Page 11 of In His Name

Her eyes focus on me briefly, then slide away, fixing on some middle distance.

"The rules exist for your protection as much as for my peace of mind," I continue, believing this in my own way. "The world outside these walls is dangerous for you now. You've been gone too long. Your documentation is in my name. Your body bears my marks. Where would you go? Who would help you without asking questions you can't answer? Who would believe your story against mine—a story of abduction against legal marriage records, signed contracts, joint appearances?"

These are logical arguments in my mind, evidence of my care for her rather than merely my possessiveness. I've created a situation where she needs me, where her very survival depends on my protection. This isn't cruelty, in my twisted understanding, but the ultimate expression of commitment—ensuring she can never exist without me.

I kiss her, and while she tries not to respond, her body softens beneath me. My cock is already hard, and I reach between us to find her instantly wet.

“You want me, little one, whether you’ll admit it or not,” I whisper in my ear, my cock already leadking precum at the thought of burying myself inside her.

Her eyes flash with defiance, but her body tells a different story. I slide my fingers through her slick folds, feeling her pulse against my touch.

"I hate you," she whispers, but there's no conviction behind it. Just desire wrapped in denial.

"No." I circle her clit slowly, deliberately, watching her eyelids flutter. "You hate how much you want me."

I push her into the bed, pinning her wrists above her head with my free hand. The vulnerability in her posture makes my cock throb painfully. She's so small compared to me, so delicate, yet she fights me at every turn. It's intoxicating.

"Tell me to stop," I challenge, knowing she won't. Can't.

She turns her face away, bottom lip caught between her teeth. I dip my fingers inside her, feeling her clench around me. A soft moan escapes her, and I capture it with my mouth.

"That's what I thought."

I release her wrists, expecting her to push me away. Instead, her fingers curl into my shirt, pulling me closer. This surrender, however temporary, is sweeter than any victory I've known.

"I'm going to ruin you," I promise against her throat, tasting the salt of her skin. "I'm going to make you forget there was ever a time before me."

Her pulse races beneath my lips. I've never wanted to possess someone the way I want her. It's beyond desire—it's consumption. I want to crawl inside her soul and claim every inch.

"Do you understand what's happening, little one?" I ask, unbuckling my belt. "You're mine now. You've always been mine."

The sound of my belt sliding through the loops makes her shiver. It's subtle, but I catch it—the slight tremor in her body, the hitch in her breath. I've memorized every reaction, cataloged every response. Her body is an instrument I'm learning to play.

"I belong to no one," she whispers, but her thighs part for me anyway.

I laugh, low and dark. "Your mouth lies while your body begs."

I position myself between her legs, the head of my cock teasing her entrance. I want to slam into her, claim her with brutal possession, but I hold back. The anticipation is part of the game—the sweet torture I inflict on us both.

"Look at me," I command.

She hesitates, still clinging to the illusion of resistance. I grip her jaw, forcing her eyes to mine. What I see there nearly undoesme—desire warring with defiance, need battling pride. It's the most beautiful contradiction.

"I want you to remember this moment," I tell her, slowly pushing inside. "When you finally stopped fighting the inevitable."

She gasps as I fill her, her nails digging crescents into my shoulders. The pain only heightens my pleasure. I want her marks on me as surely as I want mine on her.

"Dante," she breathes, and my name on her lips is a prayer and a curse.

I begin to move, each thrust a claim, each withdrawal a promise that I'll return. Always return. There is no escaping this—what we've become together.

"You can hate me tomorrow," I murmur against her ear, feeling her tighten around me. "Tonight, just feel."

Her resistance crumbles with each stroke, each careful manipulation of her body. I know exactly how to touch her, where to press, when to slow down. I've made her pleasure my obsession.

"I'll never forgive you," she moans, even as her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me deeper.

"I don't need your forgiveness." I increase my pace, driving us both toward the edge. "I just need you."

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