My hand finds her throat, squeezing her as a reminder of who she belongs to.
"You're mine," I say. "No one else gets you like this. No one else gets to see you fall apart."
"Only you."
"That's right. Only me."
I squeeze her throat slightly, just enough pressure to make her gasp. Her eyes go wide and feral and I feel her clench around me.
"You like that?"
"Yes."
"Want more?"
"Yes, please…"
I squeeze a little harder, just enough to restrict her air flow. To make her feel owned.
She comes with a scream, her whole body convulsing, but I don't stop. I keep fucking her through it, chasing my own release. Her big tits bounce with every thrust, her body glistening in a sheen of sweat. Fucking stunning.
"One more," I demand. "Give me one more."
"I can't, Dom…"
"You can. You will."
I release her throat and slide my hand down to her clit. She's oversensitive, whimpering with each circle of my thumb, but I don't let up.
"Dom, it's too much!"
"You can take it, good little sluts always take it."
She's shaking, her nails digging into my back hard enough to draw blood. I feel the sting and it drives me higher.
"That's it," I growl. "Mark me, make me bleed. Show me you want this as much as I do."
Her nails drag down my spine and I groan. The pain mixes with pleasure until I can't tell them apart.
"Cum for me," I say. "Right now. Cum on my cock."
She does and I watch as her second orgasm hits her like a wave as she shouts out my name. The sound of it, it’s so loud and primal that it pushes me over the edge. I cum hard, groaning just as loud as I spill inside her, my hips jerking with each pulse. I bury my face in her neck, breathing in the scent of her skin and sex.
"Mine," I whisper against her throat. "You're mine. Always mine. No matter what names we use or where we go. You're mine."
"Yours," she breathes. "Always yours."
I collapse beside her, pulling her against me. My hand finds her throat again, resting there possessively. She doesn't move and settles her head on my chest, her breathing evening out. Welie there in the shitty room, tangled together, both of us marked and owners of each other’s souls.
And nothing, not even law enforcement will take her away from me.
I’m not sure how long it takes, but Roxy falls asleep first, her body going soft and heavy against mine. I stare at the ceiling, my hand still on her throat, feeling her pulse under my palm.
One week until we meet Marcus in Reno.
One week until we pick up the documents that will make us James and Roxy Brennan.
One week until we become official ghosts.
