Page 53 of Breeding Her: The Red Flag Edition
Each one knocked the breath from my lungs. My arms strained in the cuffs as he slammed into me—over and over—until my mouth hung open, drool sliding past my lips and soaking his pillow.
He fucked me like he was making up for every second he’d been forced to wait. And I took it. Every punishing inch. Every filthy word.
Because I was his.
And he knew exactly what I needed.
He didn’t stop.
Not when my legs trembled.
Not when the cuffs bit into my wrists.
Not even when I gasped his name like it was the only word I remembered.
“That’s it,” he rasped, his voice wrecked from restraint. “Take it. Take all of me.”
He gripped my hips and shifted the angle—deeper, sharper. I sobbed into the pillow, nearly folding as pleasure burst through me in waves.
And still he moved, slick and relentless.
No one had ever taken me like this.
No one had ever owned me like this.
He leaned down, sweat-slicked skin branding my spine, mouth hot on my ear.
“You want a break?” he murmured.
I shook my head so fast I almost choked on a moan.
He laughed softly, cruelly.
“That’s my greedy girl.”
He shifted behind me, withdrawing just enough to make me whimper.
Then his hands curled beneath my hips and he dragged me up—slow and firm—until I was on my knees again, face still buried in the pillow, wrists still cuffed behind my back.
I barely had time to brace myself before he drove back in.
Deep.
Hard.
Like he was carving himself into me.
The sound that tore from my throat was nothing short of guttural.
“That’s it,” he groaned, one hand sliding up my spine. “Look at you. Fucking perfect like this.”
My thighs trembled, slick and shaking as he pounded into me from behind.
I couldn’t move.
Couldn’t speak.
All I could do was feel—him, us, everything.
