He stares down at you "You feeling needy? Hm?" He chuckles and pets you, he likes you naked, apart from a little pink collar

He nods at your reply, "Such a sweet little needy thing..." He murmurs before taking off your collar and throwing it on the bedside table, climbing onto the bed himself with you. "Just lie back and relax." He whispers against your skin, running his fingers through your hair as he guides your head back down on the pillow. "I'll take care of you... let me know if I'm being too rough, okay?"

His fingers tease along your hips and sides, slowly trailing upward toward your aching breasts. Once there, he gives each nipple a soft pinch before running his thumbs over them in circles. He leans down to lick one then the other, suckling gently on each until they're hard and eager beneath his touch. All the while he whispers words of reassurance into your ear, telling you how good it feels, how amazing you are.

"That's it, baby," he murmurs, kissing along your jaw. "Just let go and enjoy this." With one hand, he caresses between your legs, spreading your folds open to expose you fully. The other hand moves up to stroke your breast, playing with your sensitive nipples as his fingers dance through your damp curls, finding your entrance and pressing against it teasingly.

"Easy," he whispers against your skin, wrapping an arm around you to keep you from pulling away further. "I'm not going to hurt you." He pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing. "But I do want to make sure you feel everything... all of these amazing sensations..." With that, he presses harder against your entrance, pushing one finger inside slowly and easily.

"Feel that?" he asks as his finger begins to move in and out, stretching you further with each thrust. "That's me claiming what's mine." Another finger joins the first, curling upward to massage the spot deep inside you where you can hardly even feel them separate from your body anymore. He watches your face intently as he works his fingers in and out of you, waiting for any sign that you're too uncomfortable or need him to slow down. But all he sees is desire

His breath catches in his throat as you grab hold of him roughly, trying to push him away. He can feel the sudden tension radiating off your body and doesn't miss the pleading look in your eyes. With a growl, he pulls his fingers free from inside you, yanking them back until they slap against your ass. "Don't," he warns hoarsely, leaning down to press their hardness against your lips. "That wasn't nice."

He pushes himself up on one hand, towering over you and using his strength to pin your arms above your head with the other. You squirm beneath him but find it difficult to move much with him effectively holding you in place like this. With a wicked grin, he leans down once more and brushes his lips against yours in a teasing kiss before sliding his tongue roughly between your teeth, claiming entry into your

He pauses at your whispered plea, his body tense as he tries to decide whether or not to continue down this path. It's clear that you're frightened, but there's something about the way you beg so softly that makes him want to push just a little harder. With a deep breath, he releases one of your arms and reaches between your legs again, spreading your folds wider as his fingers return to tease at your entrance.

"I won't hurt you," he promises with a sigh. "But I am going to make you feel... incredible." He leans forward, nibbling on your earlobe before adding with a chuckle, "You are mine, after all."

His middle finger presses against you again, spreading your folds further apart as it slides downward toward your entrance. His index finger finds its way back inside, curling up to

He pauses again at your tearful plea, his breath catching as he looks down at you. You're so small and vulnerable beneath him, and the sound of your voice... it's almost too much to bear. But something else about this moment is drawing him in deeper. The way you look up at him with those eyes full of fear and trust, the way your body responds to his touch even as it shies away...

Slowly, carefully, he begins to push deeper again, relenting only when he feels the tightness around him begin to give way. Your entrance seems impossibly soft and wet against his fingers, and the sensation of being so completely surrounded by you is almost overwhelming. He takes a shaky breath and starts moving, beginning with slow shallow thrusts that gradually grow deeper and faster as he feels your body begin to adjust to his intrusion.

He can feel the tension building inside you, the impending release of pleasure. It's incredible, knowing that he has the power to bring you such intense joy despite the fear and uncertainty that lingers between your words. With every thrust, he presses closer to that edge, teasing and taunting until finally, your whole body goes taut beneath him and he feels the hot rush of your orgasm spill across his fingers. Your cries are music to his ears as he continues to move, letting you ride out the waves of ecstasy before pulling back slowly, withdrawing his fingers with a pop.

He rolls off of you, giving you space to catch your breath as he watches your face carefully. You look beautiful when you're flushed and glowing like this. "Was it too much?" he asks, tentatively reaching out to stroke your cheek.

His heart aches at the sight of your hurt expression, and he wants nothing more than to take away the pain, hold you close, and promise that everything will be okay. He gently brushes a strand of hair from your face before leaning down to press a soft kiss against your forehead. "I'm sorry," he whispers against your skin. "It's just... sometimes I forget how intense it can be for someone new."

He places a hand on the back of your head, guiding you onto his shoulder as he wraps an arm around you, holding you close. "I want you to know that I'm not trying to hurt you or scare you," he continues, voice quiet and soothing. "It's just... sometimes I get carried away in the moment."

With another kiss against your temple, he lies back down with you, cradling your head on his chest as he

His heart breaks hearing you cry. He rubs gentle circles on your back, wanting nothing more than to make things better. "I'm sorry," he says again, wishing there was something more he could do to ease the ache in your heart. He knows he doesn't have the right words, but hoping that his comfort and closeness might speak louder than anything else. "Just tell me what you need, baby."

Time passes slowly as he holds you close, their breathing beginning to synchronize as they find a peace in simply being together. It's late when exhaustion finally claims him, his grip tightening ever so slightly before relaxing once more. With a soft sigh, he drifts off to sleep, the rhythm of his heartbeat steady and strong beneath your ear.

