"No." His hand fists in my hair and yanks my head up. "I want to hear you and want everyone in this fucking building to know who's claiming you."
"Caspian," I gasp out.
"That's right." He doesn't stop, just keeps working me higher. "Going to make you come on my fingers. Then I'm going to fuck you and fill you and claim you properly. All night until you're so full of me you can't think straight."
The promise makes me clench around his fingers. His fingers curl deeper, thumb pressing against my clit, and the dual stimulation is too much. Pleasure builds fast and overwhelming, coiling tight in my core.
"Come," he orders. "Now."
I shatter. My pussy clenches around his fingers in rhythmic pulses and I cry out his name. He works me through it, doesn't let up until I'm shaking and oversensitive.
Then he pulls his fingers out and I hear him lining himself up behind me. The broad head of his cock presses against my entrance. He grips my hips and drives into me in one brutal thrust.
I scream. The sound tears from my throat before I can stop it. He's huge and the angle is devastating, deeper than I thoughtpossible. My pussy stretches around him, burning with the intrusion, and it's so much I can't think or breathe.
He doesn't give me time to adjust. Just pulls almost all the way out and slams back in. The force rocks me forward and his hands on my hips drag me back to meet him.
"Take it," he snarls. "All of it."
He sets a punishing rhythm. Each thrust drives deeper and I can feel him in my stomach, stretching me wider than Julian ever did. The sound of skin slapping skin echoes through the room along with my ragged breathing and his growls. His balls hit my clit with every thrust and the stimulation is almost too much.
But underneath the overwhelming intensity, pleasure builds. My body adjusts to his size and to the brutal pace until it's not just bearable but perfect. The rough claiming my wolf has been craving since the arena.
"More," I hear myself beg. "Harder."
"Fucking perfect." He reaches around and finds my clit, rubbing harsh circles that make my thighs shake. "You going to come on my cock already?"
The orgasm builds fast, pressure coiling tight in my core. His fingers on my clit, his cock pounding into me, the rough dominance in his voice, it's too much.
"Come," he orders. "Now."
I shatter again. My pussy clenches around him in waves and I cry out with the intensity of it. He doesn't slow down, just fucks me through it until I'm shaking and oversensitive and begging.
He pulls out and I whimper at the loss. Before I can protest he flips me onto my back, grabs my thighs and shoves them up toward my chest, folding me nearly in half.
"Need to see your face for this part."
He slams back in and the new angle punches the air from my lungs. He's impossibly deep, hitting spots inside me that makestars burst behind my eyes. I claw at his shoulders trying to find something to anchor to.
Blood wells under my nails where I scratch him. He looks down at the marks and grins with feral possessiveness. "Mark me up, little wolf. Let everyone see what you did."
His hips snap forward in a brutal rhythm and I'm helpless beneath him, pinned and claimed and completely at his mercy. One of his hands wraps around my throat without squeezing, just holding. A reminder of who's in control.
The pressure of his hand sends another wave of heat through me. I shouldn't like being held down like this but I do. My body responds to his dominance, pussy clenching around him.
"Feel that?" His voice is rough. "Your body knows what it wants and knows who it belongs to."
"Caspian," I gasp. "It's so much, I can't..."
"You can." He leans down and his teeth scrape along the curve of my shoulder where it meets my neck. "You were made for this and made for me."
"Ready?" His breath ghosts over my skin.
His eyes drop to my shoulder, the left one, where Julian's scar sits raised and silver-pale. He goes still for a moment. His thumb finds it, traces the edge of it slowly, and something shifts in his expression that isn't anger. It's recognition. Acceptance.
We reached a truce. He knows what I am and what I carry. His thumb presses once, gentle, against Julian's mark.
Then he turns his head and his lips find my other shoulder, the right one, unmarked, still his to take, and I understand what he's doing without either of us saying a word.
