I scream.
Not from pain. From the feeling of fullness, of being claimed, of his cock hitting something deep inside me that sends lightning up my spine. He sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against my ass, one hand still pinning my neck while the other grips my hip hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises.
"This what you wanted?" he growls. "Wanted me to use you? To fuck you like you're nothing?"
"Yes." The word comes out broken. "Yes, fuck, yes—"
He pulls out, flips me onto my back, and shoves back inside before I can catch my breath. This angle is different. Deeper. I wrap my legs around his waist and dig my heels into his ass, urging him faster.
His hand wraps around my throat. Not squeezing. Just holding. A reminder of who's in control.
"Look at me, little cock slut," he orders.
I open my eyes. I hadn't realized I'd closed them.
He's beautiful like this. Dominant. Animalistic, but in a way that doesn’t involve torture. The monster he is being poured into the snapping of his hips against mine. His hair is a mess, hislips swollen, sweat dripping down his temples. The cold mask is gone completely, and what's left is raw and desperate and hungry.
"You're my cock slut," he says. "Say it."
"Yours."
"Again."
"I'm your little whore." The words come out like a sob. "Jagger, please, I'm yours, I'm—"
His hand tightens on my throat just enough to make my vision blur, and he fucks into me harder, the headboard slamming against the wall with every thrust. My cock is trapped between us, getting friction from his stomach, and I'm so close I can taste it.
"Come," he orders. "Now."
My body obeys before my brain catches up. The orgasm rips through me, whiting out my vision, and I'm cumming all over both of us, clenching around his cock so hard that he groans and follows me over the edge. I feel him pulse inside me, pissed I can’t feel his cum because of the condom, but knowing my ass made this brute lose control sets off another wave of pleasure that leaves me shaking.
He collapses on top of me. His weight is crushing, his cock still buried in my ass, his breath ragged against my shoulder. I can feel his heart pounding against my back, feel the tremors running through his body. He's shaking. The cold, controlled Architect is shaking like he's falling apart.
I reach blindly, find his hand, and lace our fingers together.
Neither of us speaks.
His softening cock slips out of me eventually, and he pulls off the condom and throws it on the floor. The sensation is filthy, possessive, exactly what I never knew I needed. I've been fucked before, but never like this. Never like I mattered. Never like the person inside me was trying to crawl into my skin and live there.
He rolls off me and onto his back, one arm thrown over his eyes. His chest rises and falls rapidly, his stomach muscles twitching with aftershocks.
"That was..." I trail off, not sure how to finish.
"A mistake?"
I laugh. I can't help it. "If that's what your mistakes feel like, please keep making them."
He doesn't respond. Doesn't move.
I turn my head to look at him. In the low light, I can see the tension in his jaw, the rigid line of his shoulders. He's retreating already. Building the walls back up.
I reach over and pull his arm away from his face.
"Don't," I say.
"Don't what?"
"Don't disappear on me. Not after that."
