear another moan out of her.
I could stay there for a few minutes, but I want more—so much more, the mere thought makes me anxious.
So, I go further until I reach the base of her fragile neck.
Such a fine line between life and death, and I can’t help from cross it.
“Look at me.” My voice a command, yet her eyes are drifting in the haze building around her.
“I said, look at me,” I repeat, and instantly notice her eyes snap back into focus.
She knows better than to make me repeat myself.
I let it slide this time because what I’m planning to do with her is far more alluring than giving her a lesson in manners.
“Raise your hand if it gets too much,” I tell her, and I can see the fear in her eyes growing exponentially.
But there’s something more there—a flicker of excitement. She’s intrigued.
Oh, how she’s gonna love this.
My fingers tighten, feeling that fine vein pulse beneath them, knowing I have her life in my hands—the most precious thing on this earth. And I squeeze gently—just for her to know what’s gonna happen next.
Panic kicks in, and her palms press against the center of my chest. “Easy, no sudden movements,” I warn as I start moving from beneath her—slowly—so she can get accustomed to the sensation of being entirely at my mercy.
She fights to draw in air, and I let her—just enough to fill her lungs.
But the second she’s done, my grip tightens.
Her eyes widen almost in shock as a flood of sensations overtakes her body.
I know exactly what she’s going through.
In moments like these, everything else fades, and you can only focus on the movement, the grinding, the thrusts echoing inside your body, taking your orgasm to a whole different level.
That kind of connection can’t be replaced.
Nothing compares to that sensation. Nothing rivals the bond it creates.
I let her take in a small breath, just enough to keep her from fainting. Her gaze is dazed, not by fear this time, but from the sheer intensity of the pleasure running through her.
Her moans turn into cries, fighting to save her breath as my cock forges deeper, making her give out the last drops of air from her lungs as she tries to deal with the demolishing force that’s now overruling the reactions of her body.
She’s almost in shock when she comes, her inner walls gripping me so tightly that it nearly drives me wild.
She doesn’t have to raise a hand. I loosen my grip before I leave her unconscious.
The intensity, so unpredictable that she stares at me in stunned silence.
I release her neck, letting her gulp in all the air she can.
My hands return to her hips and increase the speed at which they’re moving against me.
The control I just had over her almost blinded me for a second, but it’s something I’ve needed for far too long. There will be a next time—and a next. Still, the rush is so empowering that I need to pace myself—just to make sure I’m not the one losing it.
Her body’s going limp against me as I feel another riptide wave of orgasm crash through her. Her breath goes from hitched to barely there, as I keep moving her—weightless as a feather—without giving her a second’s rest because I don’t know if I’ll ever get enough of her.
“Set,” she breathes, almost in a plea, as her lips crash against mine, stealing my breath as if she claims my lips to keep conscious.
I snarl, my frustration obvious because I don’t know for how long we can keep going without her dying on me. Her body trembles, wracked by orgasm after orgasm. My name slips from her lips, almost delirious, her eyes staring back at me as if in a haze.
Her round breasts are pressed against my chest, lips barely parting as moans keep dying on her lips. She’s spent, and I’m not even sure it’s just because of all the sex. I think it’s also because she had to give me everything she had tonight—herself included.
I need to let go too, before I hurt her.
My fingers find their way between the curtain of her hair, grabbing the roots and forcing her to look at me.
I want to see her as she comes again. I want to watch her as my pleasure will match her own.
But most of all, I want her to know she can no longer hide. “You’re mine, because you want to be.”
No more lies between us. No more lying to herself.
I’m just setting her free to live the moment—to feel everything.
And as if hearing my deepest desire, she doesn’t wait to deliver.
The fear, the anger, the resistance—it’s all gone.
All there’s left is only raw pleasure. Her hips roll a few more times, knees digging into the couch, when I feel that tight, burning sensation taking hold of me.
And I let it go, just as long, broken gasp vibrates from her throat, and my cock spasms in perfect rhythm with her pussy.
It’s just purely bliss from there on, and I swear I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as she is in this moment.
Broken but whole. Saint but sinner. Hers—but also mine.
Her body weight collapses onto mine, but I barely feel it.
It’s comforting—a feeling I never thought I wanted.
Her breath is still ragged, and I know if I’d kept up for a few more minutes, she would’ve ended up unconscious.
Not making any promises we won’t get there eventually. But for now, she needs baby steps.
I don’t even withdraw, just keep her there half asleep, unwilling to break the moment.
I feel a few of her fingers twitching weakly against my neck as mine dance in her hair. I know her eyes are closed by now, even if she hasn’t climbed off me. And if she falls asleep like this, I’ll let her. I’ll stay buried inside her through this morning—and the next.
There’s no going back from this, no matter what she says, no matter what she does. Everything changes from this moment forward. I’m no longer the Set I used to be. I’m starting to think I haven’t been him for a while now. But I am the Set she needs. The one meant to be with her.