"Legion," I gasp, already close to the edge. "Please?—"
He pulls away abruptly, leaving me trembling and desperate. "Not yet."
Standing up, he positions himself behind me, the head of his cock teasing my entrance. I try to push back, to take him inside, but his hand on my hip holds me still.
"Beg for it," he demands.
"Fuck you," I spit back, though we both know I'll give in. I always do.
His palm connects with my ass in a sharp slap that makes me yelp. His command darker now. "I said, beg for it."
"Please," I whisper, my voice breaking with need as I swallow what's left of my pride. "Please fuck me, Legion. I need you inside me."
Before the words are even out of my mouth, he does. He slams his cock into my pussy with such force, my face is pushed against the silo.
Then he leans closer, his breath hot against my ear, his chest pressing against my back. "More. Talk to me, Savannah. Tell me exactly what you want. Every dirty thought that's been haunting you since I went away. Every shameful fantasy you touched yourself to while I was locked in that cell. Every filthy detail you've been saving for this moment right here."
"I want you to fuck me so hard I can't walk straight tomorrow," I breathe, my voice shaking. "I want to feel you for days. Want bruises on my hips from your fingers. Want to be sore every time I sit down at breakfast with Cash and remember exactly how you wrecked me."
"This what you want?" he grunts, fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise. "This what you left your fancy house for? To get fucked by trailer trash?"
"Yes," I moan, pushing back to meet each thrust. "God, yes."
He reaches around, fingers finding my clit, circling it in time with his thrusts. "You like being my whore, don't you? Rich girl slumming it with a criminal."
The words should offend me, but they only make me hotter. This is what we are now—all the hurt and anger channeled into something physical, something we can control.
"I'm yours," I pant, feeling my orgasm building. "Only yours."
He slows suddenly, his thrusts becoming shallow, teasing. "Show me. Touch yourself."
I reach between my legs, my fingers finding their way to join his on my clit, our touch intertwining in a desperate, intimatedance. The dual sensation sends electric currents racing through my body, overwhelming every sense until I'm trembling against him, gasping for air. My lungs burn with each shallow breath as the pressure builds within me, coiling tighter and tighter like a spring about to snap. I'm balanced on the knife's edge of release, so achingly close that coherent thought dissolves into pure, primal need, leaving me dizzy and desperate in the darkness of our sacred, rusted cathedral.
His cock presses harder against my entrance, just barely breaching me. Not enough. Never enough.
"Keep going," he growls.
"I touched myself every night you were gone," I confess, the words spilling out in a rush now that I've started. "In my bed at the mansion, in the shower, in my car parked on the side of the road when I couldn't wait anymore. I'd think about your hands on me, your mouth, the way you look at me like I'm the only thing in the world that matters, even though we both know that's a lie."
He spits on my asshole, rubbing it around with the tip of his cock. "What else?" His voice is rough, strained with his own need as he presses the head of his dick against my tight resistance.
"I imagined this," I admit, shame and arousal mixing into something toxic and addictive. "You bending me over, taking what you want without asking. Using me like I'm nothing but a hole for you to fuck whenever you get bored with your club brothers. Making me beg for your cock in my ass like some desperate whore who can't live without it."
"Because you can't," he says, and it's not a question.
"No," I whisper, finally admitting the truth we've both been dancing around. "I can't. I need you inside me, Legion. Any way you want to take me, I’m yours. I need you to fuck me until I forget my own name, forget Marcus, and Cash, and every single obligation waiting for me back at that house. I need you to makeme feel like I'm yours, even if it's only for tonight. Even if you're going to leave me again tomorrow, and not answer my texts, and pretend I don't exist until the next time you're hard and desperate."
The words hang in the air between us, too honest, too raw. This is what he does to me—strips away every layer of polish and performance until there's nothing left but the desperate girl underneath who would do anything, say anything, to keep him.
"I fantasized about you fucking me in front of the whole club again," I continue, giving him everything now because what's left to protect? "Not just showing them I'm yours, but letting them watch while you use me. While you prove that the Ashby princess is really just your personal fuck toy. I touched myself thinking about you sharing me with?—"
"No." The word comes out sharp, possessive. His cock slams into me without warning, filling me completely in one brutal thrust that tears a scream from my throat.
"You're mine," he snarls against my ear, his hips already setting a punishing rhythm. "Only mine. Say it."
"Yours," I gasp, my hands scrabbling against the metal wall for purchase as he fucks into me mercilessly. "Only yours, always yours?—"
"Louder."
