“Tell me what you want,” he said in a gruff, demanding voice.

“You,” she choked out. “All of you. Please, Tate. I need you.”


He rewarded her with a forceful thrust that seated him to the very hilt. His hips pressed against the insides of her thighs and he held himself there a long moment as his groan of pleasure mingled with her sigh.

“God, Chessy,” he said in a strangled voice. “You feel so damn good.”

She made a humming sound deep in her throat. It was all she could muster. Words escaped her as indescribable pleasure rocked over her body. Her fingers curled into tight fists, held firmly by the rope securing her to the bedpost.

Slowly, he withdrew, the walls of her vagina protesting, trying to suck him back in like a greedy fist. Then he slammed forward again, forcing her feet from the floor where they were planted. She gasped at the fullness of his possession. So deep. He was hard as stone, stretching her pu**y to its maximum width.

His fingers curled around her hips, lifting her to meet his thrusts. She closed her eyes, completely giving herself over to the ecstasy shuddering through her body. He knew exactly how to please her, how to torment her with delicious, edgy pleasure. Knew just how close to bring her to the edge before pulling her back only for her orgasm to rebuild, bigger and more cataclysmic.

How he managed to last as long as he did was a mystery to her. She could feel just how close he was to hurtling over the cliff. His fingers tightened in her flesh, his thrusts became more frantic but yet he’d slow, pulling them both back.

Her need had become desperate. She was nearly sobbing at the overwhelming pressure, the promise of something utterly beautiful and all consuming.

“Say my name,” he said hoarsely.

“Tate!” she cried.

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“Who owns you, Chessy? Who do you belong to?”

“You,” she sobbed. “Only you, Tate.”

“Then come for me.”

He thrust hard, forcefully, harder than before, purposely driving her to the brink of insanity. She was mindless, writhing against the bonds that held her tight. She turned her face into the mattress, screaming as her orgasm welled and burst like a cascade of fireworks.

He began coming, flooding her with his release. His se**n made his thrusts smoother and easier. Impossibly, he drove even deeper, her body opening and welcoming him like a long-lost lover. And in essence he was. This was their renewal. A reunion of souls.

He strained against her, his hips pumping hard and fast while the rest of his body remained solidly glued to hers. His hands left her hips and slid up her spine, soothing her in the aftermath of her explosive orgasm. And then he lowered his body, his c**k pulsing deeply in her vagina.

He blanketed her with his warmth and strength. She could feel his heartbeat, fast and furious, against the small of her back. And then his cheek lowered, lying against her skin. Trapped between him and the mattress, her own heart raced.

Turning his face, brushing against her hypersensitive flesh, he pressed his lips to her spine.

“You’re my girl, Chessy. Never doubt that,” he whispered, the words wrapping around her heart, squeezing with love and renewed hope.

They were back!

“Give me the words, baby.”

“I’m your girl,” she said dutifully.

“And who does my girl love?”

“You,” she said. “Only you.”

“Who owns you?” he growled.

He pushed further into her, his c**k still turgid inside her even after his release. Her body shuddered, chill bumps prickling across her skin.

“You do,” she whispered.

“Who loves you?” he asked in a softer voice.

Her heart surged to overflowing. Tears pricked her eyelids and she closed her eyes briefly to hold them at bay.

“You do.”

“Who knows you’re his world? The one who’s gifted with your submission?”

“You, Tate. Only you.”

He kissed her skin again, a soft benediction as his words whispered over her flesh.

“I love you, Chessy. Only you. Remember you’re my girl.”

“I love you too, Tate.”

She had to stop because tears were running freely down her face, wetting the mattress her cheek rested on.


The concern in his voice made her scrub her tear-stained face into the mattress. She didn’t want to fall apart now of all times.

He withdrew carefully, mindful not to hurt her. Then he immediately untied her hands, tossing aside the rope.

“Chessy?” he asked again as he climbed onto the bed beside her. “Talk to me, baby. What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

He pulled her into his arms, positioning her on her side, and used his arm to pillow her head. Then he slid his hand over her damp cheek, wiping away the tears. He leaned over, kissing away every bit of moisture from her face before cupping her jaw and tilting her chin upward so she met his gaze.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

The concern in his eyes was nearly her undoing and damn it but the tears started all over again. She gave a quiet hiccup, the strain of trying to keep her emotions at bay making her chest ache.

It was as if a dam had suddenly burst and tears ran like a river as she stared back at her husband. They were back. It was as if the last two years had been erased and all that mattered was here and now. Her in his arms. Him taking back control.

“Chessy, you’re starting to scare me. What the hell is going on? Talk to me.”