I take my time undressing her, not gentle, not rough, just thorough. Her nightgown ends up in a heap on the floor. My hands map out every line of bare skin. I keep my mouth on herneck, her chest, the soft spot below her ear that makes her whole body jolt.
“Color?” I murmur against her skin.
“Green,” she gasps. “So green.”
Good.
I strip my shirt, kick off my jeans, and settle between her thighs. The music outside is a distant throb. In here, there’s only her breathing and the small, wrecked sounds she makes when I drag my hands over her.
“Tell me what you want,” I say.
“I want you,” she says. “I want all of you.”
I let the words spill out that have been caged in my chest for months. “I thought about you like this since the first day you rolled those eyes at me at the bar. I’d lie awake and picture you under me, full of me, taking everything I give you and then begging for more. I’m so glad you said yes that first night.”
Her nails dig into my shoulders.
“You want more?” I ask. “You want me to fill you so deep you feel me for days?”
“Yes,” she pants. “God, yes.”
My control frays at the edges.
“Say it,” I murmur. “Say what you want me to do to you.”
Her cheeks flush, eyes blown wide. “I want you to put your cum inside me,” she whispers like it’s a secret. “I want to feel you claim me. I want… I want to know you want me that much.”
Every muscle in my body goes tight.
“I just… keep thinking about it,” she breathes.
“Thinking about what?” My thumb drags along her lower lip.
Her breath stutters. “About you wanting it anyway.”
I go still.
She swallows. “About you wanting to breed me.”
Heat detonates low in my spine. My grip on her hips tightens until she gasps.
She whispers, softer, filthier, “I want you to want to leave something in me. I want you to want me like that.”
“Jesus, Penelope…” The words scrape out of me. “You have no idea what you’re asking.”
“I do.” Her nails dig into my shoulders. “I want to feel owned.”
A growl tears from my chest.
Owned, claimed, filled.
She doesn’t even realize she’s weaponizing every fucking trigger in me.
I bend my forehead to hers. “You’re playing with fire.”
“Then burn me.”
My restraint snaps like a rubber band pulled too tight.
