All observe and understand he is not to be tested.
It is wrong. It is dark.
But there’s no denying it’s what I need.
Rearranging Banner’s face obviously did not work. He still came for my female.
Perhaps he thinks I could not satisfy a perfect girl such as Whitney?
Perhaps he is skeptical she opens her legs for me willingly?
That my claim is not valid?
A snarl captures my upper lip and I find myself walking Whitney backward toward a waist-high round table, our mouths still locked in a kiss. Banner’s amusement is transitioning into irritation and I like that. Want to see more of it.
And God, more than anything, I want my cock inside of her. Now. The need is urgent.
Claim her. Claim her. CLAIM HER.
Whitney’s hand jacks me off through my pants, her moans being swallowed up by my mouth, but when we reach the table, I break the kiss and spin her around. Press her face down over the surface and unzip my pants, keeping a close eye on the man across the room, while also lusting after the supple mounds of her ass, the way she claws at the table excitedly, her sides heaving. “Yes, Maxim…” she whispers.
I use my booted foot to kick her feet wide and she whimpers.
Tilts her hips.
Enjoying this. Needing my ownership of her to be made obvious.
So I will give us what we both need.
I have no choice when I can see her wet pussy hole, so sweet and welcoming in the near darkness. My eager hand guides my cock to that source of pleasure, wrestling the first few inches into her tight channel and bucking the remaining distance with a snarl.
Heaven.
Sweet, perfect heaven.
A vibration goes through my balls and they pull taut, already looking to fill her with come. I groan brokenly, my hips flexing, wanting to pound her like a fuck toy. Not yet, though. Not yet. Dropping forward so my chest is pressed to her back, I reach around and grip her chin, tilting it up. “Such a sexy girl, da? Beautiful, tempting little girl.” I rock into her slowly, finding her more soaked by the second. “And perfect pussy to match.”
Banner curses, his breathing shallow.
“You will never, ever touch it. Or her.” I release her chin and bring my hand to her hair, slowly winding the long length of it around my fist. “She is only for my personal use.” I rear back and drive forward—hard—making her cry out. “And I am only for hers.”
There is something primal about this act. Taking her in front of a challenger.
Something that makes me realize deep down, I’ve always been an animal.
It took finding my mate to bring it out of me fully.
But it demands to be unleashed now.
It demands I fuck my female—and I do. I fist her hair and I pound her roughly against the table, her mewls and whimpers filling the room, the table legs scraping on the floor.
Her body is giving me such pleasure, I’m barely aware of the third person in the room. But I know he is there. I know he can hear the rough pack of inches into her tiny sex. The impact of my thrusts, hard against soft. He can hear her whining for me to give it harder. Faster. And there is no question who satisfies this girl. This pussy.
“You’re so big, Daddy,” she moans choppily. “I-I’m going to come.”
Having that title bestowed on me in this moment, hearing her praise my cock, makes me roar, pound the surface of the table with my fist. I grip the edges to keep the furniture steady and grind into her hole, circling my hips and making her feel me deep, deep.
Tension grips her and she holds her breath. Her flood is coming.
“See her legs starting to shake for me?” I grunt, my release beginning to threaten, seizing my muscles, the bottom of my spine. “Who does that for you, kotik?”
“Maxim,” she sobs. “Only Maxim.”
Gratification sweeps me, holds me in its grip.
“Mine.” I bare my teeth, my hand lifting and slapping down on her tight ass, making her moan, pump her hips. “Fuck. She is wrapped around me like vise. Squeezing. Soaking wet.” I thrust into her so hard, repeatedly, the table is rocking beneath us. “Remember every night of your life, wherever you are, that I am riding this kitty. And you are not.”
“Maxim!” Whitney’s pussy cinches tighter, so tight, I groan up at the ceiling and we both find our peak, my girl quivering and panting beneath me, her sex convulsing violently around my shaft, while I curse, shooting rope after rope into the slick, sacred crevice between her thighs, slowly depleting the misery in my balls, my stomach. Ahhh fuck. It is the ultimate claim, putting my seed in her while my challenger watches and as usual, I can’t seem to find the bottom of my well, more and more spend producing from my tip, my hips jerking up and back feverishly to make sure it’s all delivered. Every drop.
God she is sweet. Perfect. My perfect Whitney.
I drop back into the moment soon after, zipping back into my pants, swiping the sweat from my brow. I cover Whitney with the hem of her dress and draw her off the table. She turns and burrows into my arms, her face flushed, eyes dazed.
Without another word, I pick her up in my arms and kick through the emergency exit, leaving Banner slack jawed and staring into a void behind us. It is not until now, with the tide of hunger ebbing momentarily, that I remember Whitney texted with Banner and did not tell me. How sweetly she kissed my mouth while keeping secrets.
Yes, she is mine. That has been made clear.
But I find I am still restless, angry at being deceived.
I cannot have deception between us. I will not.
I want to know every thought in her head at all times.
How else will I give her everything she wants?
How else will I make her happy?
I call for my SUV to pick us up around back and boost Whitney into the back seat. She smiles when I join her, but it drops away slowly when she looks at my face.
Her tone is a little impatient when she speaks. “What is it now?”
“You lied to me, Whitney,” I growl. “By omission.”
She throws up her hands, exasperated. “Banner texted me. He said he could give me Scout. Still I told him to leave me alone.”
“And yet, you went to him tonight. After I ordered you to stay put!”
“Ordered me?” I find this tone of her voice dangerous. Much more dangerous than MMA fighter. “My father was there, Maxim. I didn’t know he was taking me to Banner.”
I make a frustrated sound. “How can I be sure of any of this, kotik? I turn my back for one second and you vanish!”
“You have to learn to trust me,” she whispers, a line forming between her brows. “Can you do that?” My hesitation is a split second too long and my Whitney turns away from me on the seat, crossing her arms. “Wow.”
I reach for her, but she widens the gap between us. “Please come to me. I do not like fighting with you.”
Whitney says nothing. This is silent treatment, then. I have heard of this.
It’s worse than I’ve heard it described.
It takes us five minutes to get where we are going, but I get none of the satisfaction I’ve been anticipating when I arranged the meeting this afternoon. Whitney sits forward when we drive into the empty field, spying the other SUV waiting nearby. The rear door opens and Whitney’s sister starts to step out, before a gloved hand closes around her arm, staying her.