Page 69 of Rampage

Something shifts in his demeanor—his eyes flash, his posture changing subtly. His hands move to grip my hips, stilling my movements as he pulls back just enough to look at my face.

"Slow down, sweetheart," he says, his voice deeper than usual, commanding in a way that sends shivers through me. "I've got you."

"I don't want slow," I protest, trying to recapture his mouth. "I want?—"

"I know exactly what you want," he interrupts, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of my neck. "And I'm going to give it to you. But not like this. Not rushed."

Before I can argue, he stands in one fluid motion, lifting me with him as if I weigh nothing. My legs wrap around his waist instinctively as he carries me toward the bedroom, his steps measured and purposeful.

"You need to feel in control right now," he says, laying me gently on the bed. "I understand that. But I need you to trust me to take care of you properly."

He looms over me, powerful and protective, his eyes never leaving mine as he slowly unbuttons his shirt. "Can you do that? Can you trust me to give you what you need?"

The question settles something wild inside me. I nod, suddenly breathless as he shrugs the shirt from his shoulders, revealing the muscled expanse of his chest.

"Words, Lily," he prompts, his voice firm. "I need to hear you say it."

"Yes," I whisper, then stronger, "yes, I trust you."

His expression softens with approval. "Good girl."

He takes his time undressing me, each movement deliberate and thorough. When I try to rush, reaching for his belt, his hand wraps firmly around my wrist, stopping me.

"No," he says, voice dropping an octave lower. "Tonight I'm in control."

The commanding tone sends liquid heat pooling between my thighs. Reid's eyes darken as he takes in my reaction, a predatory smile curving his lips.

"You're mine," he growls, pinning both my wrists above my head with one large hand. "Every inch of you belongs to me now."

His free hand slides possessively down my body, claiming territory as he goes. "This is mine," he murmurs, cupping my breast, thumb circling the sensitive peak until I arch into his touch. "And this," his hand travels lower, spanning my waist. "And especially this," he finishes, pressing his palm firmly between my legs.

I gasp at the intensity of his touch, at the raw possession in his voice. This isn't the careful Reid from before. This is someone intense that makes my heart race and my body respond with desperate need.

"Say it," he demands, his fingers applying delicious pressure. "Tell me who you belong to."

"You," I whisper, barely recognizing my own voice. "I'm yours, Reid."

Something dangerous flashes in his eyes. In one swift movement, he flips me onto my stomach, pulling my hips up while keeping my chest pressed to the mattress. The position leaves me completely exposed to him, vulnerable in a way that should terrify me but instead makes me tremble with anticipation.

"I'm going to take what's mine," he says, the sound of his zipper loud in the quiet room. "Hard and fast. The way you need it right now."

His hand tangles in my hair, not painfully but firmly enough to make his dominance clear. I feel him positioning himself at my entrance, the blunt pressure making me moan into the sheets.

"Look at you," he growls, sliding into me with one powerful thrust that steals my breath. "So wet for me. So perfect."

He sets a punishing pace, each thrust driving me further into pleasure. His grip on my hip will leave marks, evidence of his possession that I'll wear proudly tomorrow.

"Mine," he repeats with each snap of his hips. "No one else gets to see you like this. No one else gets to touch you. Just me."

The possessiveness in his voice, the physical claiming of my body, it's exactly what I need after years of being treated as an object to be used. Reid's possession is different. It's protection, devotion, a fierce declaration that I matter enough to be claimed.

"Yes," I gasp, pushing back against him, matching his rhythm. "Only yours."

He reaches around, his fingers finding the bundle of nerves at my center, circling. "Come for me," he demands. "Let me feel you come around my cock."

My body convulses around him as waves of pleasure crash through me, his name a broken cry on my lips. But Reid doesn't slow, doesn't stop. Instead, he flips me onto my back in one fluid motion, hooks my legs over his shoulders, and drives into me with renewed intensity.

"Again," he growls, his eyes wild and possessive as he stares down at me. "I want to see your face this time."

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