Page 101 of Possessive Ink

By the time we crawl into bed, I’m exhausted and wrung out. Atticus’s normally insatiable appetite for worshipping me seems to have been amped up by the reminder that we have to go to work in the morning and by teasing him about forgetting about me.

“One more,” he coaxes, parting my legs and finding my swollen clit with his fingers.

The quiet buzzing makes me tense moments before he positions the lemon-shaped toy he used on me a few days ago over my clit. The rhythmic sucking sensation makes me cry out as he pushes his cock into me from behind. I’m so wet from his cum and my own arousal that his thick girth slides easily inside of me, and I whine loudly as my body starts to hurtle toward another orgasm.

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve come tonight, enough that it feels like my body seems to start searching for it the moment his fingers, tongue, or cock enter me. With the toy mercilessly sucking on my clit and his dick hitting the perfect spot inside of me, I know it won’t take long for me to explode.

“Sir,” I moan loudly.

“Such a pretty sound,” he coos into my ear. “Come for me, Princess. I love you so much. Never forget that. Never think that you’re not the most important thing in my life. Never forget that you’re mine.”

As I fall over the edge, my vision darkens, and I’m not sure if I pass out or simply fall asleep, but the next thing I know, I’m waking up to the sound of an alarm.

“Come on, Princess. It’s time to get up,” Atticus rasps gruffly against my ear.

As I try to move, I realize that I’m sticky and a little sore. “Oh god,” I groan, shuffling to the side of the bed and sitting up before I slowly maneuver my feet to the floor.

“Princess?” he says.

“I’m okay, just a little sore,” I admit.

“Let me carry you,” he offers, climbing out of the other side of the bed and striding around to me.

Instead of refusing, I lift my arms into the air and let him pick me up and carry me into the shower. After he turns on the water, he walks us under it, only lowering me to the floor when he absolutely has to.

Squeezing some soap into his hands, he lathers my body in it, starting at my toes and working up my legs until he reaches my sex. Parting my legs a little with his hands, he gently washes me, a smug smirk curling the sides of his lips.

“Why are you smirking?” I question.

“Because I can still feel me all over your cunt.”

His fingers push carefully inside of me, but when I tense, bracing myself for pain, he senses my apprehension and pulls his fingers free, continuing to work his soapy hands up my body. After he washes and conditions my hair, he quickly cleans himself before carrying me out of the shower and wrapping me in a huge, fluffy towel.

As I dry and style my hair, Atticus gets dressed in ripped jeans and a faded band t-shirt. It’s one of the more casual looks I’ve seen him wear, but with his expression dark and pensive, he looks just as intimidating as when he’s dressed in a full suit.

“Are you okay?” I ask, flipping my head upside down to fluff the curls I just put in my hair.

“No,” he answers succinctly.

“Why?”

“Because I have to drop you at work and not see you for hours on end,” he growls, like the answer should be obvious.

“Atticus.” I giggle.

“Kneel for me,” he says, pointing to the floor in front of the stool he’s sitting on.

“Now?” I gasp, glancing at the rails full of my clothes that are trying to escape out of his cabinets.

“Now, Princess.”

Sighing softly, I stand up, then walk to him, taking the hand he offers me, and lowering myself to my knees in front of him. “I need to get ready for work.”

“I know. But I’m struggling with letting you go. I planned to fuck you and fill you with my cum in the shower, but you’re sore, and I never want to hurt you.”

“You planned to what?” I gasp.

“I want me on your mind, just as much as you’ll be on mine.”