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230 pages, Kindle Edition
Published December 4, 2025
My gaze catches on the mark I left in the crook of his neck, and he sucks in a breath when he feels the tips of my fingers brushing it lightly. “Now you’re mine, too,” I whisper hoarsely, the hope bleeding through my words impossible to hide. A warm palm cradles my cheek as I meet Ethan’s smiling eyes. “I always have been.”
“Make me yours, Ethan.”[…]
“You’ve been mine since the beginning, Ollie”.
“I need to feel you, Ethan,” I whisper raggedly, brushing my lips against his. “I want to feel nothing but you.”
A sound that speaks of ache and longing rips out of him as he bridges the final inch separating us and takes my mouth.
The kiss is soft, and hard, and endless. It’s soft pulls on my lips that make me boneless, and hard, claiming licks and strokes that scream of desperation.
But above all, it’s endless, bottomless need. Deep and beautifully painful because it’s a pain that feels impossible to live without.
A pain that steals my breath. That breaks me apart and puts me together.
A pain that feels like aching hope and happiness.
That feels like love.”
“And I love what you do to me.”
A growl rumbles in my chest, fire in my veins.
“That’s good, sweetheart, ’cause this is it for you. You belong to me just like you own my fucking soul. Every inch of you […] is mine. And when you’re ready, I’ll put my mark on you and you’ll put yours on me, mate. Because that’s what you are to me.” I kiss his bottom lip, drowning in his wide green eyes. “My mate. My love. Mine.”
He tightens around me […], so close I can taste it.
“Yes, say it again. Say it again, Ethan,” he begs, riding my thrusts […].
“My mate. My beautiful, sweet, sexy as fuck mate,” I grunt, fisting his hair, watching him fall apart for me.
“God, yes, yes, yes,” he chants, coming hard around me […], “Yours, yours, only yours.”
“Fuck,” I shudder, his body pulling the orgasm out of me. “You were made for me, Ollie. You were fucking made for me.”
“Do you want me to go deeper, baby?” I grunt, as my body floods with pure fire when my cockhead rubs the soft mouth of his womb. “Do you want me to fuck your little womb and pump you full of me? Breed you like you belong to me?”
“Look at us, baby,” he rasps out with a deadly smile, his eyes briefly dipping to where we are joined. “Look how well you take me, how open you are for me. Like you were made for me. Like you were made to be fucking mine. Isn’t that right?” “Yes,” I moan long and loud. “That’s right,” he growls and his thrusts turn savage, brutal, hitting my aching spot over and over until I think I’m going to lose all reason. “You’re mine, Oliver. Mine to fuck, mine to knot and breed, mine to touch and take care of. Now scream it for me.”
“You make me burn, Ethan. Your touch, your words, everything about you makes me burn,” he confesses quietly but with a firmness that startles me. Like he wants what he’s saying to be taken seriously, like what he’s saying is important to him and he needs me to hear it. His fingers travel up and up, until they run over my rough, stubbled cheek. “And I never want it to stop,”
“Why do you hate my clothes so much?” I know why he does. I just like to hear him say it. “Because you should be wearing mine.”