Chapter 7
NEVE
He lays me on the bed with deliberate care that steals my breath. This isn't the frantic claiming against the wall. This is different. Slower. More dangerous in ways I can't quite name when he's looking at me like I'm both prey and prize.
His weight settles beside me. One hand props his head while the other traces my collarbone with enough pressure that I feel it in my core. The shirt I borrowed rides up my thighs and his gaze follows the movement like he's memorizing the terrain.
"Last time was survival." His voice is rough. Low. The kind of tone that makes my stomach clench. "This time I'm going to learn every sound you make. And you're going to let me."
It's not a question. I nod anyway. "Yes."
"Good." His fingers move to the top button of his shirt. The one I'm wearing. "Because I plan to take my time."
He works the first button free. Then the second. Slow and methodical like he's unwrapping something precious. My breath comes faster with each button that opens. By the time he reaches the last one, I'm trembling.
"Cold?" The question carries amusement.
"You know I'm not."
"Then what are you?" He spreads the shirt open, baring me completely to his view. His hand flattens on my stomach. Warm. Possessive. "Tell me."
"Nervous." The honesty slips out before I can stop it. "Against the wall was need. Desperation. This feels like you're trying to own me."
"I am." No hesitation. No apology. Just brutal honesty delivered while his hand slides up my ribs. Stops just below my breast. Thumb stroking the underside in a way that makes me arch.
I reach for him instead of protesting. Pull him down for a kiss that's all hunger and permission. He takes over immediately. Deepens it. Controls it. His tongue explores my mouth while his hand finally cups my breast. Thumb brushing over my nipple until I'm gasping into his mouth.
He strips the shirt away completely. Leaves me bare while he's still fully clothed. The imbalance heightens everything. His jeans rough against my bare thigh. His shirt under my palms when I grip his shoulders. The way he's studying me like I'm a puzzle he's solving piece by piece.
His mouth finds the hollow of my throat first. Lips and tongue and teeth working the sensitive skin until I'm gasping. He moves lower. Takes his time with my collarbone. The curve of my shoulder. The swell of my breast.
When his mouth closes over my nipple, I cry out. The sensation shoots straight between my legs. He works the peak with tongue and teeth until I'm writhing, then switches to the other breast and starts again.
"Magnus." His name comes out breathless. Pleading.
"I like hearing you say it." He releases my breast. "Say it again."
"Magnus."
"Louder." His hand slides down my stomach. Over my hip. Between my thighs to cup me with deliberate possession. "Let me hear you."
"Magnus." This time it's a gasp because his fingers are moving. Exploring. Finding wetness.
"Already soaked for me." He strokes through my folds with maddening slowness. "This all mine?"
The possessive question makes me wetter. "Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, it's yours." The admission feels dangerous. Like I'm giving him more than my body.
He rewards me by sliding one finger inside. The stretch is good but not enough. I rock against his hand, trying to get more, but he pulls back.
"Greedy." He kisses his way down my stomach. "I'm not done exploring yet."
I realize what he's about to do a second before he settles between my thighs. His shoulders force my legs wide. His breath ghosts over my clit. Then his mouth is on me and thought becomes impossible.
He works me with his tongue. Slow licks that have me squirming. Focused attention on my clit that has me gasping his name. When he adds his fingers again, stretching me open while his mouth continues its assault, I'm already climbing.
"Not yet." He pulls back just as I'm about to come. Leaves me panting and desperate and cursing.
"That's cruel."
"That's control." He kisses the inside of my thigh. Teeth grazing skin. "You'll come when I decide."
He brings me to the edge again. Then again.
Each time pulling back just before I break.
By the time he finally lets me fall, I'm incoherent.
His name is a sob when orgasm crashes through me.
Wave after wave while he works me through it with his tongue, wringing out the aftershocks until I'm boneless.
"Perfect." He crawls back up my body and kisses me so I can taste myself. "You're so fucking perfect when you come."
I'm still catching my breath when he strips off his shirt. Then his jeans. He's hard and thick and ready, and the sight makes my core clench with renewed need.
"I want to watch your face when I fuck you." He settles between my thighs. The head of his cock nudges my entrance. "Want to see what it does to you."
He pushes in slowly. So slowly I'm aware of the stretch. The burn of being filled. The delicious friction as my body adjusts. He doesn't look away. Holds my gaze the entire time he's sliding in until he's seated fully and we're both breathing hard.
