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"No." I wrapped my legs around his hips. "Need you to move."

His first stroke was slow.

Nearly out.

Back in.

My body gripped him, still sensitive from his mouth. Every thrust dragged over nerves already awake. His pelvis pressed my clitoris at the bottom of each stroke.

I held his face.

"Harder."

He obeyed.

The bed moved beneath us.

Boone's control never disappeared. It changed shape. His hand slid beneath my ass and lifted me into the angle he wanted, driving deeper. His other hand closed around both my wrists and brought them above my head.

"Okay?"

"Yes."

"Like that?"

"Yes, Daddy."

He pinned my wrists into the pillow.

Not trapped.

Held.

The difference lived in every part of me.

His cock filled me again and again, thick enough that I felt each stroke in my belly. My breasts shook. The clover charm slid warm along my throat. Boone lowered his mouth to one nipple and sucked.

I cried out.

"Pretty little thing," he said. "Look how well you take me."

I clenched around him.

His rhythm broke once.

"Again," I begged.

He thrust harder.

"You're mine."

"Yes."

"Because?"

"I choose it."

His forehead pressed to mine.