Page 34 of Twisted Tate

But I’m still not fucking done.

I fuck her through it, not slowing down. She’s sobbing, completely overwhelmed, but she’s not telling me to stop. She’s pulling me closer, clutching at me like I’m the only solid thing in her world.

“One more.” I can feel my own release building. “Give me one more.”

“I can’t—”

“You can.” I grip her throat with just enough pressure to make her gasp. “One more. Come with me.”

She makes a sound that’s half sob, half moan, but then her grip is tight on my shoulders again. Our eyes meet again and hers are not dazed anymore. They’re fierce and possessive.

“You’re mine, too.” Her voice is raw but strong. “You keep saying I’m yours. That this pussy belongs to you. But it goes both ways.” She clenches around my cock, deliberately. “This cock is mine. You are mine. I’m not just some broken thing you’re claiming. I fucking claim you, too.”

I stare at her.

I’ve fucked countless women. I’ve dominated them, possessed them, made them beg. But not one of them has ever thought they could claim me.

I’ve never belonged to anyone. I never fucking wanted to.

Until now.

“Say that again.”

“You’re mine.” She grabs my face with both hands. “I know this isn’t what you planned. But I don’t care. You’re mine, Tate Sinclair. And I’m not giving you back.”

“Yes, baby girl.” The word scrapes out of my throat. “I’m fucking yours.”

“Then come inside me.” She tightens her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper. “I want to know I’m yours and you’re mine.”

All control disappears. I fuck her like a man possessed, like I’m trying to get inside her and never come out. She matches me thrust for thrust, her back braced against the shower. She sinks her teeth into my shoulder, breaking the skin.

We’re not just fucking. We’re claiming and marking each other.

“Come with me.” I’m right on the edge. “I want to feel you come while I fill this pussy.”

“Tate—”

“Now.” I bury myself deep and grind against her clit. “Come on my cock right now.”

She falls apart with my name on her lips, and I follow. I bury myself as deep as I can and empty inside her, groaning against her neck as her pussy pulses around me.

For a long time, neither of us moves.

I keep her pinned against the wall, still inside her, both of us gasping. The hot water continues to spray us, and I can feel my cum starting to leak out around my cock. Something primal in me likes it. Likes marking her from the inside.

“Jesus Christ.” Her voice is destroyed.

“Yeah.” I press my forehead against hers. “That fucking covers it.”

She laughs—actually laughs—and it does something to me. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her laugh like that. Like she’s happy.

“We should probably actually shower now.” She runs her fingers through my wet hair. “Since we’re in here and all.”

“Probably.”

But I don’t move. I’m not ready to pull out of her yet. She seems to understand, because she doesn’t push. She just stays wrapped around me, her fingers tracing the bite mark she left on my shoulder.

“Does it hurt?” She touches the wound.