She sucks at his pulse point, pressing closer to him, her hips rocking subtly against his, but at first there's no indication she actually hears the words. She finds his hands in hers, threading their fingers together.

But a second or two too late, she shifts back far enough to look down at his face, the feral expression in his blue eyes; her own green eyes are dark with need.

"You're mine," she says, and licks her lips, tasting his skin and blood to confirm her words. "You understand that?"

She's wet, pressed against him, her labia hot and full, her core throbbing with how much she needs him.