It was out.
It was finally fucking out.
I felt…free.
“I knew you were trouble when you kissed me.”
He crushed his lips to mine, violent and vicious. It was sloppy and wet and desperate. Grayson flipped me to my stomach, his cock bottoming out inside me and I sucked in air.
This position was the deepest.
His lips brushed my ear. “Breathe, little wife.”
He started a slow, gentle, ruthless rhythm until I was nothing but heat and aching. Until my stomach was a knot begging to be undone. Until every slight touch had me preening into it like a cat.
“Fuck. You’re so perfect.” He brushed the hair out of my face, lips against my neck. “My good little wife, letting me deep inside her soul.”
His approval made my skin tingle, my teeth ache.
I would do anything to hear that soft, gentle tone.
“Please,” I begged.
I don’t know what I was begging for.
Harder?
Slower?
Faster?
Just… “More,” I groaned.
Using me like a doll, he reached under and lifted me up so my ass was in the air and my cheek flush against the marble. Everything about this was wrong and so right. He burned our love onto the marble, on a floor I’d once mopped, where he’d once tormented me.
“Your soul is fucking mine, Story. Every dark corner, every bleeding piece. You don’t give that shit out to anyone ever again.”
“Yours,” I sighed. “All yours.”
He ripped my lips to his for a brief, soul-searing kiss, then he slapped my pussy again and gripped my hips, pounding.
“Whose cock is inside you?” Pound.
“Yours.” Pound.
“Who do you think about when you’re filled?” Pound.
“You.” I groaned. “Only you.”
Grayson was everywhere. His muscular thighs caged me, his carved chest and abs hot on my back. His lips and teeth kissed and bit from neck to shoulders to spine.
I was delirious with him, with his ruthless rhythm.
He was marking me. Owning me.
“You don’t have a similar piece, you are my piece,” he snarled against my flesh. “Now come on my cock, dirty nun. Your tight ass is begging to squeeze me.”
He pushed against my lower stomach as he thrust deep inside my ass.