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She moans, needy, breathless. “What?”
“Put a ring on your finger.”
She freezes.
“My last name on your tongue,” I continue, slower now, fucking her deep and mean. “Maybe a new collar too. Gold this time. And then I’ll do this again. And again. Every fucking day if I have to.”
She lets out a trembling laugh—then it breaks, crashes into a soft sob of pleasure as I angle my thrusts just right.
“You’re never letting me go,” she whispers, voice splintering with feeling.
“Damn right I’m not. Now come for your Master.”
I hold her through it.
Through the wave that overtakes her. Through the shaking sobs and stuttering moans and the way her body milks me, tight as a vice, her orgasm wracking her completely.
I keep fucking her through it, slower now, claiming every inch of her. Letting her cry. Letting herfeeleverything I’ve been too fucked up to say until now.
She’s never been more mine than in this moment.
And I’ve never been more hers.
She’s backin her favorite place, sprawled on top of me now, boneless and glowing, her cheek pressed to my chest. Her thighs are still trembling. I can feel the echo of every moan in the thrum of her heartbeat against mine.
I run a hand down her spine. Soft, slow. The kind of touch that saysstay.
Then I kiss her temple.
“You’re everything,” I murmur, voice low and rough. “And I’m so fucking glad I caught you, little thief.”
She hums against my skin. Smiles.
But then she lifts her head, meets my gaze, and her eyes are still gleaming—less with mischief now, more with something deeper.
Something thathurtsa little, even in its beauty.
“You didn’t just catch me, Dante,” she says softly.
I raise a brow. “No?”
She leans in. Presses her lips to my jaw, warm and trembling.
Her voice is quieter this time. Honest.
“You ruined me.” A pause. A breath. “In the best way. Just the way I needed you to.”
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