Page 72 of His to Take

“RYYYYKERRRR!” His name was a primal yell emitted from my deepest depths. I came so hard that I saw those fireworks behind my eyelids. I bucked and writhed beneath him, the brilliant cascade of pleasure ripping through me and capturing mind and body in its thrall of powerful euphoria. My nails clawed at his arms frantically, and my inner walls squeezed his cock, making him yell out.

By the time I came down, my whole body was buzzing with passion. My hands grasped him tighter as I simply breathed, closing my eyes and enjoying the ecstasy of my release.

That first orgasm was bliss.

But the lovemaking was over. Now the real fucking began.

I cried out as he pounded into me far harder than before. He did it over and over and over again, hitting so deeply that I could feel him hammering against my cervix. I whimpered with alarm, but that did nothing to slow him down.

If anything, he fucked me even faster.

Now that I’d already come, I was extremely sensitive. My entrance burned from the stretch and friction of his massive girth. Even my cervix grew sore, punished by the head of his cock and his frenzied fucking.

No, this wasn’t making love anymore.

This wasn’t just a fucking either.

This was a claiming. A complete possession of me, body and soul.

This was a powerful man making me his wife.

With every thrust, he was branding me as his. With every cry that fell from my lips, I was testifying to his ownership.

Soon, my panicked cries turned to moans and then to full-throated screams. He didn’t relent in the slightest. Sweat poured down his face and chest, made his arms and back wet under my hands. His pelvis ground against my clit, and I came for a second time that night. I squeezed my eyes shut and arched into my husband, giving in to his claim. My orgasm seemed to go on forever.

There was nothing else except the two of us, connected in a way that was far more visceral, more profound than anything I could have ever imagined.

This was love.

This was the making of us.

Our souls fused so utterly in that moment that it made us one more completely, more irrevocably, than any dress or ceremony ever could.

“Take me, Naomi. I want you round with my child, marked with my seed, tied to me in every way that matters,” he rumbled

When that second orgasm crested, my body felt like it was afloat on flame. My skin was feverish. Beads of sweat ran down my face and a puddle gathered in the slight hollow between my breasts, and nothing in the world beyond this bed mattered. His cock thrusting into me was everything I ever wanted.

His hand slipped up toward the back of my scalp, fisting in my hair. His thrusts now caused a fresh burst of new pain across the back of my head that went surging down my spine. Immediately, a third orgasm slammed into me, fierce and merciless as a tsunami crashing into a crumbling cliffside. I came so hard that my vision blackened at the edges and white noise filled my ears. He groaned, then yelled, and his fist tightened. I cried out, bucking beneath him.

“I’m going to breed you, Naomi. Over and over, until I’ve given you everything. Until your body craves it, begs for it, until you’re carrying the proof of what’s mine,” he bellowed the declaration, his gaze locked on mine, full of furious intent.

He rode me, pounding and jerking, faster and faster, hard enough that I worried he would truly damage me.

“I’m going to fill you up, Naomi. You’ll be dripping with me, so full that your body won’t have a choice but to take. You’ll give me everything—everything I’ve ever wanted.”

With a deafening roar, a blazing torrent erupted inside me, thick and deliciously hot. Ryker came as intensely as he’d fucked, yelling my name, locking his hips to me, the cords of his neck pulling taut, every muscle of his brutal body bulging andstraining to fuse our bodies together, pumping wave after wave of liquid fire into me.

“You’re perfect, Naomi. Do you feel that? That’s me filling you, planting my seed deep,” he growled.

My own orgasm continued, so long and hard that I struggled to draw in air. My legs quaked, lungs constricted, my own muscles spasming with soul-shattering pleasure.

He gradually slowed to a stop, gasping, sweating, arms shaking.

He leaned down, kissed my forehead, and nipped my other earlobe.

“Do you see why I made you wait, my blushing bride?”

“Yes,” I whispered, still struggling to suck in a full breath of air.

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