Page 294 of Ignite

“Yes. God, yes.”

He binds my wrists gently, threading the rope around the trunk so my arms are stretched high above me.

“Can you feel how vulnerable you are?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

“Good.”

His palm smooths over my belly. His touch gentle. A reminder that even in these moments, he’d never hurt me. Not really. Only what I beg for.

I hear his zipper slide down.

“You’re going to take every inch of me,” he rasps, pressing the thick head of his cock between my thighs.

A whimper escapes me.

“Beg for it.”

“Please,” I pant. “Please, Conan, fuck me.”

He groans, gripping my bound wrists with one hand, the other guiding himself to my entrance.

“Mine,” he snarls, and drives into me in a single, claiming thrust.

I cry out, the sound echoing through the trees.

“Say it.”

“Yours,” I sob. “I’m yours.”

“Every fucking part of you.”

He starts to move, deep and unrelenting, and I arch back into him, craving more.

“Don’t you dare come until I say,” he growls, each thrust punishing and perfect.

“I—I can’t.”

“You can.”

His hand slides to my clit, circling it just enough to make me shake.

“You will.”

I’m trembling so hard my knees nearly buckle, but he wraps an arm across my chest, holding me steady.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he hisses. “So wet. You were made for me, wife.”

I can’t form words. My mouth is open, no sound but shattered gasps.

His pace slows, drawing out every delicious friction until I’m teetering on the edge.

His thumb teases my clit again—slow, patient torture.

“Come for me, trouble.”

I shatter, the orgasm ripping through me so violently I scream, my knees giving way as he holds me up.

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