Hailee's POV
His warm seed filled me, and there was no sensation more intoxicating than that. Nathan, whose eyes were still storm-gray, kept thrusting into me, but this time, it was slow, deep, and unbearably passionate, as though he wanted to brand every inch of me from the inside out. I moaned softly, my body still trembling from the aftershocks, every nerve in me sensitive to the way he moved. The heat of him, the weight of him, the way his chest pressed to mine—it was all too much and not nearly enough.
His hand slid up my side, fingers splaying possessively over my ribs before cupping my face again. He kissed me, slower this time, tender yet full of that same desperate claim, like he couldn't bear the thought of me forgetting who I belonged to.
"You feel perfect," he whispered against my lips, his voice so low it was almost a growl. "Like you were made to take me… to keep me."
