Your arms wrap around my waist and I lean against you, feeling the safety of your hard warm chest against my back.

You whisper into my ear, “I’ve missed you.”

“And I you,” I say, turning and snaking my hands around your neck.

“Did you have a good day?”

“Mmm,” I mumble, inhaling your scent, your wonderful intoxicating scent. Here, in your embrace, I feel secure, protected, at home.

I lean closer, breathing in deeply as you pull me closer, filling your nostrils with my fragrance. I feel the tension of a day’s hard work draining out of you, your muscles relaxing. This is how it is with us. However stressed or tense, we can always find solace in each other’s embrace.

Slowly, I kiss along your jaw, small loving pecks. You lean your head to one side, allowing me better access. The stubble of your beard tickles, making me giggle as I move down to nuzzle your neck. Your pulse flickers under my lips and I can’t help myself, teasingly I bite you there. Not hard, just enough to leave a small indentation, my mark left on your skin. Your responding growl, a dark sound deep in your throat, instantly quickens my breathing.

Suddenly, you have me pushed against the wall, your strong hands on my waist, holding me in place. Your stare is ominous, your breathing ragged. For a few seconds, time seems to stop as our gazes meet. Dark stormy eyes swallow me whole. My body trembles. I want to look away, to keep from drowning in your depth, but I force myself to overcome my uncertainty and meet you in the smoldering fire.

Your pelvis pushes against mine and, through the denim of our jeans, I feel you growing. I lick my suddenly dry lips, waiting for you to move. Your eyes follow the movement. I sense your tension building, like a coil tightening, ready to snap at any moment. Your pulse is visible in your neck. My gaze fixes on your lips. I want them on mine, want the hungry feral beast that resides in you to uncoil and pounce.

The only warning I have is a slight tightening of your grip before you spring into action, your hungry mouth devouring mine as if I’m as vital to you as air. Fisting my tank top and pushing it up, you expose my breasts for your grabbing hands.

I answer you in kind, lifting your t-shirt over your head. Your mouth lowers to my chest to envelop a nipple in wet warmth, the instant you’re free from the cotton. A moan escapes my parted swollen lips, my nails dig into your bare shoulders. You suckle and bite at my breasts, leaving your branding marks, before returning back to ravage my mouth.

I fumble at your belt, wanting to remove more clothes. I want you closer, need you closer, need to get lost in you, become enveloped by you, completely. You help me, quickly removing your jeans and boxers to make you accessible to me.

Urgently, but also with reverence, I touch your engorged flesh. Your hard cock is warm against my fingers. I caress it lovingly, feeling more wetness seeping into my already soaking panties. Your hips jerk involuntarily, grinding your erection against my palm. Pre-cum wets my hand and I raise it to my mouth, licking the wetness with the tip of my tongue.

Oh God, the taste of your salty arousal drives me wild. I want you in my mouth, to gobble you down, to drink your essence. But, you have other plans and stop me with a hand around my throat.

Oh, wow, it’s one of those times, when you show me who’s the boss, when you take complete control, when you own me. I shiver with anticipation and feel heat rising from my core like a flooding fountain of lava.

For a moment, you look at me, your expression feral, your upper lip drawing back in a fierce growl. “Mine.”

‘Yes, yours,’ I want to answer, but you’re kissing me, making it impossible for me to speak.

Skilled fingers unbutton the fly of my jeans, pushing inside my panties to be welcomed by my soaking cunt. Your digits moving inside my slick swollen wetness feels amazing. My hips move to meet your grinding fingers and it doesn’t take long until I’m on the brink of ecstasy. My shallow breathing and erratically moving pelvis betray me, and you remove your hand just in time to deny me of my orgasm.

A frustrated moan escapes my lips, my disappointment apparent.

“Not yet, pet,” you chuckle, smearing my juices over my face and then licking your glistening fingers.

You take your time, methodically cleaning every finger. I marvel at your restraint. How can you tease me like this without losing control? I feel your erection throbbing against my thigh and your lust is tangible, crackling in the air between us. And yet, you take time to tease me like this, to make me savagely hungry for you.

Your other hand is still around my throat, keeping me in place against the wall. I try to move, hoping to make you act, to entice you to move forward with haste.

