Chapter 54 #2
I lined myself up and thrust back inside her in one smooth motion. She was even tighter like this, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from coming right then. I’d had nothing but my hand for almost a year.
“Fuck, Fiona,” I groaned, my hands gripping her ass, spreading her cheeks so I could watch my cock disappear inside her. “Look so good takin’ my cock. So fuckin’ perfect.”
I fucked her harder than before, my hips slapping against her ass with each thrust. The sound filled the room, mixing with her moans and my grunts. Primal. Raw. Exactly what I needed.
One hand slid up her spine, tangling in her damp hair, and I pulled, arching her back, making her take me even deeper. She cried out, pushing back against me, meeting me thrust for thrust.
“That’s my girl,” I praised. “Take it. Take everythin’ I give you.”
My other hand came down on her ass, the sharp crack of the slap echoing. She gasped, her pussy clenching around me, and I did it again. And again. Watching the pale skin turn pink, marking her.
Mine to touch. Mine to fuck. Mine to mark.
“You like that?” I asked, spanking her again. “Like it when I mark this perfect ass?”
“Yes,” she whimpered. “Yes, Jasper.”
I released her hair and leaned over her, my chest against her back, my mouth at her ear. “Gonna fill this pussy up, baby. Gonna come so deep inside you, you’ll feel me for days.”
She moaned, pushing back harder against me, and I knew she was close again. I could feel it in the way her body trembled, in the way her pussy fluttered around my cock.
I reached around, finding her clit again, and rubbed hard. “Come with me,” I growled. “Wanna feel you come on my cock again.”
It only took a few more thrusts before she shattered, her orgasm ripping through her. The feel of her pussy milking my cock sent me over the edge. I buried myself as deep as I could go and came, filling her with hot spurts of cum, marking her from the inside.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
The word echoed in my head with each pulse of my release. This woman was mine in every way that mattered. And I’d never let her go.
I collapsed beside her, both of us breathing hard, sweat-slicked and satisfied. I pulled her against me, my arm around her waist, holding her close. Possessive even in the aftermath.
She turned her head to look at me, her green eyes soft and sated. “That was...”
“Yeah,” I agreed, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “It was.”
But even as I held her, even as my body relaxed into the post-orgasm haze, my mind was already spinning. Already thinking about the next time. About all the ways I wanted to take her, claim her, make her mine over and over again.
Because once would never be enough. A hundred times wouldn’t be enough. I’d never get enough of Fiona Mitchell-Steiner Dubois.
She was mine now. And I was never letting her go.
I traced patterns on her hip, my fingers possessive even in their gentleness. “You okay?” I asked, my voice rough.
“More than okay,” she murmured, snuggling closer.
Good. Because I was just getting started.
My hand slid lower, between her thighs, feeling the mix of our releases. The evidence of what we’d done. Of my claim on her. I gathered some on my fingers and brought them to her lips.
“Taste us,” I commanded softly.
Her eyes widened slightly, but she parted her lips, taking my fingers into her mouth, sucking them clean. The sight of it made my spent cock twitch with renewed interest.
Fuck. I was already getting hard again.
“Jasper,” she breathed, her voice holding a note of disbelief as she felt my erection pressing against her ass.
“Can’t help it,” I growled, rolling her onto her back and settling between her thighs again. “You do this to me. Make me insatiable. Make me fuckin’ crazy.”
I pushed inside her again, both of us groaning at the sensation. She was sensitive, swollen, but she took me anyway. Wrapped her legs around my waist and pulled me deeper.
This time I went slow. Savoring every inch, every clench of her pussy around me, every breathy moan that escaped her lips.
I wanted to memorize every detail of this moment.
The way she looked beneath me, flushed and beautiful.
The way she felt, hot and tight and perfect. The way she said my name like a prayer.
“Never gonna get enough of you,” I murmured against her lips. “Never gonna stop wantin’ you. Needin’ you.”
“Good,” she whispered back. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”
Those words. Those simple words hit me harder than any punch I’d ever taken. She wasn’t going anywhere. She was mine. She was staying.
I kissed her deeply, pouring everything I felt into it. All the obsession, all the possession, all the twisted, dark love that consumed me. And she kissed me back just as fiercely, her hands in my hair, her body arching into mine.
I made love to her slowly this time. If you could call what we did making love. It was still claiming, still possessing, but gentler. Deeper. More intense in a different way.
When we came together, it was with our eyes locked, our breaths mingling, our bodies so intertwined I couldn’t tell where I ended and she began.
And as I held her afterward, as she drifted off to sleep in my arms, I made a silent vow.
This woman was mine. My wife. My old lady. My everything. And I’d protect her, possess her, keep her safe and satisfied for the rest of our lives.
Anyone who tried to take her from me would have to go through me first.
And I’d kill them before I let that happen.
She was mine.
Forever.