The second I slide into her I feel it. The jolt of heat, that tight pull low in my stomach that says she’s mine and nothing else matters. Her back arches, mouth open in a breathless moan, and she’s already gripping the sheets like she needs something to hold onto. But she doesn’t need the sheets. She needs me. Only me.
I watch her face twist as I start to thrust, slow and deep at first, letting her feel every inch. She gasps, eyes wide, already slipping. I don’t say anything. I don’t have to. I can see it in her, the way her brain starts to fog, the way her lips part and tremble like she’s about to speak but can’t form words anymore. All that smart, bratty attitude she had earlier is gone. Now she’s just open and dripping and desperate. Just my perfect little mess.
I fuck her harder, pinning her hips down so she can’t wriggle away, not even a little. She needs to stay exactly where I put her. I need her to feel how deep I am, how I fill her, how she was made for me. She moans again, louder this time, and I lean over her, pressing my chest to hers, my hand curling around her throat, the other one grabbing the leash. Not tight, just enough to make her whimper. I want her to feel it, the weight of my control, the way she can’t escape, the way she doesn’t want to.
After a while she starts babbling. She always does when I fuck her like this. Filthy little noises and half-formed pleas, calling me Mommy, calling me god, saying she’s mine, mine, mine like it’s the only word she remembers. And she’s right. That’s all she needs to remember. She belongs to me. Her body, her voice, the wet sounds of her cunt taking me over and over. Every part of her is mine. I own her.
I watch her fall apart, head tilted back, tears at the corners of her eyes, and I keep going. She’s already come once, but I’m not stopping. I want more. I want to fuck her through every orgasm until her legs give out and her mind blanks and all she can do is moan my name like a prayer. I want her used. I want her ruined. I want her to feel me for days, aching and swollen and sore, so every step she takes reminds her that I was here, inside her, making her mine again and again.
As I slide my hand down and rub her clit; slow at first, then faster; her body starts to shake. Her voice breaks. She starts crying out like she doesn’t know if she wants me to stop or keep going, but I already know the answer. She’s mine. I am the one to decide. I push her past her next orgasm, grinding deep as she shatters underneath me, screaming, trembling, clinging to me like she’ll fall apart without my hands holding her together.
And I still don’t stop. I’m not done. I need to fuck her until every part of her forgets what it was like not to be under me. Until her body knows the shape of me from the inside. Until there’s no part of her left untouched by my hunger, my control, my need to take and take and take because she gave herself to me and now I’m never giving her back.
She’s mine. I love her and she is mine. She’ll always be mine. And I’ll keep fucking her until there’s nothing left but the proof of that.
