"Yes," I beg, "please, please—"
He answers by slamming into me so hard I fall forward, my hands scrabbling at the sheets. He's thick, brutal, barely giving me time to adjust before he claims me, holds me, uses me. The sting is sharp, sweet, absolutely perfect.
I want more, so much more.
He sets a punishing pace, every thrust battering the air from my lungs, savage and relentless. Each time he bottoms out, he grabs my hips and yanks me back onto him, his fingers digging in so deep I know I'll feel it for days.
I start to sob, overwhelmed by the intensity of it… by the pleasure, the pain, and the way it feels to finally let him wreck me again. The way it feels to be his in every fucking way again.
I can't hold the tears back. I don't even try.
He slows and then pulls out, forcing me to turn so he can look at me. He strokes my face, his thumb smearing the wetness across my cheek. For a second, he looks terrified again
"Am I hurting you?" he whispers, his voice shaking.
I shake my head so hard my teeth rattle. "No, never. It f-feels so good, Asher. So good. Don't stop. Please, don't ever stop. I need this. Need you."
The truth unlocks something in him, setting him free. Terror falls from his expression, replaced by the kind of desire that sears me all the way to my bones.
He grabs my throat, just hard enough to steal my breath, and pushes into me again, even harder than before.
"God, I missed this," he growls in my ear. "I missed you, all of you. You're so fucking perfect, Brielle, so perfect for me."
He fucks me until I'm delirious, until my body is one trembling orgasm after another, until I can't tell where the pain ends and the pleasure begins.
His eyes never leave mine, even when I'm writhing, even when I'm shaking and sobbing and clinging to his wrist like it's the last thing tethering me to earth.
"Look at you," he pants, driving into me until I'm screaming with every thrust. "So fucking pretty when you cry for me like this. My greedy girl."
I can't speak. I can only moan, my back arching, my body shuddering with every brutal, perfect snap of his hips. He knowsexactly how to break me down to nothing, and exactly how to piece me together again. He always has.
His hand tightens around my throat, cutting off my whimpers, turning them to wheezes.
"You know why I love choking you like this?" he whispers, his voice rough and reverent as I fight for the tiny slivers of air he allows me. "When I'm the one deciding if you breathe, I know nothing can ever take you from me again. Not fate, not the fucking universe, not even you. You're mine, princess. You always have been."
He lets go of my throat, and the oxygen floods back, sending me hurtling into a shattering orgasm.
I scream, a raw, animal sound as my body convulses. He fucks me through it, his hands everywhere—holding me, bruising me, protecting me.
"Choke for me," he says. My hands fly to his wrist, squeezing it, desperate for even one more second of that dizzying rush. He squeezes too—until the world blurs, until pleasure burns through me white hot and terrifying.
"Breathe for me," he orders, releasing my throat again, allowing air to rush back in like even my lungs obey his command.
"Live for me," he begs, and I do. God, I do. If I ever doubted it, I don't now. Every part of me is alive again, lit up and searing for him.
He holds me down and fucks me, his face buried in my neck, his voice pouring filth and worship into my ear.
"My perfect slut," he groans. "My world. My fucking everything."
I come again, so hard I black out for a second, the whole world dissolving around me. When I crash back to earth, he's still there, still inside me, still pushing me higher.
When I fall apart again, he comes with me, his whole body seizing up as he empties himself into me, as if he's been holding back for years. He stays inside me, chanting my name, holding me like he'll never let go.
And he doesn't. Not even when I start to cry again—the kind of tears you only cry for something you never thought you'd have again.
"I love you, princess," he says, his lips right against my ear. "I love you so fucking much. You're mine. Always."
He kisses my face, my wet cheeks, my eyelids, touching all those raw places I've always tried to hide from the world. But he sees them. He always has.
