“Maybe we have sex too much,” I say, my voice small.
“I think we’re perfectly normal.”
Another laugh escapes me and he presses his hand over my lips again.
“Normal is probably the wrong word.” He licks my neck, running his tongue down the length of it. “We fit, Savage. You and me.”
“We’re a mess,” I murmur beneath his hand. He tightens his fingers around my mouth, making it hard to breathe. “Whit.”
He slides his hand from my face downward, until his fingers are clamped around my throat, his thumb pressing. Reminding me of his strength. The hold he has over me, physically and emotionally. “Haven’t done this in a while.”
My heart races in fear. Anticipation. I shift my body, the water sloshing over the sides of the tub. “Don’t hurt me.”
“I would never. I only hurt you when I know you like it.” The tightening is subtle. He doesn’t move fast. His fingers exert the slightest amount of pressure, but I know he could do more. “And I think you like this.”
I keep my eyes closed, concentrating on my thumping heart, the sensation of his body behind mine, surrounding me. His other hand drops from my breast to move between my legs, cupping me there for only a moment before he slides his fingers into my folds, his touch rough. Thrilling.
A claiming.
“Did you see how everyone was looking at you tonight? When you were with Monty?”
I nod, my eyes popping open. I stare at the fire, the flames dancing high, the wood cracking and splitting from the intense heat.
“You looked like a fucking queen,” he murmurs, his voice full of pride. “That’s why I claimed you, Savage. I didn’t want anyone else taking what was mine. My queen. You belong to me.”
His possessive words send a ribbon of heat twisting through my body. “What about Monty?”
His deep chuckle sounds in my ear. “He’s not a threat. I can trust him with you.”
“Because he likes boys?”
“Even if he was straight, he wouldn’t touch you. Not once he found out who you belong to.”
“I’m not an object, Whit. I’m a person. You can’t just claim me,” I say, deciding to stand up for myself a little bit. Even though his possession is a heady thing.
No one’s ever publicly claimed me before—at least, no boy ever has. I’m usually a dirty little secret. Even Whit hid me away, though I wanted to keep what we were doing under wraps as well.
Not anymore. Everybody who was anybody in that room tonight knows I’m with Whit Lancaster. And I can’t seem to muster up the energy to care.
“Mmm, that’s where you’re wrong.” He nuzzles my face with his nose. Presses his thumb firmly against my clit as he tightens his fingers around my throat even more. “You’ve already been claimed. I’ve possessed you in just about every way I can.”
His hand works my pussy, his arm stirring the water, making it slosh in the tub, spilling over the top and all over the floor. I spread my legs wider, as wide as they can go in the narrow tub, wanting more. Wanting his fingers inside me.
Wanting him inside me.
“I’ve owned you since you were fourteen,” he whispers, his voice dark. Stirring up all the dark things buried deep inside of me. “You’ve been in my head ever since that night, you know. Haunting me. No one else could ever measure up.”
My heart goes still at his confession, all the breath in my lungs drying up. “What?” I gasp out.
He doesn’t even hesitate in his confession. “It’s true. I saw it in you that night. Your soul matched mine,” he admits as he lets go of my throat. “Move forward.”
I lean away from him, glancing over my shoulder to send him a questioning look. “I don’t understand.”
“Grasp the edge of the tub.” He gives me a gentle shove and I fall forward, my hands clasping the curved marble edge. In one swift move he rises up and slides his cock inside me, our positioning aiding in him filling me extra deep. A groan leaves me the moment he’s fully-seated inside my body and we remain like that for a moment, the water churning, our bodies connected yet completely still. Him rising above me, commanding me, taking complete control over me.
My breaths leave me in short gasps, excitement fizzing in my veins as I wait for him to say something, to do anything.
“Sometimes I would think you weren’t real. You couldn’t be that perfect,” he says as he slowly starts to move, pulling himself almost completely out of my body before pushing back in. “But you are real. It’s as if you were made for me.”
I feel the same way about him. As if he were made for only me.
There’s a loud popping noise and then the gurgle of the drain. He somehow released the plug, and the water is slowly lowering in the tub. He rests his hands on my hips, positioning me carefully before he removes one hand to drift his fingers down the crack of my ass. Up and down, his pace slow and steady, lingering over the place he wants me the most.
“With you positioned like this, you’re so open to me.” He slowly slips his finger into my ass with ease, and I suck in a breath, my muscles tensing. “Relax.”
I try to, but this is the farthest he’s gotten since he started trying, and I feel so full. His cock inside of me, plus his finger. It’s too much.
It’s not enough.
“Your skin is glistening right now,” he says, almost to himself. “All wet and smooth. God, look at you.”
Turning my head, I study him from over my shoulder, and his molten gaze meets mine. His eyes are so dark. Like a storm. His mouth is red, his cheeks ruddy and he smiles, thrusting his hips upward at the same time.
Hitting a spot deep inside of me that has me seeing stars.
I face forward once again, gripping the edge of the tub with all my might, the water slowly lowering. Exposing me completely. I must look a sight, but I don’t care. All I can focus on is the friction of Whit’s cock as he slides in and out of my pussy. His finger soon following the same rhythm in my ass. I move against him, my knees slipping against the slick marble, my fingers cramping from how tight I cling to the tub’s edge.
Whit fucks me hard, his grunts filling the room, our wet skin slapping together in rhythm. With my knees spread, his finger sinks deeper and I bite out a moan as I arch against him.
A string of curses leaves Whit’s mouth, every single one of them filthy. My entire body is on fire, muscles taut with expectation, waiting for that delicious climax that hovers just on the edge.
And then he’s gone. He pulls out of my body, both his cock and his finger, and I watch in shock as he hurriedly climbs out of the tub and goes to stand in front of me. Somewhere along the way, he found a towel and he holds it out toward me. “Come on. Get out.”
I step out of the tub, nearly tripping since my body is so weak. Thank God he’s there to take my hand and guide me out.
My pussy aches. My asshole burns. And still, I go to him, letting him wrap me up in the giant, thick towel. He cuddles me close, his hands roaming all over my body, rubbing the towel against my skin and drying me. He presses his mouth to my forehead, the gesture so sweet, so unexpected, I almost want to cry.
He’s a contradiction tonight. One I don’t understand.
“Let’s go to the bedroom,” he suggests once he’s removed the towel from my body. I can only nod my reply, sleepiness threatening to take over. His taking care of me felt so good. It was just what I needed.