I come hard, shuddering and whimpering.
He removes the binder clips all at once, which only prolongs the orgasm, leaving me a boneless, stuttering mess. I droop in the chair, panting and shaking, my whole body somehow numb and on fire at the same time.
When the last aftershock pings through me, he massages my wrists and legs, his touch gentle, before he helps me out of the chair, steadying me while I find my balance.
"Why?" I ask, breathless, desperate to understand why he's so fucking fascinated with breaking me. Or, perhaps, to understand why I'm so willing to let him do it.
"Because I can." He runs a thumb over my cheek, his touch soft. "Because you let me," he says before turning back to his desk as if nothing happened. "Because we're exactly the same."
I gather my clothes with shaking hands, trying to remember who I am.
I don't succeed.
On Tuesday, I wake up with him in my bed.
"What the fuck?" I mutter, staring at him blankly. "Why are you in my bed?" The better question might behowis he in my bed. I changed my lock code after he broke in last time.
"I told you that your security is shit, princess," he says, smirking over at me.
"Stop breaking into my apartment, Asher," I growl, smacking him over the head with a pillow.
Wrong move.
He yanks the pillow out of my hands and throws it across the room. Before I can process, he has me on my stomach beneath him, my face smashed against a pillow, his hands digging into the nape of my neck.
I try to fight back, but he's already sprawled over my body, his cock hot and hard and jabbing at my thigh.
"Let me go," I snarl, bucking, but it comes out muffled and pathetic.
He just laughs in response, leaning over me until his mouth is pressed to my ear.
"You really think you get a say?" His voice is smoke and gravel. His hand drags my hips up, forcing my ass high. For a second, I think he's going to spank me. Instead, he bites my shoulder hard enough to leave a perfect, instant bruise.
I twist helplessly as he shoves my face deep into the pillow again, suffocating my protest. His other hand slips down, two fingers plunging inside me with zero warning, and I realize I'm already soaked for him.
I hate that he notices.
"You keep saying no, but your pussy hasn't gotten the message," he growls, his voice thick with disgust and hunger and something I can't name.
He doesn't waste time as he drags his cock up my slit, then slams himself inside, all in one brutal, perfect thrust.
I scream into the pillow, half pain and half desperate relief.
He fucks me like a demon, his hands braced on my hips, every thrust calculated to split me open and leave me sobbing.
It's so fast, so raw, my body doesn't know which way is up. He keeps me pinned, his teeth against the side of my neck, then slaps my ass. Once. Twice. Hard enough to make me yelp. And then harder when I push back against him, asking for more even though I want to fucking hate him for doing this to me.
"This is mine," he spits out, punctuating his declaration with another savage thrust. "You're mine. Say it."
I try not to. I swear, I try. But the words are just there, raw and unfiltered, no matter how hard I try to keep them to myself. "I'm yours."
He doesn't let up, not even a little. His hand snakes up to my throat, pulling me up against him, so I'm choking and gasping while he fucks me so deep I can't even think. His other handtangles in my hair, yanking my head back until I'm forced to meet his feral gaze.
He's so goddamn beautiful, smirking like this is the only place he wants to exist, his cheeks flushed, my name a rumbled growl on his lips.
"Did you dream about me last night, princess?" he rasps. "Was I fucking you like this while you were moaning my name in your sleep?"
I try to lie and tell him no, but I choke on the words.
