Page 12 of Guardian's Touch

“Yes!” I sob out, raking my nails across his shoulders and down his arms until he hisses in pain. “Yes, give it to me, I love it!”

“Will you ever give this pussy to anybody else?”

“Never!”

“Because it's mine now. You are mine.” He opens his eyes and stares down at me while his hips pump. “Say it. Mine.”

“Yours. Your pussy. Your everything!” I don't even know what I'm saying. Whatever he wants, he has it. He always has.

This familiar pressure is building, tension spreading, and he feels it. “Getting tighter,” he grunts. “Are you gonna come for me? Are you going to come on my cock?”

“Yes! I am!” I'm whiny, needy, and I don't care. He has a way of making me not care at all. Not when it’s so right to have him inside me, to clutch his bulging shoulders and arms, to run my hands down his back and caress his ass as it clenches with every deep stroke. Who cares how I sound when this is the reward?

“Be a good girl,” he croons, rolling his hips, grinding until all I can do is moan helplessly. “Come from me. Come with me inside you. Make me feel it.”

If I wasn't already going to, his words and the way he growls them would push me over the edge.

All at once it happens. The wave crashes over me, and I hear him groaning over my ecstatic cries. “Milk my cock,” he grunts in my ear, pumping wildly in and out while I ride the waves of ecstasy. “You’re gonna make me come, little girl. Is that what you want?”

“Yes!” I hold him tighter, jerking my hips, desperate to make him feel good. I need it. I need him to come because of me—since I know how it feels to finally have what I’ve only been able to imagine for so long. He’s imagined it, too. He needs this.

“Fuck… Camilla… you’re so good… so fucking… good!” He throws back his head, and a sudden rush of warmth floods my core. He’s coming inside me, I realize, and I smile to myself in satisfaction. Somehow, it feels right.

What if I had his baby?No, I can’t afford to think like that, no matter how much I want to. I can’t get all caught up in another fantasy.

Even if he did say I’m his. Even if I meant it when I agreed.

“Oh, fuck.” He collapses on top of me for a second before rolling away with a groan. “That was better than I thought.”

“How many times have you thought of that?” I can’t help but ask, looking over at him. I’d roll over, but I can’t move. I’m too exhausted and sore.

But happy. So happy.

“Too many times,” he confesses with a smirk before rolling onto his side to face me. “But that’s over. You’re mine now. There’s no going back.”

That’s just the thing.

He says it like he’s sentencing me to punishment.

When really, I’ve never wanted anything else.

6

DANE

Four chairs sit around my kitchen table.

Yet for some reason, Camilla sits in my lap while we eat the meager breakfast I managed to put together on our cook’s day off. I didn't ask her to sit here, and she never asked permission. She merely placed her plate of toast and fruit next to mine, then settled on my leg.

I wouldn't tell her to get up even if I wanted to. I’ve spent too long denying myself already.

“Can we finally talk about all the stuff you didn’t want to talk about last night?” She pops a blueberry into her mouth before tucking loose strands of hair behind her ears. She’s still messy from earlier, and I'm sure anyone who's set eyes on her since we left the bedroom knows what happened.

It doesn't help that she's wearing nothing but one of my dress shirts.

If anyone has spotted her, they're smart enough to keep their mouths shut about it.

She’s waiting for an answer. “You'll have to refresh my memory.”

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