My Possesive Alpha CEO

Chapter 15: Penthouse

He lifts his head. Eyes burning with intensity. “You’re not just mine, Ash” he whispers. “I’m yours completely.” The nickname almost knocks me off my feet. “Then take me.” I say just above a whisper. But he’s heard me. His control shatters immediately. His mouth crashes against mine- hungry, desperate, like he’s been starving for this. His hands work my clothes with practiced efficiency, peeling away barriers until skin meets skin. “Say it again.” He tells me. His voice is wrecked, barely recognizable. He lifts me onto the bed. Positioning himself between my thighs. His forehead presses to mine, breath ragged against my lips. His hand slides up my inner thigh- possessive, claiming. Every touch deliberate, worshipful. His other hand tangles in my hair, tilting my head back so he can watch every reaction play across my face. “Tell me you’re mine, Ash.” He pauses at my entrance, trembling with restraint. His jaw clenches again, that muscle jumping again- waiting for permission he needs more than air. “Say you love me.” It’s a command that sounds more like begging. “I need to hear it when I’m inside you.” “I love you Adam Blackthorne, I’m yours…forever.” The words break him completely. He surges forward, burying himself deep with a groan that tears from his chest. His fingers dig into my hips- anchoring, claiming- as he stills letting me adjust. “Forever.” He repeats it like a prayer, voice shattered. His forehead drops to mine, breath coming in harsh pants. When he moves, it’s slow-deliberate- each thrust punctuated by whispered words against your skin. “Mine. My Ash.” There it is that nickname again. And I almost come undone. His hands slide up my spine, cradling the back of my head as he picks up the pace. The bed creaks beneath me, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His mouth finds mine- desperate, consuming. His rhythm falters, control slipping. His thumb finds that sensitive spot between our bodies, circling with devastating precision. “Come for me, baby.” His voice cracks on the endearment. “I want to feel you fall apart.” “Oh God, yes Adam.” The plea slips from my mouth before I can stop it. But my words ignite something primal in him. His movements become urgent, powerful- the headboard creaking with every thrust as he drives deeper. His hand tightens in my hair, the other gripping your hip hard enough to leave fingerprints. “That’s it Ash.” His voice is pure gravel, wrecked and desperate. He watches me with an intensity that strips me bare- cataloguing every gasp, every tremor. His thumb circles faster, relentless. He feels me tighten around him & it destroys the last of his composure. His rhythm turns erratic, chasing release with single-minded focus. “Come with me.” It’s barely coherent- half commanding, half plea. His head drops to my shoulder teeth grazing as his body goes tense. I come completely undone & shatter. He follows- my name a broken prayer on his lips. His arms wrap around you completely, holding you through the aftershocks like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. Minutes pass. His breath steadies against my neck. “I meant every word.” He tells me. “Me too.” I reply. “So much it scares me.” His arms tighten around me- protective, possessive. He pulls back enough to look at you, and there’s something achingly vulnerable in his eyes. His hand cups my face, thumb tracing my cheekbone. “Good.” He says.