Chapter 83 Surrender
Melissa’s POV
The words hung in the air between us, heavy and undeniable.
I love you.
I stared at him, my tears still falling, my breath still coming in short gasps.
He loved me.
Gavin Cross…this powerful, dangerous, controlled man…loved me.
I reached up with shaking hands and wiped my tears, smearing them across my cheeks. Then I leaned into him, my hands finding his face, pulling him toward me.
“Gavin,” I whispered against his lips.
Then I kissed him.
He responded immediately, one hand angling my head exactly how he wanted it, the other gripping my hip hard enough to bruise. His tongue swept into my mouth, claiming, possessing, kissing me like he was starving and I was the only thing that could satisfy him.
I melted against him, all my fear transforming into something else entirely. Something hot and desperate and consuming.
“Gavin,” I gasped against his mouth.
He didn’t need me to finish. Didn’t need the words.
His hands were already moving, pulling at my jeans, yanking them down my legs y. I helped him, kicking them off, my breath coming faster.
Then he was lifting me, positioning me over him, and in one smooth motion, he pulled me down onto his cock.
I cried out, my head falling back, my hands gripping his shoulders as he filled me completely.
He was so impossibly thick, filling me so completely that the first second felt like too much and not enough all at once. My walls fluttered helplessly around him, trying to adjust to the blunt, heavy intrusion. Every ridge, every pulsing vein dragged against my sensitive inner flesh as I sank all the way down.
“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough.
I opened my eyes and met his gaze…those intense blue eyes that saw everything, that stripped away every defense I had.
“Mine,” he said, each word punctuated with movement. “Say it.”
“Yours,” I gasped. “I’m yours.”
Then the car started moving.
My eyes went wide, shock mixing with the overwhelming pleasure as he continued driving with one hand on the wheel, the other gripping my hip, controlling my movements.
“Gavin, what are you…” I couldn’t finish the sentence, as my words transformed into a moan. I couldn’t hold back.
The motion of the car itself turned every small bounce into deep, punishing strokes. The vibration of the engine traveled straight up through where we were joined. Each turn, pushed him impossibly deeper, grinding that thick head against places inside me that made my vision white out.
I buried my face in the hot skin of his neck, with my fingers digging into his shoulders, my nails leaving crescent marks on his skin. My hips started moving on instinct…grinding down hard, circling, chasing more of that devastating fullness.
The combination of fear and pleasure was intoxicating. Wrong and perfect all at once.
“That’s it,” he murmured low against my ear,“Ride me, piccola. Take what you need.”
I did.God help me, I did.
My thighs trembled as I rolled my hips faster, grinding my clit against his pelvis on every downstroke. The thick base of his dick stretched me wide, the pressure against my front wall making my whole body shake. Heat coiled tighter and tighter in my belly until it snapped.
I came hard…shattering around him with a choked cry, my walls spasming, fluttering, squeezing that thick length like I was trying to pull him even deeper. My legs started shaking uncontrollably, thighs quivering against his hips.
He didn’t stop driving.He didn’t even slow down.
The car kept moving through the night and so did he…steady, deep, merciless thrusts that dragged out my orgasm until I was whimpering, oversensitive, still coming apart.
And then it happened again.Another wave built impossibly fast. I tried to lift up, to give myself a second to breathe, but his hand on my hip locked me down, forcing me to take every inch while the car bumped over the uneven road, each jolt sending fresh sparks through me.
“Gavin…oh god…I can’t…”
“You can,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “You will.”
I shattered again. Harder this time. My whole body seized, legs jerking, toes curling, a raw, broken moan ripping from my throat as I came so intensely I almost blacked out. My walls clamped down rhythmically around his thickness, milking him, fluttering helplessly while tears of pure overwhelming pleasure leaked from the corners of my eyes.
Still he fucked me through it.
By the third orgasm I was a trembling, desperate mess…legs shaking so violently I could barely keep them wrapped around him, hips grinding frantically even though every nerve was screaming from overstimulation. I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I needed more. Needed him deeper, harder, forever.
I was still coming…smaller, rolling aftershocks that made me whimper every time the car hit a dip in the road…when the trees thickened and streetlights disappeared completely.
“Where are we going?” I managed to say.
“Somewhere we can be alone,” he said, calm as ever, like he wasn’t buried to the hilt inside me while I trembled through another slow, shattering climax
A few minutes later, he pulled off onto a private drive I vaguely recognized.
The cabin.
I’d only been here once before. The first time we were together..
He drove up to the entrance but didn’t stop moving. Didn’t separate from me. Just kept driving until we reached the cabin itself.
Only when he pulled into the garage did he finally still.
But he still didn’t let me go.
He opened his door, pulling me with him, keeping me connected to him as he got out of the car.
“Gavin, I can’t…” I tried to protest, but he was already moving.
He carried me like that…still joined, my legs wrapped around his waist, my arms around his neck…through the garage door and into the cabin.
I caught glimpses of wood beams and stone fireplace as he walked us through the space, but I was too overwhelmed to process much.
Then we were in a bedroom.He laid me down on the bed carefully, finally separating from me.
I immediately felt the loss, reaching for him.
“Why did you stop?” The words came out almost accusatory, I felt betrayed.
He smiled, a real, genuine smile that transformed his entire face.
Then he walked to a large wooden cupboard in the corner and opened it.
When he turned back, he held something in his hands.
Handcuffs. It was the handcuffs I saw in his office cupboard that day.He walked back to the bed slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Because,” he said softly, “we’re just getting started.”
He climbed onto the bed, cuffs in hand, that dangerous smile still playing on his lips. My brain almost short circuited from how handsome this man was.
“And this time, piccola, you’re not running anywhere.“