Page 146 of Seven Lost Summers
The only sound I manage is a whimper.
He laughs. It’s dark and breathless and his hand is between my legs, fingers moving over my clit while his cock drives into me with a ruthless rhythm.
“I’ll let you come on my cock,” he growls, dragging his mouth along my neck. “I’m gonna fill you so fucking deep you’ll feel it tomorrow. You’ll feel me when you walk. When you sit. Every time you close your legs, you’ll remember this. How hard I fucked you and how you begged for it.”
His fingers flick my clit.
“That’s what I want,” he mutters darkly. “To know that when you touch yourself tomorrow, when your fingers slide over this swollen little clit, you’ll remember exactly how it felt. My hands. My mouth. My cock. All of it. And you’ll fucking cry because you’ll know nothing you do will ever come close to this.”
I break.
The orgasm hits so hard I scream. My body clamps down, spasming around his cock. He fucks me through it, harder, filthier, until I’m gasping.
“That’s it,” he breathes. “You’re mine now.”
My legs shake under me. My entire body is twitching, destroyed and yet I still want more. I don’t even recognize the sound that leaves my throat.
He leans forward, dragging his mouth down my neck, teeth grazing before his lips close hard around my skin. One mark. Then another. And another. Each one darker than the last until I’m left bruised and burning everywhere his mouth claims me.
He thrusts, sudden and deep, and I feel his whole body lock behind me. Every ridge of his abs strains tight against my back, his chest heaving with the force of it. His thighs drive hard into the backs of mine as his hand slides back to my throat, tightening just enough to trap me in that perfect place between submission and madness.
He comes with a sound I’ll never forget. A broken groan, torn from somewhere deep inside him. His body locks, cock buried to the hilt, pulsing as he spills inside me. Hot. Thick. Endless. My pussy clenches greedily around every drop, every throb of him setting off aftershocks that leave my legs trembling.
He yanks me flush against his chest, holding me there while his cock drives into me through every clenching wave. Each thrust drags out the high, every inch of him claiming more as he empties inside me. His teeth bite into the curve of my neck. The sting burns through the haze, and then he seals it with his mouth, sucking until the blood surges to the surface, until the pain blooms. I cry out, my head falling back against his shoulder, body trembling.
And still he doesn’t let go.
He licks the spot he just marked. His tongue dragging over the sting until I’m panting again, the heat between my legs reigniting even though I’m already spent. He kisses the side of my neck. Softer this time. But the edge is still there. The hunger, the claim, that possessive, filthy growl still buried under his breath.
“Mine,” he whispers, voice rough against my skin.
And fuck, there’s no doubt in my mind.
I am his. I always fucking was.
His arms stay locked around me.
One across my stomach, the other still cradling my throat. His body pressed into every inch of mine, keeping me there, keeping me his.
And for the first time in years, I feel complete.
Even if I know it won’t last.
Even if we break apart again tomorrow.
Right now, at this moment, he’s mine. And I’m his.
Because now I know exactly what it feels like to be fucked by Nate Reynolds until I come so hard I forget my own fucking name.
And I’ll never stop chasing it.
Chapter 25
Theo
Thepizza’scold.Limpand greasy, but I’m still shoving it into my mouth. I’m not starving. I just don’t have the energy to care.
I’m stretched out on the couch, half-dead and sauce-stained, one foot hooked on the coffee table, the other planted flat on the floor. The pizza box sits open on the table, grease bleeding through the cardboard, crusts scattered across the lid in lazy disarray, each one a sad little tombstone for my self-respect.
