Page 90 of Rise of the Siren Queen
My cock pulsed inside her, and her soft moans only pushed me closer to the edge. But I held. Just barely. Because I wanted her ruined before I let myself go.
Sliding my hand down, I cupped her ass, fingers digging into her flesh as I spread her wider, tilted her hips just right, and drove in another inch. Deeper. Slower. Her body welcomed me, walls fluttering around my cock like she was starving for me.
The first time I hadn’t been gentle. I’d let the beast off its leash, fucked her like I needed her to breathe.
But this time? This time, I was going to savor her.
Ruin her slowly.
Make her beg for it.
Because if this was all I’d ever get, I’d damn well make sure she never forgot who made her come undone.
“More,” she begged, panting. I was only halfway inside her, giving her time to adjust. “Please,” legs tightening around my waist, “give me more.”
I shifted between her thighs, the head of my cock aching from the restraint it took not to bury myself to the hilt. But I leaned down, brushing my lips against the shell of her ear, my voice low, and murmured. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” she mumbled, fierce and sweet all at once. “You didn’t the first time. So claim me again, Adrian. Make me yours.”
She didn’t need to say it twice.
That was all it took to crack me open, to unleash that hunger coiled low in my gut, the fire that made me want to own her with every thrust, every sound I ripped from her throat. My body responded before my mind could catch up. My hips surged forward, rough and deep, burying myself fully in one hard thrust. Her slick heat swallowed me whole, tight and wet and perfect.
She sobbed, high, raw, and I froze, a flicker of panic lashing through me, fast and sharp. Did I hurt her?
But then her voice cut through the haze, hoarse and wild. “Why did you stop? Don’t…don’t stop.”
That demand snapped the leash. My restraint died in her hands.
I moved deep, relentlessly. Our skin slapped together, breath tangling, gasps and groans spilling into the dark like a fevered rhythm. Every inch of me burned. My hand slid up her throat again, not to choke, but to feel the way her pulse beat like war-drums for me. I needed that proof. That she was alive beneath me. That I made her feel this way.
My free hand gripped her breast, pinching, teasing, dragging her higher toward the edge. She arched into me, nails raking down my back, sharp enough to sting, to bleed. It felt like worship.
She screamed, loud and unrestrained, as her walls clamped down around my cock, squeezing with such desperate force I nearly came then and there. Another orgasm tore through her like a storm, wild and beautiful. Her body spasmed under mine, a vision of crimson skin, shivering limbs, eyes wide and ruined.
Fuck.
Watching her break like that? Watching her fall apart on me?
That was what undid me.
I gritted my teeth, thrust twice more, and then I came hard, deep inside her, moaning her name like a curse, like a prayer. My whole body tensed, hips locked to hers as I spilled into her, claiming her in the most primal way a man could.
I’d never felt so animalistic. So undone. So real.
She stripped away everything, peeling me down to the bone and kissing the monster underneath. She didn’t run. She welcomed him.
She would be the death of me. And I didn’t fucking care.
Because she was mine and I was hers.
Under the dim wash of moonlight, with her body still shuddering around me, I made a silent vow, one I would carve into the marrow of my soul.
I would keep claiming her… again, and again, and again. And gods help anyone who tried to take her from me.
* * *
She was curled against me, freshly showered and gloriously spent, her skin still warm and damp where it pressed into mine. The sheets clung to our bodies, the scent of sex and soap lingering in the air like a memory I didn’t want to fade.
