Page 96 of The Sentinel

He flipped me onto my stomach in one swift motion, dragging me onto my knees, his body caging mine, covering me, dominating me.

His hand fisted in my hair, tugging my head back just enough to make me arch, just enough to make me feel the sharp edge of control he still had left.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, baby,” hewarned, his voice like gravel and thunder, his cock teasing my entrance, sending shudders through me. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

I turned my head slightly, my lips curving. Daring him.

“Show me.”

A growl tore from his throat, and then he was inside me again, pushing in so deep I saw stars.

I cried out, my fingers fisting the sheets as he fucked me like he meant to leave a mark, like he needed to rewrite the pain I’d endured with pleasure.

Every thrust was relentless, brutal, his hips snapping forward as his grip tightened on my waist, pulling me back onto him like he couldn’t stand to be even a fraction away.

I felt wrecked.

I felt worshipped.

Every inch of me was his, claimed and possessed in a way that was more than just physical. It was deeper than that, a burn in my soul, a hunger in my bones.

And he felt it, too. I could tell in the way he grunted my name, in the way his fingers dug into my skin like he’d never let go again.

One of his hands slid around to my throat, not squeezing, just holding me, tilting my head back until his lips dragged along the shell of my ear.

His voice was a snarl, a promise as his hips drove into me harder.

“You think you can just say you love me and not expect me to ruin you for anyone else?”

I shuddered violently, my whole body trembling beneath him. “Marcus?—”

“Say it again,” he demanded, his grip tightening just slightly, just enough to own every inch of me.

My entire body tightened, pleasure coiling low, winding tighter and tighter.

“I love you,” I gasped. “I love you.”

His body stiffened behind me, his thrusts turning erratic, desperate.

He dragged me up, pressing my back against his chest, his hand sliding between my thighs, finding the most sensitive part of me, rubbing, circling, owning.

“Come for me, baby,” he ordered, his voice nothing but gravel and fire.

And I did.

I shattered.

Completely.

Pleasure ripped through me, a white-hot explosion that left me shaking, pulsing around him, my fingers grasping for him like he was the only thing tethering me to reality.

Marcus cursed harshly, his grip bruising, his body surging forward one last time before he followed me over the edge, spilling inside me, claiming me in every possible way.

I felt it. Felt the way he shuddered, felt the way he buried his face against my neck, his breath ragged, his hands still gripping me like I could disappear again if he let go.

I turned my head slightly, kissing him softly, lazily.

His lips softened against mine, and when he pulled out, he didn’t let me go. He flipped me onto my back, pulling me into his chest, wrapping me up in his arms.

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