In Between Her Legs.

Chapter Eleven: Break Me

The air in Damien’s penthouse is thick with s*x.

I can still feel the heat of his release on my skin, the heavy scent of him wrapping around me like invisible chains, binding me to him in ways I can’t explain.

I should be spent.

Should be satisfied.

But I’m not.

Not even close.

Because Damien Sinclair isn’t a man who stops when his own needs are met.

He stops when he decides I’ve had enough.

And judging by the way he’s watching me now his shirt completely unbuttoned, his c**k still hard, veins bulging, glistening from my mouth and his release he’s nowhere near done.

"On the bed," he commands, his voice deep, rough.

My legs are weak as I climb onto the massive mattress, my body still thrumming, still wrecked from what he just did to me.

"Face down."

I shiver at the raw dominance in his tone, obeying without hesitation.

The sheets are cool against my skin, but it does nothing to stop the heat burning through me.

The bed shifts behind me, the air charged with his presence as his large hands skim over my ass, squeezing, testing.

Then

A loud crack.

The sharp sting of his palm landing on my bare skin makes me yelp, my fingers gripping the sheets.

"You’re so f*****g beautiful like this," he growls, rubbing the heat he just left behind, soothing before striking again.

Another slap.

Another gasp.

My p***y clenches, slick and dripping, my body betraying just how much I love being handled like this.

He spreads me open, his fingers sliding between my soaked folds, teasing my entrance.

"You’re already so f*****g wet for me," he murmurs. "You know what that tells me?"

I shake my head, my breath uneven.

His fingers dip inside, curling just right, making my entire body jolt.

"It tells me you were made for this," he whispers darkly. "Made for me to use. To ruin. To f**k until you can’t remember your own name."

A sob of pure pleasure rips from my throat.

"Please," I pant.

His fingers slide out, leaving me empty.

Then I feel him shift his broad chest covering my back, his lips brushing my ear.

"You’re going to give me everything tonight, baby," he murmurs, the thick head of his c**k pressing against my entrance, teasing.

I moan, pressing back against him, desperate. "Please."

"Please what?" His voice is a wicked tease.

I whimper. "Please f**k me."

The second the words leave my mouth, he snaps.

He thrusts inside me with one deep, punishing stroke, stretching me wide, filling me completely.

I scream.

"That’s it," he growls, his fingers digging into my hips as he pulls out only to slam back in, harder, deeper. "Take me, baby. Let me hear you."

The pleasure is overwhelming. His c**k is too big, his thrusts too deep, his body owning mine in every way possible.

And I f*****g love it.

My eyes roll back, my mouth falling open in a silent scream as he pounds into me, every stroke pushing me closer to insanity.

The wet slap of our bodies fills the room, along with the filthy moans spilling from my lips.

"You feel how deep I am?" he pants, his breath ragged as he f***s me without mercy.

"Y-yes!" My voice is hoarse, my fingers clawing at the sheets.

"You’re squeezing me so f*****g tight," he groans. "Like this perfect little p***y was made to take my cock."

I can’t speak.

Can’t think.

All I can do is feel his c**k stretching me, his hands controlling me, his voice pulling me deeper into the abyss of pleasure.

Then his fingers find my c**t.

And I lose it.

A scream rips from my throat as the orgasm explodes through me, my p***y clenching hard around his thick length.

"f**k," he snarls. "You’re f*****g squirting for me, baby. So messy. So f*****g perfect."

I don’t even realize I’m crying until he flips me onto my back, his movements rough, desperate.

I barely get a breath before he’s inside me again, deeper, his weight pressing me into the mattress.

My legs wrap around him, my nails dragging down his back, my mouth forming his name over and over.

"That’s it," he growls, f*****g into me like he’s possessed. "Say it."

"f**k me, Damien!"

His entire body shudders.

"Good girl," he breathes, his thrusts growing erratic. "Mine."

I nod, my vision blurring, my body shattering under him.

Then he snaps.

His c**k pulses, thick ropes of heat filling me as he growls my name, his entire body trembling against mine.

The world tilts.

I’m floating.

Weightless.

Completely and utterly ruined.

He collapses on top of me, his breath ragged against my neck.

I should be afraid.

Of how deep I’ve fallen. Of how much of me he’s taken.

But all I feel is safe.

Because Damien Sinclair owns me now.

And I never want to be free.