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She called his name but he ignored her and continued walking, his steps loud and angry, breaking the tranquility of the underground parking lot.

"Oh, come on," she continued. "I know you heard me."

He scoffed. He'd heard her alright.

"You're ignoring me," she insisted, still a few steps behind. She picked up pace to catch up as his silver G-wagon came into view. She wasn't going to let him slip away, not when he was this mad at her.

He was a possessive, territorial man, she'd always known. She'd never seen it in action, and she was always curious to find out about that side of him. But now that it was laid in front of her, she hadn't a clue how to fix it.

He sighed and suddenly came to a halt. His shoulders sagged and he shook his head.

"They were all over you," he accused. "And you let them."

Finally catching up, she wrapped her arms around his waist and laying her head on his shoulder, she sighed his name.

"Please," she pleaded again. "You know I'm only yours."


He unclasped her hands that were clutched tight around his torso and turned to face her. She had a look of sadness on her face, of worry, and she was as beautiful as ever. His right hand ran up her arm, to her shoulder then settled flat on her collarbone. She leaned towards him, allowing his fingers to wrap around her throat. He brought her face closer to his.

"Mine," he whispered, his breath caressing her face.

She hummed and he tightened his grip around her neck. In a swift and sudden move, he pulled her to him, before flipping them and pushing her towards the side of his truck. Her back landed hard on the cold metal and his mouth landed just as hard on hers. His kiss was demanding, testifying of how angry he still was.

"This mouth of yours is mine," he growled when they parted for some air, surprising her. His right hand left her neck and ran to the side of her face harshly before he dug his fingers in the base of her skull. She gasped, not used to this side of him. He's always been very romantic with her, always very gentle, as if she was the most delicate thing in the world. Yet here he was now, tugging and pulling, pushing and biting, a side of him she'd never seen.

And she loved every second of it.

She barely had a second to gather her thoughts that he'd already captured her lips between his, his teeth playing at her lower lip, nibbling it almost to the blood. His left hand was on her hip, holding her still against the car, and his right one had left her face, sliding to her breasts. He grabbed a handful of her left boob, his nails digging into her skin through the thin fabric of her dress. Her nipples were hard already and his mouth left hers to follow his hand.

"Your nipples were piercing through your dress all evening," he reprimanded her before biting down, hard. She suppressed a cry.

"Serves you right," he mocked against her skin before kissing the spot that he had bit.

His right hand continued its journey on her body, now sliding down on her stomach, going further and further south, until he reached the top of the slit in her dress. His touch was gentle this time and he had straightened back up, his face only an inch from hers.

"And now, most importantly...."

He very slowly traced circles on her upper thigh, his touch light, sending waves of anticipation through her body. Each circle was moving further and further towards her center, and her impatience was starting to get the best of her.

"Most importantly?" She questioned, her breath short.

He caressed her cheek with his and smiled against her soft skin, his body pressed tight against hers.

"Most importantly, this is mine."

His hand had slammed hard against her pussy, cupping her through her lacy underwear. She was dripping wet, sloppy.

"Spread your legs," he ordered and she obeyed.

"We're in a public ...," she started but he cut her off by slapping her pussy.

"I never said you could talk." He slapped her again, sending a shock of pleasure through her body. She whimpered, her knees weak. She loved what he was doing to her.

Gently this time, he ran a finger on her slit through the fabric of her panties.

"You better only get this wet for me," he threatened, repeating the motion again and again. His nail would slightly scratch at her clit every time he would run it over, making her more and more wet.

She nodded, unable to speak.


He slapped her again and she whimpered out loud this time, making him smile. His cock was hard against her leg, throbbing. She made a move for it but as her hand ran over his crotch, he hissed and pushed her away.

"You don't get to touch me," he growled, grabbing her wrist roughly. He pushed her arm over her hand and held it there, pressing his body against her again. "I will be the one doing the touching."

His hand found its place between her legs again and he pushed her panties to the side.

"My, my..." he whispered approvingly as he started rubbing her clit. He was driving her insane, he could tell. She was breathing heavy, her chest rising and descending intensely, her head thrown back as far as the car she was pressed against would let her. His middle finger slipped inside of her, then his index finger followed, gently stretching her. His fingers were dexterous, expertly sliding in and out of her, making a mess between her thighs. She sighed and he let his thumb graze her clit, making her breath catch in her throat.

Fuck. She was beautiful and it was getting harder and harder for him to control himself. His rob was beyond hard, throbbing, almost painful. He niched his face in the soft spot between her neck and her shoulder, inhaling her perfume. His body pressed against hers, he continued his torture with one hand, the other automatically flying down to his crotch. He sighed in satisfaction when his fingers tightened around his own boner, roughly caressing it through the fabric of his pants, the muscles in his thighs trembling at the contact.

"Please," she begged. But he wasn't going to fuck her.

Feeding his palm into his pants, he pulled out his hard cock. She reached out for it, earnest but he pushed his hand away once more.

"Didn't I say you didn't get to touch me?"

She whimpered as his fingers slid out of her. She instantly felt cold and needy, but the feeling didn't last long as she felt him push his hips against hers, his straight rod slipping against her wet opening.

"Oh god," she moaned. His hips slipping back and forth, he kept on rubbing his cock against her pussy, both satisfying and frustrating. She was a mess, between her thighs wetter than it has ever been, and she crossed her leg, increasing the pressure on both her clit and his cock. His hand flew to her neck in response and he groaned, shoving his face in the crook of her neck once more, kissing and biting at her sensitive, heated skin. He was picking up pace, bringing himself and her closer and closer to apogee. He felt her teeth close on the lobe of his ear, her fingers running through his hair. Her hips were pushing back against his, and she contracted her thighs as she was coming against him, her own hand slapped against her mouth as she smothered her own moan. Following close, his cock twitched and he bit down on her shoulder as he spilled between her thighs.

Only she could do this to him.

"Don't clean yourself up," he ordered, his forehead still resting on her shoulder, "and get in the car. Let this be a reminder of who you belong to."

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