Page 47 of Owned In Misty Mountain

Her flannel slips open. No panties underneath.

Good girl.

I strip her slowly. Kiss every inch. Bite down on her hip hard enough to leave proof.

She’s already wet. Soft. Ready.

I undress fast—brutal, clumsy, teeth clenched—and settle between her thighs.

“I’m gonna make you come so many times tonight,” I mutter, dragging the head of my cock through her slick. “But the last one? That’s gonna be with my cum leaking out of you and a ring on your finger.”

Her eyes go wide. “Mike—”

“Shh.” I slide in. Hard. Deep. Slow enough to savor every gasp.

She arches, thighs shaking.

I grip her hips. Grind deeper.

“You feel that?” I groan. “That’s what claiming feels like.”

She whimpers.

“I’m not just fucking you, Shanay. I’m keeping you.”

—-

I take her hard, slow, every thrust heavy with promise.

She claws at my back. Moans my name. Begs when I pull almost all the way out.

I make her beg louder.

When I feel her tighten, I hold her jaw and say, “Come for me, baby. Now.”

She shatters.

I follow, bare and deep, spilling everything inside her with a groan that could level mountains.

—-

When she’s limp and gasping beneath me, I don’t move.

Just pull open the drawer. Grab the ring I’ve had for two days.

Simple gold. Strong. Like her.

I hold it up.

“You already said yes with your body a hundred times,” I murmur, voice wrecked. “Now say it with this.”

She stares. “You’re asking me now? Like this?”

I nod. “Not on my knees. Not in a tux. Just me. Naked. Sweaty. Inside you. Forever.”

Her laugh chokes into a sob. “God, yes.”

I slide it onto her finger and pull her up into my lap again.

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