"Jesus." The word tears from my throat. He's deep. The angle different in ways that light up nerve endings.
"Not Jesus." He pulls back just as slowly. "Magnus. Say my name."
"Magnus." It comes out breathless as he thrusts back in.
"Again." Another slow withdrawal. Another deep thrust.
"Magnus."
He sets a rhythm that's maddening. Deep strokes that hit places inside me that blur my vision. He never looks away. Never breaks eye contact. Just watches my face while he takes me apart with that controlled precision.
"You feel incredible." His voice is strained. The first crack in his control. "So tight around my cock."
The praise makes me clench around him. He groans and his hips stutter. For a moment I think he's going to lose control. Speed up. Give me the hard fucking my body is begging for.
Instead he goes slower. Changes the angle so each thrust drags across places that make me whimper. His hand slides between us. Finds my clit. Circles it with just enough pressure to build sensation without pushing me over.
"Fall apart for me." His words are gravel and sin. "Let me watch you break."
"Then make me." The challenge slips out before I can stop it.
His smile is wicked. "As you wish."
He increases the pressure on my clit. Picks up the pace just enough that each thrust hits deeper. The combination is devastating. Within moments I'm climbing again. Higher and faster than before. When I finally break, it's with his name on my lips and my nails digging into his shoulders.
The orgasm is longer this time. Stronger. I pulse around him. His groan vibrates through his chest where it presses against mine. Then his control finally snaps.
He buries his face against my neck and fucks me harder. Faster. Chasing his own release with single-minded focus. His teeth find my shoulder. Bite down hard enough that I cry out. Hard enough to leave marks that will bruise.
"Mine." The word is a growl against my skin. "You're mine, Neve. Say it."
"Yours." I can barely form words. "I'm yours."
He comes with a sound that's almost a snarl. I can feel him pulsing inside me. The heat of his release. The way his whole body goes taut before collapsing onto me with his full weight.
We lie there panting. Sweat-slicked. His heart pounds against my chest. His breath hot against my neck where he's still biting down on that claimed piece of skin.
Finally he releases me. Pulls back enough to look at the mark he left. His thumb traces it with satisfaction.
"That's going to bruise." I mean it as complaint. It comes out sounding like satisfaction.
"Good." He kisses the mark. Gentle now. "I want everyone to see you're marked... mine."
He pulls out slowly. I whimper at the loss. His fingers trace through the mess we made with possessive satisfaction before pushing it back inside me.
"Don't want to waste any of this." The crude words make me flush. "Want you full of me."
Then he's gathering me against his chest and rolling us so I'm sprawled on top of him. His hand moves through my hair in long, soothing strokes that make my eyes heavy.
Outside, the storm has finally quieted. Inside, my heart is still racing.
We lie tangled together. Neither of us speaking. Just breathing and touching. The world beyond this bed temporarily forgotten.
"I've never..." The words stick in my throat. "It's never been like that."
"I know." His voice rumbles beneath my ear. "It won't be like that with anyone else. Just me."
The declaration doesn't scare me. That's what terrifies me most.
Sleep pulls at me. I fight it briefly, wanting to stay in this moment where nothing else matters, but exhaustion wins. I drift off on his chest with the steady thump of his heartbeat as my lullaby.
Darkness. Dreamless. Safe.
I wake to pale morning light and the need to pee. Consciousness returns in uncomfortable layers. Full bladder. Stickiness between my thighs. Soreness in muscles I didn't know I had. Magnus's arm heavy across my waist, pinning me to the bed.
I extract myself carefully. Try not to wake him. His arm tightens briefly before releasing me with what might be a grunt of protest. I grab his shirt from the floor and pad to the bathroom on unsteady legs.
The mirror shows me what I suspected. Bite mark on my shoulder. Dark and obvious. Bruises forming on my hips from his fingers. Evidence of being thoroughly claimed that makes my core clench despite the soreness.
When I return, he's awake. Propped up on one elbow and watching me with an intensity that makes me self-conscious in ways last night didn't.
"Come here." Not a request.
I climb back into bed. Let him arrange me how he wants—tucked against his side with his arm around me. My fingers trace idle patterns on his chest. Find scars I didn't notice in the dark. Long line across his ribs. Puckered mark on his shoulder that looks like a bullet wound.
"This one?" My finger traces the shoulder scar.