Page 171 of His To Erase

“Fuck you,” she chokes out. Her legs lock around me as her body begs. It’s feral and messy. It’s too much and not enough all at once. Her head falls back, and her mouth is open in a silent cry as I thrust harder, dragging her right back to the edge she swore she was done with. She clenches around me, slick and pulsing and fucking perfect—I lose whatever thread of control I had left.

My hand fists in her hair, yanking her head forward so she has to look at me when she comes.

“Look at me,” I growl. “Let them fucking hear it.”

She sobs—loud—and shatters all over me, her body is seizing like she’s breaking open from the inside out. And I follow—driving deep with a growl ripping from my chest as I come inside her, hips slamming against hers like I’m trying to brand her from my cock alone.

I press my forehead to hers, breathing her in like the air might disappear if I don’t take all of it now. Our exhales are ragged, tangled between us, and her skin burns against the cold bite of the night.

“If you ever let another man touch you again…” My thumb drags slowly over her bottom lip, still swollen from everything I’ve taken. “I swear, I’ll fucking kill him.”

She doesn’t answer, but her mouth parts like she wants to. Her lashes are damp, and her pupils are still blown wide.

I lean in, lips grazing her ear. “I don’t share. I don’t forget. And I sure as fuck don’t let go.”

Then I slide out of her, watching the way her body flinches from the loss. Her breath catches, and she clutches at the space between us like she’s still chasing that last wave.

Good. I wanted to ruin her for anyone else. The next time she thinks about leaving, she’ll remember the way I claimed her. Even if she hates me for it.Especially if she does.

She tries to close her legs, but I stop her. My hand slides between them again, dragging through the slick mess Ijust fucked into her, smearing it everywhere. “You’re mine.” I whisper.

She jerks beneath my touch, trying to resist, but I don’t let her. I bring my hand up slowly and press two fingers against her lips.

“Open.”

She hesitates, but her lips pop open.

“Do you taste that?” I murmur, eyes locked on hers. “That’s mine.”

Her breath shudders as I push my fingers past her lips and she sucks in a sharp inhale through her nose as her lips close around them. Her tongue moves instinctively around my fingers, and fuck me, I almost lose it all over again.

“Good girl,” I rasp, dragging my fingers back out and brushing her chin with my thumb. “Say it.”

Her voice is wrecked and broken around the taste of us. “…yours.”

The sound is a goddamn weapon and I will never let her forget who she belongs to.

I rest my forehead against hers for a beat, both of us breathing hard, the cold air cutting through the sweat between us. My blood's still boiling, but my head is already turning—calculating. Locking in on what I know, and what I don’t.

“We’re going back to the cabin,” I say. “You’re going to sit your ass on that couch, and you’re going to talk.”

I lean in, teeth grazing her jaw. “Or I’ll drag the answers out of you another way.”

I feel her shiver under my touch.

The walk back is quiet except for the crunch of the dirt and Bernadette’s occasional bark in the distance. I stay close enough to catch her if she bolts again, not that she will.

Inside, the air is warm, and the dull flicker of another Harry Potter plays in the background. She doesn’t speak as shecollapses onto the couch, hoodie still half off, and her cheeks flushed. She sits like someone who's been hit by a truck and doesn’t know if she lived or not.

I stay standing, watching her as she stares at the screen for a long time—eyes flicking toward it, but not seeing it.

“I don’t know where to start,” she says finally, her voice is small and raw.

“Try the beginning,” I murmur.

“I don’t remember the beginning.”

She curls her knees up to her chest and hugs them. Her eyes are glued to the TV like she needs something to distract her.