“I knew you would always be with someone else,” he continued. “You were fucking engaged that night. At the same time, that night sealed something I already knew. It was always you. Would always be you.”
He flipped me to my side, his body cradling and imprisoning mine. He slid his hand between my thighs, and something between a groan and growl slipped out of him as he found me wet. His cock branded my ass, and I reached for it, sliding him back inside me.
Our groans harmonized.
“You feel so fucking good.”
His hand slid around my neck in a gentle, possessive hold that had me seeing stars. I arched against him. His rhythm was nothing like the savage energy of earlier. It was slow, deliberate. I felt every inch of him inside me.
He tilted my head and crushed his lips against mine. My sharp gasp heated his mouth.
He kissed me as he rode into me.
Thrust his tongue into my mouth in a slow, brutal rhythm that matched his cock.
He licked the side of my neck, up to my ear, then back to my lips. I was twisting, coming undone, breaking under the need. My nails dug into his arm.
“Please,” I begged.
“Pleasewhat, Rich Girl?” His words were a vicious heat on my ear.
“Please, let me come.Please.”
A rumble of approval shook his chest, and his pace picked up into something violent. He slammed into me, harder, demanding.
My abdomen tightened. Small, helpless whimpers fell from my mouth. Undignified. Very much not becoming a Crowne. But I was so close. I couldn’t see past this need.
“That’s it,” he rasped. “That’s a good girl. Come on my cock.”
His praise, coupled with the way his cock swelled and throbbed inside me, pushed me over the edge. We came together, in a mix of groans.
“You’re mine, Gemma Crowne,” he said. “I’m never letting you go.Ever.” The last word disappeared into a low growl.
He held me tight to his chest as he finished, one arm wrapped around my chest, the other still on my neck. Still inside me, his come dripped along my inner thighs.
Slowly, the hazy afterglow of my orgasm faded.
I’m never letting you go.
My gut twisted at the possession in his voice. Iwantedthat, I wanted it too badly. But he’d have to let me go, eventually. The nightmare still waited outside this dream.
“I should probably get going,” I whispered.
I tried to pull away and his grip on my neck tightened. “Why?”
“It’s been hours,” I added. “People are probably freaking out. Maybe I can clear things up.”
“And what are you going to do about it, Gemma? What’s your solution? How do you rewind and go back to before?”
I opened my mouth but said nothing.
I don’t know.
He slid out of me and I felt empty. Hollow.
I sat on the edge of the bed, my back to him. I felt the mattress dip with his weight as he got out of bed.
That familiar coldness crept in, the one that always followed any type of intimacy with us.
