“Love this ass,” he rasped, thrusting harder, the bed creaking, his balls slapping against my slick core with every stroke. “Love how you swallow my cock with it, how you beg like my perfect, good girl. Every hole is going to be full of me, Ophelia.”
His pace turned wild, the piercing hitting spots that made my eyes roll back, my body shaking with every thrust. I was lost in it, in him, my moans turning to sobs, my clit throbbing under his fingers. The mirror reflected the rawness—sweat-slick skin, my ass rippling with every slap of his hips, his face twisted in ecstasy.
“Come for me,” he demanded in a voice breaking with need. “Come with my cock in your ass; let me feel it.”
His fingers pressed harder, thrusts driving deeper, and I shattered. My body convulsed, ass clenching around him in tight, greedy pulses as waves of pleasure ripped through me, more of me dripping down my thighs.
He roared, slamming in one last time, spilling deep inside me…hot, thick, endless. His cum flooded my ass in powerful bursts, marking me from the inside out. Then he stilled, buried to the hilt, his weight pressing me into the mattress, his breath ragged against my neck.
We stayed like that, locked together, trembling. I soaked in the feel of him, his cock pulsing inside me, his cum warm and heavy, his sweat-slick chest sealed to my back, his arms caging me, his scent everywhere. Every inch of me was his, filled,claimed, and dripping with him. The mirror caught it all: my flushed, wrecked face and his possessive grip.
I never wanted to move.
He pulled out slowly, though, his cum leaking from me, and flipped me onto my back, kissing me soft and deep, his hands gentle now as he traced my skin.
“Don’t hide from me, Ophelia,” he murmured hoarsely, his forehead pressed to mine. “You’re perfect. Just likethis.”
I melted into him, body sore, sated, his…and in the mirror’s reflection, I wondered if maybe I could believe him.
And the real me, the one that had always been wrong, thefreak, so to speak, could believe him, too.
MATTY
Ophelia slept like peace had finally found her.
Her lashes brushed her cheeks, her mouth curved around me in the faintest smile, and it felt like the whole room had narrowed to just her.
Lamplight pooled over her collarbone, tracing the edge of her jaw, and I felt it in my chest like a fist. Everything I hadn’t known I was searching for was right there, breathing soft and steady in my lap.
For someone so small, she was the most dangerous thing I’d ever touched.
We’d cleaned up—quick, quiet, with towels and whispered laughs—but she’d tugged my hand before I could pull away.
“I want you in my mouth when I fall asleep,” she’d said shyly, already half asleep, her voice thick with afterglow.
I hadn’t argued.
Now she lay curled against me, lips wrapped soft and warm around my cock, the head resting heavy on her tongue. No suction, no movement—just the steady heat of her breath, the velvet seal of her mouth, the slow pulse of her throat every time she swallowed in her sleep.
My fingers threaded through her hair, anchoring her gently, and I felt every tiny shift, every unconscious lick, like a promise she didn’t know she was keeping.
I stayed half hard inside her, the ache sweet and endless.
Her body rose and fell with mine, slick skin pressed to slick skin, the sheets still damp beneath us. The room smelled of sex and her, and I let it sink into my lungs, into my blood.
She’d taken everything tonight, every inch, every drop…and still wanted more. Still wantedme.
I brushed my thumb across her cheek, tracing the swell of her lip stretched around me. She sighed in her sleep, a soft, content sound that vibrated straight through my cock and into my spine.
I dragged my hand lower, over the damp heat between her thighs, and I pushed inside her briefly so that I could spreadusacross her skin. Something dark and alive twisted through me as I stared at the shiny cum.
Possession. Worship. Whatever it was, it was her. Always her.
My obsession for her burned hotter.
I thought about how she’d freaked out earlier, crying like the world had ended just because I’d seen her journal. The pages had been filled with things she thought were terrible secrets…my name scrawled in her handwriting, her first name next to my last. Like it was some kind of crime to imagine a future that already felt inevitable.
I didn’t think it was a big deal. Hell, didn’t most girls do that at some point? I was sure Jace had a journal somewhere withRiley’s name in it…and possibly mine, with how much he liked to snuggle.
