He shakes his head. "You're beautiful. And your face when you come on my cock will be even prettier. I have no doubts about it."
"If you're so sure," I breathe, "then you should work for it."
He smirks and guides his cock inside me again. His hands grip my hips, making sure I don't slip on the wet tile. He flexes his knees and slams up into me, burying his cock as deep as humanly possible.
Then he keeps going.
Of course he's strong as hell. He's ex-military and a rancher. He probably lifts bales of hay and wrestles cattle for fun. I should have seen this coming. Should have known he could fuck me like this—relentless, powerful, never getting tired.
My legs are trembling, my feet hovering now as he lifts me, fucking me even better. His muscles bulge with the effort, and I can't help but touch them. His arms, his six-pack abs, his chest. I want to touch everywhere, memorize every inch of him.
But he has other ideas.
He pins both my hands above my head with one of his, his grip firm but not painful. His other hand grabs my ass, holding me up, controlling my body completely.
"You're mine now," he growls. "Mine, Lily. Say it."
It's the hottest fucking thing a man has ever said to me.
"I'm yours," I gasp. "But only after you finish inside me. You have to mark me. Claim me properly."
Something breaks inside him. I can see it in his eyes. The last thread of control snapping. His thrusts become frantic, desperate, his cock hitting so deep it's almost painful but in the best way.
It doesn't take more than ten seconds before he's coming, filling me with thick, hot spurts of cum. I can feel his cock throbbing with each load. One, two, three, his warm seed inside me and already starting to drip out.
But he doesn't stop fucking me. Keeps thrusting even as he comes, making sure every last drop goes as deep as possible.
"Making sure," he pants against my ear, "that every inch of your pussy is marked by my cum. That you'll feel me dripping out of you all day. That you'll remember who you belong to."
"Mason," I whimper, my own orgasm building again from his words, from the feeling of being so thoroughly claimed.
"Come for me," he commands. "Come on my cock while I'm still filling you up."
And I do. I come so hard I nearly black out, my pussy clenching around his still-throbbing cock, milking every last drop from him. He holds me through it, his hands gentle now, soothing, even as his cock stays buried inside me.
We stay like that for a long moment, both of us panting, the shower water cooling around us. His forehead rests against mine, and when I finally open my eyes, he's smiling.
"Worth the wait?" he asks.
"So worth it," I breathe. "But Mason?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't think I can walk to Sarah's now. My legs are jelly."
He laughs, and the sound is beautiful. "Then I'll carry you."
"You can't carry me. I'm too heavy."
"Don't. Don't talk about yourself like that. You're perfect, Lily. Every fucking inch of you."
"Do you really think that?" I ask, my voice smaller than I want it to be.
Vulnerable in a way that makes me feel exposed even though we're already naked, pressed together in this shower with his cum still dripping out of me.
"I do." His voice is firm, certain. No hesitation.
I hug him then, wrapping my arms around his neck, pressing my body against his. He's so solid. So warm. So real. And for the first time in years, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, I'm not the disaster I've always thought I was.
