His c**k was like a pillar of granite and his heart beat so hard he could feel it pounding in his forehead, but he’d sent her a message about who was in charge. Gloating, Horse pulled his hand out of her pants and stepped back. She thrust her hips at him and he ended the kiss, dropping his lips to her neck, licking and sucking, wanting to mark her for everyone to see. He took her mouth one more time, punishing her with his tongue and his fingers, dancing right on the edge. He felt how close she was to release, the flesh between her legs tightening. ”Yes,” Marie whispered, shivering as her eyes dilated. I’ll f**k you when and where I want, and you can either take it or get the f**k out. “This pu**y,” Horse said, fingering her roughly. He pulled back, wanting to see her face, watching as her breath came faster and she flushed with desire and need. She moaned, collapsing against him, and he slid his other hand down her stomach to her pants, ripping them open. He covered it with his mouth, thrusting his tongue into her mouth like he wanted to thrust his c**k down into her cunt-hard and fast, without mercy. Horse let go of her hip, reaching up to grab that hair and twisting her head around to the side. He’d offered her everything he had and she’d thrown it back in his face. Hell, he’d even gone to the mat to save her worthless brother from the club. How much more of this did he have to take? She belonged to him now, he’d paid fifty f**king thousand dollars for her. That pissed him off, spinning him out of control. “I have ten minutes left,” she said, her voice full of strain.

He wondered what it would feel like trailing across his chest or wrapped around his cock.

“I love how your hair smells,” he muttered. Horse rubbed his c**k against her butt, so aroused it caused him physical pain. He got up and stood behind her, taking her hips and pulling them back into his. Horse wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this. Her figure was the ideal combination of small and curvy, every part adding up to perfection. Every time she reached up, he caught flashes of her tiny little waist, swelling down into hips built to cradle his.

He dropped the picture, disgusted, watching as she moved to her dresser. “I don’t want to forget, at least not yet.” “You keeping this?” he asked, looking at the picture.

Reaper's Property by Joanna Wylde