Page 60 of Desperate Crimes
I mean, I want to talk to him.
I want to know what this all means.
But right now?
I can’t even string two words together.
“You were never meant for anyone but me. Mine, Leanna, you hear me?” he growls, flexing his hips.
I feel that.
Not just his amazing cock, but his words.
Deep in my core. In my chest. In my soul.
I’m so wet the sound of him fucking me echoes between us, filthy and raw.
It’s loud. Lewd.
And I think I love it.
My body is already rising again—waves building, rolling in faster this time, hotter.
I can’t think. I can’t breathe.
He reaches between us, his thumb finding my clit again, circling it with practiced precision. And I cry out.
It’s too much. Not enough. Perfect.
“Say it again,” he growls. “Tell me who you belong to.”
“You,” I pant. “I’m yours, Nico. I always have been.”
His thrusts get rougher. Desperate.
“Fuck, Leanna,” he groans. “You feel so good—so fucking tight. Gonna fill you up. Gonna make sure you never forget who you belong to.”
I moan as the fire builds, unstoppable.
Blinding.
My body clenches around him again, another orgasm slamming into me like a wave crashing against a cliff.
I scream. Shake. Shatter beneath him.
And that’s when he snaps.
His hips slam into mine, hard and fast, losing all rhythm. Foregoing all restraint.
He growls against my neck, one arm locking around my waist as he drives into me with brutal need.
His breath is hot and ragged in my ear.
“Gonna come inside you,” he rasps. “Gonna mark you. Fill you. Make sure you know who this sweet cunt belongs to. No one else ever fucking touches you. Never. Say it.”
“No one but you, Nico,” I pant.
And then he does it.
