His hands cup my breasts again, thumbs circling my nipples, and the dual sensation of him deep inside me and his hands on my sensitive flesh is almost too much.
I ride him faster, harder, chasing the pleasure building inside me.
My breasts bounce with the movement, and Shadow's eyes are locked on them, his hands kneading the soft flesh, his thumbs working my hard nipples relentlessly.
"So beautiful like this," he groans, his voice strained. "Riding me, these perfect tits bouncing, your curves—fuck, Grace, you're perfect. So fucking perfect."
His words push me higher. I change the angle again, leaning back slightly, and suddenly he's hitting that spot inside me with every thrust.
"Shadow—I'm close?—"
"Look at me," he demands, his voice rough and commanding.
I open my eyes, meet his gaze, and the intensity there—the love, the possession, the absolute devotion—takes my breath away.
"Mine," he says, one hand leaving my breast to grip my hip, helping me move faster, harder. "You're mine, Grace. Say it."
"Yours," I gasp, my body climbing higher and higher. "Always yours."
"Say it again."
"I'm yours, Shadow. Forever. Only yours. Always."
That does it. Shadow's control snaps completely.
He flips us suddenly—I'm on my back and he's above me, still inside me, driving into me hard and deep and relentless.
His mouth finds my breast again, sucking hard on my nipple while he pounds into me.
The sensation is overwhelming—his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside, his mouth hot and demanding on my sensitive nipple, his hand kneading my other breast roughly.
"Mine," he growls against my skin. "My wife. My Grace. Mine."
"Yours," I cry out, my nails digging into his back, leaving marks I know he'll wear proudly. "Yours, yours, yours."
The pleasure builds impossibly higher, coiling tighter and tighter in my core, and then I'm shattering, crying out his name as waves of pleasure crash over me.
Shadow follows immediately, groaning my name as he comes deep inside me, his body shuddering with the force of it.
We collapse together, sweaty and gasping and completely satisfied.
Shadow rolls to the side carefully, pulling me with him so I'm tucked against his chest.
His hand cups my breast possessively, his thumb lazily circling my nipple as we come down from the high.
"I love you," he says quietly, his voice rough and sated.
"I love you too."
We lie there in silence, our breathing slowly returning to normal, and I trace idle patterns on his chest—over his tattoos, his scars, the evidence of the life he's lived.
"Shadow?"
"Yeah, darlin'?"
"Thank you. For everything. For fighting for me. For protecting me. For loving me enough to give up everything."
He kisses the top of my head, his arms tightening around me. "Thank you for choosing me. For choosing this life with your eyes open. For being strong enough to survive it and thrive in it."
