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His jaw clenches and I can tell how much he’s aroused now, because his nostrils flare and the possessiveness washes over me in waves. It is why I say things like that; I know they make him shed his control and turn into the powerful dominant who’s able to tear my world to pieces.

And then he curses and I get wetter at the thought that he wants me so much, he can not contain it. Other men sound coarse when they curse, he sounds hotter than sin.

“What’s mine?” His voice is thicker, deeper.

“My pussy. It is yours.”

“Fuck.”

“Yes, please fuck me.”

He closes his eyes, and even though his jaw is in a rigid line, I think he’s trying to conjure some form of patience, but when he opens them, he is not calm. On the contrary, his eyes are nearly black with all the shadows crowding his masculine face.

“What did you just say, baby girl?”

“Fuck me.” It is barely a murmur now, a bit unsure since he’s pressing hard on both my nipples and my clit, playing with the tight tips, teasing and rolling them b