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The moment the bedroom door clicked shut, the atmosphere shifted. The playful tension from earlier evaporated, replaced by something raw and primal. CJ's eyes were dark, locked on yours as he backed you up until your shoulders hit the wall with a soft thud.

"Missed this," he growled, his voice a low rumble as his hands slammed against the wall on either side of your head, caging you in. He wasn't asking, he was stating a fact.

He crushed his mouth to yours, a bruising, possessive kiss that stole the air from your lungs. It wasn't gentle; it was a claim. One hand moved from the wall to wrap around your throat, his fingers pressing just enough to make your head swim, to make you achingly aware of his control. A soft gasp escaped you.

"Who's in charge here?" he demanded, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

You couldn't form words, your mind foggy from the lack of air and the overwhelming presence of him.

"Answer me," he commanded, tightening his grip slightly.

"You," you finally managed to **** out.

"That's right." A smirk touched his lips as he spun you around, pressing your chest flush against the cool plaster. He kicked your feet apart with his own, leaving you completely exposed. "And who am I?"

You hesitated, and the sharp sting of his hand connecting with your ass made you cry out. The sound echoed in the room, followed by another, harder slap that left the skin burning.

"Who. Am. I?" he repeated, his voice dangerously low.

"Daddy," you whispered, the word feeling foreign and thrilling on your tongue.

"Good girl." His praise was a balm as he soothed the reddened skin with his palm, only to deliver another stinging spank. "And who does this pussy belong to?"

You bit your lip, a wave of shyness washing over you despite the situation. His hand came down again, harder this time, and you yelped.

"Answer me," he demanded, his voice leaving no room for defiance.

"You," you gasped. "It's your pussy."

"Damn right it is." Without warning, he drove into you from behind, a single, powerful thrust that made you see stars. You cried out, your hands flat against the wall to steady yourself as he set a punishing rhythm, each thrust driving you harder against the wall. The sounds filling the room were primal—skin meeting skin, your **** cries, his guttural groans.

"Say it again," he growled, his hand tangling in your hair and pulling your head back. "Tell me who this belongs to."

"It's yours," you sobbed, overwhelmed by the pleasure and pain. "It's your pussy, Daddy."

He grunted in satisfaction, his movements becoming even more forceful. Just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he pulled out, turning you around and lifting you effortlessly. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he pinned you to the wall again, this time face to face.

"Look at me," he commanded, his eyes locking with yours as he entered you again. The new angle was devastating, hitting a spot deep inside you that made your entire body clench.

His hand returned to your throat, squeezing rhythmically in time with his thrusts. The combination of pleasure, pain, and oxygen deprivation was intoxicating, pushing you closer to the edge with every passing second.

"You gonna come for Daddy?" he asked, his voice rough with exertion.

You could only nod, your eyes rolling back as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak.

"Beg for it," he demanded.

"Please," you gasped, your vision starting to tunnel. "Please, Daddy, let me come..."

"Come," he commanded, and your body obeyed instantly.

Your orgasm crashed over you with the **** of a tidal wave, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure washed through you. Your cries filled the room as he continued to thrust, prolonging your pleasure until you were completely spent.

When he finally came, it was with a deep groan against your neck, his body shuddering as he emptied himself inside you. For a moment, you both stayed like that, pressed against the wall, your bodies slick with sweat, your breathing ragged.

He didn't give you long to recover. Carrying you to the bed, he tossed you down before crawling over you, spreading your legs with his knees. He entered you again in one smooth motion, this time in missionary, his weight pinning you to the mattress.

This time was different—slower, more deliberate, but no less intense. His eyes never left yours as he moved inside you, his hips rolling in a way that had you climbing toward another peak almost immediately.

"Watch me," he commanded. "Watch me while I fuck what's mine."

You obeyed, your gaze locked with his as he drove into you again and again, each thrust a reminder of his possession. When his hand moved between your legs, his thumb finding your clit, you knew you wouldn't last long.

"Come with me this time," he murmured, his movements becoming more erratic. "Come with me now."

Your second orgasm was even more intense than the first, your bodies moving together as you both found your release. When he finally collapsed against you, his weight grounding you, you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The only sounds were your mingled breathing, the quiet hum of the air conditioner, the distant city noise that always seemed to be present.

"Mine," he finally said, his voice muffled against your neck.

You nodded, too spent to speak, but knowing he was right.