Page 83 of Fallen Empire
He didn’t ease in.
He claimed.
The breath was knocked from my lungs as I took him all at once, his cock filling me so deeply, so fully, my vision blurred. He stayed there for a beat, buried to the hilt, his chest against my back and his lips at my ear. He wasn’t breathing right. Neither was I.
"Fuck, Mills…"
It was a promise. A confession. A line we could never uncross.
Then he moved—long, brutal strokes that made my body jerk with every thrust. The sound of skin slapping echoed in the entryway. I gripped the wall, my forehead pressed against the cool surface, eyes squeezed shut as I lost myself in the rhythm.
Every thrust was a punishment. Every moan a reward. And when my hand reached between my thighs to rub circlesover my clit, Ben growled low in his throat, grabbed my wrist, and replaced it with his own.
"You don’t get to finish without me," he murmured, and then did something that sent me spiraling. He bit my shoulder. Not hard enough to break skin, but just enough to mark me. Just enough to say mine. The pressure inside me built fast, so sharp and overwhelming I could barely stay upright. And just when my release was about to crash down, he pulled out completely, leaving me empty and gasping.
“Ben, what the fuck—”
He didn’t give me a second to recover. In one fluid motion, he turned me around, lifted my legs around his waist, and slammed into me so deep I nearly lost consciousness. The breath punched from my lungs as my walls stretched to take him, and a strangled cry left my lips.
“Fuck,” I hissed, my head falling back against the wall behind me. He was too big. Too deep. Every motion a perfect kind of torment that blurred the lines between pain and pleasure—chaotic and consuming, just like us.
“I want to watch you when you cum, baby.” He growled, his voice rough with need. His grip tightened on my ass as he thrust into me, pulling me against him with every punishing stroke, forcing me to take all of him. Over and over.
My climax was already building again, lightning coiling low in my belly, and it felt like my soul was clawing its way out of my body. “Look at me, Mills,” he demanded, voice tight with restraint as his hips slammed into mine, each thrust harder than the last. I tried—I tried to hold his gaze, but my body was unraveling too fast.
“Ben—” I choked, my head rolling forward, forehead pressed to his as I clung to him, eyes fluttering shut.
“No,” he growled, one hand catching the back of my neck as he forced me to look at him. “Keep your eyes on me when you fall apart.”
And then he tilted his hips just right—justfuckingright—and everything inside me shattered. My mouth opened on a scream I didn’t have the breath to give, my body convulsing as the orgasm ripped through me like a goddamn wildfire. I didn’t just come—Icollapsed, clenching around him so hard he cursed against my lips and slammed into me one last time.
He stayed buried deep, trembling as he came with me—raw and unfiltered, spilling himself inside me with a low, broken moan that made my entire body tremble again. It wasn’t just sex. It was aclaim.
And God help me, I never wanted to be free of it.
I was still wrapped around him as he kicked off his shoes and shoved his jeans the rest of the way off. The only thing left between us was his shirt—thin, soft cotton clinging to his frame. He didn’t say a word, just carried me straight to my bedroom like he owned the place. And maybe, in this moment, he did.
My head rested on his shoulder, body limp in his hold, breath still stuttering from what he’d already done to me. He angled his head and dragged his mouth along the curve of my neck, sucking hard enough to bruise just before he tossed me onto the bed.
My legs fell open the second I landed—unguarded, aching,his.
Ben let out a low growl. It wasn’t just lust. It was reverence. Possession. That I was his.
He reached back and yanked his shirt over his head with one hand, flinging it to the side like it offended him. My eyes raked over every inch of him—God, I hadn’t remembered him looking this good. The new tattoos inked across his torso made him look darker. Wilder. There was one along his ribcage thatlooked military—something jagged and personal, a piece of the war he never talked about but never left behind.
The man was built of hard muscle and sin. A body made to destroy and protect. And right now? It was all mine.
My gaze dropped lower, following the trail of faint hair that disappeared beneath his waistband—and holyhell.
He was huge.
Maybe it was the time apart. Maybe it was just my starved imagination. But I didn’t remember him beingthisbig. Or looking like a walking sex god who pulled desire out of me with a single fucking breath. I licked my lips without thinking, eyes locked on the thick length he gripped in his hand as he stroked slowly from base to tip.
“You look like you want a taste.” That fucking smirk curved across his mouth like it had never left.
I didn’t answer.
I moved to all fours and crawled across the bed to him, never breaking eye contact.
