Page 28

She starts to sit up, but I’m already there, pushing her back, keeping her exactly where I want her.

“Eli, what—”

“Shh.” I brush my lips over hers, gentle at first, then firmer when she gasps.

As I kiss her, I slip the pill between her lips, pressing it lightly against hers as my tongue sweeps inside, deepening the kiss.

Her body shudders beneath me, and I feel her hesitate, the unfamiliar taste hitting her tongue.

I want her pliant. Weak. Willing.

“What are you doing? What did you give me?” Her hands come up, but I capture them, pinning them above her head. My fingers tighten around her wrists. She’s so small beneath me, so easy to control.

“Stop fighting me,” I whisper against her lips. “You can’t fight this.”

She shakes her head, but it’s not a real no. It’s the kind of hesitation that drives me insane. She’s already mine.

I kiss her throat, nipping at the skin, leaving tiny marks in my wake. She squirms, a little breathless now, her body betraying her.

I slide lower. Over her collarbone. Down to the delicate dip between her ribs.

“Eli please…” Her voice is barely a whisper. “What are you doing?” I feel the tension in her, but I see it, too.

My hands are already at the waistband of her shorts, tugging them down. She resists for a second, but I just murmur to her, soothing, coaxing. “Shh, princess. I’ll take care of you.”

She’s starting to soften. Her breath slows, becoming heavy, almost languid. I never knew the sedative would be so handy or effective. I usually keep the pills for when I can’t sleep. They are melatonin and I have not had need for them in months.

She is naked underneath her shorts. Pink. Pretty. Perfect.

I work her top off her and then kneel down to admire her cunt. My cunt.

I lift one of her legs over my shoulder, spreading her open for me. My hands grip her thighs, holding her in place as my mouth finds her clit.

She barely stirs, her body warm and heavy, sinking into the mattress beneath her. Her breaths are slow, deep, like she’s still floating between dreams and reality.

I love her like this—soft, pliant, utterly mine.

“Eli…” Her voice is a breathy whisper, unfocused.

I drag my tongue over her slit, savoring the taste of her.

She shivers, but it’s slow, sluggish, like her body is only just beginning to register sensation.

Her fingers twitch where they rest against my shoulders, but there’s no real resistance—just a hazy sort of confusion, as if she can’t quite tell if this is real or just a dream.

“Feels… so good…” she murmurs, her words slurring slightly.

I smile against her, pressing my nose to her, inhaling the familiar, intoxicating scent of her skin. “You are so fucking beautiful, baby,” I murmur, my voice low, soothing. “Come for me.”

Her thighs tense, but I don’t let her move. I hold her still, my grip firm, keeping her exactly where I want her as I lick her.

She’s so relaxed, so docile beneath me, her body already yielding. The little flickers of hesitation only make me hungrier. She still thinks she has a choice, but she’s wrong. She belongs to me. Every slow breath, every sleepy moan, every flutter of her pulse — I own it all.

I press my tongue inside her tight cunt, thrusting shallower and slower this time, dragging out every second, coaxing her body to respond. Her hips twitch, rolling toward me without thought.

That’s it.

My fingers digging into her thighs as I work her over, never letting up, never giving her a chance to pull away. Not that she will. She’s too far gone now, her body sinking deeper into the feeling, instinct taking over where reason fades.

A small, breathy whimper escapes her lips, and I groan against her. “That’s my girl,” I murmur, my words muffled against her skin.

She lets out another little sound, higher this time, a tiny gasp, her fingers barely gripping at my hair. I glance up, watching her. Her lashes flutter against her flushed cheeks, her lips parted as if she wants to say something but can’t quite form the words.

I want to ruin her.

I keep my mouth on her, flicking, circling, teasing, until her body starts to tremble. She’s close, even if she doesn’t fully realize it yet. Her breath stutters, her thighs twitch against my hold. She’s fighting it, holding onto the last thread of control she has left.

I graze her clit over her sensitive clit. A broken moan slips from her lips as her body finally gives in, shuddering, clenching.

Mine.

Her hips jerk weakly against my mouth, her hands falling away, too dazed to hold on anymore as she comes on my tongue. I stay right where I am, savoring every second as she melts beneath me, soft and spent, her body boneless.

I press one last kiss against her trembling skin, then pull back slightly, watching her. Her breath is uneven, her body still shivering with the aftershocks.

She’s perfect like this—barely awake, thoroughly claimed, completely mine.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, smirking as I press a kiss to the inside of her knee. “You did so good for me, baby,” I murmur, my voice thick with satisfaction.

Her lashes flutter, her glazed eyes barely managing to focus on me. “Eli?”

I drag my hands over her soft, sweat-dampened thighs. My chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, my pulse a steady, satisfied thrum.

She’s never looked more perfect.

I smooth my palm over her stomach, feeling the way it still rises and falls in uneven little gasps. Her lashes flutter, hazy and unfocused, her lips parted as if she wants to say something but can’t quite find the words.

