“You’re not going anywhere,” he murmurs against my skin, his breath hot and ragged. “Not until you’ve begged me properly. Not until you understand how deep this goes.”
I squirm under him, trying to twist my wrists free, but he just tightens his grip, one large hand holding both of mine easily. His other hand slides down my side, fingers tracing the curve of my waist, teasing, just brushing the edge of where I need him most.
I hate how my body reacts, arching into his touch, my thighs falling open even though every part of me screams to resist. He grinds his hips against mine, the rough fabric of his jeans dragging against my bare, sensitive skin, and I can’t help the whimper that slips out.
His dark, wicked chuckle vibrates against my neck. “You make it so easy,” he whispers, licking the shell of my ear. “All it takes is a little pressure, a little control, and you melt. You hate that, don’t you? Hate that your body knows who it belongs to.”
I bite my lip, trying to stifle the moan building in my throat. He notices of course—he notices everything. His free hand trails lower, fingertips brushing over my inner thigh, just close enough to make my hips jerk forward, desperate for contact.
“So needy,” he taunts, his lips brushing mine without fully kissing me. “But I will not make it that easy for you. Not after how long you made me wait.”
He shifts his hips, pressing harder against my pussy, grinding in slow, deliberate circles, and I can feel how hard he is even through his clothes. My legs wrap around his waist without permission, pulling him closer, and he smirks, nipping at my jaw.
“You’re going to say it,” he whispers, eyes locked on mine. “You’re going to beg me to fuck you. You’re going to tell me how much you need me.”
I shake my head, but it’s so weak, and he knows it. His hand slips between my legs, fingers barely grazing over me, not enough pressure to satisfy. I squirm, trying to get more, but he pulls his hand back, smirking.
“Uh-uh,” he chides. “You don’t get to take what you want. You wait until I decide you’ve earned it.”
My head falls back against the pillow, frustration boiling in my chest, but he just tilts his head, watching me come undone.
“Is it frustrating, Little Spider?” he taunts, his fingers brushing lightly over my entrance before pulling away again. “Being at my mercy? Wanting it so bad you’re shaking, but not getting what you need?”
I grit my teeth, trying to stifle a sob. “Fuck you,” I whisper, voice cracking.
He leans in, biting down on my neck hard enough to make me gasp. “That’s not the way to get what you want,” he growls. “You’re going to ask nicely. You’re going to admit that you want me to fuck you.”
I can’t breathe, can’t think; my body wound so tight I feel like I might shatter. He grinds his hips against mine again, harder this time, and I choke on a moan, my thighs squeezing his waist.
“Say it,” he murmurs, licking a path down my throat. “Tell me how badly you need it. How much you want me to break you.”
He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, his own burning with something feral and possessive. “You’re mine,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to mine. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”
My chest heaves, and I hate how my lips part, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “I’m yours.”
His lips crash into mine, rough and consuming, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth, tasting my surrender. His free hand finally moves between my legs, fingers sliding through the wetness, and I cry out against his mouth, my body jerking at the contact.
He pulls back just enough to speak, voice like gravel. “That’s better. I knew you’d give in. Now, be a good girl and take it.”
His fingers thrust inside me without warning, rough and unforgiving, and I can’t help the scream that tears free. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down, his pace brutal, relentless, his eyes never leaving mine.
“You wanted this,” he growls. “You needed someone to take you, to force you to feel. I’m giving you what you begged for.”
Tears blur my vision, but I can’t stop the way my body clenches around his fingers, can’t stop the way my hips move in time with his thrusts, desperate for more. He leans in, biting my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, and I taste copper and salt, his tongue lapping at the wound.
“I’m going to make you scream my name,” he whispers. “Going to make sure you never forget who owns you.”
His thumb brushes over my clit, circling slowly, a cruel contrast to the rough thrust of his fingers. My head falls back, and I’m choking on sobs and moans, every nerve on fire.
“Say it,” he growls. “Say my name.”
I try to bite back the words, but he thrusts harder, and I break. “Damien!” I scream, the sound torn from me, and he smiles—a dark, satisfied smile that makes my stomach flip.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, voice dripping with triumph. “You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”
I can’t hold back anymore. My body shudders, the climax hitting me like a freight train, my nails digging into his arms, desperate for something to hold on to. He doesn’t slow down, dragging out every tremor, forcing me to ride the wave until I’m a boneless, trembling mess.
When I finally collapse back against the bed, he hovers over me, wiping away the tears with a rough thumb. “You did so good, Little Spider,” he whispers, almost tender. “But I’m not done with you yet.”
