“Yes, I’m yours, Rowan,” I moan. “You’ve always been mine, haven’t you?” “Oh my god, yes,” I agree, face in his neck as his thrusts become harder, deeper, more consuming. He’s grunting now with each movement, and each time he bottoms out, I tighten. “And I’ve always been yours,” he says through gritted teeth, like he needs to get this out before he lets it take over him.