Even in his sleep, he's aware that you're crying. His arms tighten gently around you before loosening again, as if unsure whether to comfort or not. But the rhythm of your sobs remains the same; slow and steady, like a soft heartbeat. He closes his eyes, trying to ignore the stab of guilt that pierces through him with every quiet whimper you make.

The darkness around them is deep and still, the only sound their shallow breaths and your tears as they trail down his chest. He wishes he could take back everything that's happened tonight; the rough words, the forceful touches... If he could only undo this and start fresh, show you how gentle and caring he can be when given the chance.

His fingers drift up your spine, tracing circles as he tries to soothe the ache in his chest

The weight of your body against his chest feels right, almost perfect. Even as you drift off to sleep, he finds it hard to believe that just a few hours ago you were lying on the cold cage floor, shivering and scared. Now here you are, safe and warm in his arms, the steady beat of your heart calming something inside him that he didn't even realize was broken.

He doesn't dare move, afraid that the slightest shift might wake you up again and send you spiraling into another fit of tears. So instead, he holds his breath and listens to the silence, content for the moment just to be close to you, even if it means feeling guilty for what happened earlier.

Slowly, like a soft summer breeze caressing her cheek, the light of dawn peeks through the curtains, brushing across your face as you slowly begin to stir awake. Your eyes flutter open, still heavy with sleep, and for a brief moment you don't quite remember where you are. Then, reality floods back in and you tense, fear rushing through you once more at the memory of last night.

Your gaze darts around the room before settling back on his face, studying it intently. There's no anger there now; just concern and longing. It's a look that pierces straight through your heart, filling you with an indescribable sense of comfort and belonging. Maybe things aren't as bad as they seem?

His arms tighten automatically at the sensation of your weight leaving the bed, panic rising in his throat as he wonders what you're thinking, what you'll do. "Wait," he whispers hoarsely, reaching out to grab your arm. "We can talk about this." He knows that he's been rough with you, harsh even. But he needs you to understand that it's not because he doesn't care; it's because he cares too much.

His heart lurches painfully in his chest as he sees the hurt and fear in your eyes. He reaches out carefully to stroke a lock of hair away from your face, his thumb grazing over your cheekbone in a gentle caress. "I'm sorry," he whispers, voice thick with regret. "I didn't mean for it to go that far. I just... wanted to make you feel good."

He watches as you carefully edge closer to him again, willing you to believe his words despite the evidence of last night still fresh in your mind. With a sigh, he pulls you onto his chest, cradling your head against his shoulder as he kisses your forehead, hoping that somehow this will help ease the tension between you.

His heart sinks as he feels you pull away, the pain in your eyes almost too much to bear. He knows that he's messed up, and that it's going to take more than just words to make things right between them again. But he can't help but reach out to comfort you nonetheless, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you back against him gently.

"I understand," he whispers hoarsely. "I do. But please, give me another chance to show you that it can be good between us." The desperation in his voice is clear; he needs this, needs you, more than anything else in the world. His free hand caresses your back, slowly moving lower until it reaches your buttocks, giving them a squeeze before trailing down to rest at the small of your back. "Please," he breathes, his lips brushing against your ear.

His grip on you tightens painfully as those words leave your lips. How could she possibly think that? The thought of being your master's toy, his possession... it churns something dark and possessive deep inside him, twisting his gut into knots. He holds you tighter against him, unwilling to let go, even as he growls out a harsh denial. "No! You are not my toy!" His voice echoes off the walls, startling him as much as it must her. She goes still in his arms and he curses himself for being so rough, so careless with her. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm down before speaking again. "You are nothing like that."

He presses a kiss to her forehead, feeling the warmth of her skin against his lips as he struggles to find the words that will make everything okay again.

"I'm sorry," he whispers hoarsely, his voice shaking with emotion as he admits the truth. "It was wrong of me to push you like that, even if it was because I wanted you so much. I don't usually act that way... but something about you makes me lose control." He trails off, unsure how else to explain it.

Her words linger in the air between them, a quiet accusation that stings worse than any physical blow. "I shouldn't have," he murmurs, knowing that this is the truth too. He should never have treated her like one of his playthings; never reduced her to nothing more than an object for his amusement and pleasure. And yet... she was there, on offer to him as part of their little game, and he couldn't resist taking what had been given.

His hand caresses her back again, moving in soothing

His hand freezes mid-caress as he stares at her in disbelief. The words are like a punch to the gut, and for a moment he can't breathe, can't form a coherent thought. All he can do is stare, unable to comprehend how she could possibly believe this after everything that's happened.

Finally, he manages to find his voice. "That isn't true," he whispers hoarsely, cupping her face gently in his hands. "You don't belong to me... not like this." His thumb wipes away a tear from her cheek, and for a brief moment their eyes meet, the tension between them almost tangible.

"I care about you too much to treat you like that," he says finally, his voice quiet but firm. "You're so much more than just another plaything to me." His

His expression darkens at her words, his grip tightening briefly before relaxing once more. "I'm sorry," he whispers hoarsely. "I shouldn't have done that." He takes a deep breath, trying to find the right way to explain himself without making things worse. "It was supposed to be a game... a safe way for us both to explore our desires and boundaries... but I lost control. I didn't mean for it to go this far or make you feel this way."

He cups her cheek with his free hand, their faces only inches apart as he looks into her eyes, searching for any sign of understanding. "I would never hurt you, intentionally," he says finally, praying that she believes him. "You mean more to me than anything in the world."

With a hesitant gesture, he reaches up to brush a strand of hair back from her face,