7. Kate
Kate
He said one night. But he didn’t mean just once.
The first time he took me on that bed was earth-shattering. But he wasn’t done. Not even close. Michael didn’t just want to fuck me—he wanted to ruin me for any other man.
I was still breathless, boneless, wrapped in sheets damp with sweat and sex, when he came back with a bottle of Dom and two flutes. He handed me one. I sipped, trying to recover my brain while he prowled around the room like a panther still half-starved.
“You good?” he asked, voice thick, his eyes lazily raking over my naked body.
I nodded, but I wasn’t fooling either of us.
“Get up,” he said, smirking. “Hot tub’s waiting.”
I padded out to the back deck, wrapped in a plush robe I swiped from the bedroom. The night air was cool, but the bubbling water glowed invitingly under the string lights reflecting off the lake. It was like something out of a dream—romantic and dangerous.
He was already naked in the tub, arms spread on the edge like a king on his throne. I stepped out of the robe and slid in across from him.
He popped the champagne and poured it directly into my glass, then refilled his own. We toasted. I took a long sip. He took a longer stare.
Then he set his glass down and asked, “You want ecstasy?”
I raised a brow, cocking my head. “Didn’t know your previous girls needed that to come with you.”
His grin sharpened. “You think you're cute.”
“No,” I said, swirling my drink. “I know I am.”
His eyes went darker, hotter.
“Come here.”
I didn’t hesitate. I crawled across the water toward him, letting my thighs straddle his lap. His cock was already hard, thick, hot against my core beneath the water. He gripped my hips and stared up at me like I was his last meal.
“You like playing with fire, don’t you?” he asked, voice gravel.
“Only if I get to be the one burning you,” I whispered.
He growled low in his throat. “Ride me.”
I reached between us, guiding his thick shaft to my entrance. The second the tip pressed against me, I felt him twitch—hot and impossibly hard. I gasped as I began to sink down onto him.
He felt like molten steel stretching me wide. My breath caught. My thighs trembled.
“Baby,” he hissed, jaw locking tight. “You feel like heaven, Kate.”
I kept going, inch by devastating inch. He was so thick, so deep, I could feel every detail of him sliding into my soaked body. My walls clenched around him, desperate to keep him in.
His hands gripped my hips hard, thumbs digging into my flesh. “Fuck, baby. You're so tight. So warm. You’re soaking all over my cock.”
His eyes locked onto mine—hot, possessive, watching every expression flash across my face.
“You feel that?” he rasped. “That’s me hitting your spot. No one else ever gonna touch you like this.”
I whimpered as he shifted just right, the thick head of his cock dragging over my G-spot again and again. White-hot sparks lit up inside me. I clung to his shoulders, nails digging in, legs spread wide as I rode him.
“You make me insane,” he groaned. “Watching you take me like this… watching you break for me…”
He thrust up as I ground down, the rhythm going wild. My head tipped back, mouth open, moaning shamelessly.
“I’m gonna come,” I gasped.
“Do it. Drench me. I wanna feel you soak my cock.”
I shattered, convulsing around him as my orgasm tore through me, flooding him with everything I had.
He lost it then. Hands grabbing my ass, he slammed up into me, chasing his release. His muscles flexed, biceps trembling, and he let out a feral growl as he came hard inside me.
“Mine,” he said again, holding me close as we both tried to catch our breath.
Water sloshed around us. Champagne forgotten. Stars glittered above the treetops.
And in his arms, I knew—this wasn’t just one night.
It was the beginning of something dangerous.
He lifted me out of the tub, slick and shaking, cradling me like I weighed nothing. The chill in the air kissed my wet skin, but I was too dazed to care.
Inside the cabin, he carried me straight into the oversized shower. Steam billowed instantly as he turned on the water. His hands were everywhere—lathering my breasts, smoothing over my belly, down between my legs. I gasped as he washed me, massaging me like I was his.
Then he pressed me against the tile.
“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmured against my ear.
His hands spread my legs and his cock slid in from behind, thick and unforgiving. I arched, moaning. The sound of wet skin slapping echoed in the marble space. He was deeper like this, his cock hitting places that made me sob.
He reached around and rubbed my clit while fucking me harder, faster. My legs shook. I came again, weak and wrecked, crying out his name.
Michael came with a brutal growl, pulling me tight to his body as his release flooded me again.
We barely made it to the bed before he wanted me again. And again.
And one last time—when I thought I had nothing left to give.
He pinned me down, kissed me soft and slow, then took me with such thick, deep strokes that my whole body lifted off the mattress. He watched every second of it—his dark eyes holding mine, drinking in every flutter of my lashes, every stuttered gasp.
“You feel that?” he rasped, thrusting harder. “That’s your body begging for me. You’re mine now, Kate. Say it.”
I couldn’t speak. I could barely breathe. My nails clawed his back, my thighs wrapped tight around his waist as I rode the edge again.
His final thrust sent us both over. I screamed his name as he spilled inside me, a raw, hoarse cry in my ear as his cock flexed, pulsing with release.
His body trembled, still buried inside me, as I clenched around him one last time.
He collapsed against me, breathing hard, his weight comforting.
Hours later, as sleep pulled me under, he was no longer inside me—but I still felt him there. The ache between my thighs, the sticky evidence of him leaking down, the burn in every muscle… it was all his.
I was marked.
Branded.
And maybe?—
Maybe I wanted it.