The door clicks shut, and the silence hits me hard. The weight of the day’s still there, but the second I see her—my girl—nothing else matters. She’s sitting at her desk, face lit up by that soft glow of the screen, completely unaware of how I’m watching her.
And just like that, it’s over. I’m still tired, sure—but that hunger? That’s louder. She’s in my space, under my roof, wearing my shirt and nothing else, like she forgot who it belongs to. Like she forgot who she belongs to.
I don’t say a word—I don’t need to. I walk up behind her, my hand sliding into her hair, tugging just enough to make her tilt her head back. She gasps, body reacting to me before her mind even catches up. Her lips part, but she doesn’t speak—because she sees it in my eyes. The need. The obsession. That dark, undeniable claim I’ve got on her.
“You left me waiting,” I murmur against her jaw, my teeth grazing her skin as I move down her throat, feeling her pulse race under my tongue. “You were sitting here working while I was out there losing my mind thinking about you.” My hand moves lower, fingers trailing down her stomach, slipping under the edge of that shirt that barely covers her. “I should punish you for that.”
Her breath catches, thighs pressing together like she already knows what’s coming—but I don’t let her. My hand slides between them, fingers spreading her open, making sure there’s no escape. Her head falls back against my shoulder, her body melting into mine because she knows—fighting me is pointless. There’s nowhere to go. There’s only me. Only this.
“I’m too tired to be gentle,” I whisper in her ear, my teeth dragging over the skin. “Too tired to ask. I’ll take what’s mine—and you’ll give it to me. Because you belong to me.”
I pull her up from the chair, keeping my grip firm around her throat as I walk her to the bed. When her knees hit the edge, I push her forward, watching her fall onto her hands, her body right where I want it. I press down over her, my weight keeping her pinned, my breath heavy against her ear.
“You know better,” I growl, my hand sliding between her thighs again, spreading her open until she’s gasping—already wet, already mine. “You know better than to make me wait. I’m not patient. I’m not gentle. Not after a day like this.”
When I take her, it’s with no hesitation—just hunger, just need. My hand stays around her throat, keeping her still, making her take every inch. Making sure she remembers exactly who owns her. My girl. My possession. The only thing that keeps me sane and drives me crazy all at once.
I don’t stop until my name is the only thing she remembers how to say. Until she’s covered in my marks, my fingerprints on her skin, my obsession buried so deep inside her she’ll still feel it tomorrow.
“I’ll sleep when I’m done with you,” I whisper against her hair, “and not a second before.”
Because no matter how tired I am, I’ll always need you more.
