Page 77 of On Thin Ice

He watched with hungry eyes as I worked myself open, adding a second finger, then a third, my breathing turning ragged.

“Please,” I begged. “Remind me who I belong to.” I opened my legs wide in invitation, but instead of pushing my thighs against my chest like I hoped he would, Bell gripped my hips and flipped me over roughly, manhandling me until I was on my hands and knees before him.

“This how you need it, E?” he growled, one hand sliding up my spine to push between my shoulder blades, forcing my chest down to the mattress. “Hard and fast. Leaving marks on your skin. Punishing you for making me cry.”

“Yes,” I gasped, no use denying it. It was true, and he knew it was true because he knew me. Better than anyone ever had before. Bellsawme. Saw what I needed. “Hurt me like I hurt you. It’s what I deserve.”

When he finally pushed into me, the stretch was almost too much, a burning fullness that bordered on pain. But I welcomed it, rocked back into it, desperate to feel him as deeply as possible.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise. “You feel so good.”

He didn’t give me time to adjust, setting a punishing pace that had me clutching at the sheets, gasping with each deep thrust. This wasn’t gentle lovemaking—this was Bell claiming me, marking me as his in the most primal way possible.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he demanded again, his voice strained.

“You,” I gasped, the word punched out of me on his next thrust. “Only you. Always you.”

He leaned down, his chest pressing against my back, his mouth hot against my ear. “Say my name.”

“Bell,” I moaned, my body tightening around him. “God, Bell, I need you.”

He thrust into me hard and then stilled.

“Bell,” I sobbed.

He pulled out and slammed back in.

“Bell.”

His hips surged forward again.

“Bell. I need you. I need you so bad.”

His rhythm faltered for just a moment before he drove into me harder, deeper.

“Again,” he commanded.

“I need you,” I repeated, the words spilling from me now, unstoppable. “I need you. I’m sorry. Oh god, I need you.”

He reached around, wrapping his hand around my dick, stroking me in time with his thrusts. The dual sensation was overwhelming, pushing me rapidly toward the edge.

“Give me your cum,” he growled. “Let me feel you milking my cock.”

I came with his name on my lips, my body clenching around him as pleasure ripped through me with an intensity that left me breathless.

Bell followed moments later, burying himself deep inside me with a broken groan that might have been my name.

After, as we lay tangled together, both of us breathing hard, he didn’t pull me close like he usually did. Instead, he propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at me with guarded eyes.

“This doesn’t fix everything,” he said quietly.

I nodded, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “I know.”

“I need to know you won’t bail on me again,” he continued. “That when things get hard, you’ll stay. That you’ll fight for us.”

“I will,” I promised. “I swear to you, I won’t run again.”

He studied me for a long moment. “I want to believe that. Believe you.”

---