The Truth

“I’m not her,” Tiffany says quietly, approaching me. “I’m not her, Daniel.”

I nod, my throat getting tight with emotion. “No, you’re not. You’re strong, so much so that you carry the weight of everyone else on your shoulders. Because you care that much. You would never abandon someone, but that doesn’t mean I trust it. In fact, that scares me even more because with every day, every touch, you slip into my heart more and more, filling it with hope. And I want to trust it. I want to trust you so fucking bad. But I’m scared.”

“You’re scared? You’re my fantasy come true, all I’ve wanted, and if this goes south, I’ll lose not only you but my best friend,” Tiffany says, her voice dropping to a frightened whisper. “Daniel . . . I’m betting it all on us.”

Her words quench the last of my anger, and I reach for her. “You’re not going to lose Elle. Or me, Tiffany. You’re mine.”

She looks up, tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes. “Say it again.”

“You’re not going to lose Elle.”

She smiles, tears still there but the smallest sliver of humor seeping back in between us. “No, the other part.”

I open my hand again, beseeching her. “You’re mine. And I’m yours.”

She takes a step, and I think I’m going to fold her into an embrace when she suddenly leaps at me. Thankfully, I’m half ready, and I catch her in my hands as her legs go around my waist, locking us together. Her skirt bunches as she climbs me, getting higher and higher, legs tighter and tighter.

“You’re mine, Daniel Stryker,” she growls before her mouth attacks mine.

Her kiss is truly hungry, as though she wants to taste my words, so I murmur them again into the shared air between us. “You’re mine, Tiffany. Mine.”

She whimpers, but it’s the only thing soft about her as she kisses my jaw, nibbling her way to my ear. I need my hands, need to touch her all over. I search for a wall and spin her, slamming her back against the door. She grunts at the contact, not of the wood at her back but of my cock as I find the cradle of her warmth. Even through her panties, I can feel her heat against my slacks.

Pinned between me and the door, she’s at my mercy. I grab a handful of her hair, tilting her head to the side. “Is this what you want?” I ask, reaching between her legs. “To be my woman?”

Tiffany grinds against my thumb, her lashes fluttering in pleasure. “More . . . please . . . more.”

She bucks her hips as much as she can, searching for something only I can give her. I pull her panties to the side, slamming two fingers deep into her wetness. She spasms against me instantly, crying out loudly. She bumps her head against the door a few times in agonized pleasure before she thrashes it back and forth, her face a vision of release.

Distantly, I hear a door open and then a hesitant knock on the other side of Tiffany’s door. From a bare inch of wood away, a voice asks, “Tiffany? Everything okay?”

The neighbor. She must’ve heard every shout, every accusation, and every ecstatic sound Tiffany is making even still. Except that she’s not sure if these are screams of pleasure or pain. Leaning into Tiffany, I whisper into her ear, fucking her slow and deep with my fingers.

“Tell her. Tell her you’re okay. Now that you know you’re mine.” I bite at her neck, sucking at the sensitive skin there, wanting to mark her so she never again questions my feelings for her.

Tiffany cries out again, turning her head to call through the door, “I’m fine, Carissa. Fiiine.”

Carissa doesn’t sound convinced. “You sure? You sound weird.”

I rub that spot inside Tiffany, making her hips slam hard and fast against the door. She cries out, “Yes, yes! I’m . . . goood!”

Carissa must realize what’s happening and that she’s no longer required, because I hear her fast steps across the hall and then her door slams shut. With a satisfied smirk, I imagine her peeking through the peephole again, but it doesn’t matter.

What matters is Tiffany.

I pull my hard cock free and lower her onto me, ignoring the rest of our clothes to thrust deep inside her. Tiffany cries out again, clinging to me as we meet, our hips slapping wetly and our bodies tight.

With every thrust, I grunt a single word, holding her tighter.

“Mine.”

Yes, I’m claiming her. Yes, I know that I don’t really ‘own’ her. But the truth is, right now, I’d fight with all my heart and strength for her.

I’d die for her.

“Daniel . . . Daniel . . .” Tiffany gasps, her pussy tightening around me as she rises further and further toward the edge. “Oh, fuck, I love you!”