“Tsk, tsk, kitten,” you purr. Leaning closer, you whisper in my ear, “Cock hungry little whore this evening, aren’t we?”

Your soft lips moving against my ear, whispering profanities, ignite me even further. I’m a burning inferno of lust and you’ve not even entered me. My legs buckle and, without you holding me, I would crumble to the floor.

“Ready to be my little fuck toy now, kitten?”

I can only moan something unintelligible. I’m too far gone to be coherent.

Apparently, this is what you’ve been waiting for. You make quick work of my jeans and panties, pushing them down to my ankles. Impatiently, I kick them off the rest of the way.

You take me hard and fast, entering with one quick thrust, filling my aching sex with your throbbing cock.

There, against the wall with my legs wrapped around your waist, you show me how much you want me; you show me that I’m yours. I’m exalted, drinking in your feral primal energy. We’re entwined, for a short time becoming one.

My orgasm is sudden, an explosion of ecstasy that shakes me from head to toe. You engulf me in your arms, holding me tight, while my body is wracked with trembling aftershocks.

We sink to the floor, me on top, you lying on the floor looking up at me. You push my tank top over my head, but leave it wrapped around my upper arms, effectively tying them behind my back.

Again, you put a hand around my throat, squeezing just a little bit. Not hard enough to make me struggle for breath, but enough to let me know that you’re in control even though I’m on top.

Pulling me down for a hard kiss, you rasp, “Take your pleasure. Show me how much you love riding my cock.”

I ride you slowly, savoring the feel of you deep inside me. Grinding my hips hard against your pelvis, I move up and down at an almost lazy pace while teasingly squeezing your hardness with my pelvic muscles. I can see the effect I have on you and I relish it.

Unexpectedly, I’m now the master and you’re a slave to your own arousal. You bite your lip hard, groaning. I observe you struggling for control, eyes closing and head tipping backward. The hand around my throat squeezes harder and the other grips my hip, holding me in place as you start meeting my thrusts with your own, increasing the speed.

And then, suddenly, you snap, you loose control. This position is not enough for you. You need me under you, subjugated to you.

I’m flipped over, manhandled into position. My face is pushed into the cold linoleum. A tendril of fear runs through me, but it dissipates quickly, replaced by arousal. I trust you, completely. I know you wouldn’t hurt me. The way you now impatiently smack my ass, wanting me to move it just right for you, will leave a mark. Your branding handprint will later remind me of your eagerness to take me as yours.

I reward you by pushing back, totally exposing myself to your will. One last smack lands on my bared pussy, making me shiver.

You take me without pardon. Grabbing my hair in a fist, you force me to arch my back, as you pound me from behind. You leave no room for doubt: I am yours to take, to use, to conquer.

Wrapping your arm around my neck, you pull me closer, so my back is against your chest. It’s slick with sweat and your ragged breathing is an accompaniment to your grinding hips.

Your free hand goes between my legs, working my clit.

“Cum for me, you fucking slut,” you growl. “Show me how much you love my cock in you, whore.”

It’s as much the way you fuck me, as the way you speak to me, totally overpowering and taking possession over me, that make me go over the edge. I cum hard, screaming your name.

You don’t relent even then but keep rubbing my sex, making me cum over and over, all the time snarling obscenities. You’ve become more beast than man.

In the end, it’s too much for me, I can’t take any more. I’m a ragdoll in your arms, spent, depleted. I beg you to stop, but you ignore me. You gasp loving dirty things in my ear and pump faster, erratically.

“Just one more for me, you fucking cunt. Show me you’re mine.”

At your command I do cum, giving you what you need and I tremble in your embrace.

“Yes,” you roar, biting down on my neck, almost breaking the skin. You plunge a few more times before erupting. Howling, you empty yourself deep in me, filling me with your essence.

You fall on top of me, your breathing ragged, and I nudge you to move. You’re far too heavy. Immediately you roll over, looking at me with concern.

“Was I too rough?” I can hear the tense tremor of uncertainty in your voice.

I shake my head, giving you a tired but warm smile and nuzzle into your safe embrace.

You relax again, kiss my forehead, and pull me closer. Caressing my cheek with your lips, you whisper my favorite word, “Mine.