My breathing shatters and fogs against the leather of the sofa, but I stare at him over my shoulder. At his larger-than-life physique, at the ruthless virility behind it.
He’s the man of my dreams and there will never be a day where I’m not attracted to him.
He lifts his T-shirt over his head, and I take in the veiny hands with long fingers and soak in the view of his rippled muscles and godlike physique.
A tinge of pain flashes through me at the sight of his bullet wound, a wound I gave him that neither of us will forget for the rest of our lives.
Me, because hurting him was worse than hurting myself.
Him, because the wound will remind him of how much he wants vengeance.
“If I have to repeat myself another time, things won’t end well for you.”
I turn around, propped up on my elbows, and meet his darkened gaze. I must be selfish, because all I want is to get lost in this moment. “Make me.”
A low grunt slips from his mouth before he’s on me. His fingers latch onto my throat and he uses it to haul me up, nearly lifting me in the air.
His hold isn’t threatening, but it’s controlling, and I have no choice but to look at him and drown in those eyes I thought I’d lost.
“As I said. Strip,” he repeats again. “And that’s ten.”
My lips part. “You want me to strip in this position?”
“You don’t want it to become twenty, now do you?”
My shaky fingers undo the zipper of my dress and I push the straps away until the piece of clothing hits the carpet.
Creighton’s gaze falls to my lace bra and panties and he grunts. “Fucking purple.”
I love how much I affect him.
The way he looks at me like he’ll never look at anyone the same way.
The way he wants me with abundance and refuses to see anything past it.
“All of it, Annika.”
It takes me several moments to unhook my bra, partly because of my unsteady hands and partly because of his hungry gaze.
When I take more time than needed to pull off my panties, he bunches the material in his fist.
“No, not Simone!”
A muscle clenches in his jaw but he pauses. “Who the fuck is Simone?”
“Simone Pérèle. The lingerie brand. Don’t rip it.” I push his hand away and try to finish the task.
The brute all but tears it to pieces.
“Creighton!”
“I’ll buy you another one.” His gaze darkens as he does a long sweep of my nakedness.
It’s crazy how my body comes alive under his attention. How everything just…falls into place.
He doesn’t need to touch me to provoke this feeling of irreversible belonging.
I was his even when I thought we were over.
I was his when I was trying to move on.
I’ll always be his.
Just like he’ll always be mine.
His free hand strokes my tight nipples, making me moan, then he pinches one with sensual brutality. His palm slides down, over the red fading lashes he left on my stomach. I hiss when he presses on them and then he moves to the handprints on my ass and cups me with it.
I get on my tiptoes, both due to the dull ache and the thrill of being utterly owned.
He wiggles the butt plug that he shoved up my ass this morning and I bite my lip.
“I bet this hole is all stretched and ready for me to claim it, isn’t it?”
My teeth sink further into my lip when he glides his fingers from my ass cheek to the throbbing wetness between my legs.
The slap on my pussy comes so fast and without warning that I yelp and push farther into him.
“Shh, we haven’t even gotten started yet.” He slaps me again and thrusts three fingers inside me at the same time.
The friction from the pain creates a dizzying rhythm I can’t keep up with. A hurricane of emotions that starts where he’s touching me and spreads all over my skin.
His hold on my throat keeps me immobile so that he can do whatever he pleases.
I grab onto his bicep, not because I need balance, but more due to the inherent need to touch him. I’m as desperate for him as he is for me.
I want to be owned by him.
Only him.
“Do you feel how much your cunt is swallowing my fingers, little purple? Hear that sucking sound it’s making to welcome me home?” His rhythm intensifies. “Because this is my home, you are my home, and I’ll make you admit I’m yours.”
A moan is the only answer I give. It’s kind of hard to speak when spurts of pleasure shoot inside me, building, heightening, and wrecking me.
“You’ll have no other home but me.” He curls his fingers and thrusts. “You won’t belong to anyone else but me, are we clear?”