Possession.
I feelownedby each movement, each rock of his hips. Streeter’s fingers dig into my back in ten perfect points of pressure that I hope leave bruises. I’d let him write his name across my body like that if he wanted.
Fuck, I’d let him do anything. I’d been willing to since that first time I dropped to my knees, and it hasn’t changed.
I don’t know how much time passes that way—with him fucking me so hard my entire body aches, with his fingers digging impressions all along my back, his nails dragging across my skin. I lean my head back and let out a low groan when he sucks a bruise onto my neck.
Once he’s done, he pulls back and his eyes focus on the spot. “You look so good with my marks on your skin.” His fingers dance over the spot, light and tender despite how his cock is nearly ripping me in two. “I fucking own you now, Hummingbird.”
“I think you have for a while…” The confession spills out before I can stop it, and it makes his eyes spark as he dips his head, doing it again.
And again.
Again… until he’s trailed across my entire throat and I know it probably looks like he put me in a collar. When he kisses me, I almost think I can taste the faintest hint of copper on his tongue.
“Only I can touch you.” He sucks another bruise onto my skin. “Only I can fuck you this good. Only fucking me, Remington.”
I tangle my fingers in his hair and give myself over to the sensation of him completely wrecking me. I could live in the sensation of it, could die happily knowing he was filling me up. Streeter’s mouth on mine demands I stay here, though, that I stay present.
That I stay?—
“With me,” he whispers the demand against my lips hard and hot, like he knows what I’m thinking. It takes my mind a second to catch up to what he’s asking as he twists, dropping his hand between us so he can take my cock in his skilled fingers and start pumping me.
The pace is hard and brutal, his fingers doing some kind of witchcraft that makes the pleasure that had slowly started knotting in my stomach begin to blossom across my skin.
“With me, Hummingbird.” He snarls this time and twists his wrist, and I understand.
With him—fuck. His body tenses as he tightens his grip and forces me over the edge as he comes.
With him.
That’s the only place I want to be.
My entire body jars with how roughly he fucks me through his orgasm, but it’s perfect—it’s everything I need. I feel like he’s tearing me apart as pleasure blossoms through me. He draws my orgasm out one rough thrust, one demanding stroke of his fingers at a time until my vision is dancing in spots and I can’t think.
I can’t breathe.
There’s nothing but Streeter inside me—nothing but the feeling of bliss while I float…
I’m faintly aware when he lowers me to the ground, and I whine softly when he presses his fingers inside me. It takes me a second to realize what he’s doing as he thrusts in slow, deliberate movements that make me shiver.
“Just like that, Hummingbird,” he murmurs. “We’re together inside you.”
I’m not sure if it’s those words or his fingers working me over that make me shudder and cry out again, but I feel the little burst of cum that spills helplessly from my cock as I come one more time.
I’m not sure if I faint or float, but the feel of Streeter pressing soft kisses to my throat, to my chin, my jawline, and finally my lips, forces me to slowly flutter my lids open.
Streeter’s eyes are… soft… when he looks down at me. He’s staring at me like he didn’t nearly fuck my soul right out of my body, and his hands cradling my head are tender when he slides them through my hair.
“You aren’t allowed to run off again, Remington.” I usually hate it when people use my full name, but there’s something about Streeter whispering it against my lips that makes me think it might not be so bad.
In fact, I’m pretty sure I could listen to him saying it for the rest of my life and I wouldn’t get tired of it.
“I’m sorry,” I answer, and I actually mean it. “I just… I got scared. I didn’t know what your friend was going to do, and I wanted to make sure I got far enough away that I could figure out how to see you again when he wasn’t here, and I?—”
Streeter’s expression cuts me off. “You were going to find me again?”
“Of course. I just had to figure out how to do it when he wasn’t here.”
