“No one touches you,” I say. Reaching over, I grab another condom, tearing it open and then covering myself. “You’re mine,” I tell her. Moving her knees back once I get between her legs, I rub myself up and down her slit, wetting the condom. When I slide into her slowly, her back arches, and her hand reaches out to pull me closer. “You said so yourself.”

She groans. “You can’t take anything I say during sex seriously.” I pull out of her, and her nails dig into my ass. “Mark,” she hisses and looks at me.

“Is it mine?” I ask, pushing into her again and then pulling out. She doesn’t say a word, so I pound into her harder. She groans and looks at me. “Mine.”

“Yours,” she says, and then she locks her legs around my hips. “Now, show me why I should be yours.”

“Challenge accepted,” I tell her, and for the next four hours, I use her body over and over again. And when I look over, she is sleeping. I smile at her, thinking about how many times I made her beg and how many times she almost cried out in frustration. When I roll into her and take her in my arms, the way she fits is perfect.

“No more,” she grumbles. “I need to sleep, and then you better feed me.”

“Go to sleep, and I’ll feed you when you get up,” I say. She turns in my arms and puts her head in my neck, and with her legs intertwined with mine, I fall asleep.

When my eyes blink over, I look over and see the sun setting, and my arm feels like it’s being crushed. I look down, and her long black hair covers my whole chest. My cock lets me know he’s ready to play again, and instead of waking her up with my cock, I slowly move away from her. Going to the bathroom, I slip on my robe and then walk slowly and softly out of the room. I head straight to the kitchen and grab two prepared meals.

I set the timer on the stove according to the instructions and then walk outside where the wind is picking up. I look out over the horizon at the boats lingering on the water.

“There you are.” I hear from behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I see Vivienne come outside wearing the shirt I was wearing this morning. Even with the sleep still in her eyes and her wearing my shirt that is almost like a dress, she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

“Sleeping Beauty.” I laugh at her, and she walks with me to the railing, the breeze blowing her hair back. I open my arms for her, and she stands in front of me, and my arms hold her. “Did you sleep well?”