Page 83 of Theirs to Hunt (Girls Like Us #1)

Chapter eighty-three

T he heat of the water fogged everything. Glass. Skin. Thought. Her back pressed against the shower tile, slick and flushed, legs locked around my waist. She wouldn’t let me put a single inch of space between us.

My hand gripped the curve of her ass as I drove into her. Deep. Slow. Drawn out. She moaned, nails biting into my shoulders, breath catching with every thrust. She was relearning how to breathe.

I kissed along her neck, dragged my mouth to her ear, and murmured low, just for her. "Ever had anyone here, little fawn?"

Her breath hitched. "Here?" She sounded dazed.

I gave her a deliberate thrust, fingers tightening on her ass, sliding lower with intent. "In this tight little hole."

She went still, eyes wide, mouth parted. Not afraid. Not hesitant. Just startled I a sked. She swallowed hard. "Only a bullet vibrator," she whispered, voice ragged. "Nothing even close to… you."

The sound of it lit something feral in me. She hadn’t trusted anyone with that. Hadn’t given it. Barely touched the thought herself. But she told me. She gave me the truth.

I rocked into her, slow and punishing, keeping her pinned. "That’s mine then," I growled against her throat. "You understand? No one else gets that. No one else even thinks about it."

Her whimper wasn’t fear. It was the weight of it. Of being claimed. Of being kept.

I kissed her again, deeper this time, letting her feel every ounce of control I hadn’t given away. Control I would give.

Only to her.