Page 121 of Filthy Rich Silver Foxes
"You’ve been mine since the first fucking kiss," he says.
His mouth trails over my throat, my collarbone, the heavy curve of my breasts, before he pulls back just enough to stare down at me.
"Mine," he says, voice rough.
His hands are everywhere—mapping, claiming, coaxing every gasp and whimper from my body until I’m writhing beneath him. He pushes my thighs apart, his fingers finding my clit and circling it until I’m arching off the mattress. His mouth follows, licking a slow, torturous path up my body.
“Tell me to stop,” he growls into my neck, breath scalding.
I shake my head before I can even think.
“That’s what I thought.”
In one rough motion, he tears my panties down my legs and tosses them aside. His hands grip my thighs, spreading me wider, and then he’s kneeling between them, dragging the blunt head of his cock through my slick folds, just barely brushing my clit.
I gasp, hips jerking.
He smirks. "Already so wet for me."
I whimper.
"Stay still," he commands, his breath hot against my ear. He fists himself once, lining up—and then he pushes in.
I clutch at the sheets, trying to adjust, but Sebastian doesn’t give me time. He buries himself to the hilt with one punishing thrust, groaning low in his throat when he’s fully inside me.
“Fuck, baby. I missed you,” he rasps.
He stays still for a heartbeat, letting me feel every inch of him, every thick, aching pulse. Then he pulls out almost all the way and drives back in, making me cry out.
"That's it," he grits out. "Take it."
I do. I take everything he gives me, every relentless thrust, every filthy word murmured against my ear.
“You feel that?” he growls, driving in even deeper. “That’s mine. You’re mine.”
I nod frantically, lost to the pleasure ripping through me.
He shifts, angling his hips until he hits that spot. I shatter, clenching down around him so hard he curses under his breath. My orgasm tears through me, but he doesn’t stop.
He rides me through it, fucking me until I’m gasping and begging without shame.
"Another one," he demands. "Give me another."
I can’t think. I can only feel—the heavy press of his body, the sound of our skin slapping together, the desperate way he thrusts deeper.
He releases my wrists and grabs my hips instead, hauling me up to meet every stroke.
“Goddamn it, Genevieve,” he grits out. “I’m going to wreck you.”
And he does.
He fucks me until tears leak from the corners of my eyes, until my body bows tight and my second orgasm rips free, even more violent than the first. I scream his name, my nails clawing at his back.
That’s what finally breaks him.
With a hoarse shout, Sebastian comes, his entire body going rigid above me.
He doesn’t pull out immediately. He stays there, breathing hard, still buried so deep I can feel every aftershock.
