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“Yes,” she pants.
“You like being taken care of, don’t you? You like knowing that everything I do is for and about you. You’re the most important thing in the world to me, Etta.”
“Oz,” she whispers.
“Look at you,” I growl. “You’re so needy, aren’t you? I was trying to give your greedy little pussy a rest, but you don’t want that, do you?”
“Oz,” she says my name again, but this time, it’s more of a whine.
“Do you want me to take you home, wife?” I ask.
“Please,” she begs.
The rest of the drive up the mountain is a blur until I slam my foot on the brake and my truck lurches to a stop outside my house. Ripping my seat belt free, I circle the truck and throw open her door, reaching for her at the same time that her outstretched arms move toward me. Scooping her from her seat, I absentmindedly close the door of my truck, storming toward my front door with single-minded intent.
The keys almost fall out of my hand in my haste to unlock the door, but I finally turn the handle, and the door folds open. Kicking it shut behind us, I carry Etta upstairs, not glancing to check the door is actually closed before I throw her down onto our bed and rip the clothes from her tiny body.
Our hands are frantic as she tries to divest me of my jeans and shirt, resulting in a tangle of fabric that ultimately gets dumped on the floor. Neither of us is interested in foreplay or teasing; the argument we had in the car was more than enough build up to have us both desperate and ready.
Spreading her thighs, I push her up the bed, crawling between her legs as she reaches for my cock, bringing it to her cunt as I move. When the head finds her hot, wet slit, I palm the back of her neck and claim her lips as I slam my length inside of her, swallowing her gasp.
Our kiss is sloppy and uncoordinated, our desperation marring our ability to be gentle. But sometimes, gentle isn’t what either of us wants or needs. Our coming together is a carnal joining, not a sweet, tender moment. Neither of us cares about pretty words or tentative touches. I need to fuck her, and she needs to be fucked.
Neither of us speaks, both of us incapable of words. I feel like a primal being, a male claiming his mate, ensuring that she knows she’s owned. And I do own her. Or at least I own her body and mind. She belongs to me. She admitted it when she said I do, when she let me slip my rings onto her fingers. Her heart is mine too, although I’m not sure she’s accepted that yet, but she will.
A low, keening sound bursts from her throat. Her cunt tightens and her muscles tense as she comes, her hold on me tightening as her nails sink into my shoulders, and she clings to me while I rut into her. I growl as my dick hardens and cum surges from the tip, flooding her cunt and filling her up with me once again.
“Oh my god,” she rasps, her voice weak.
“You, okay?” I ask, rubbing my thumb over her cheek.
“I don’t know,” she says, then giggles, her eyes glassy. “That was…”
“I love you, Etta. So damn much. I didn’t know I was capable of loving someone, but I love you. I felt it the moment I saw you. Knew it the first time I pushed inside of you and showed everyone else the minute I gave you my name and took you as mine.”
Tears fall from her eyes, but she doesn’t look sad.
“I know you’re not there yet. But I’ll wait. I’ll show you so much love, it’ll be impossible for you to fight how you feel. When you tell me you love me, I want it to be because you know so surely nothing could ever make you doubt it. Until then, I’ll keep telling you and showing you over and over and over.”
Reluctantly slipping my cock from inside of her, I replace it with my fingers and rub her clit until she comes with a cry and her cunt clenches, pulling all of me back inside of her. Only then do I roll to my side and pull her head onto my chest.
“I can’t not contribute something to the bills,” she whispers, and I can hear the hesitation in her voice.
“Your money is your money. Spend it how you like, but I take care of you,” I tell her, making each word forceful, but trying to keep my tone light, not wanting to scare her.
“I need to pay for something, or else I’m just mooching.”
“Etta.”
“Oz.”
“Behave,” I growl, grabbing a handful of her ass and squeezing until she starts to whimper.
When I release her, she sighs, then nuzzles her cheek against my chest. “You’re a caveman.”
“And you’re my woman. I take care of you, and I don’t want your money, so don’t fucking ask again.”
“I’ll figure out a way to pay my share,” she threatens.
