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Matthias

I see the moment my words settle. The second she stops fighting. The exact breath she accepts this. I see it in her eyes.

What I don’t expect, what I never expected, is for her to close the distance between us and press her lips to mine.

I react instantly. Possessively.

Her lips are soft and warm. A lush invitation.

This kiss is nothing like our first. That was hard, rough, and desperate. That was me taking. Me dominating.

But this… This is something else. It’s gentle, sensual, unhurried. This isn’t about control. This is about her.

She wants this.

She wants me .

I feel the surrender in every delicate brush of her lips against mine, in the way her body melts into mine. This isn’t fear. This isn’t force. This is trust. This is forgiveness.

She shifts against me, struggling against my grip on her wrists. I let go .

Immediately, she wraps her arms around my neck, using them to hold her herself up.

That won’t do. She will never have to support herself. I will always hold her up. I will always take care of her .

I slide my arm around her back, my hand finding the nape of her neck, fingers spanning her delicate throat. I pull her in, molding her body to mine, making sure she feels every inch of me.

Then she moves.

A slow, shattering roll of her hips. A teasing grind of heat against me. A firestorm in a single motion.

I groan, deep and rough against her lips.

Fuck.

Even through the layers of fabric, I can feel her warmth. I can feel the intoxicating friction between us. I pin her hips to the bed, and push against her, chasing every bit of pleasure I can get from the pressure.

She frees her legs from the sheets and wraps them around my waist, pulling me into her. A soft moan leaves her lips, vibrating against my own, as I press exactly where she needs me.

I tear my mouth from hers, trailing feather-light kisses down the column of her throat. She arches, silently begging for more. Her beautiful moans fill the air. I find a spot behind her ear, and when I suck, tremors run through her, and she lets out the most enticing whimper.

I make a mental note of the spot.

We pull apart only when air is a necessity, but it’s still far too soon. If I had my way, we’d always be touching, always be connected.

And all I can think is…

She started this.

She made her move.

She gave in .

She’s been mine since the moment I took her, but now?

Now, she’s sealed it.

She just signed her life over to me.

And she will never escape.