Page 243 of The Rules
He pulled back—almost completely—leaving her gasping, hollow. She trembled, chased the loss, instinctive and raw, desperate for him again. Then he slammed back into her. Hard.
She cried out, her body arching, pressing back into him like she needed more, wanted more. The sight of her—desperate, wanton, completely his—ignited something primal deep in his chest.
"No one else will ever touch you," he snarled, his voice a low growl against her neck, breath hot, mouth close—his hand still firm around her throat.
Thrust.
"No one else will ever fuck you."
Thrust.
"And you won’t want them to."
His other hand gripped her hip, tight and commanding, pulling her back into him with every movement, anchoring her exactly where he wanted her.
"Because this—thisis all you’ll ever fucking need."
He didn’t wait for her to agree.
He didn't need her confirmation. He knew it viscerally—felt it in how her body surrendered completely beneath him, in those fractured, helpless sounds she couldn't contain as he claimed her. Each thrust drove the truth deeper. She belonged to him, utterly and irrevocably.
But knowing wasn't enough. Not tonight. Tonight, he needed to hear it from her lips.
"Say it, Katherine," he growled, the words rough and demanding. "Say you're mine."
Her face—flushed, trembling, eyes wide and glassy—was a roadmap of pleasure written just for him. Her voice cracked as she clawed at his wrist—not to fight him, not to escape, but to anchor herself as the pleasure threatened to sweep her away.
Her lips parted around a gasp, and then came the whisper.
A prayer offered up to him alone.
"Yours."
His grin broke slow and savage across her skin—feral, claiming, dark with satisfaction.
"That's right," he breathed, his voice like crushed velvet and sin. "You're mine. All mine."
He thrust deeper. Harder. Fucking her like he was imprinting it into her bones.
"And you'll take everything I give you, won't you?" he murmured against her skin, licking the words over her pulse point. "Because that's what good girls do."
He felt Kath's whole body stutter beneath him.
She shuddered—beautiful, shaking, ruined. Her breath came in broken bursts, her thighs trembling violently against his hips.
"Yes—" she gasped. "Ben—fuck—yes."
Her nails raked down his arms, leaving stinging trails of fire in their wake. She writhed beneath him, every tremor an unspoken plea. Muscles clenched tight, like she was fighting her own survival instinct. Every twitch of her hips begged for release—and still, she held on. Just for him.
Hefelt it. Felt her getting close. Too close. But he didn’t let her fall. Not yet.
He slowed—just enough to hold her at the edge. Just enough to make her ache.
The denial made her whimper, a sound so soft and helpless it tore straight through what little control he had left.
"Stay with me," he murmured. "You don't come until I say."
Kath nodded, wild-eyed, lips bitten red and swollen.
