Page 137 of Renegade Rift

“Are you sure?” I ask one final time, giving her the option to tell me to fuck off with my ideas of forever.

She nods. “Make me yours.”

Fuck me.

Insanity takes over, because I’ve never pulled back and slid into a woman so quickly before, sheathing myself to the hilt.

“Mine,” I growl at the same time Juliet cries out, and the orgasm she was chasing takes over her body in a whirlwind of shudders and shakes. “You were made for me, Juliet.”

Her pussy tightens around me in response to my words, pulsing in time with the beat of my heart.

God, she’s magnificent. Perfect. Everything and more.

Juliet continues to thrust her hips, and I piston mine to meet hers, letting her use my cock as her means of pleasure.

It’s quick and dirty, and quite possibly the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.

When the waves start to recede, I lower myself to my elbows and press my forehead to hers. “Say it again.”

“What?” Her voice is full of whimsy and lust.

“Say you’re mine.”

Seconds pass like minutes as I wait, desperate to hear those words.

Juliet smiles and lifts herself to press a kiss to my lips. “I’m yours, Ford.”

My dick twitches inside her, and she lets out a laugh.

“That laugh,” I rasp, rolling my hips forward in long languid strokes. “Do you know what that laugh does to me? Really any sound you make, but especially your laugh.”

“Tell me.”

“I live for them.” Stroke. “They undo me and remind me you’re here.” Stroke “And now that you’ve said you’re mine, I don’t think any other sound will ever make my dick as hard as it is right now.”

“Well then,” she says, not missing a beat. “Let’s see if crying your name will make you come harder than before.”

My hips sputter. “Fuck, Juliet, where did that mouth come from?”

“Someone taught me it’s okay to say the inside thoughts sometimes.”

I dip my lips to hers and whisper against them. “Yes, please.”

“Now make love to me, baby.”

“With pleasure.”

I capture her lips with mine, and this time when I piston my hips, it’s nothing like before. My strokes aren’t quick or frantic. They’re deep, pointed and unhurried, meant to leave a mark within and communicate all the things I haven’t been able to with words.

“Oh God,” Juliet whimpers against my lips.

“Ford,” I growl. “My name is Ford.”

“Fuck, Ford.”

She mewls as I look between us and watch her take every inch of my cock.

“Look at us,” I grunt. “How we fit together like you were made for me.”

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