Page 43 of Sacrifice

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Just exhaustion.

I don't give her time to recover, just line myself up and thrust home.

"Fuck!" She grabs my shoulders, adjusting to the stretch. "You're too?—"

"You can take it." I pull out slow, thrusting back hard. "You were made for this. Made for me."

"Not yours," she protests, but she's meeting me thrust for thrust.

"No? Then why do you fit me so perfectly?" I angle deeper, making her gasp. "Why do you get this wet just from arguing with me?"

"Biology," she pants. "Doesn't mean anything."

"Liar." I increase my pace, driving her toward another orgasm. "You dream about this. About me. Every night, you said."

"Shut up."

"You think about me when you touch yourself." I can feel her getting close, walls fluttering around me. "Probably did last night after you got home."

"Emil—"

"Say it," I demand. "Say you want me."

"No."

I slow down, nearly stopping.

She whines in protest.

"Say it, or I stop."

"You wouldn't."

I pull almost all the way out, proving I would.

She tries to follow, to take me back in, but I hold her still.

"Fine!" She breaks. "I want you. Happy?"

"Getting there." I slam back in, making her scream. "Say you're mine."

"Emil—"

"Say it." I'm close myself now, but I need to hear it. "Tell me the truth for once."

"I'm—fuck, I'm yours," she gasps. "Always been yours. I hate it, but I'm yours."

"Good girl."

I let go then, fucking her hard and fast, the counter creaking under us.

She comes again, clenching so tight I see stars.

I follow her over, burying myself deep as I fill her.

We stay like that for a moment, both breathing hard, reality creeping back in.

"This was a mistake," she says quietly.

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