Page 97 of Stolen Harmony

Before I could catch my breath, he scooped me up—arms strong beneath my thighs and back, carrying me like I weighednothing at all. He stalked out of the bathroom, dripping water, all muscle and intent, and carried me back to the bedroom. The world spun around me: the hallway a blur, the air heavy with sweat and steam and the scent of our bodies.

He tossed me onto the bed, my back bouncing against the mattress, legs spread, still glistening from the bathroom. I laughed, breathless, lost in the look he gave me—a hunger that bordered on wildness, eyes dark with promise and need.

“You’re not getting away,” he growled, crawling over me, pinning my wrists above my head with one hand, the other sliding down my body, nails raking across my ribs, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

“I don’t want to,” I gasped, arching up to meet him, caging him between my thighs, cock hard and leaking, aching to be filled.

He grabbed the lube from the bedside, slicked his cock and lined up in one practiced, eager motion, the tip pressing against my entrance, still sensitive, still open and ready for him.

He pushed inside, slow at first—letting me feel every thick, glorious inch, stretching me all over again, making me moan, head thrown back, eyes rolling.

“Fuck, Elias—yes—don’t stop—” I babbled, hips grinding up, wanting every bit of him, wanting to be taken, used, claimed. The stretch was perfect, just shy of too much, the pain a sweet edge to the pleasure.

He buried himself to the hilt, pausing to kiss me, deep and rough, then began to thrust—long, slow strokes at first, filling me completely, then building speed and force, every thrust driving the breath out of me.

He let go of my wrists, hands finding my hips, gripping me tight, pulling me onto his cock with every snap of his hips. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed in the room, mingled with our moans and curses, the air thick with heat and the wildenergy of bodies finally,finallyallowed to have what they wanted.

“You feel so good,” he gasped, voice cracking, sweat dripping from his brow, his whole body trembling with restraint and need. “So fucking tight—my good boy, taking daddy so well?—”

“Harder,” I begged, spreading my legs wider, heels digging into the mattress, trying to take him deeper, wanting him to wreck me, ruin me, make me his in every possible way.

He answered with a growl, slamming into me harder, the bed rocking beneath us, headboard thumping the wall in a relentless, savage rhythm. He bent, mouth latching onto my neck, biting, sucking, marking me, claiming me inside and out.

I clawed at his back, fingers digging into muscle, needing to feel every flex, every shiver. “That’s it—fuck, Elias—right there, don’t stop?—”

He shifted, angling his hips, hitting that spot inside me that made me see stars, made my vision white out, made my cock jerk untouched, precome smearing across my stomach.

He fucked me hard and deep, never letting up, never losing the rhythm, his cock thick and hot, filling me, stretching me, dragging me right up to the edge.

“Gonna come inside you,” he groaned, breath hot against my ear, voice rough with desperation. “Gonna fill you up, make you mine—want you to feel me for days.”

“Do it,” I whispered, “Please, Elias—please, daddy—want to feel you come, want you to own me?—”

That broke the last of his control. He slammed into me, hips jerking, teeth sinking into my shoulder as he came, cock throbbing, heat spilling deep inside me. I felt every pulse, every spasm, the sheer intensity of it making me shake, making me clench around him, milking him for every drop.

He stayed inside me, panting, forehead pressed to mine,arms shaking with the effort of holding himself up. His cock softened only slightly, still thick and hot, plugging me, making me feel thoroughly, undeniablyhis.

We stayed like that for a moment, breath mingling, bodies shaking, the only sound the ragged echo of our hearts slowing back to something like normal.

But then he kissed me, slow and sweet, and whispered against my lips, “I want you to fuck me.”

I blinked, stunned, arousal sparking fresh and wild. “Are you sure?”

He nodded, eyes soft, voice raw with trust. “I want to know what it’s like. I want to feel you inside me. I want—everything.”

Something twisted sweetly in my chest—pride, awe, desire all tangled together. “Yeah. I’ll take care of you.”

He rolled over, spreading himself out on the bed, legs wide, arms open, vulnerable and perfect. I knelt between his thighs, kissing my way down his body, worshipping every inch until he was trembling beneath me, cock already swelling again, eager for more.

I slicked my fingers and found his entrance, gentle and slow, pressing inside, letting him get used to the stretch, the intrusion. He moaned, hips rocking, meeting me, breath catching at every new sensation.

“That’s it,” I murmured, kissing his knee, his thigh, praising him, encouraging him. “Relax. You’re so good for me. Let me make you feel good, daddy.”

He groaned, relaxing around me, taking my fingers, learning how to let go, to be open, to be taken. When I judged him ready, I slicked my cock, lined up, and pressed in, slow and steady, watching every flicker of sensation on his face.

The heat, the tightness, the trust—it was almost too much. I sank into him inch by inch, shuddering at the way he stretchedaround me, the way he took me, greedy and hungry, desperate for more.

“Fuck, Rowan—” he gasped, “So big—so good?—”