I’m mad with how much I want her. With how much I need to release the desire and want inside of my chest.
“You’re mine,” I grit out between clenched teeth.
Arya legs go of the comforter and drags her hand down my chest, her nails leaving light marks across my skin. “I’m yours, Dima. f**k me like I’m yours.”
I pull out of her and flip her over in one fluid movement. Arya bends over the bed and spreads her legs, unfazed. I push back inside of her and then she brings her legs together, making the hold even tighter.
“f**k,” I moan. I grab Arya’s hands and fold them across her lower back, using them like a leash, like a grip to better direct my movement.
As I thrust, I pull her back, and it feels so good I see stars in my vision.
“Harder,” Arya begs, her face buried in the mattress. “I’m
