A growl. "You are mine."
I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to take the words back but also recognising the forcefulness of how I'm saying them and that the way my bear surges forward each time might actually seem strange to her.
Not to me. It feels completely right.
"When did you decide this?" she asks. "Because to me, it feels like you've been avoiding me. And you keep shutting me out."
My jaw works. The cuffs rattle against the headboard as my hands tighten, looking for a way out of this that doesn't give away any more of what I really am. "Fuck."
"Beau?" Her fingertips stroke down my chest, which feels like it's being pulled apart from the inside.
"Because you couldn't get away from me fast enough once before. Who I am, what I am, that hasn't changed." It comes out rough and angry, but Lisa doesn't seem put off.
Her fingers press harder against my chest. "But I have," she whispers. "I see you now."
My eyes stay on the ceiling.
"What I felt that night terrified me, and I handled it badly. I decided it was too good to be true and pushed you away the first chance I got. That's on me."
She shifts in my lap, and I clench my jaw, trying to push down the need building inside me. This is definitely not the time.
"Lisa—"
"I'm not done." She leans forward, her weight shifting, and my wrists strain against the cuffs automatically. "Tell me this isn't just great sex."
Our eyes lock. "It's definitely not just sex."
She nibbles her lip, considering this, while my focus shifts to the red bite mark on her breast. That is, until she rocks forward, her tight pussy teasing my stiff cock that's growing harder with each tiny movement.
My arms pull against the cuffs. Harder. The headboard creaks.
"I'm scared, Beau," she says, quieter now. "Because I like you, absurd as it seems when all we do is fight, I really like you, but this won't work if you don't let me in."
I blink up at her. "You like me."
She nods and gives me a sultry smile. "I might even be falling for you." When she rises up, her hand reaching down and finding me rock hard and ready to go, she purrs and strokes me, long and hard.
Transfixed, I can only stare as she lifts higher and notches the head of my cock against her entrance before dragging the head back and forth, coating me in her wetness.
"Let me out of these," I demand, rattling the chains and attempting to sit up.
"Why?" Instead of doing what I say, she runs a hand over my taut abs and bites her lip even harder, sinking down an inch, then two.
I fall back, lifting my hips to push further inside of her, the warmth of her body curling around me, too much to take.
"Now, Lisa."
She ignores me and circles her hips, sliding lower and lower, until she's fully seated on my cock, head tipped back, eyes wide, and mouth open.
"That's so good," she moans, grinding against me so her clit rubs against my pubic bone on the outside, and my cock slides against the front wall of her channel with each small movement she makes. "Fuck, why is this so good?"
I bend my knees and lift my hips, driving up into her, but it's not enough. My fingers curl into my palm, digging in so hard, it stings. "Because we're made for each other. I told you, you're mine."
Lisa ups the tempo, her hands sliding up her toned stomach to her pebbled nipples, tweaking them, tugging and cupping her breasts. "And are you mine?"
This is fucking torture.
"Open them," I demand, growing more and more agitated as she rides me, one hand sliding lower now.
