I find the hyper-sensitive bundle of nerves hidden beneath her hood. I draw it entirely inside my mouth, applying a heavy, agonizing suction. I use my tongue to flick relentlessly against the swollen peak, establishing a fast, driving, completely punishing rhythm.
Sybil entirely loses her mind.
Her hands pull frantically at my hair, her nails scratching against my scalp. Her thighs clamp tightly around my ears, entirely trapping me exactly where I want to be. The glass behind her vibrates as her body completely spasms under the sensory overload.
"Good girl," I praise against her wet skin, my voice a muffled, dark vibration. "Shatter for me, Sybil. Break."
I slide two thick fingers deep inside her tight, scalding velvet, completely stretching her. I curl my fingers upward, repeatedly striking the heavy, sensitive ridge along her anterior wall, while my mouth continues its relentless, devastating assault on her clitoris.
She cannot breathe. Her chest heaves with violent, jagged gasps, her skin flushing a deep, mottled crimson. She is entirely suspended in a blinding, white-hot purgatory of absolute pleasure, completely dominated by the man kneeling at her feet.
The climax hits her with catastrophic force.
Her entire body locks into a state of rigid, trembling paralysis. Her internal muscles spasm violently, repeatedly crushing my fingers in tight, scalding waves. A long, fractured, beautiful wail entirely escapes her lips, a sound of pure, unadulterated release that I swallow entirely.
I do not stop. I force her to ride out every single, agonizing aftershock of the orgasm, my tongue relentlessly working her hypersensitive nerves until she is completely weeping, her hands weakly pushing against my shoulders.
When she finally goes completely limp, sliding precariously down the glass wall, I withdraw my fingers and stand up.
I catch her before she hits the floor. I wrap my arms entirely around her waist, lifting her limp, exhausted body up. I carry her through the hallway, heading straight for the sun-drenched master bedroom.
I toss her onto the center of the massive, low-profile bed. She bounces slightly on the pristine white linens, entirely boneless, her heavy eyelids fluttering as she struggles to drag oxygen back into her lungs.
I stand at the edge of the mattress. I reach for the heavy silver buckle of my belt, completely flicking it open. I strip my dark trousers and boxer briefs down in one swift motion, completely freeing my heavy, aching length.
I climb onto the bed, my knees sinking deeply into the mattress on either side of her hips.
I grab the hem of the white silk dress still bunched around her waist and violently pull it over her head, completely entirely discarding it onto the floor.
She is entirely naked, completely flushed, and perfectly ruined.
I crawl over her, my massive body entirely caging her beneath me. I support my weight on my forearms, incredibly mindful of the scars on my chest, entirely hovering over her face.
"Look at me," I demand, my voice a dark, lethal hum.
She forces her tear-soaked lashes open, staring up into my black, obsessive eyes.
"You are the Queen of the Thorne Syndicate," I vow, my right hand sliding down to completely grip her hip. "And I am going to spend the rest of my life entirely inside you."
I position myself at her entrance, completely slick with her heavy nectar. I drive my hips forward, burying myself entirely inside her with one ruthless, devastating thrust.
A sharp, ragged scream tears from her throat. Her internal muscles clamp down violently, completely accepting the massive intrusion, welcoming the overwhelming fullness that entirely eclipses her physical exhaustion.
Thayer groans, a harsh, guttural sound of pure, dark satisfaction. I go completely rigid above her, my forehead dropping to rest heavily against hers, our skin slick with sweat.
"Sybil," I breathe, entirely lost in the absolute perfection of the fit.
I begin to move.
It is not the frantic, desperate survival sex of the study or the motel. It is a slow, heavy, profoundly possessive claiming. I pull back almost completely, torturing us both with the agonizing withdrawal, before driving my hips down, completely seating myself against her core. The heavy, wetslapof our bodies colliding is a rhythmic, hypnotic drumbeat.
I dominate her completely. I dictate the pace, forcing her to endure the slow, agonizing friction.
"Tell me," I growl, my hips driving deep, completely grinding against her sensitive center. "Tell me exactly who you belong to."
"You," she sobs, her hands entirely gripping my scarred shoulders, her fingernails digging into my flesh. "Only you, Thayer."
"Say it again," I demand, entirely increasing the brutal, driving pace of my thrusts, completely pushing her back toward the edge of the precipice.
