But my control snapped.
I thrust inside her, sinking to the hilt, stretching her wide with one deep, claiming stroke.
“Oh, God, Olivia,” I groaned through clenched teeth, my forehead pressing against hers.
She gasped, her nails raking down my back, her thighs clenching tight around my waist.
“Fuck me, Roman.”
Her voice was wrecked, pleading, desperate.
She dug her nails into my ass, pulling me deeper.
“Fuck me hard.”
A snarl ripped from my throat as I rearedback?—
And slammed into her, filling her with a hard, punishing thrust.
“Mine.”
Her back arched, a shuddering moan spilling from her lips.
“Yours,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
I pulled out and slammed into her again.
“Mine.”
Her walls clenched around me, hot, tight, wet, her body dragging me deeper, milking me.
She was close—so fucking close.
I pressed my forehead to hers, our breath mixing, our bodies moving in a frantic, primal rhythm, a battle of lust, love, and desperate need.
“Say it again,” I growled, thrusting harder, deeper, rougher.
Her nails dug deep, clawing into my shoulders, her body shuddering, her thighs tightening around my waist, locking me inside her heat.
She was breaking—coming apart beneath me, for me.
“Yours, Roman. I’m yours.”
And that?—
That was the final snap of my restraint.
I slammed into her, deep and demanding, my body claiming hers with every punishing, perfect thrust.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
The words pounded through my skull, through my blood, through the relentless drive of my hips as I fucked her harder, deeper, the sound of our bodies colliding in primal need filling the hidden chamber.
But then?—
The memory of him.
That stranger’s hands on her, his mouth tainting her skin, his tongue licking where only I should have been.
