“Yeah, I’m fine.” She squeaked as Cullen slid his big hands up her legs.

He leaned down and bit the lobe of her ear, sending a sharp spike of lust through her at the pleasure-pain. “You’re more than fine,” he growled. “Why don’t you tell him you’re about to get fucked hard and deep by me. Again.”

She moaned. Her body reacted on a primitive level—sex tingling, breasts growing heavy with need.

“Huntley? Are you okay?” Greg asked worriedly as Cullen’s breath fanned hotly in her ear. A rush of moisture soaked her panties.

“Y-yes,” she choked. “I have to g-go.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before Cullen plucked the phone from her hand and tossed it aside.

His deep voice purred near her face. “No sense in stringing him along. You’re not going out with him again.”

She opened her mouth … to say what, she wasn’t certain. She didn’t want to go out with Greg. That was true.

His chest lifted on a ragged breath. “Right now you’re mine.”

How dare he act so high-handed? A roaring rush filled her ears. She didn’t think. Just reacted. She lashed out, punching him in the chest. Not a flicker of pain crossed his face. He didn’t even flinch.

He bent over her, his voice lethal. “Hit me if it makes you feel better. I can take it.” His dark eyes glinted and she knew he meant it. Maybe it even got him off a little.

Inhaling, she told herself anger at this situation was her most dominant emotion, but she knew that was a lie. Hunger stirred within her.

She moaned his name as he slid off her leggings in one move and flipped her over on the couch.

His broad hand smoothed over the rounded swell of her ass. “Not his. You got that?” His hand came down on her with a smack. She jolted at the contact, moaning low in her throat as a bolt of heat shot straight between her legs. She dipped her spine and arched her bottom higher in the air, asking for more, wishing her panties were gone, her anger from moments ago melting into air.

She trembled on all fours as he ran a hand up her thigh and slid it over her stinging cheek, giving her a hard squeeze before knuckling aside her underwear. With the same hand he cupped her sex, massaging it until all ability to speak fled her.

“This is mine,” he growled.

Her head swam. They had just established this was merely sex between them. This is mine. He didn’t mean it. It was just one of those things people said during sex. Passionate words blurted out during the throes. Sullen Cullen never stuck with any single female.

The ability to think vanished as he slid a finger inside her. She bowed her spine, thrusting her bottom in the air, drawing him in deeper.

His lips landed on her bared cheek, kissing her where he had spanked her. “Say it.” His voice rumbled against her, vibrating from somewhere deep in his chest.

“I’m not saying that.”

He bit down, his teeth sharp and punishing on her tender skin. She cried out and to her utter bewilderment, moisture rushed between her legs, edging her toward orgasm.

He slowed the pumping action of his finger between her legs, his mouth talking against the skin he just bit. “Your body says it loud and clear. You just got real wet for me, sweetheart.” His mouth traveled up to the small of her back, tender kisses dragging over her goose-puckered flesh. “Say it,” he commanded.

The tenderness got to her. She panted heavy breaths into the couch cushion, thrusting her bottom up at him, urging his finger to continue its assault. “I’m yours.”

His thumb pressed down hard on her clit in reward and she flew apart, coming in a muffled shriek, arms clutching the couch cushion, her fingers digging into the fabric. Her knees trembled, threatening to give out.

Cullen slipped his finger free. “There you go, sweetheart.” She heard the faint sing of his zipper over the crashing of her breath. He grabbed her hips in both hands, hoisting her up. “Grab the back of the couch,” he commanded.

She folded her fingers over the hard edge, still fuzzy-headed from her orgasm.

A hissing breath escaped her as she felt the plump head of his cock at her opening. He dragged the tip up and down her crease, grazing it over her sensitive clit.

“Oh, God,” she moaned.

He pushed in, just the head of him. “You feel that, sweetheart?”

She nodded and sounds passed her lips that might have resembled speech but sounded like something an animal would make.

He pushed in a little deeper and she whimpered. The walls of her channel stretched, fighting to accommodate him.

“You won’t forget me. No one is ever going to touch you like this. No one will make you come like I can. No ex-boyfriend. No other man.”

A sob welled up in her chest. He was already assuming she was gone. He was okay with that.

He didn’t give her time to adjust or catch her breath. He thrust deep, filling her. Seizing her hips, he hammered into her, leaning low, covering her back with his chest. His big hands slid beneath her tunic top, cupping her breasts as he worked in and out of her. His agile fingers tugged the lacy cups of her bra down until her breasts bobbed above the bunched fabric. He fondled the heavy, aching flesh, his fingers playing over her nipples until they pebbled hard.

She started pushing back against him, meeting the thrust of his cock, slamming her ass against him, wanting to punish him for talking to her like she was gone. He growled, his fingers pinching harder on her nipples, snapping some invisible cord that held her together. Sensation swelled through her, starting at her sex and rolling out all the way to her toes.

He chuckled, low and deep, the sound rasping against her nape. “That’s right.” He slipped a hand between them, rolling the tender nub of her clit. “Who owns this?”

She shrieked, convulsing against him, hating and reveling in his utter arrogance. As her orgasm ebbed and faded, she let go of the couch and squeezed out from under him, fully aware that he had yet to reach his climax.

“Huntley, what—”

She turned and pushed him back down on the couch, her palms flat on his chest as she straddled him, wrapping a fist around him and guiding him back inside her. She sank down on him, a huff of breath escaping her at feeling him like this. Impaled upon him. She had never felt a man so deep and hard. Not that she had a wealth of experience to draw from, but it was almost like he was reaching up into her heart. Truly a part of her. If this was to be their last time, then she intended for him to remember her.

His hands dropped to her waist. He gripped her, ready to move her up and down, but she wasn’t having it. She seized his wrists and pushed them up by his head. She locked gazes with him and held herself still over him.

“What are you doing, Huntley?”

“It’s my turn.”

Heat flared in his eyes. “Then start moving.”

She shook her head at him. “You’ve had your way. It’s my turn to do this my way.”

“Your turn? You’ve gotten off twice. I’d say it’s my turn now.”

Bending her head, she bit him on his pec. He made a short sound, part growl, part moan, as her inner muscles tightened around him.

“Feel that?” she asked, loosening her fingers around his wrists.

His hands came down and smoothed over the rounded swells of her ass. “Yeah.” He croaked, his fingers digging and flexing on her in a way that made her ache and clench around him again.

She framed his face with her hands and kissed him slow and deep, her tongue tasting, stoking the kiss until it became something hot and wild between them.

Her sex continued to pulse and squeeze around his cock as the kiss grew feverish and intense. He tried to move his hips and she broke the kiss, pushing a hand down hard on his chest, pinning him to the couch. “You don’t move,” she reprimanded.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “I have to move.”