[M][f] "I wish to fuck you. Hard. Not as a punishment, but as a necessary reclaiming of what is mine."

*The following is an excerpt from chapter 3 of Pretty Little Slave: A Freeuse Society of Hedone novel, BOOK 3...*

After I stop quivering from my orgasm, Jaime releases my clit.

"Place your hands beside your head," he orders.

I pull my arms out from behind my back in relief. Spread isn't the most comfortable position.

Jaimie moves to straddle my hips before grabbing hold of each of my wrists, pinning them to the bed. I feel his erection pressing firmly between my legs through his briefs.

Relaxed and satiated from my orgasm, I blink up at him, open to returning the favour.

I take in his eyes gleaming with lust and his large bare torso, toned and masculine, and I am reminded how easily this man can take me in whatever way he wants to.

Primal respect mixed with a tinge of fear causes a fresh wave of heat to pool in my lower belly.
Jaimie speaks up, interrupting my thoughts.

"Given the events and revelations of today, I'm going to let your erratic behaviour from earlier slide. However, know that this will not be the case in the future. If you're upset, you will tell me, and I will give you what you need. You don't run off on me. Ever. Got it?"

"Yes, daddy," I whisper, feeling immensely relieved. I don't think could handle a punishment right now.

"Good girl. Now, I wish to fuck you. Hard. Not as a punishment, but as a necessary reclaiming of what is mine. I won't try to hurt you, but it might hurt. Would you consent to that?"

Adrenaline shoots down my spine, a heady mixture of arousal and fear that collects in my belly and spreads liquid heat between my legs. I'm fairly that Jaimie would never cause me serious pain when fucking me, yet the sliver of uncertainty has my heart beating wildly.

"Yes, sir," I manage to say on an exhale.

"Good. It's important that you remember who you belong to. Spread your legs wider."

Wordlessly, I obey. Opening myself up for him to see how aroused I am makes me that much wetter.

Gathering my wrists above my head, he holds them in place with one hand, setting his erection free with the other.

"Last chance to speak up before I ravage you," he says quietly, while dragging the tip of his cock through my slick folds.

My eyes widen at the predatorial look in his eyes. His choice of words has my fear levels rising. What if I change my mind partway? Would he stop? Perhaps I'm not in a place to handle this right now. Maybe I should request that we hold off until tomorrow.

No. The throbbing between my legs tells me that my body needs his cock like it needs my next breath.

"I can take it," I whisper.

"Yeah, you can," he says with a smirk. "And you're going to keep your eyes on mine the entire time. Alright?"

"Yes," I murmur.

"That's my girl."

Then he lines up his cock and plunges inside of me.

I gasp at the sudden intrusion, but somehow the pain of his aggressive thrust meets a psychological need to be taken by this man. It's a salve to the wound created by his decision of three months ago to leave me and cut off contact.

He wants me.

He missed me.

He cares.

He pulls out partially only to thrust back in, harder and deeper, all while pinning me with eyes that speak of possession.

His thrusts are ruthless. Each time he drives his cock inside of me, it hurts. Yet, his need to reclaim me with such primal passion makes me feel deeply desired. The aroused state of my pussy, combined with the fact that I was warned and consented to this, makes the pain bearable.

Like a deer being devoured by a wolf, I freeze and accept the inevitable. My body opens for him, encouraged by the part of my mind that longs for a man to fully claim me—not just temporarily, and not just my body, but my mind as well.

I wrap my legs around him, inviting him deeper, crying out when he hits my cervix. He does ease up slightly then, even as he places his free hand on my throat.

"Who do you belong to, pet?" His voice is nearly a growl.

"You." I respond without hesitation, yet my brain decides this is a great time to flash images of Malachi, Leo, and Max, filling my holes simultaneously, across my mind's eye.

My heart squeezes as I remember the concern all three guys showed me during our last weekend together.

Am I prepared to let them go in favour of giving myself fully to Jaimie?

I might be imagining it, but I get the sense that Jaimie can see the lingering doubt in my mind. The possessive look in his eyes seems to increase as he applies slight pressure to my throat.

"Say it again. Tell me who you belong to."

"You! I belong to you."

"That's right, baby. You are mine."

Keeping a hand on my throat, he increases his pace. I hold onto him with my legs as he fucks me hard and fast. As he gets closer to coming, he increases the pressure on my throat.

Holding my gaze, he releases his cum inside of me. As I feel his cock pulsing, it occurs to me that I've never had a man look at me with the same intensity that he does, like he wants my very soul.

After spending the last three years being desired for only my body, Jaimie's all-encompassing desire presents as a page out of a fairy tale. Yet, I can't help but wonder—is the possessiveness I see in his eyes a sign of real love? Is a man's love and his possessiveness two sides of the same coin?