Page 103 of Sweet Obsession

“Unh!” I moaned with each brutal thrust, my hands clawing the sheets, my body rocking with his rhythm.

I gasped, defiance flaring even as pleasure consumed me. “You don’t own me.”

“I own every scream, every shiver,” he growled, spanking my ass again, the sting pulling a sharp moan from my lips. “You’ll beg for me, Luna, or I’ll leave you dripping and desperate.”

Rage and need surged, and just as I felt the coil of climax tightening, he pulled out, leaving me empty.

I cried, my voice breaking, tears pricking my eyes. “Why the fuck did you stop?”

“You don’t get to come until you learn,” he said, his voice cold, his cock hard and glistening between his thighs. “Suck me, Luna. Earn it. Show me you’re mine.”

My face flushed, shame warring with desire. I’d never done this, but the ache in my core was unbearable, a fire only he could quench.

I crawled to him, my lips parting, and took him in, his length overwhelming, gagging me as I struggled to fit him.

“Mmm...” He vibrated.

The sensation was electrifying, his taste salty and raw. I sucked deeper, staring into his eyes, watching him gasp. “Fuck...”

His hand fisting my hair, urging me on. The power of it, his pleasure at my mercy, lit me up, and I loved every second, my moans muffled as I took him to the edge.

Just as his breaths grew ragged, I pulled back, leaving him throbbing, a wicked grin curving my lips. “You’re not innocent either,” I said, my voice taunting. “You could’ve told me about Gabriela, the one person who matters most to me. Tit for tat, Misha.”

“Damn you, Luna,” he growled, his cock jerking, his eyes blazing with fury and lust. “You fucking tease.”

I laughed, but he was on me in an instant, pinning me to the bed, his body a cage of heat and rage.

He slid into me, deeper than before, and fucked me with a ferocity that felt like punishment and worship. My pussystretched, burned, and I screamed, my voice shattering the room.

His hand wrapped around my throat, not squeezing, just holding, a possessive claim as he thrust, his eyes locked on mine. “You’re my fucking obsession,” he snarled, his voice deviant, unhinged. “I’ll chain you to this bed, burn every city, to keep you. No one else gets you. Ever.”

I clawed his back, drawing blood, my moans rising to a primal as the pressure built, my body trembling. “You can’t cage me,” I gasped, defiant even as I arched into him. “I’ll break free.”

“Then I’ll hunt you,” he growled, his thrusts merciless, his hand spanking my thigh, pulling a sharp “Shit!” from my lips. “And fuck you until you forget how to run.”

He suddenly yanked me up, spinning me to face the full-length mirror by the bed. “Look at us,” he commanded, thrusting into me from behind, his hand fisting my hair, forcing me to watch our reflection, my flushed face, my breasts bouncing, his bloodied scratches on his chest, our bodies slick with sweat and smoke. “See who owns you,” he rasped, his teeth grazing my ear, his free hand sliding to my clit, rubbing it.

“Ohhh... fuck...” I wailed, my eyes locked on our feral dance.

The mirror amplified the madness, our reflection a testament to our chaos—his possessive grip, my defiant moans. He bit my shoulder, hard.

“More!” I screamed, my climax crashing closer. “Say it,” he demanded, his voice a dark prayer. “Say you’re mine, or I’ll leave you aching.”

“I’m yours!” I cried, voice cracking, raw with need.

“Fuck—Misha, I’m yours,” I gasped, just as the tension inside me shattered.

My orgasm hit, a primal wail tearing from my throat, my body convulsing, soaking us both. Misha roared, his release slamming into me, our climaxes entwining, a shared detonationthat shook the bed. He collapsed onto me, his weight grounding, his breath ragged against my neck.

I lay there, panting, my body humming, my reflection in the mirror a stranger—hair tangled, lips swollen, marks blooming on my skin.

A half-sob, half-laugh tore from my throat as the reality sank in. He’d fucked me raw, claimed me in ways I couldn’t undo, and I’d loved it—every slap, every thrust, every deviant vow.

“You’re my ruin,” he whispered, his lips brushing my ear, his hand tracing the bruises on my hips.

“Don’t you ever ever keep anything from me again.”

His breath scorched my skin as he growled against my throat, “Never. I swear it. I’d rather bleed for you than lie to you.”