His free hand slides down your stomach, tracing light circles just above your mound, teasing you even further. You can feel the wetness between your legs, the evidence of how much you want him, how much you need him. His fingers dip lower, parting your folds, and you cry out into the kiss, arching further into his touch. He growls against your lips, his hips thrusting forward, grinding against your clit, and you're lost in the sensation, the feeling of being so completely wanted and desired.
His lips find your neck, sucking and nipping at the tender skin there, and you feel a shiver run through you. His fingers slip inside you, stroking in a steady rhythm that matches the beat of your heart. You grip his shoulders, digging your nails in as the pleasure washes over you in waves, consuming you. He kisses you again, hard and possessive, and you feel your orgasm building, building, until it crashes over you in a wave of release.
He holds you close as you ride out the intensity of it, his fingers never stopping their rhythm, his lips and teeth leaving trails of sensation across your skin. When at last you've caught your breath, he pulls back to look at you, his eyes dark and intense. "You are mine," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "Always and forever." And you know that it's true; the way he says it, the way he looks at you, there's no denying the depth of his feelings.
His hand moves from your breast, tracing down your stomach, over your hip and to the small of your back. He guides you back to the bed, never breaking eye contact, and when you're lying beneath him, he leans in, pressing their foreheads together. "I love you," he whispers, and this time there's no anger, no malice in his voice. Just raw, unadulterated love.
You close your eyes, feeling the weight of his words, the truth of them. You're not sure how this happened, how you went from being a stranger to someone so important to him, but you don't want it to change. You want to be here with him, feeling the strength of his arms around you, feeling the heat of his body against yours.
He kisses you gently, tenderly, his lips soft and giving. You feel a shiver run through you as his hand slides between your legs, tracing lazy circles around your clit. You arch into his touch, moaning into the kiss. He smiles against your lips, the motion sending a wave of pleasure through you. "You are my everything," he whispers, and you know that he means it. "Without you, there is nothing."
As his fingers continue to tease you, you feel yourself growing wetter, more needy. His other hand moves to your breast, squeezing gently before moving lower, over your stomach and to your hip. He pulls you closer, urging you to grind against his touch. The sensation is overwhelming, and you're lost in the feeling of being so completely desired, so completely wanted.
You moan into the kiss, arching your back as the pleasure washes over you. It's a strange sensation, this mix of pain and desire, but somehow it only intensifies the intimacy between you. His hands roam over your body, possessive and demanding, as if he needs to touch every inch of you to reassure himself that you're really here, that this isn't all some twisted fantasy.
