Page 22 of Stalked By Raiden

“Yours!” The word tears out of her, broken and desperate. “I’m yours, Raiden, only yours! P-please, please, please!”

I don’t let her come. I withdraw my fingers just as she’s teetering on the edge, and she sobs with frustration, with the cruel denial of release. I unhook my belt. She hears the clink, followed by the rasp of my zipper, and then I’m there, the head of my cock pressing against her entrance, teasing, not entering fully.

“You’ve been thinking about him,” I say, my voice dangerously soft. “Letting him into your head. I think you’ve forgotten who you belong to, Freckles. I think you need reminding.”

I push in, just the tip. She tries to push back, to take more, but my hands grip her hips, keeping her still. “No,” I say. “You take what I give you. Nothing more.”

I work myself in small, shallow thrusts that drive her insane. That hit just enough to keep her on the edge without letting her fall over. My hand comes down on her ass again, sharp and stinging, and she cries out, her body clenching around me.

“Who owns you?”

“You,” she gasps.

Another thrust, another spank. “Who?”

“You, Raiden, you. P-please!”

I keep her there, suspended on the knife-edge of orgasm, for what feels like forever. Every shallow thrust, every sharp slap of my hand, every growled question pushes her higher until she’s incoherent and babbling. Tears stream down her face, and I know her body needs a release.

“Please,” she begs, her voice broken. “Please, Raiden, I need to come, please let me come, I’m yours, I’m yours, I’ll never forget again…”

I reach beneath her, find her clit with rough, demanding fingers, and finally drive my cock into her fully, burying myself to the hilt. She comes instantly, screaming, her body convulsing around me, but I don’t stop. I thrust into her, relentless, my fingers still working her oversensitive clit. Before she can recover, another orgasm is building, cresting, and crashing over her.

“Again,” I growl, my voice strained with my own restraint. “Give me one more, Freckles. I want to feel you come around my cock when I fill you up.”

I don’t think she can. Her body is limp, spent, trembling with aftershocks, but I angle my hips differently. I hit something deep inside her that makes her wail, and suddenly she’s there again, rising, breaking and shattering around me.

“Fuck!” I grunt as I finally let go, groaning long and low as I spill inside her, hot and claiming and endless.

I collapse over her, my weight pressing her into the mattress, my mouth finding her neck, her shoulder, the curve of her spine.

“No one come near you,” I murmur against her sweat-slicked skin, my voice fierce and possessive. “No one. You’re mine, Elodie. Mine to protect. Mine to keep. Mine.”

I hold there a while longer, still buried in her, until my breathing evens out. Then I withdraw and trail my mouth down her trembling body—her neck, her shoulder, the small of her back, and the still-pink sensitive flesh of her ass. Each press of my lips is a promise, a claim, and I feel her sigh, drifting, safe in a way she hasn’t felt in years.

When I finally withdraw, she whimpers when I move her, boneless, at the loss. But I’m already half gone. I pull her fully onto the bed and arrange her against my chest. I kiss her gently, tenderly, a stark contrast to the rough claiming of moments before.

“I’ll be right back,” I whisper, and I ease out from under her and cross to the bathroom.

I return with a warm, wet cloth and clean her with careful, gentle strokes. Between her legs, down her thighs, everywhere I marked and claimed. By the time I’m finished, she’s barely conscious, her body sated and heavy, and her mind hopefully at peace.

I slide into bed beside her, pulling her against me, my heartbeat steady beneath her cheek. My hand strokes her hair, her back, soothing her toward sleep.

“I’ll keep you safe,” I murmur into the darkness, my voice fierce and certain. “No matter what. I promise.”

She drifts off with my arms around her, my promise wrapped around her like armor.

⁎⁎⁎

While Elodie sleeps, I organize a meeting with the boys in the basement.

“So. Why are we here? You called an emergency meeting,” River starts, breaking the silence.

“He hit her apartment,” I say.

Silence reigns for a beat.

Royal slowly closes his laptop. “Was she there?”