Blake sits on the edge of the mattress and pulls my hips toward him. I am too weak to resist, my thighs trembling as he spreads them wide. He doesn't look away from the mess he’d made of me—the white streaks of his seed drying on my skin, the swollen, angry red of my labia.
He begins to clean me. The warm cloth is a shock against my sensitized skin. He is shockingly gentle, dabbing away the fluids with the same precision he used to polish steel. His eyes are fixed on my pussy, tracking the way it continues to weep his cum.
"You're so wide for me," he murmurs, his thumb grazing my swollen clit just enough to make me jump. "I've stretched you so good, Tiff. You’re going to be sore tomorrow. But I'll take care of that, too. I'll take care of everything."
"Blake," I breathe, the heat rising in my cheeks again.
"I told you," he says, dropping the cloth and leaning over me, his hands pinning my wrists to the pillows. "I’m not just a protector. I’m a brand. I want you to remember the feel of my cock every time you close your eyes."
He kisses my forehead, a lingering, protective touch that feels like a vow. "Ramon is in a hole he’ll never climb out of. The bakery can be rebuilt. But you? You’re the only thing that matters."
He pulls me flush against his side, my head resting on his chest, the steady, powerful thud of his heart a lullaby. For a long time, we just lie there in the charcoal sheets, the silence of the mountain perfect and absolute. I feel safe. I feel eternal.
I think he is done. I think the night has finally surrendered to sleep.
Then, I feel it.
The heavy, rigid length of his cock begins to stir against my hip, growing thick and demanding once more. Blake shifts, his hand sliding down from my waist to the damp hair of my pussy. He doesn't just touch me; he hooks two fingers inside my still-aching entrance, stretching the sensitive walls again.
"Blake?" I gasp, my breath hitching as the fire flares back to life in my gut. "You... you just..."
"I told you I was an addict, Tiffany," he growls into my ear, his teeth nipping the lobe. "And I haven't even started on the second half of your education yet."
He sits up, pulling me with him until I am on my knees in the center of the bed. He reaches for the small, heavy wooden box he keeps on the nightstand—the one I’d noticed but never asked about. He opens it, and the moonlight glints off something cold and metallic.
Not a rose this time.
Two heavy, hand-forged steel cuffs, lined with soft black leather, connected by a short, brutal length of chain.
"I made these for you, too," Blake says, voice thick with emotion, the darkness of his eyes devouring me. "The rose was for the baker. These are for the woman who belongs to a Gunnar. You said you wanted to forget everything but me."
He snaps the first cuff around my right wrist, the heavy click of the lock sounding like a final sentence.
"This next lesson is about learning how to stay open for me, Tiff," he rumbles, reaching for my other hand. "And I don't plan on letting you close your legs until the sun is high over the ridge."
My pussy throbs, a violent, needy ache hitting me as he locks the second cuff, binding my hands in front of me. I look up at him—my monster, my husband, my owner—and realize that the night is only just beginning.
"Now," he commands, his hand wrapping around my throat to tilt my head back. "Tell me you're ready to be used."
10
BLAKE
The silence in the mountains used to be a warning. In the sandbox, or even here in the Grizzly Peak District, silence meant the perimeter was too quiet. It meant an ambush was brewing. But this morning, as the first gray light of dawn bleeds through the blackout curtains of The Forge, the silence is thick with something else. It’s heavy with the scent of a female who has been thoroughly claimed, and the musk of a male who isn't finished with her yet.
I don’t move. I can’t. Tiffany is draped across my chest, her soft, warm weight pinning me to the mattress. Her hair is a tangled veil of midnight silk across my throat, smelling of warm spice and honey and the raw, salt-and-steel scent of the high-octane sex we had while I had her wrists locked in steel. Her pale skin still shows the faint, pink shadow of the leather-lined cuffs I only just removed an hour ago. Every time she breathes, her bare breasts rub against my ribs, the friction sending a low, steady throb to my cock. I’m already rock-hard, my morning wood a rigid, pulsing weight between us that she hasn't even noticed yet.
I stare at the ceiling, my hand resting on the flare of her hip. My fingers look dark, scarred, and violent against her pale skin. I’ve spent three months watching her through a scope, memorizing her rhythm. Now, there’s no glass between us. Ramon is a non-variable now; Austin and Shane are currently ensuring he’ll never be found, burying him in a hole so deep the mountain will forget he ever existed.
Tiffany stirs, her thigh sliding up mine. The soft skin of her inner leg rubs against the coarse hair of my thigh, and the friction is like a match to a fuse. I groan, a low, guttural vibration that I feel in my fucking marrow.
"You're awake," she murmurs, her voice raspy from the screams I tore out of her. She doesn't open her eyes, just nuzzles closer to my neck, her lips brushing my pulse point.
"I've been awake for an hour," I growl, my voice a wreck. I don't wait for her to wake up fully. I slide my hand down, my palm cupping her pussy through the gap in her legs. She’s already soaked, her juices coating my fingers the second I touch her. "You’re dripping for me in your sleep, Tiff. Do you have any idea what that does to me?"
"Blake..." she gasps, her eyes snapping open, her pupils dilating as she feels the weight of my hand.
"Hush," I command, my thumb finding her engorged clit and grinding against it with a rhythmic, punishing pressure. I watch her face as she unravels in seconds, her back arching off the mattress, her breasts bouncing with the force of her breath. I don't let up. I want her to start the day knowing exactly who owns her body. I work my fingers into her, stretching her, my hand rubbing against her pussy until she’s sobbing my name.
