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Stooping down, I suck one of her nipples into my mouth, tracing the marks that still linger on her chest from the last time I was here.

"Bexley," she cries out, and my chest swells. Not once did she cry his name last night.

"Again. Say it again," I demand as I switch to the other side.

"Bexley." Her fingers thread into my hair and she scratches at my scalp.

It feels so fucking good.

Wrapping my hands around the back of her thighs, I flip her back onto the bed and quickly rid her of her leggings and panties until she's laid out beneath me in nothing but her Electi crest.

I want to demand she takes it off—or better, rip it from her like I did last time—but part of me needs the reminder that this isn't how our future looks.

She's his, no matter what I take from her.

Reaching out, I take it between my fingers and her eyes widen in horror.

"N-no. Not again," she begs.

My nostrils flare with anger that she wants that piece of him.

Releasing the pendant, my fingers wrap around her throat. "I'm taking what's his, Mia. I don't give a shit about the consequences.”

She swallows nervously, but after two seconds she nods. "I… I don't want to give it to him."

My heart swells to the point I fear it might just explode in my chest. "You shouldn't be giving it to me. I'm not a good person either."

"I know, but you're a saint compared to him."

Silence falls over her room as we stare at each other. The magnitude of this moment weighs down on both of us, but like fuck is it going to stop me.

Releasing her, I reach behind my head. I pull my shirt off in one move and drop it over the side of the bed before I lower my hands to my waistband and quickly shed my jeans and boxers.

Her eyes zero in on my hard cock, and she props herself up on her elbows so she can get a proper look at me.

The bruises from last weekend are still there, but they're beginning to fade now.

She watches, fascinated as I wrap my hand around my length and begin to stroke it slowly.

"Bex?" she breathes.

With my eyes locked on hers, I crawl on my knees between her legs and rub the tip of my cock against her pussy. She's so slick already, and the temptation to thrust straight into her is almost too much to deny.

Falling over her, I plant one hand on the mattress beside her head and lower my lips to hers.

"Let's get one thing clear," I growl. "I don't give a fuck about what's hanging around your neck. You don't belong to anyone other than me. You got that?"

She swallows nervously but nods.

"He can torture me, hurt me, drug me. Whatever he fucking wants. But I'm not giving you up, little mouse. You. Are. Mine."

I thrust forward on my final word, and she cries out in agony.

Slamming my lips down on hers, I swallow down her pain, wishing I could take it away and make it my own.

I kiss her like I'll die without it as I force my body to remain still.

Long minutes pass by as we devour each other before she pulls back and looks at me in horror.

"C-condom?"

"I'm clean. I haven’t been with anyone in…" A really fucking long time. "Are you on—"

She nods. "Yeah."

I roll my hips, and her eyes shutter and her teeth grind. "It'll fade, I promise."

She reaches up and wraps her hand around the back of my neck, forcing me to close the space between us. "I don't care if it doesn't. Fuck me, Bexley. Make me remember it. Make me remember you."

"Jesus, fuck."

I claim her lips once again and give her what she's asked for.

Fuck Kingsley.

Fuck the Electi and Quinctus and all their stupid rules and traditions. Nothing is more important than this right now.

"Oh God," she cries when I slip my hand between us and pinch her clit, making her pussy contract around me.

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight, little mouse."

"Bexley," she whispers as I do it again, thrusting deep inside her and circling my hips.

Her body is covered in a sheen of sweat, her breasts marred in fresh bite marks, and her hair is a matted mess around her shoulders.

I sit up and drag her with me until we're chest to chest and her legs are wrapped around my waist. Sinking deeper into her, my eyes roll back in my head in pleasure.

In this moment, she's the only thing that exists. Exactly how it should be.

"You're mine, Mia. Nothing he does will change that."

"But he's—"

"No," I snap. "Just… no. This is us. Me and you." I thrust my hips and she cries out, slamming her lips down on mine as I bring us both to the edge.

"Come for me, little mouse. Show me you’re mine." I pinch her clit and circle my hips, and she explodes around me.

"Oh my God, Bexley."

She squeezes me so fucking tight that I have no choice but to follow her over the edge, my cock jerking and spurting jets of hot cum inside her.

Mine.

Fucking mine.

Still inside her, we fall to the bed in a tangle of limbs, our bodies spent and our chests heaving.

Contentment fills me as I hold her tighter, but after two minutes of blissful silence with her, she opens her mouth and ruins everything.

"What the fuck did we just do?"

22

Mia

Bexley flinches at my words, and I immediately regret them. But this isn’t a stolen kiss and a few concealable love bites.

This is so much more.

“That came out wrong,” I add quickly, turning into his warm body. I want to lean in and run my nose across his chest, but he’s still rigid, anger rolling off him in thick waves.

“Bexley,” I say, testing the waters and laying my hand on his stomach. He doesn’t reply, and I peer up at him through my lashes. “Look at me, please.”

Finally, he gives me his eyes and I see the hurt there. “You

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