His hands freeze on his zipper, those stormy eyes locking with mine. Something shifts in his expression—surprise, then satisfaction that makes me want to scratch my name into his skin.
“Say it again,” he demands, shoving his jeans and boxers down in one smooth motion.
I swallow hard at the sight of him—all muscle and ink and that thick cock already hard and ready. “You're mine, Beckham Kingston. Just as much as I'm yours.”
A growl rumbles from his chest as he climbs onto the bed, his powerful body covering mine completely. One hand tangles in my hair, tugging my head back to expose my throat.
“Mine,” he repeats, biting down on the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder. Not hard enough to break skin, but definitely enough to leave a mark.
I arch against him, gasping at the delicious pain. “Yours.”
His mouth travels down my body, leaving a trail of bites and kisses that will definitely show tomorrow. I don't care. I want his marks all over me, want everyone to know I belong to him.
“This pussy is mine,” he says, roughly spreading my thighs with his hands. “No one else gets to touch it. No one else gets to taste it.”
Before I can respond, his mouth is on me, tongue licking a hot stripe up my center. I cry out, my hands flying to his hair, gripping the short strands as he devours me like a starving man.
“Fuck, Beckham!” I gasp as he sucks my clit between his lips. “Yes, right there!”
He groans against me; the vibrations sending shockwaves through my body. His stubble scrapes against my inner thighs, the slight burn only adding to the moment.
“You taste so fucking good,” he murmurs against my flesh. “Could eat this pussy for hours.”
I'm already close, my thighs trembling as he works me with his tongue and fingers. But just as I'm about to tip over the edge, he pulls away, leaving me whimpering.
“Not yet,” he says, crawling back up my body. “Want you to come on my cock.”
“I need you inside me,” I gasp, reaching between us to grip his cock. It's hot and hard in my hand, the skin so fucking soft. “I need to feel you stretching me open.”
He positions himself at my entrance, the thick head nudging against me. But instead of thrusting into me like I expect, he just dips in slightly—barely an inch—before pulling back out.
“This is just like that first night, trouble. You were sleeping so fucking pretty,” he says, pushing in another inch before pulling out again. “I couldn't help myself. I just slipped the tip in...”
He demonstrates, making me gasp.
“…and shot my load deep inside you while you were dreaming.”
“Fuck,” I moan, the confession making me impossibly wetter.
“Your pussy is getting so wet just thinking about it. About me claiming what's mine even when you didn't know it.”
“Please, more.”
He dips in again, just enough to make me feel the stretch before pulling out.
His large hand presses down on my stomach, holding me in place. “So fucking tight. So perfect.”
“You're being cruel,” I pant, my body trembling with frustration.
“I'm being thorough,” he corrects, leaning down to bite my earlobe. “Making sure this pussy remembers who it belongs to.”
“I know who I belong to,” I argue, trying to pull him closer with my legs.
He catches my thighs, holding them open so I can't forcehim deeper. “Say it then. Say who this tight little cunt belongs to.”
“You,” I breathe, beyond pride at this point. “It's yours, Beckham. Only yours.”
He rewards me with another shallow dip, this time pushing in a little further before retreating. “And what about these?” His free hand squeezes my breast roughly. “Who do these belong to?”
