Page 51 of The Gamma's Second Chance

“Are you… labeling me?” I ask, my jaw dropping open at the startling, naughty display of ownership from him. He’s given me his shirts to wear, but this is a different level of claiming, and I crave it.

I want to be owned. I want him to own me. All of me. My body and my soul.

“This pussy is mine, Cassandra,” he says with a rough growl, shoving the cap on the pen and keeping me spread for him. “I’m the only one who gets to play with it, touch it, or even see it. All of this”—he nods at my naked body, his eyes drinking in myflushed, heated skin and my wet, waiting pussy—“all of you is for my eyes only. No one else gets to see you like this. No one.”

He kisses the spot with his name, nipping it with his teeth, before pressing a kiss to my clit. Then he grabs my hips and rolls me to my stomach, planting my feet on the floor and pinning my torso to the bed with his hand on my lower back. He massages my ass roughly, his sweats falling to the floor as he lines his dick up with my entrance.

“You’re mine,” he says, and I moan and arch my neck as the head of his cock slips inside me. The heel of his hand digs into my lower back, and he runs it up my spine to the base of my neck, holding me in place on the bed. “All fucking mine.”

His hips punch forward, and my body jerks under him, but my movement is minimal as I’m pinned in place by his ironclad grip. He slams into me as hard as he can—just the way I like it, his dick hitting all the deliciously sensitive spots in my pussy—but only for three thrusts, and then he slows, dragging his dick out to the tip and sliding it back in, switching to unhurried, torturously gentle movements.

I try to push back against him, but his grip on me is infallible. I’m at his mercy, and my pussy clenches at that thought, a shudder running over my body. He can do whatever he wants to me, and I am powerless to stop it.

And I love it.

He continues his slow movements, dragging out every roll of his hips, and when I think I can’t take the torment of the slow, languid pace anymore, he rams into me again. His grip turns harsh and dominant, and he sets a bruising pace with his hips. But only for a handful of thrusts, and then he’s back to slow, romantic lovemaking.

I groan and slap my palm against the mattress, my neck flexing and my eyes squeezing shut in frustration. “Nolan!”

His sexy as fuck chuckle echoes around the room and sends a shiver down my spine. His touch softens, and he skims my ass with his palm, spreading my cheeks as he rocks into me in long, smooth strokes. “Fuck, I love how your pussy takes my cock. I love how you look with me inside you.”

He pounds into me again, then slows his hips, alternating between hard and soft, rough and gentle, fucking and lovemaking. Over and over, until I’m panting, twisting, and whining beneath him, my hands clawing at the bedding and my body fighting to maintain the brutal pace he keeps ripping away from me.

“You’re gorgeous like this.” He leans his massive, solid torso over my shaky body and wraps my hair around his hand, his other arm circling my waist. “Completely at my mercy, writhing and breathless, body spent and quivering…” He yanks my hair so my chin angles to the side, and he kisses my neck. I melt and submit, no longer fighting against his hold. He groans against my neck, and I quiver, his fingertips grazing my clit. “That’s it,” he says with encouragement. “Let go, Cassandra.”

I cry out and curve against him more, his mouth on my neck and his fingers on my clit as he slams into me again, finally letting me fall over the edge into utter bliss. “Fuck yes,” he groans, tugging my hair harder and holding me to him tighter. “Goddess, you’re exquisite when you fall apart for me.”

And then he lets go, too, loosening the intentional restraint he’s held onto this entire time. He pounds into me relentlessly, his pace almost unfathomable, guiding my body deeper into ecstasy with every wave of my orgasm. And I take it all, relinquishing full control of my body and our joint pleasure to him, surrendering to his dominance. Warmth floods me, bringing light and weightlessness to my heart, a sensation I’ve only found while in the safe circle of his possessive embrace.

Nolan finishes with a deep growl, his cock pulsing inside me and his body tensing above me. He buries his face in my neck and clings to me, rocking his hips with each wave of his release. “Cassandra…” He sighs and shakes his head, releasing my hair and caressing my back. “Cassandra…”

My name falls from his lips like the lyrics of a song, soft and melodic, and it’s never sounded more beautiful to my ears. I’ve never loved my name more than I do hearing him sigh it, hearing him breathe it like my name is life itself.

When we’ve wrung the last drops of pleasure from our spent bodies, he rolls to the side and gathers me in his arms. Cradling me against his body, he soothes my wonderfully sore muscles with his powerful but gentle hands. They caress and comfort, traveling over my skin with soft strokes, taking time to touch every inch of me and coax me into a relaxed, sated state. His fingers play in my hair, combing through the strands the way I adore, and I hum in contentment, snuggling in closer to his warm body.

“Cassandra…” He says once more, his voice rough as his lips brush my forehead. He swallows and hugs me to him, almost crushing me with his arms and his body, but I’ve never felt more secure. His body is my cocoon, my safe harbor.

I nudge him with my nose and kiss his lips, then lean away to meet his eyes. They’re soft and caring, and I fall into their gentleness, such a magnificent contrast to the lusty starvation displayed there earlier. His touch trails down my body and towards my inner thigh, caressing the place where he wrote his name, and one final wave of satisfaction pulses through my body as he traces over his claim. It may not be a mating mark, but it’s a claim all the same, a marking of territory, of what he views as his and only his.

I lick my lips and push up onto my forearms, scanning the mattress for the marker. My eyes light up when I findit, and I pluck it from the wrinkled bedding, uncapping it and maneuvering myself so I can access Nolan’s left forearm underneath my body. Pinning his wrist to the bed, I write my name on his arm in swirling calligraphy, adding a petite daisy at the end, right over the pulse point on his wrist, and I give the flower a tiny kiss.

“Now we’re both labeled.” I snap the cap back on and beam at him in triumph, but he stares at my signature on his skin, his teeth clenching as he runs his other hand over his jaw. I swallow and my smile fades. “Do you like it?”

He cups my cheeks with both his hands and dives forward to kiss me. “I love it,” he says, reassuring me, his eyes sparkling with humor as he gives me one of his rare laughs. “It’s perfect.”

Chapter 19

NOLAN

“Wow.” Haven spins ina circle as her gaze lifts to the extra large sparkling chandelier hanging in the open-air lobby of the hotel, and Wesley lets out a long, low whistle as his eyes linger on all the spotless glass surfaces and the pristine white walls. “This hotel is…”

“Ridiculous?” Wesley says, finishing her sentence for her.

“Over the top?” I suggest.

“Ostentatious?” Cassandra says, adding in her two cents.

Haven chuckles. “I was going to say pretentious, but those all work, too.” She shakes her head, her red curls swaying side to side and a frown wrinkling her forehead. “Why are we hosting the ball in such an outlandish, gaudy—?”

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