“I’ll stop making you wait when I’m satisfied that you understand something.”
“Understand what?” Frustration and desire war in her voice.
“That you’re mine.” I position myself at her entrance, not moving. “Say it.”
“I’m yours.” The words come out immediately.
I thrust into her, and she cries out, her back arching off the bed. I don’t give her time to adjust. I set a demanding pace immediately, one hand gripping her hip hard enough to leave marks, the other braced beside her head.
“Look at me.” I wait until her eyes open, unfocused and dark with pleasure.
She tries to respond, but her words break on a moan.
I slow down, making each thrust deliberate, controlled. “You can take everything I give you. Can’t you?”
“Yes.” Her legs wrap around my waist. “Yes, I can.”
“Good.” I shift the angle slightly, and she gasps. “Because I’m not going easy on you. Not tonight. Not ever.”
“I don’t want you to.” Her nails rake down my back. “I want this. I want you like this—losing control, not holding back.”
Something breaks in me at her words, the last restraint I’ve been holding on to. I capture her mouth in a brutal kiss, pouring months of want and frustration and need into it. She kisses me back just as fiercely, taking everything I give her and demanding more.
The control I’m known for fractures completely. I grip her thigh, pushing it higher, changing the angle, and she makes a sound that’s half gasp, half scream.
“Harder.” She demands it, not asks.
I comply, driving into her with enough force to make the headboard hit the wall. She meets me thrust for thrust, her body moving with mine, and I realize this is what she needed—not gentleness, not careful handling, but proof that I see her as strong enough to take all of me.
“Ansel, I’m close!” Her voice breaks.
“Not yet.” I slow down again, making her whimper in frustration. “Not until I say.”
“You can’t just?—”
“I can.” I pull almost all the way out, then thrust back in slowly. “And I will. Because you’re mine, Remy. And when you come, it’s going to be because I let you. Because I made you. Understand?”
“Yes.” She’s trembling beneath me. “Yes, I understand.”
“Good.” I pick up the pace again, reading her body, knowing exactly how close she is. “Then come for me. Now.”
She shatters around me, my name torn from her throat, her entire body arching and tightening. I follow seconds later, the control I’ve been holding onto finally snapping completely as I drive into her one last time.
We stay locked together, both of us gasping for air. I don’t roll away, don’t give her space. Instead, I keep her pinned beneath me, my forehead pressed against hers.
Her hands slide up my back.
I pull back enough to look at her. There are marks on her hips from my fingers, and I trace one with my thumb. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” She catches my hand, bringing it to her lips. “You gave me exactly what I asked for. What I needed.”
I capture her mouth in a kiss that’s softer than before, but no less possessive. When I pull back, she’s smiling. “What?”
“You.” She traces the line of my jaw. “You’re not what I expected.”
“In bed?”
“In general.” Her smile widens. “I thought you’d be all controlled and restrained. But you’re not. You’re intense and demanding and just a little bit overwhelming.”
