Her mouth opens, some broken denial spilling out, but I cut it off with another thrust that makes her scream.
“Say it,” I snarl, dragging my hand up her throat until I’m squeezing lightly, just enough to make her swallow hard under my palm. “Say who owns you, baby girl.”
She chokes on a sob. “N-no.”
I laugh, low and cruel. “Stubborn little thing. That’s fine. I enjoy breaking you slow.”
I pull almost all the way out, leaving her empty, trembling, and then slam back in so hard the headboard cracks against the wall. She cries out, her legs kicking uselessly, trying to close, but I shove them wider.
“Feel that?” I whisper, teeth grazing her jaw. “That’s me splitting you open. Filling you. No other man will ever get this deep, baby girl. No one else will ruin you like this.”
Her lips tremble. “Stop calling me that.”
I grin against her skin, feral. “That’s what you are. My baby girl. Soft. Sweet. Made to take me. Made to obey me.”
I tug the chain between the clamps, making her arch and cry out, the sound breaking into a moan.
“God, you love it,” I taunt, thrusting faster, harder. “You’re dripping down my cock, clenching like you’re begging me to never leave your body. But your mouth? Your mouth’s still fighting me.”
I release her throat, sliding my hand between her thighs, pressing against her clit while I fuck her hard enough to rattle the frame.
Her scream shatters the air, high-pitched and desperate, hips bucking wildly.
“Say it,” I snarl again, punishing her with merciless thrusts, fingers working her clit until she’s shaking violently under me. “Say you’re my baby girl, or I’ll edge you all fucking night.”
She’s sobbing now, blindfold damp with tears, body convulsing as she tries to hold on, tries to deny me. But she’s breaking. I feel it in every shudder, every ragged breath.
Her voice is a cracked whisper. “Yours.”
I growl, primal satisfaction ripping through me. “Louder.”
Her head jerks side to side, like she can resist, but then — “Yours, I’m yours. I’m your baby girl.”
The words nearly undo me. I slam into her with everything I have, a feral rhythm that leaves us both raw, my name spilling from her lips like a prayer and a curse.
I bury myself deep, chest pressed to her back, lips at her ear. “That’s right,” I rasp, broken and dark. “Mine. Forever mine. My baby girl.”
And when she shatters, screaming under me, her wet pussy gripping me so hard the need to cum slivers up my spine, desperate, her pussy clenches around me like it was always meant to, I finally let go too—claiming her in every sense of the word.
She’s still shaking when I untie the belt from her wrists, the leather leaving angry red lines in her skin. I rub the marks slowly, coaxing blood back into her hands, my chest rising and falling like I’ve just gone to war. Maybe I have.
She slumps against me the second she’s free, blindfold pushed up to her hairline, eyes glassy and wet. She looks wrecked, mine, and she knows it.
I stroked her hair, my lips brushing her temple. “Breathe, baby girl. Just breathe.”
Her chest hitches, and for a moment, she lets me hold her. Lets me soothe the fire I set.
Then her voice breaks, raw and hoarse. “You said you didn’t want this. You didn’t want… a relationship. So what the hell is this?”
The question slices through me sharper than any blade.
I tip her chin up so she has to look at me, even though her gaze flickers, wary and defiant all at once.
“What I said,” I murmur, low, “was that I don’t do relationships. I don’t play house. I don’t promise fairy tales. That hasn’t changed.”
Her eyes glisten, throat working. “Then what are you doing to me? What was that? You can’t—” She swallows hard. “You can’t break me open like that and pretend it means nothing.”
My jaw tightens. I drag my thumb over her split lip, watching her tremble under my touch.
