[That brand; she knows it intimately, the feel of it, the press of it against her hand and against her mouth. She spreads her hand over his chest and her fingers slide over the brand.
He's hers now. Hers, without a doubt. She doesn't need anything so primitive to prove it. It's in the way he looks at her, or the way that he talks - or doesn't - about her. It's in a loyalty that she knows in the core of her.
She gasps and curls up tight against him, pressing her face against his throat as her vision whites out and all that's left is the smell of his clean skin and his come and his arousal, all at once. She stays there, her cunt tightening around him, milking his cock as much as she can, until she's feeling boneless and sated.]
no subject
He's hers now. Hers, without a doubt. She doesn't need anything so primitive to prove it. It's in the way he looks at her, or the way that he talks - or doesn't - about her. It's in a loyalty that she knows in the core of her.
She gasps and curls up tight against him, pressing her face against his throat as her vision whites out and all that's left is the smell of his clean skin and his come and his arousal, all at once. She stays there, her cunt tightening around him, milking his cock as much as she can, until she's feeling boneless and sated.]
Don't let go yet.