Page 62 of Made for Reign

I thrust home in one smooth motion, burying myself to the hilt. We both groan at the sensation—the perfect fit, the heat, the rightness of being joined.

“This is what you needed, isn’t it?” I set a punishing pace, each thrust driving her forward against the window. “To be claimed. To be fucked like you deserve.”

“Yes,” she gasps. “Yes, god, yes.”

I fist my hand in her hair, pulling her head back. “Look at yourself. Look at how beautiful you are taking my cock.”

Her reflection in the window is a work of art—flushed cheeks, parted lips, eyes glazed with pleasure. But it’s the expression of complete surrender that nearly undoes me. She’s given herself to me completely, trusting me with not just her body but with the parts of herself she hides from everyone else.

“I’m close,” she whimpers. “Please, I need?—”

“I know what you need.” I reach around to circle her clit, timing my movements with my thrusts. “Come for me, Audrey. Show me you’re mine.”

She comes with a scream that echoes off the mountains, her body clenching around me like a vice. The sensation triggers my own release, and I follow her over the edge with a growl of her name.

For long moments, we stay pressed against the window, both breathing hard. When I finally pull out and turn her to face me, her legs give out. I catch her easily, lifting her into my arms.

“You did such a good job for me, Princess,” I murmur, carrying her to the bed. The praise brings a soft smile to her face as I lay her down on the dark sheets.

She giggles, the sound light and free in a way I rarely hear from her.

“Is this why you brought me here? To make me come until I pass out?”

I chuckle, brushing damp hair from her forehead. “I brought you here to show you what it’s like to be mine.”

“I think I’m getting the idea,” she says, stretching like a satisfied cat. The movement displays her body in a way thatmakes my cock stir with renewed interest, despite our recent activities.

“We’re just getting started, Princess.” I trail my fingers down her side, watching goosebumps rise in their wake. “I have two whole days to show you exactly what being mine means.”

Her eyes darken at the promise. “And what does it mean?”

I lean down, pressing my lips to the pulse point at her throat. “It means your pleasure belongs to me. Your pain belongs to me. Every gasp, every moan, every fucking breath you take while you’re here is mine.”

She shivers beneath me, her hands coming up to grip my shoulders. “That’s a lot of responsibility.”

“I can handle it.” I nip at her collarbone, then soothe the sting with my tongue. “The question is, can you handle giving up that control?”

“With you?” She meets my gaze, her expression open and trusting. “Yes.”

The simple affirmation hits me harder than any elaborate declaration could. She’s choosing to give me something she doesn’t give anyone else. A real, complete trust. Not the performed compliance she shows her stepmother or Vega, but genuine surrender.

“Stay here,” I trace my fingers along her ribs, memorizing the texture of her skin. “I’ll be right back.”

She makes a soft sound of protest, but I’m already moving to the adjoining bathroom. I grab a warm washcloth and fill a glass with water from the tap, then snag the bag of trail mix I keep on the counter. Basic aftercare, but necessary.

When I return, she’s exactly where I left her, sprawled across my sheets like she belongs there. Because she does.

“Here.” I hand her the water first. “Drink.”

She props herself up on one elbow, accepting the glass gratefully. While she drinks, I gently clean between her thighswith the washcloth, taking care with her sensitive flesh. She hisses slightly at the contact.

“Too much?” I ask, stilling my movements.

“No, just sensitive.” She sets the empty glass on the nightstand. “I’m good. Really good, actually.”

I toss the washcloth aside and open the trail mix, selecting a few almonds and dried cranberries. “Eat these.”

“You’re bossy even during aftercare,” she observes, but takes the offered snacks.

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