Page 86 of Cold Carnage

“Tell me you missed me,” he demanded. “Tell me every time you were with my brother, you wanted it to be me.”

My eyes snapped open. His gaze was fierce, burning with something dark and possessive. Yet he didn’t stop; his finger moved inside me, sending waves of pleasure crashing through my body.

“Ryker—” I started, but the words tangled in my throat. The intensity of his stare made it impossible to look away.

He continued, unrelenting. “Say it.”

I swallowed hard, caught between the pleasure he was giving me and the pain of his demand. My mind raced back to those moments with Brendan—moments that now felt tainted and wrong under Ryker’s scrutiny.

His glare didn’t soften. If anything, it grew more intense, a storm gathering behind his eyes. He needed this confession like air.

“Ryker,” I tried again, my voice trembling. “Please…”

But he didn’t relent. His finger curled inside me just right, making my vision blur at the edges. The room spun around us.

“Say it,” he growled. “Tell me you wanted it to be me.”

The words lodged in my throat felt like shards of glass. This was more than just physical; it was raw and exposing, cutting deeper than any touch ever could.

I forced myself to meet his gaze fully, knowing there was no escaping this moment. My body trembled as I finally whispered the truth that had been buried deep within me.

“I missed you,” I said softly. “Every time... I wanted it to be you.”

His expression shifted ever so slightly—something between triumph and relief flickered across his features—but he didn’t stop moving his finger inside me, didn’t stop driving me insane with each deliberate stroke.

The tension in the room hung heavy between us as those words lingered in the air, irrevocably changing everything we thought we knew about each other.

His eyes bore into mine, filled with an intensity that made my heart pound. He slid another finger inside me, and my back arched off the bed, a gasp escaping my lips.

"Tell me no one can touch you like me," he demanded, his voice low and rough.

I couldn't form words; the sensation was too overwhelming. His fingers moved inside me with precision, hitting every spotthat sent pleasure coursing through my body. I was on the brink, teetering at the edge of a precipice I couldn't pull back from.

"Say it," he growled, his possessive tone wrapping around me like a vice. "Tell me no one else can make you feel like this."

As much as I hated it, everything he was saying was true. No one had ever touched me like this, made me feel so completely consumed. It was maddening and intoxicating all at once.

"No one," I finally whispered, my voice trembling. "No one else can make me feel like this."

His lips curled into a satisfied smirk, but he didn't let up. His fingers continued their relentless rhythm, driving me closer and closer to the edge.

"You're mine," he said, his voice a dark promise. "Only mine."

I could feel the climax building inside me, an unstoppable force ready to crash over me. My breaths came in ragged gasps, my body trembling with anticipation.

"Say it," he commanded again, his eyes never leaving mine. "Say you're mine."

"I’m yours," I breathed out, the words spilling from my lips before I could stop them.

That seemed to be what he needed to hear. His fingers quickened their pace, pushing me past the point of no return. The climax hit me like a tidal wave, and I cried out as my body convulsed with pleasure.

He didn't stop; he lapped at the evidence of my release, drawing out every last shudder from my body. The sensation was almost too much to bear, but I couldn't pull away even if I wanted to.

Finally, when it felt like every nerve ending in my body had been set on fire and extinguished all at once, he pulled back and looked up at me. His expression was one of triumph mixed withsomething softer—something that made my heart ache in ways I didn’t understand.

He didn't wait for me to catch my breath. Before I could even process the aftershocks of my release, he flipped me over so I was on my stomach, my cheek pressed against the cool sheets. His grip on my hips was firm, almost bruising, as he arched my back up, leaving me exposed and vulnerable.

I felt him position himself at my entrance, and then he slammed into me. The force of it took my breath away, and I let out a muffled cry into the pillow. He was so much bigger than I remembered, stretching me in ways that were both painful and pleasurable.

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