Page 118 of Save Me

“Please, please,” she begs.

Her orgasm comes quickly.

I don’t give her time to recover before I pull her up to stand, spin her around, and bend her over my desk. My hands make quick work of unbuckling my pants and freeing my rock-hard cock.

Even if I wanted to take this slow, I can’t. Kennedy’s pants and moans demand me to take her, all of her, and remind her who the fuck she belongs to.

“Mine!” I say through gritted teeth at the same time I spear her with my cock.

I lift one of her legs and place it on the desk, opening her even farther for my invasion.

She immediately arches her back and curses.

“Say it, Kennedy. You’re fucking mine. Say it!” I order as I pound into her.

“Y-Yours,” she admits.

Her admission brings out the beast inside of me, and I push into her as deeply as I can get. I pull out almost to the tip and ram into her again. Over and over, I do this, owning her body while she owns mine.

Because she does own me. Mind, body, and soul.

There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to keep her safe. And I tell her as much in her ear as her pussy walls start to squeeze around my dick as she comes. I promise never to let her go, always to keep her safe and to protect her with everything I have.

Because she’s mine. Ever since that day in the alleyway.

It’s not until we both come down from the high of our orgasms that I realize I made all of those promises in Korean. My tendency to slip into my mother tongue when I’m balls deep inside of her means she didn’t understand a word.

It doesn’t matter.

It still rings true.

CHAPTER 33

Kennedy

“Mmm,” I moan in contentment as I lay back against Dae’s strong chest. We’re in his bathtub, soaking after that insane romp in his office.

We left before I got the opportunity to formally introduce Dae to my brother and cousin.

The tension in my muscles begins to dissolve when Dae wraps his arms around me. Steam from the water rises around us.

“You ripped my dress,” I tell him with my eyes closed.

“So?”

I elbow him, making him grunt, but he doesn’t loosen his hold on me.

“What color do you want your new dress to be?” he asks.

“Lavender,” I reply without thinking.

“Done.”

“Make it a summer dress,” I add.

“As long as you don’t wear panties with it.”

As soon as he says the word panties, my mind flashes back to him ripping the pair I wore earlier.

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