Page 115 of Gravehouse

He kicks my legs wider, driving back into me hard enough to rattle the whole house.

“This what you want?” he snarls, fisting my hair and yanking my head back. “To be fucked like a slut instead of worshiped like a God?”

I moan, the sound caught somewhere between pleasure and pain.

“Answer me.” He punctuates each word with a brutal thrust.

“Yes!” The word tears out of me. “Fuck, yes, it’s what I wanted.”

His rhythm breaks, every stroke harder than the last, his fingers biting into my flesh.

A heavy thrum starts low in my gut, tightening with every drag of his cock. My nails rake his spine as the pressure climbs past anything I can fight, and something inside me snaps, wanting nothing but the fall.

“Asher,” I whimper. “I’m close, I’m gonna...”

My whole body’s already shaking, already gone, already his.

His hand clamps over my mouth again, muffling my cries as I shatter around him. Wave after wave rolls through me until my legs give out, every muscle useless.

He doesn’t stop, his pace never faltering even as my body quivers in the aftershocks. His hand drops from my mouth and I drag in a ragged breath as oversensitivity turns every thrust into exquisite torture.

“Did I say you could come?” he growls, his fingers squeezing my chin to hold me in place.

Words tangle on my tongue, everything half-gone. “N-no, but I...”

He flips me onto my back, the stairs biting into my spine as he lays his body over mine. His weight crushes me into the steps, my legs parting on instinct as he drives back in, deeper than before, the grind of his hip at that ruthless angle tearing a cry straight from my throat.

My fingers twist in his hair, pulling him closer even as every part of me screams to push him off. “Asher, it’s too fucking much. I can’t...”

He licks a path to my breast, sucking my nipple into his mouth. “You can. And you fucking will.”

His knuckles glide over the leather sheath at my thigh. “Still wanna love me?”

Another thrust punches the breath out of my lungs, a strangled sound snagging in my throat as the gun’s edge drags slow across my skin.

“Answer me.” He flashes his teeth. “This is mine,” Asher hisses, driving deeper. “Just mine.”

“Yours.”You fucking idiot.“It’s always been yours.”

“So glad you said that.” His lips brush mine, his sweat dripping onto my face. The cold barrel traces down my ribs like he’s carving snow, and my heart slows.

He circles his hips, grinding right where I need him, and every nerve there fires at once. “Do you trust me?” he rasps, voice thick.

Higher... almost there...

The wave hits without warning, my whole body arching off the stairs as every muscle locks and pulls him deeper, clenching so tight I can feel each ridge of him, each pulse. The scream that leaves me would wake the whole house if his mouth wasn’t there to swallow it.

He groans, grinding through every convulsion, each slow stroke of his cock dragging my soul out with it.

My thighs shake against his hips, my heels slipping on the edge of the stair.

“That’s it,” he murmurs into my jaw, working me through the aftershocks until I’m whimpering at every shift. “Give me all of it.”

He doesn’t give me time to breathe. My senses are still swimming, my skin slick and raw, when his smirk presses warm against my temple.

A few seconds pass before he leans back, his thumb sweeping along my jaw to tip my face up.

“Nod,” he says, still buried inside me. “Do you trust me?”