Page 92 of Pawn

“You asked me to prove it. Is this proof enough for you?” he asks, his voice a dark chuckle as he tugs his belt free from his pants. The leather brushes against my ass cheek, and I shiver. “You’re lucky I don’t use this on you.”

I wiggle my ass, trying to entice him, but his grip is iron. His cock brushes against my cheek, and I freeze, my breath catching.

The cool air hits my bare skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his body behind me. His cock brushes between my legs, over my pussy, and I shudder, my body already aching for him again.

“Beg me to fuck you, Liana,” he murmurs, his tip sliding against my folds. “Beg for it.”

I shake my head, my voice muffled against the pillows. “No way. I will never beg.”

His response is to thrust into me, so hard, so deep that I can’t speak. The sudden fullness steals my breath, my body stretching to take him in. He groans, his hands tightening on my hips as he pulls back and slams into me again.

“You are mine,” he growls, his voice rough with need. “Say it.”

I can’t. Not yet. But my body betrays me, my hips rocking back against him, meeting each of his thrusts. He’s so deep, hitting that spot inside me that makes my toes curl, and I moan, my fingers knotting in the sheets.

He chuckles darkly, his hips snapping against mine, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room.

I cry out, my body trembling as he fucks me harder, faster. My pussy clenches around him, my walls fluttering as another orgasm builds, even more intense than the last. I feel it coil tight in my stomach, my legs shaking as I hold myself up.

“Guido—” His name is a plea, a surrender.

“That’s it,” he growls. “Let go.”

And I do. My orgasm rips through me, my body convulsing around his cock, my pussy pulsing as I come harder than I ever have before. He doesn’t stop, his thrusts becoming erratic, his breath ragged as he chases his own release.

“Fuck, Liana—” His voice is strained, his body tensing as he drives into me one final time, his cock buried deep as he comes with a groan, his release filling me, marking me as his.

We collapse onto the bed, our bodies tangled together, our breath coming in ragged gasps. He pulls me against him, his arms wrapping around me, his lips pressing against my shoulder.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs, his voice soft now, the edge of command gone, replaced by something tender, something real.

I smile, my body still trembling from the aftermath of our passion. “And you’re mine.”

He chuckles, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin. “Always.”

I turn in his arms and press a soft kiss to his lips. “Prove it again.”

My legs tangled in his. The sheets twisted around us like wreckage — evidence of two people who stopped performing and started choosing, and the choosing demolished every piece of furniture in the room that wasn’t bolted to the floor.

My hand rests on his chest. His heartbeat beneath my palm. Fast. Slowing. The rhythm of a man whose body just said everything his restraint spent twenty-six years holding back.

For the first time in my life, I am in a room where I do not need to read the walls.

Because there are none.

The Shadow King’s Voice

My phone buzzes against the nightstand.

I almost miss it. My body is still humming — the low, electric aftershock of a woman who just fucked a man with her eyes open and her name in his mouth and every wall she ever built in a pile of rubble on the floor. Guido’s arm is across my waist. His breath warm against the back of my neck. His heartbeat slowing against my spine — the rhythm of a man whose body just abandoned the margin for the first time in his life and has not yet figured out how to pull it back on.

I do not want to move.

The wanting is new. Every time before — the backseat, the apartment, the counter where my spine hit granite and his mouth hit my throat, and the fury burned so hot I could taste smoke — every time before, the after carried urgency. Get dressed. Get out. Recalibrate the frequency. Rebuild the walls. Check the exits. Return to the architecture of a woman who fucks in the dark and puts her armor back on before the sweat dries.

I do not want to move. I want to lie here with my back against his chest, his arm heavy across my waist, and the unlocked door three feet from the bed proving this room has no cage in it.

The phone buzzes again.