Page 89
Story: His Orders
His eyes shine. “You said yes.”
“I meant it.”
He laughs, almost breathless with relief. “Good. Because I wasn’t going to leave until you did.”
I smile through the tears and press my hand against his chest, right over his heart. It pounds beneath my fingers, wild and real and strong.
The ring is still in the box. I pick it up with shaking hands, and he takes it gently, sliding it onto my finger like he was always meant to do it.
It fits perfectly.
“I want you to know something,” he says quietly, his voice a shade softer now. “Claire didn’t matter. I saw her. We talked. But the entire time, I was just waiting to get back here. Back to you.”
I close my eyes. “I know.”
He lifts my hand to his lips, kisses the inside of my wrist. “There’s no one else. There never was.”
We stand in the middle of the living room, arms wrapped around each other, the scent of melting snow and eucalyptus candles drifting between us. I don’t remember when the television turned off. I don’t remember setting the mug down. All I know is this. Him. Me. The ring on my finger. The beat of our hearts.
I tilt my face up to his. “I love you,” I say. “I love you so much, Ethan.”
His eyes darken with emotion. “Come here.”
And then his lips find mine again, hands curving around my hips, mouth tracing the edge of my jaw. I melt into him, every part of me responding like I’ve been waiting for this, like my body knew he would come home.
He lifts me gently, hands cradling my thighs as I wrap around him, his breath catching as he carries me toward the bedroom, his mouth never leaving mine. He pushes the door open with his shoulder and my breath leaves my mouth in a moan as he sits me down at the edge of a vanity.
He tears my panties clean off with one brutal rip, the sound splitting the air like a promise. His grip is rough, almost punishing, as he spreads me open on the edge of the table,shoving my knees apart without asking, without hesitating, like he owns every inch of my body—and I let him. I want him to.
Then he’s inside me.
No warning. No patience. Just the thick, brutal stretch of him filling me in one hard thrust that makes me cry out, loud and broken.
"That’s it," he growls against my ear, his cock buried deep, grinding into a place that makes my vision blur. "Take it. Just like that. Fucking perfect."
I can't breathe. Can't think. I’m already shaking, my hands scrabbling at the edge of the table for something solid, something real, but he doesn’t stop.
He fucks me like he’s feral, hips snapping hard, each thrust hitting so deep it knocks sound from my lungs.
"Please," I sob, the word a filthy little prayer. "Please don’t stop, please—I need it, need you?—"
"You’ll take what I give you," he snarls, one hand fisting in my hair, the other gripping my hip so tight I know it’ll bruise. "My good girl’s gonna come on my cock just like this. Ruined for anyone else."
"Yes," I choke out, shameless and breathless. "I’m yours—I want it, want all of it?—"
He laughs, low and dark, then pulls out just enough to make me whimper before slamming back in, so deep my eyes roll back.
"Filthy little thing," he mutters, dragging me up off the table, spinning me toward the mirror. "Look at you. Look at how cock-drunk you are."
I barely recognize myself—lips swollen, hair tangled, eyes wild with need. He bends me over, one hand between my shoulder blades to keep me in place as he slides back into me from behind, harder now, relentless.
He’s claiming me, branding his name into every part of me, and I can’t stop the sounds pouring out of my mouth—moans, whimpers, desperate little pleas that only make him rougher.
"You were made for this," he groans, watching me in the mirror, sweat beading on his skin as his thrusts grow more savage. "Made for me. Say it."
"I was," I gasp, barely able to speak but needing to give him what he wants. "I’m yours—yours, only yours."
He drives into me from behind, cock slamming deep as my hands brace against the mirror, cheek pressed to the cool glass. My breath fogs the surface, ragged and desperate, my moans bouncing back at me as he pounds into me without mercy.
“I meant it.”
He laughs, almost breathless with relief. “Good. Because I wasn’t going to leave until you did.”
I smile through the tears and press my hand against his chest, right over his heart. It pounds beneath my fingers, wild and real and strong.
The ring is still in the box. I pick it up with shaking hands, and he takes it gently, sliding it onto my finger like he was always meant to do it.
It fits perfectly.
“I want you to know something,” he says quietly, his voice a shade softer now. “Claire didn’t matter. I saw her. We talked. But the entire time, I was just waiting to get back here. Back to you.”
I close my eyes. “I know.”
He lifts my hand to his lips, kisses the inside of my wrist. “There’s no one else. There never was.”
We stand in the middle of the living room, arms wrapped around each other, the scent of melting snow and eucalyptus candles drifting between us. I don’t remember when the television turned off. I don’t remember setting the mug down. All I know is this. Him. Me. The ring on my finger. The beat of our hearts.
I tilt my face up to his. “I love you,” I say. “I love you so much, Ethan.”
His eyes darken with emotion. “Come here.”
And then his lips find mine again, hands curving around my hips, mouth tracing the edge of my jaw. I melt into him, every part of me responding like I’ve been waiting for this, like my body knew he would come home.
He lifts me gently, hands cradling my thighs as I wrap around him, his breath catching as he carries me toward the bedroom, his mouth never leaving mine. He pushes the door open with his shoulder and my breath leaves my mouth in a moan as he sits me down at the edge of a vanity.
He tears my panties clean off with one brutal rip, the sound splitting the air like a promise. His grip is rough, almost punishing, as he spreads me open on the edge of the table,shoving my knees apart without asking, without hesitating, like he owns every inch of my body—and I let him. I want him to.
Then he’s inside me.
No warning. No patience. Just the thick, brutal stretch of him filling me in one hard thrust that makes me cry out, loud and broken.
"That’s it," he growls against my ear, his cock buried deep, grinding into a place that makes my vision blur. "Take it. Just like that. Fucking perfect."
I can't breathe. Can't think. I’m already shaking, my hands scrabbling at the edge of the table for something solid, something real, but he doesn’t stop.
He fucks me like he’s feral, hips snapping hard, each thrust hitting so deep it knocks sound from my lungs.
"Please," I sob, the word a filthy little prayer. "Please don’t stop, please—I need it, need you?—"
"You’ll take what I give you," he snarls, one hand fisting in my hair, the other gripping my hip so tight I know it’ll bruise. "My good girl’s gonna come on my cock just like this. Ruined for anyone else."
"Yes," I choke out, shameless and breathless. "I’m yours—I want it, want all of it?—"
He laughs, low and dark, then pulls out just enough to make me whimper before slamming back in, so deep my eyes roll back.
"Filthy little thing," he mutters, dragging me up off the table, spinning me toward the mirror. "Look at you. Look at how cock-drunk you are."
I barely recognize myself—lips swollen, hair tangled, eyes wild with need. He bends me over, one hand between my shoulder blades to keep me in place as he slides back into me from behind, harder now, relentless.
He’s claiming me, branding his name into every part of me, and I can’t stop the sounds pouring out of my mouth—moans, whimpers, desperate little pleas that only make him rougher.
"You were made for this," he groans, watching me in the mirror, sweat beading on his skin as his thrusts grow more savage. "Made for me. Say it."
"I was," I gasp, barely able to speak but needing to give him what he wants. "I’m yours—yours, only yours."
He drives into me from behind, cock slamming deep as my hands brace against the mirror, cheek pressed to the cool glass. My breath fogs the surface, ragged and desperate, my moans bouncing back at me as he pounds into me without mercy.
Table of Contents
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