My girl.

Something primal hums beneath my skin, something deeper than need, darker than want. I press a kiss to her hipbone, then lower, my lips brushing over the soft skin just above where she’s still wet and aching from me.

The thought of my name on my skin alone makes my blood burn. She’s already mine, but I want the whole world to know it.

I slide my tongue grazing along her hipbone as I murmur against her skin.

“You belong to me, Sienna.”

She sighs, barely awake, barely conscious of the depth of my words. But I don’t need her response. I already know the truth.

“Just rest. I’ve got you.”

She sighs, her body relaxing completely as her eyes drift shut again.

I smile. She’s not going anywhere.

I press another kiss just below her navel, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breath. She’s so soft here, so vulnerable. My cock aches in my boxers.

Reaching for the small kit I set aside earlier, I flick on the machine. The low, electric hum filling the quiet space. The sound alone makes my blood run hot, my pulse hammering in anticipation. I press a hand to her hip, holding her steady, my grip firm but gentle.

“This is just a reminder, baby,” I murmur against her skin. “So, you never forget who you belong to.”

The first touch of the needle makes her stir, a faint whimper slipping from her lips, but she doesn’t wake.

She’s too deep, too lost in the haze of the pill in her system.

I work slowly, carefully, every line of ink sinking into her skin with deliberate precision.

Property of Eli. A declaration. A promise. A warning.

Her breathing hitches, her body instinctively shifting beneath me, but she doesn’t fight. She can’t. Seeing the ink makes my cock leak in my boxers.

This is so damn hot.

I press my palm to her stomach, keeping her still, my other hand guiding the needle as I finish the final curve of the last letter. The ink settles into her skin, dark and perfect, a permanent reminder that no one will ever touch her the way I do. Not even Caleb.

I exhale sharply. The sight of my name etched onto her making my cock ache. She’s mine now in every way that matters.

I set the machine aside, wiping away the excess ink, my gaze locked on the fresh mark. My fingers graze over it, feeling the slight heat of her skin beneath my touch.

Perfect.

Leaning down, I press a slow, deliberate kiss over the new tattoo, letting my lips linger against the raw skin. My tongue flicks out, tasting the salt of her sweat and the faint metallic tang of ink. She sighs again, her body relaxing completely beneath me. She’s so trusting. So mine.

I drag my mouth back up her stomach, my lips skimming her ribs, her sternum, the hollow of her throat. When I reach her ear, I whisper the only truth that matter. “You belong to me.”

She doesn’t stir.

And when she wakes…

She’ll know.

There won’t be a damn thing she can do about it.

The pressure builds, hot and insistent, as my boxers cling to me. I run a hand through my hair, trying to steady my breathing, but the tension only seems to grow.

I can’t hold back any longer. With a sharp exhale, I slip my pants and my boxers down, the relief flooding over me, but it’s not enough. The ache remains, pulsing deep inside. My balls are heavy with the need to come.

My hand has spots of ink on it.

I smile as I wrap it around my cock.

My grip tightens as I stroke myself, slow and steady at first, watching her—the rise and fall of her chest, the faint glisten of sweat on her collarbone, the curve of her lips still parted from sleep. The sight of the tattoo, my name carved into her skin like a brand, pushes me closer to the edge.

I shift, moving between her thighs again, careful not to wake her.

My hand works faster now, gliding over the slick length of my cock, thumb swiping the precum from the tip.

I imagine it’s her hand. Her mouth. Her pussy.

I picture her moaning beneath me, crying out my name, and fuck, my rhythm falters.

I glance at the tattoo, ink still fresh, red around the edges. It’s perfect. She’s perfect.

I lean in and kiss the top of her mound, right where her soft skin meets the edge of the tattoo, just above her slit. I want to bury myself inside her so fucking bad. But not now. Not like this.

This moment is mine.

I grip the base of my cock, hand pumping with purpose now, jaw tight. My breaths come faster, rougher. Her scent is everywhere — on my lips, my tongue, in my head — and it’s driving me mad.

She shifts slightly in her sleep, murmuring something incoherent, and the soft and sweet sound undoes me.

A strangled groan rips from my throat as I come, thick ropes spilling across her stomach, her hip, her tattoo. I jerk in my own hand, letting the pleasure burn through me, consuming every dark, twisted part of me that needs to own her.

My cum glistens on her skin, sticky and warm, a final mark of possession.

I stare down at the mess I’ve made, chest heaving, pulse slowing. I reach for the cloth beside the bed, wiping her clean with careful, reverent hands. My touch is soft now, gentle. I clean the inked skin last, running my fingers over the words again like a prayer. My property.

She sighs, lashes fluttering briefly before settling again. Still deep in sleep.

I kiss her one last time, her temple, her cheek, the tip of her nose.

Then I tuck the blanket over her bare body and slide down beside her, pulling her into my chest. Her back to my front, her warmth sinking into me.

“Mine,” I whisper into her hair.

And this time, I sleep.