Page 29 of The Break Down

“Say it.”

“It’s for you,” she whispers. “Only you.”

That does something to me.

Something permanent.

Something dangerous.

“You’re mine now,” I say, licking into that fucking mouth of hers like the greedy savage I am. “You understand? You give me this, Red, and I won’t stop. I’ll ruin you for anyone else.”

“Then ruin me,” she begs.

And now I know I won’t stop.

My fingers stroke her slowly, teasing, circling her clit, while she gasps and trembles under my hands.

She grabs at my shoulders, my arms, my waist, clutching at me like she needs me.

Like she feels what I feel.

Like this is more than just sex.

And maybe it is.

Maybe it always was.

I want her to fall apart in my arms.

To cry my name when she shatters.

To come with my fingers inside her, my mouth locked on hers, swallowing every broken, breathless sound she makes.

Fuck, I want everything.

Her body, her breath, her goddamn soul.

I want to mark her. Brand her. Own her.

I want there to be no inch of her untouched.

No part of her skin that doesn’t remember me, ache for me, belong to me.

And it’s driving me mad because I can’t do it here. Not like this. Not out in the open where anyone could walk around the corner and see her like this—so wrecked, so mine.

But I can have something.

It’s sick. Perverse. But I don’t give two shits.

I start bucking my hips, grinding against her in time with the rhythm of my fingers pumping inside her.

The head of my cock drags along her soft, bare belly, and I swear to god it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever felt.

Her skin is dewy, flushed, and sticky with both our sweat. Her breath catches every time I press deeper into her pussy, every time I curl my fingers just right and twist my thumb over her clit.

Her hips jerk, her thighs tremble, and she gasps. It’s raw and high-pitched and perfect.

It's too much.

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