"I can't!"
"You will." He slows fractionally. Not stopping but no longer driving me toward the edge. "Not until I say."
I whimper. I'm so close. Right on the edge. My pussy is clenching around him, desperate for release.
"Please, Luca, please?—"
"Who do you belong to?" His thumb presses harder on my clit and I nearly sob.
"You!"
"Who owns this pussy?"
"You do!"
"Who's the only man who's ever going to fuck you again?"
"You! Only you!" I'm shaking. Tears streaming down my face mixing with the shower water. "Please let me come, please, I need?—"
"Come." One word. Absolute command. "Now."
I shatter.
My pussy clamps down on his cock so hard I feel him groan. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me. My whole body convulses. I'm dimly aware that I'm screaming his name but I can't stop.
He keeps fucking me through it. Keeps rubbing my clit. Wringing every last tremor from my body until I'm boneless. Sobbing. Completely wrung out.
Only then does he let himself go.
His rhythm breaks. Gets rougher. More erratic. He buries his face in my neck and fucks into me like an animal. No control. Just raw need.
"Mine," he growls against my throat. "Mine, mine, mine?—"
He comes with a roar that echoes off the tile. I feel him pulse inside me. I feel the warmth of his release. His hips jerk several more times before he finally stills.
We stay like that for a long moment. He's still inside me. I'm wrapped around him. We're both shaking. The water is still running.
Finally, he lifts his head. He looks at me with something fierce and possessive in his eyes.
Then he kisses me. Hard. Possessive. His hand fists in my hair, forcing my head back. Marking me as his.
When he finally sets me down, my legs won't hold me. He holds me upright by the arms until I can stand.
We finish the shower in silence. He washes my hair—controlling even this, deciding when I'm clean. I let him. It's easier than thinking.
My body feels like it's been taken apart and put back together. I can still feel where he was inside me. There's a pleasant ache. The proof of ownership.
Afterward, he dries me off with a towel and leads me to his bed.
I don't ask.
He pulls back the covers and I climb in. The mattress is perfect. Not too soft. Not too hard. I sink into it and close my eyes.
I feel the bed dip as he gets in beside me. His arm comes around my waist. He pulls me back against his chest.
"A man died in your living room tonight."
"Yes."
