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The morning light was a personal traitor. It sliced through the blinds, painting a golden stripe across the rumpled sheets and directly onto Rumi's sleeping face. Jinu watched her, the steady rise and fall of her chest, the soft part of her lips. His stomach tightened, not with anxiety, but with a deep, smoldering possession.
She had a train to catch. Aunt Celine was expecting her by lunch.
He had other plans.
Jinu shifted, his body curving around hers, his front to her back. His nose brushed the sensitive skin behind her ear, inhaling the warm, sleep-sweet scent of her. His lips followed, a whisper of a kiss that made her sigh in her sleep. Good. He trailed those kisses down the column of her neck, lingering over the pulse point there, feeling the life thrum under his tongue.
“Jinu,” she mumbled, still more asleep than awake. “Time?”
“Not yet,” he murmured against her skin, his voice gravelly. His hand slid from her waist, up over the gentle curve of her ribs, until his palm cupped the full weight of her breast. He thumbed her nipple through the thin cotton of her camisole, feeling it pebble instantly under his touch. A soft gasp escaped her. “We’ve got time.”
Jinu rolled her onto her back, coming over her, caging her in. Her eyes fluttered open, bleary and beautiful. “My train…”
“Will wait,” he said, and sealed his mouth over hers.
This wasn’t a gentle good-morning kiss. It was a claim. His tongue swept into her mouth, tasting sleep and her unique sweetness. Jinu kissed her like he was starving, and she was the only thing that could fill him. One of his hands tangled in her hair, tilting her head back to deepen the angle, while the other continued its lazy, torturous circles on her breast. Rumi melted into the mattress, a moan vibrating from her throat into his mouth. Her hands came up, not to push him away, but to clutch at his shoulders, his back, pulling him closer.
That’s it, he thought. Give in to me.
He broke the kiss, both of them breathing hard. Her lips were swollen, her eyes dark with a dawning, needy haze. “You’re going to make me late,” she breathed, but her hips arched up, seeking friction against the hard line of his cock straining against his boxers.
“I’m going to make you forget your own name,” he promised, his voice low and rough. He kissed her again, softer this time, sucking on her bottom lip before trailing his mouth down her chin, her throat. He lingered at the hollow of her collarbone, his tongue laving the spot before he sealed his lips over it and sucked.
The sound she made was half-protest, half-pleasure. “Jinu… a hickey… I can’t…”
“You can,” he soothed, releasing the skin to admire the immediate reddening blotch. A perfect, urgent rose blooming on her canvas. “And you will.” Jinu moved lower, his mouth finding the slope of her breast through her camisole, his teeth grazing her nipple until she cried out. “I want Celine to see you and know. I want her to look at your neck and see that you’re mine.”
He hooked his fingers into the straps of her camisole and panties, dragging them down her body in one slow, relentless motion. Rumi was naked beneath him, her skin flushing, her nipples tight and begging for his mouth. He obliged, taking one into his mouth, sucking hard, his tongue flicking the peak until she was writhing, her fingers twisting in his hair.
“So pretty like this,” Jinu murmured, switching to her other breast. “So fucking perfect for me. My good girl.” The praise went through her like a live wire; he felt her cunt clench on nothing, saw the shiver ripple across her stomach.
He worshipped her body with his mouth, kissing a path down her sternum, over her quivering belly, dipping his tongue into her navel. Jinu pushed her thighs apart, his large hands holding her open, and just… looked. Her cunt was already glistening, pink and swollen and utterly beautiful. The scent of her arousal, musky and sweet, hit him, and he groaned, lowering his face.
“Jinu,” she whimpered, her hands flying back to his hair.
He didn’t tease. He dove in.
His tongue found her slit and licked a long, wet stripe from her entrance all the way up to her clit. Rumi jerked, a sharp cry tearing from her throat. God, she was soaked. Her wetness coated his chin. He did it again, slower, savoring the taste, the silken feel of her. Then he focused on her clit, circling it with the flat of his tongue before sucking it gently into his mouth.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” she chanted, her thighs trying to close around his head, but he held her firm, his grip unyielding. He fucked her with his tongue, plunging it into her tight, dripping hole, then pulling back to lap at her juices. Jinu alternated between deep, penetrating strokes and rapid, fluttering flicks on her clit. He was ravenous, consuming her, drinking her down. Her hips bucked against his face, her moans growing higher, more desperate.
“You taste so good,” he growled against her, the vibrations making her shriek. “My perfect girl. Your pussy is so wet for me. Dripping all over my face.” He slid two fingers into her, curling them, and her inner muscles clamped down on him like a vise. He sucked her clit hard, and that was all it took.
Her orgasm hit her like a seizure. Her back arched off the bed, a raw, guttural scream ripped from her lungs. Rumi shook uncontrollably, her cunt pulsing around his fingers, gushing more wetness onto his hand. Jinu rode it out with her, gentling his mouth, lapping at her softly as she came down, twitching and gasping.
Before she could even recover, he was moving. He stripped his boxers, his cock springing free, thick and leaking. He positioned himself between her splayed thighs, the head of his cock nudging her slick, used entrance. Jinu leaned down, bracing himself on his forearms, his face inches from hers. Her eyes were hazy, unfocused with pleasure.
“Look at me,” he commanded softly.
Her gaze found his.
He pushed in.
The feeling was breathtaking. Rumi was so fucking tight, but so wet, her cunt yielding to him with a soft, obscene schlick. He buried himself to the hilt in one smooth thrust, swallowing her gasp with a kiss. Jinu stilled, fully sheathed inside her, their bodies fused. Then he slowly withdrew and thrust again, setting a deep, relentless rhythm.
“You feel that?” he rasped into her ear, his hips pounding into her. “You feel how deep I am? How you take all of me?” He took one of her hands, lacing their fingers together, pinning it to the mattress beside her head. Their intertwined hands were a stark, tender contrast to the raw fucking. “That’s it. Squeeze my hand. Let me feel you.”
Rumi did, her grip fierce. Her other hand clawed at his back. The wet, slapping sounds of their joining filled the room, punctuated by their ragged breaths and her sobbing moans. “I’m… I’m gonna…”
“Come for me again,” Jinu ordered, his pace becoming punishing. “Come on my cock, baby. Show me what a good girl you are.”
His words, the filthy praise, the overwhelming fullness—it tipped her over. Her cunt convulsed around him, a second, violent orgasm tearing through her. Rumi screamed, her body bowing, her nails digging into his skin. The intense, rhythmic clenching of her inner walls was too much. With a final, brutal thrust, he slammed home and came.
His orgasm was a torrent. Thick, hot jets of cum flooded her cunt, pulse after pulse, so much it felt like it would never end. Jinu groaned, a raw, animal sound, as he emptied himself inside her, filling her up, marking her in the most intimate way possible. He collapsed on top of her, still buried to the hilt, their sweat-slick bodies glued together. He could feel his cum, hot and abundant, starting to seep out from where they were joined.
He didn’t pull out. He wouldn’t. Not yet. He nuzzled her neck, his lips finding a fresh, unmarked patch of skin above her collarbone. He sucked, hard, determined to leave one last, undeniable brand.
From the nightstand, Rumi's phone buzzed insistently. Then again. The screen lit up with Celine's name.
Jinu's smiled against her skin, his hips giving a tiny, possessive grind, making more of his cum leak out onto her thigh. “Let it ring,”