Five more stinging slaps, and then I paused, tracing the canvas of handprints I’d laid on top of her mostly healed wounds. Soon, those old ones would be gone, every trace of them, and then there would be only my marks on her soft flesh. Only mine. She was mine. Mine!
“Tell me how sorry you are, Pet.”
“I’m very sorry, Master. I was wrong to provoke you,” she panted between heavy breaths.
Five more slaps and my cock jerked with every one of them. “Tell me again.”
“I’m sorry, Master.”
Five more, spread out so that her whole ass was now a sexy shade of pink. “Why?”
“Because I should have obeyed.”
Five more. “Why?”
“Because I’m yours.”
Fuck, yes—that’s what I wanted to hear. “Say it again.”
“I’m yours.”
I shoved a finger into her pussy. Her soaking wet pussy. Fuck, she was so wet she was dripping down her thighs. I lifted her up as I stood and dropped her on her back on the bed, all in the same breath. I unzipped my pants and shoved them to my knees, not even wasting the time to take them off.
I leaned in and my cock pressed against her wet slit. So fucking wet. I went as slow as I could, fighting the urge to ram balls-deep into her. One excruciatingly exquisite inch and then another. Only seconds had passed, but it felt like hours before her pussy sheathed my whole cock like a tight glove.
Some sliver of conscience tried to poke through, warning me I might be pushing her too hard, but she wrapped her legs around me and I was all in.
“Yours! God, yes, all yours,” she moaned.
I’d had no idea how much I needed to hear it, but each time the words fell from her lips, they mended the shattered edges of something inside me I hadn’t known had been broken. “Mine,” I proclaimed as I thrust in too hard, too deep, but she only tilted her head back and moaned in ecstasy.
Too soon, I was close. I wasn’t sure I could slow it down, but she got there fast, too. Her moans turned to cries, and her fingers dug into my shoulders as she hovered on the brink.
“Yours, always yours,” she screamed, and thank fuck she was already tumbling over the edge because I was done for.
I rammed in deep as the tight walls of her pussy spasmed around my cock, and then I stilled, deep inside her as I filled her full of my come. She milked every drop before I withdrew and laid down beside her.
It was several minutes before I could do anything but lie there, but eventually, I drew her up to the pillows with me.
I probably should have fed her, but she seemed just as content as I was to lie there. What had just happened ran through my mind, and while I should have felt guilty as fuck—not only for what I’d done but for how much I’d enjoyed it—I didn’t. Good or bad—probably bad—I felt like me.
Her body was slack against mine, and her breathing quickly slowed to the steady rise and fall of sleep. I debated joining her, but as sated as my body was, my mind was still sparked up, revelling in its fucked up victory. Thanks to the high, there was no way I was falling asleep anytime soon—maybe ever.
4
Derek
The quiet buzz of the security system sounded sometime later—it was the proximity alarm. The high I’d been on crashed to the floor, and every muscle in my body was taut. The noise of the alarm didn’t wake Scar so much as my quick launch out of the bed.
“Stay here,” I told her, then strode to the closet across the room. It wasn’t a typical closet. Sure, there was Armani and Dior Homme hanging neatly in there. They just happened to be hanging neatly beside Berettas, Glocks, Sigs and high carbon, stainless steel tactical knives. And there was also a wall full of monitors that would tell me precisely who’d been stupid enough to get close to my property.
Thirty seconds later, I watched as a gunmetal grey Mercedes pulled up to the outer gate. The side windows were tinted, but the position of the cameras allowed me to zoom in on the front windshield. The man in the driver’s seat was a nobody—I’d never seen him before, nor was he likely anything more than a well-paid driver. The man who sat next to him was likely no more important. I zoomed in further until the camera lens let me see past them to the man reclining comfortably in the back seat.
Fuck. That man was not a nobody. That was Mateo Lopez. I’d seen him meet with Marcos on more than one occasion. An associate—Marcos had told me, though he would never tell me anything further. But if he was nothing more than an associate, there would be no reason for him to be here. On my property. He would have had no idea how to find me, nor any reason to try.