For my sister | Negan |

47 - Yours

TW: Sexual content

'I like the sound of that', Negan says before his lips crash down on mine. 'Say it again.'

'I'm yours', I whisper, my voice barely more than a breath in the short breaks in between kisses.

'Yes, you are.'

His hands tug at my shirt, and soon it flies across the room, leaving me in my jeans and bra.

'Now let me take care of you', he mumbles into my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

His fingers work at the clasp of my bra while he runs a string of kisses all along my neck down to my collarbone, only to rush right back and suck at the skin at the nape of my neck.

A soft moan escapes me just as he manages to open my bra and he draws back to pull it off of me.

'You've no idea how happy you made me', he says as his eyes trail unapologetically over my torso.

'How happy?' I ask him playfully.

He grins in return and takes my hand to hold it against the growing bulge in his pants.

'Very happy', he says suggestively.

I gasp and pull my hands free to hit his chest with it.

'You're the worst', I scoff indignantly.

'But you like it that way, don't you?'

Giving me no chance to protest, he picks me up and spins me around to toss me onto the bed. Within seconds, he's jumped onto it as well to kiss me passionately while he fumbles at my jeans.

Once he's managed to unbutton them, he crawls down to yank them off me, along with my panties. He doesn't bother to undress himself. He only lowers his pants and puts on a condom before he climbs on top of me again. I don't mind. I like the sight of him naked, but I like him in that leather jacket as well.

He interlaces his fingers with mine as he enters me. I notice vaguely how his leather glove feels cool against my hand, but most of my attention is drawn up by the feeling of how he moves inside of me.

It's faster this time. I guess he's too excited to bother with any kind of foreplay, and though I enjoyed that very much the other times, I don't mind skipping it this time. I love the way he feels.

I'm yours.

I told him that I dedicated myself to him before. But I didn't really mean it. Now, I do. It's like he's been reeling me in ever since I got here. First, I pretended to be falling for it, but somewhere along the line, pretending blurred into reality. A few weeks ago I never could have imagined that this would happen. But then again, a lot of things have happened in the past few years that I never could have imagined.

His hands push me down into the matrass, but the strength with which he holds me doesn't scare me. I feel entirely safe, trapped under his body. I believe him now, when he says he'd never hurt me.

His lips are close to mine at all times. Sometimes he kisses me, sometimes he draws slightly away to moan or to gasp. His breathing is heavy, but so is mine. Soon, his movements turn rougher, his hold on me slacks. But before he comes, he moves his lips to my ear and whispers to me.

'Do you like how it feels to be mine?' he asks me huskily, between heavy breaths.

'Yes, sir, I do', I respond, remembering how much he liked it when I called him sir the last time.

How could I tell him that I'm his?

'You are such a good girl', he says, letting go of my hand to grab my breast. A shock of pleasure runs through my body when he pinches my sensitive nipple and I gasp.