Chapter 264: I’m Yours
The canopy bed creaked beneath them, the sound low and steady in the quiet room, but Yuche barely heard it over the sounds Rouxi was making.
Everything in him had narrowed to her, to every breath she took, every sound she failed to hide, every flicker of expression that crossed her face before she could bury it under her pride.
The rest of the house could have collapsed around them and he might not have noticed, not when the whole of his existence had reduced itself to her mouth, her hands, and the sharp little sounds that made his control fray faster each time he pulled them from her.
His hands tightened on her hips before he could stop them, and when he saw the faint red impressions left behind, satisfaction moved through him so sharply it almost hurt. Those marks would fade. He knew that. But for one brief, unreasonable second, he hated the idea of losing even that small proof of where his hands had been when she stopped pretending she was unaffected.
He pulled out suddenly, needing to see her from a different angle, needing to take her in a new way.
He flipped her onto her stomach with surprising gentleness, lifting her hips so she was on her knees, her upper body still pressed to the mattress. The view from this new angle made him groan.
"Like this," he murmured, tracing the line of her spine with one of his fingers. The moment she let out a soft whimper of protest, he pushed back inside her from behind, deeper in a way he hadn’t been able to achieve before.
The sensation of her clenching around him made his head spin with pleasure.
He set a relentless pace, his hips snapping against hers with each thrust. The wet sounds of their joining filled the quiet bedroom, and he loved it—loved the evidence of her arousal, loved the undeniable proof that her body wanted him as much as he wanted her. Because Rouxi could glare, argue, and insult him all she wanted, but her body was being brutally honest in the best way possible.
He reached around, his fingers finding the sensitive bundle of nerves between her lower lips, and began to rub in tight circles while he continued to move inside her. Her back arched, and he heard his name on her lips like a breathless prayer.
"Come for me," he commanded, his voice low and rough, barely controlled. "I want to feel you come while I’m inside you."
The combination of sensations seemed to push her over the edge. Her entire body trembled, and he felt her clench around him as she came, screaming out his name. The sensation of her coming undone because of him, because of what he was doing to her, sent him spiraling toward his own release.
But instead of giving into it, he pulled out of her tight pussy, then flipped her over again so she was on her back, and pushed back inside her in one smooth motion.
This was better. Now he could see her face again, could watch her come again as he chased his own orgasm. Her eyes were unfocused, her lips parted, and she looked utterly ruined... utterly blissful...and utterly his.
His thrusts became erratic, less controlled, purely driven by need. He was close, so close, and every sensation was becoming that much more intense. The warmth of her body, the tightness around his cock, the way her hands moved over his shoulders and back...it was like she was demanding his complete surrender, just like he had demanded hers a moment before.
"You are mine," he said, his voice almost feral. It wasn’t a question or a request. It was a statement of fact. And one that he would be reminding her over and over again. "Say it. Tell me you are mine."
"I’m yours," she gasped, and those two words seemed to undo him completely.
He came hard, burying himself deep inside her with a low growl that sounded almost feral. His hips jerked uncontrollably as he found his release, and he could feel himself pulsing inside her, could feel the absolute loss of control that only she could cause.
For a long moment, he stayed inside her, not moving, just breathing heavily against her skin. His heart was still pounding in his chest, and his muscles were trembling from exertion and the aftermath of intensity.
And even after that mind blowing release.... he found himself already hardening again.
The thought registered distantly... he had taken her, had found his release, but it still wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Not when she lay naked under him like all his wildest dreams and obsessions all rolled into one.
He rolled slightly to the side, still inside of her, but kept one arm locked around her waist, possessive even as he tried to catch his breath. His other hand tangled in her hair, and he pressed his lips to her temple, then her cheek.
"Again," he said, and he could already feel himself hardening completely inside her. "I am not done with you. I will never be done with you even when I am old and grey."
He started moving again, slower this time but no less intense.
He could feel her responding to him, her body already building back toward another peak. He would drive her to it again, and then again after that, until she understood exactly what she had unleashed by asking him that question.
By the time they finally collapsed into something resembling exhaustion, the sky outside her window had shifted.
The afternoon grey had faded into the deep blue of evening, and then into the darker blue of the early morning.
Yuche’s body was slicked with sweat, and his breathing was still uneven. He could feel the marks he had left on her...red impressions on her hips, her neck, her shoulders, everywhere his lips and hands had claimed her.
He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him so that she ended up draped across his chest. Her fingers trailed lazily over the hard muscle, tracing the lines of his body with a casual possessiveness that made something primal in him respond.
"Is that all you have, old man?" Rouxi asked, her voice playful but with an edge of challenge beneath it. Her eyes flashed with something dangerous...amusement mixed with defiance... like she was testing him, daring him to prove something.
Yuche’s mouth tightened. His breathing was still uneven, his body still thrumming with intensity, but her words sent a fresh surge of desire through him.
"I’ll show you old," he replied, his voice low and dangerous.
He rolled her over so that she was on her back before she could respond, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand. She was his now...not in some abstract sense, but in every concrete, physical way. And the last five times would never be enough.
He stared down at her face for several seconds, taking in the flush of her skin, the challenge still burning in her eyes, the slight curve to her lips that said she was enjoying this. Then he kissed each eye slowly, deliberately, a gesture that was almost tender compared to what had come before.
But when he pulled back and looked at her again, his expression was anything but gentle.
"You want to play, Rouxi?" His voice was rough, barely controlled. "Fine. Let’s play."
He released her wrists and moved down her body. "But don’t come crying to me when you can’t walk tomorrow."
