"Hands and knees." Already there. "Good girl."
She barely registers her hands are free before I flip her—stomach to the mattress, hips pulled up exactly where I want them. She scrambles into position without a word, and thetrust in it—that immediate, total, unguarded compliance—hits somewhere I'm not cataloguing right now.
"Don't you dare stop." She looks back over her shoulder, hair wrecked, cheeks flushed dark. "I will end you, Kade."
"Next time," I say, running the doubled belt lightly across one cheek—watching her breath stutter, her hips rock back toward me—"I use this on your ass instead. Find out how pink I can make you."
“I’m not against that.” She pushes back against me, impatient and absolutely unashamed. "I bruise pretty. Would love something to remember this by."
"Don't tempt me, little bird."
I grip her hip with one hand, angle with the other, and drive in without preamble—all the way, one stroke—and the sound she makes tears through the cabin.
After that, there's no more talking.
I lean back against the headboard, my chest heaving, watching the steam rise off our skin in the drafty cabin air. My heart is a frantic sledgehammer against my ribs. I need a second. Just one second to find my footing before I go back in.
She’s slumped against the pillows, her hair a wild, dark halo. She looks wrecked, but there’s a spark of defiance in the way she bites her lip.
"What's the matter, Kade?" she rasps, her voice shredded velvet. “Can't keep up?"
I let out a low, rough ghost of a laugh, wiping sweat from my forehead. "Give me a minute, little bird. I’m savoring the sight of you being unable to move."
"I can move just fine," she counters, though she doesn't actually shift an inch.
“Is that true?" I slide off the bed, my muscles tight and screaming, and stand over her. I reach down, grabbing herwrists and pulling her toward the edge of the mattress until her legs hang off. "On the floor. On your knees. Now."
She slides down, the hardwood biting into her skin. She looks up at me, those dark eyes wide and tracking every inch of me.
"Open,” I growl, my hand tangling in her hair to tilt her head back. I’m getting hard again—aching and heavy. Insatiable. I guide myself to her lips, the heat of her breath hitting me like a physical blow. “I want to watch you take every inch of me, little bird. Take it all, or we’re staying on this floor all night."
She doesn't need a second command. She takes me with a focus that’s purely predatory, her hands gripping my thighs. I watch her eyes go glassy as I crowd her throat, pushing until she’s gasping, her fingers digging into my quads for purchase.
The sight of her—brilliant, dangerous, and currently reduced to this—hits me like a shot of adrenaline. I watch the way her throat works, the way she tries to breathe around me, her surrender absolute and silent.
"You like the taste of it, don't you?" I look down at her. " Knowing exactly who's filling you up."
I haul her up by the armpits, her legs scrambling for a second before I spin her, slamming her back against the cold plaster of the wall. The impact makes the frames rattle. I hike her hips up, her legs locking around my waist like a vice, and I drive into her—one deep, punishing stroke that pins her against the wall.
"You love this, don't you?" I growl into her ear, my hands bruising her thighs as I set a brutal, rhythmic pace. "Me filling you with my cock, fucking you against a wall like an animal. No talking, no thinking. Just me owning every bit of you."
"Yes—God, Kade—more.” She lets out a broken, high-pitched cry, her head thrashing against the wall. “Harder. Fuck me harder.”
"Look at me," I command, and when her blown-out eyes meet mine, I hit her harder. "I'm going to ruin you for anyoneelse. You're going to be walking for a week and thinking about how I took you apart in this cabin. You're mine, little bird. Say it."
"Yours," she gasps, her fingers clawing at my shoulders. "All yours."
I don't stop until she’s a shivering wreck, her body disintegrating in my arms with a release so violent she forgets to breathe. I follow her over the ledge, my shout muffled against the junction of her neck and shoulder.
I slide her down the wall until her feet hit the floor, but her knees buckle. I catch her, hoisting her up against my chest.
"I think..." she starts, her voice barely a thread of sound as I carry her back to the ravaged bed. "I think you win."
"We both win," I grumble, my own legs feeling like lead.
She collapses into the center of the mattress. I crawl in after her, dragging the heavy quilt over us both. I pull her sweat-damp body against mine, her back to my chest, my arm hooked over her waist.
I hold her later,her back against my chest, my arm hooked over her waist. The drafty cabin air cools the sweat on our skin.
