“This doesn’t mean what you think it means,” I say, needing to say something, anything, to anchor myself.
He doesn’t answer right away.
I begin to lift myself from him but his hands come down on my hips and hold me in place.
“I get that you aren’t looking for a relationship or anything. Things got tense. We relieved the tension.” I know I’m babbling, but I don’t want him to feel obligated in any way. “I’ll leave, and I will pull out of the project. We can go back to not even knowing each other exists.”
A low rumble comes from him at that, his hands still keeping me in place.
“My cock is still inside you, Jessica.” He looks like a man on the edge of madness. “Don’t talk about leaving while your cunt still flutters around me.”
I gulp down whatever else was going to come out of my mouth. The silence that follows presses against my nerves, stretching the moment thin. I suddenly understand how dangerous he is in ways that have nothing to do with violence. He doesn’t rush. He lets things unfold until you’re the one scrambling to catch up.
He presses on my hips, forcing me to grind against him and I whimper involuntarily.
“What do you think I think it means?” he asks, his pale eyes glittering in the darkening room.
I swallow. “I think you’re used to getting what you want. I think this was… impulse.”
His mouth curves slightly as he rocks me against him again.
“I don’t do impulse,” he says sending a thrill straight through me.
If this wasn’t impulse, then it was choice. And the weight of that presses down on me in ways I don’t know how to unpack yet.
Another press of my hips, another roll of my pelvis, another gasp pulled from me against my wishes.
My body is still aching in places I don’t want to think about too closely. I feel powerful and exposed at the same time, like I’ve stepped into a version of myself I didn’t know existed.
“I don’t know what happens now,” I admit on a moan. “I don’t know what this makes me. Or what it makes us.”
“It makes you mine to protect,” he says, lifting me a little this time before dragging me back into a grind. “Mine to keep.”Grind. “Mine to Fuck.”Grind. “Mine to breed.”Grind.
The possessiveness in his voice sends a shiver through me, sharp and undeniable. I should push back. Should assert myself. Should remind him I’m not something to be claimed.
Instead, my breath stutters.
“And what does it make you?” I ask, pleasure trying to build while I try to keep some kind of control.
His eyes darken instantly, something primal and unmistakable breaking through his control. Suddenly he flips us, pressing me into the plush carpet and pinning my arms above my head.
“I’m the man who will fuck you full of cum every night.” His pace is punishing, his thick cock stretching me mercilessly.
My pulse spikes as I cry out, pleasure threatening to tear me apart.
“This doesn’t end here,” he says, voice low and intent. “And you’re not leaving this hotel.” His words are grunts as he fucks me with obliterating force.
His weight pins me to the carpet, heavy and unyielding, and I can’t move. I don’t want to move. My wrists are trapped in one of his hands above my head, the other braced beside my shoulder as he drives into me with a force that steals every thought I have left.
Each thrust is deep and punishing, like he’s trying to brand himself inside me. The stretch burns in the best way, my body still sensitive from the first time, and I’m already trembling beneath him.
“Look at me,” he growls, voice rough and low.
My eyes snap open, locking onto his pale gaze. There’s no softness there, only raw possession, and it drags a helpless moan from my throat.
“That’s it,” he says, snapping his hips forward hard enough to jolt my whole body. “Take every fucking inch of me. You feel how deep I am, Jessica? Feel how your sweet pussy is desperately trying to milk me for my cum already?”
I whimper, arching up as much as his grip allows. Words are impossible; all I can do is feel. The thick slide of him, the drag against every sensitive spot inside me, the way my thighs shake around his waist.
