“I can tell.” Throwing my head back, I made an oomph sound as my head hit the brick wall, but the pain barely registered.
“You want to know how much?” His lips curled around my ear and my heart doubled its pace. Did I want to know how much? Was the earth round?
I could feel his hand moving between our bodies, and then the warm velvety tip of his cock touched my tortured flesh. I moaned loudly, not even trying to be quiet. What would be the point? I already knew I wouldn’t be quiet once he slipped that beast inside me.
“Yes.” Clutching at his shoulders, I wiggled against him. “Please, Fang.”
He thrust upwards, filling me with one smooth stroke, his legs bent so he could push up hard, giving me no room for escape. Not that I’d have tried.
“I like it when you beg, Gypsy.” He pulled away and thrust back with enough force to rock my head back against the wall. “Say please again.”
Christ. My body spasmed around him, wanting more than his slow even strokes. My eyelids fluttered closed.
“Please, Fang.”
Wrapping my legs more firmly around his waist, I tried to move, to build up the pace so I could find my own release, but his grip on me kept me exactly where he wanted me.
“Fuck me, Fang, please.”
Two minutes of him being in my body and I was pleading with him.
Fang's chuckle was low and dirty as he rolled his hips into me. “Are you mine?”
In answer I groaned, yanking his head back up to mine so I could kiss him and stop him talking any more.
I didn’t want to talk, not right then.
Gripping my chin, he forced me to meet his eyes. “Are. You. Mine?” He punctuated each word with a violent thrust.
“Yes.” The word tumbled from my lips before I could think about what I was saying. Was I his? Yes, at that moment I was totally, one hundred percent his. Did I want to be his for all the world to see? Also yes. There was just something about him, that even when he made me want to pull my own hair out in frustration, I couldn’t resist.
A connection.
A real life connection. Something I had thought I would never have again. Hell, it was something that I hadn’t felt so strongly ever before. My previous relationships had been steady and safe. Boring. And where had that gotten me? With a crazed stalker who wouldn’t leave me alone, even in death.
Fang was hot and dangerous, and he should have frightened me, yet all I felt for him was need.
Maybe agreeing to be his was the wrong thing to do, but with him fucking my body and setting it alight, it was everything I wanted.
He was everything I wanted.
He could have asked me to marry him and I would have agreed as long as he kept fucking me the way he was.
“Good.”
There was no more talking then. Fang took my body in a way that had me clawing at his shoulders and neck. My nails broke his skin and left red welts against his tan.
This wasn't like the other times we had been together, which had been solely about a release or even like the previous night where he had been practically loving in his attentions. This was the perfect mixture of both of them.
In his head, he owned me now. I was his. His woman, his property. I might not have known what that meant exactly, but I knew deep down I wanted it.
And I wanted more of what he was giving me.
“Please, Fang.” I needed more. The torturous pleasure he was giving me was borderline painful. I didn’t know how much longer I could cope hanging on to the brink like I was. I needed to cum.
“Mine, fucking hell, Gypsy, I am never letting you go...” Driving his hips upwards, he doubled his pace. My back burnt from the friction against the wall, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was him and what he was doing to me.
Biting down on his shoulder, I muffled the sound of my screams as my orgasm washed over me. It came in waves, thick and fast. My whole body spasmed around him, drawing him in deeper, and I knew the moment he lost control.
