Page 24 of Dark Possession
She feels so fucking good wrapped around my cock—tight, wet, made for me. I drag my nails down her thighs, leaving red lines in their wake before squeezing the soft flesh hard enough to bruise. She hisses at the sting, but instead of pulling away, she pushes back against me, her ass grinding into my hips, her pussy clenching around me like she never wants me to stop.
She doesn’t.
She wants it harder. Faster.
I snap my hips forward, slamming into her, fucking her with brutal, relentless force. The table creaks beneath us, the room filled with the obscene slap of skin against skin, the sharp sound of my palm smacking her ass again and again, each hit making her body jerk, making her walls tighten around my cock.
She’s perfect. Fucking perfect.
My body burns, muscles tight, sweat slicking my chest as I drive into her, taking her, owning her. Her moans turn to whimpers, her legs trembling, but she’s still taking me. Still begging for more even as she begs me to stop.
“Too much,” she chokes out, her fingers curling into the wood, nails dragging over the surface. “I can’t—”
But she can.
She will.
I fist my hand in her hair, yanking her head back as I pound into her, my breath rough against her ear. “You can. And you fucking will.”
She shatters around me, her pussy clenching, pulsing, soaking my cock as she comes, her body shaking, her screams muffled as I push her face down against the table. I don’t stop. I don’t fucking stop.
I own her pleasure, and I own her pain.
My hand cracks against her ass, turning her perfect skin a deep, raw red, heat radiating beneath my palm as I fuck her through it, through the aftershocks, through her desperate moans, until her legs give out and she’s trembling beneath me. Ruined. Wrecked.
By the time I finally come, I bury myself deep inside her, claiming her, marking her, fucking branding her from the inside out.
She collapses, her hair a tangled mess, lips swollen from biting down on screams, her entire body branded by my hands, my teeth, my fucking need.
I smirk, rubbing a hand over her raw, burning ass. Admiring my work.
Mine.
I press a kiss to the nape of her neck before whispering, low and dark, “That was delicious.”
I spin her gently, my hands still firm on her waist, guiding her until she’s facing me. She’s dazed, wrecked, utterly undone, her body trembling in the aftermath of what I just gave her. What I just took.
Her gray eyes flick up to mine, hazy with pleasure, her lips parted, swollen, begging for more even though she’s barely standing.
I cup her jaw, my thumb brushing along her cheek as I lean in, pressing the softest kiss to her lips—such a stark contrast to the way I just fucked her. She shivers, her breath hitching when I run my tongue along the seam of her lips, teasing, tasting the moans that still linger there.
She looks glorious.
Her skin is flushed, painted with the evidence of my teeth, my hands, my claim. Every mark I left on her body makes my cock twitch with satisfaction.
She’s mine.
I drag my gaze over her, drinking in the way she sways slightly, the way her body still trembles, and then I bend down, picking up her gown from the floor. But before I rise, I press a slow, open-mouthed kiss to her bare, soaked pussy.
She sucks in a sharp breath, her fingers twisting into my hair on instinct, but I’m already moving, already standing, handing the gown to her like I didn’t just make her entire body clench with that single touch.
She swallows, her fingers curling around the fabric as she steps back, careful to keep away from the broken glass while putting space between us like she needs to breathe, to think.
“I’m going for a shower.”
Her voice is quiet, controlled, but the slight shake betrays her.
She slips the gown over her raw, marked body, covering the bruises, the bites, the bright red fingerprints I left on her ass. Hiding my work.
