"I'm yours," I sob. "Only yours. Mark me again."
He reaches around and finds my clit. He rubs it in time with his thrusts, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
"Come for me," he demands. "Now."
I shatter, a violent, shattering orgasm that rips through me. A scream tears from my throat.
My body convulses, my vision going black. I can feel my pussy clenching around him, trying to milk him for all he's worth.
He continues to thrust, drawing out my pleasure until I'm a boneless mess.
I feel him pull out. I make a sound of protest, but it's cut short when he flips me onto my back.
He kneels over me, his hand on his cock, pumping himself. He's looking down at me, a dark, possessive look in his eyes.
"You want me to mark you? Claim you?" he asks.
"Yes," I say hoarsely.
He's looking at my breasts, my stomach, the mark already blooming on my side. He's looking for a place to leave another one.
He's going to come on me.
The thought sends a fresh wave of arousal through me.
He positions himself over me, his hand moving faster.
"Look at me," he commands.
I do. My gaze locks with his. I can see the desire in his eyes, the hunger. The need to possess me, to claim me, to make me his.
He jerks his cock faster now, his breathing more ragged. He's close.
Impossibly, my body responds with fresh desire, a wave of heat washing over me.
He's watching me. He's watching the desire in my eyes.
"Please," I whimper, my body arching towards him, silently begging for his release. "Please, Roberto."
He groans, a raw, primal sound that is pure pleasure. His body goes taut, a string pulled tight.
He comes.
The hot, sticky ropes of his release land on my breasts, my stomach, my pussy.
I cry out, my body arching as a smaller, but no less intense, orgasm rips through me. It feels like a blessing.
He collapses beside me, both of us breathing heavily. The room is silent except for the sound of our ragged breaths.
He's looking at me, an unreadable expression on his face. He reaches out and wipes a drop of his come from my breast. He brings it to my lips, and I open my mouth, sucking it off his finger.
I'm covered in him and feel utterly, completely claimed.
I'm a mess. A sticky, sweaty, satisfied mess. And I've never felt more beautiful.
He raises himself up, looking down at the mess he's made of me. There's a dark, possessive satisfaction in his eyes.
"Mine," he says, his voice a low growl.
