Page 34 of Phoenix's Rising
"Marking you," he murmurs against my skin. "Showing everyone you're mine."
Mine. The word should scare me. Should trigger all my trauma about possession and control and being treated like property.
But it doesn't.
Because when Phoenix says it, he doesn't mean ownership. He means protection. Commitment. The kind of claiming that comes with responsibility instead of entitlement.
I ride him harder, chasing the pleasure building inside me. My thighs are burning from the exertion, but I don't care. Don't want to stop, don't want this to end, but I’m so close. Can feel the orgasm building, coiling tight in my core. Just a little more, just a little—
"Phoenix," I cry out as it hits me.
The orgasm crashes over me in waves, stronger than the first one. My pussy grips his cock, and I can hear Phoenix cursing beneath me.
He sits up suddenly, wrapping his arms around me, holding me close as I shake apart. His mouth finds mine, swallowing my moans, grounding me through the pleasure.
When the waves finally subside, I'm boneless against him, my face buried in his neck.
"You're amazing," he murmurs, his hands stroking up and down my back. "So fucking amazing."
I pull back enough to look at him, and I can see he's still hard inside me. Still hasn't finished.
"Your turn," I say, my voice hoarse.
"You don't have to…"
"I want to." I kiss him. "I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel."
Phoenix groans. "You keep talking like that and I'm not going to last."
"Then don't." I start moving again, ignoring the sensitivity. "Come for me, Phoenix. Let go."
He grips my hips hard, probably hard enough to bruise, but I don't care and starts thrusting up into me.
"Fuck, Ivy," he grunts. "I'm going to—"
"Do it," I urge. "Come inside me."
His rhythm stutters, and then he's there. I feel him pulse inside me, feel the warmth of his release, hear my name torn from his throat like a prayer.
We stay like that for a long moment: tangled together, hearts racing, both of us struggling to catch our breath. Eventually, Phoenix lifts me off him and lays me down on the bed. I immediately miss the connection, the fullness.
He disappears into the bathroom and returns with a warm washcloth. Then, gently and slowly, he cleans between my legs.
Cole never did this. Never bothered with aftercare. Would just roll over and go to sleep, leaving me to clean up myself. But Phoenix is different. Phoenix treats me like I matter. Like my comfort is important, like this was about more than just getting off.
When he's done, he climbs back into bed and pulls me against his chest. I curl into him, my head on his shoulder, our legs tangled together.
The rain has softened to a gentle patter against the windows, and the room smells like sex and sweat.
"Thank you," I whisper into the darkness.
"For what?"
"For making me feel human again. For reminding me that sex can be good. That I'm not broken."
Phoenix's arms tighten around me. "You were never broken, Ivy. Just hurt by someone who didn't deserve you. And for the record, that was the best sex I've ever had."
I tilt my head up to look at him. "Really?"
