Page 52 of Held-

“Yes,” she breathes, pushing back against me. “Please, Brayden.”

I push into her with one smooth thrust, bottoming out inside her. The tight heat of her nearly undoes me right there. She gasps, fingers clutching at the sheets as she adjusts to the sudden fullness.

“Fuck, you feel good,” I groan, gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks.

I start moving, setting a punishing pace that has her moaning with each thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixed with her breathless cries and my own rough grunts. I reach up and thread my fingers through her hair, tugging just enough to tilt her head back. I need to see her—reallyseeher.

The flushed cheeks.

The parted lips.

The unfiltered want in her eyes.

The sight of her like that—open, wrecked, meeting me with the same intensity I’m giving her—nearly undoes me.

“You like being fucked from behind like an animal by a man your daddy would call the devil himself?” I growl, driving deeper.

“Yes,” she moans, the word broken and desperate. “God, yes.”

I slam into her harder, watching her face contort with pleasure. There's something fucking beautiful about her coming undone on my cock, begging for more, taking everything I give her. Her skin is flushed pink, her lips parted, eyes half-closed in ecstasy.

“Touch yourself,” I command. “I want to feel you come around me.”

She obeys without hesitation, one hand snaking beneath her to find her clit. I feel the exact moment she touches herself—her walls clench around me, a broken moan escaping her throat. The feel of her pleasuring herself while I drive into her from behind is almost enough to push me over the edge.

But I hold back. I want to feel her come apart first.

“Take it,” I growl, slapping her ass again, harder this time. “Take all of it.”

She's close—I can feel her walls fluttering around me, her body shaking beneath my hands. I lean over her, one hand braced beside her head, the other snaking around to replace hers, my fingers finding her clit.

“Oh God,” she gasps. “Brayden, I'm going to?—”

“Do it,” I demand, circling her clit faster, matching the rhythm of my thrusts. “Come for me. Let me feel it.”

She shatters with a cry that sounds like salvation, her body clenching around me, milking me for all I'm worth. The sight of her coming undone beneath me, because of me, pushes me over the edge. I drive into her one last time, burying myself to the hilt as I empty inside her with a guttural groan.

For a moment, we stay frozen, both of us panting. Then her arms give out, and she collapses onto the mattress. I follow her down, careful not to crush her, my body still joined with hers.

“Holy shit,” she breathes, her words muffled by the pillow.

I chuckle against her shoulder, pressing a kiss to the damp skin there. “Yeah.”

I roll off her, careful not to hurt her as I collapse onto the mattress beside her. She turns her head to look at me, her cheek still pressed against the pillow, hair a tangled mess across her face. There's something so goddamn perfect about her like this, thoroughly fucked, glowing, mine.

“I don't think I can walk,” she mumbles, a lazy smile spreading across her face.

“Good.” I reach out, brushing her hair away from her face. “That was the plan.”

She laughs, the sound soft and unguarded. “You're terrible.”

“And yet, here you are.”

“Here I am,” she agrees, turning onto her side to face me properly. Her eyes search mine, suddenly serious.

For a long moment, neither of us speaks. The room feels smaller, quieter. The only sound is her breathing.

Her fingers drift along the edge of one of my tattoos, tracing the curve of ink as though she’s trying to learn me through touch alone. “What happens now?” she whispers.