Lose Control Again (1)

**Rei's POV**

The next morning.

I woke up the next morning, my arms wrapped firmly around her, her body pressed against mine, her head resting against my chest. My body is warm and content as I relish the feel of her in my arms, the memories of the previous night still fresh in my mind.

I didn't open my eyes right away, instead remaining in that in-between state of half-consciousness, my mind drifting with the memories of the night before. The way she had submitted to me, the way she'd whispered her love for me, the way her body had responded to mine, the way my possessive instincts had flared up whenever—

I had to stop that train of thought before it got me all damn worked up again. Despite the early hour, my body was instantly starting to show signs of being damn interested again, my damn hormones waking up along with the rest of me.

I took in a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair, my hands running over her body in soft caresses, my fingers tracing the curves and lines, relishing the feel of her warm, sleep-warmed skin. Damn, but she felt so damn right in my arms.

I could feel my body slowly stirring with each passing second, my desire for her, my possessive desire to claim her and make her mine, damn near burning beneath my skin. But at the same time, I also felt a sense of contentment and comfort, simply having her in my damn arms like this.

I opened my eyes, lifting my head up slightly to glance down at her face, taking in the sight of her sweet, peaceful expression as she slept on. Damn, she looked so damn beautiful and sweet, and she was damn well mine.

I shifted slightly, pulling her even closer, my arms encircling her in a possessive embrace as I watched her sleep. I ran my hand through her hair, a soft smile playing at my lips as I took in the details of her face, the way her lashes fluttered against her cheeks, the parted lips, the way her chest rose and fell with every breath.

A part of me was half tempted to wake her up and claim her again, right damn well now. But the sight of her sleeping so peacefully, her body tucked snugly against mine, was too damn beautiful to disturb.

A small part of me couldn't help but wonder how she felt, waking up in my arms like this, knowing that she was mine, that my damn marks and love bites still covered her body, visible evidence of my possession. I was a possessive bastard, and I knew it, but I didn't damn well care. I wanted everyone to know she was mine.

I let out a low, possessive hum, nuzzling my face into her hair, inhaling her sweet scent like a man possessed.

My hand continued to caress her back, my fingertips tracing lazy circles on her skin as I kept her close. I didn't speak, just lay there in a comfortable, content silence, simply enjoying the feel of her body pressed against mine.

The morning sunlight streamed in through the curtains, bathing the room in a warm, golden light that made her skin look like a goddamn work of art. I felt my body harden as I glanced over her body, recalling the sight of her underneath me, marked up and flushed, damn near begging for me.

My hand suddenly moved to her neck, my fingers tracing over the numerous hickeys and bite marks I'd left on her in the heat of the moment. A small, satisfied smirk tugged at the corners of my lips as I saw the darkened skin, each mark a proud display of my claim on her.

I leaned in, my lips brushing against her skin as I planted a soft, possessive kiss on one of the marks, my hand continuing to caress her possessively. I was a possessive bastard, and I was damn proud of it.

With a final, reluctant glance at her still-sleeping form, I reluctantly pull myself out of bed, every muscle in my body protesting at the loss of her warm, sweet body against mine. But I ignore the protests, knowing I need to get up if I want to get anything done today.

I head into the bathroom to take a shower, stepping into the hot spray. The water runs over my body, rinsing off the sweat and other less than family-friendly fluids from the night before.

The hot water helps ease the slight ache in my muscles and cool the heat still lingering in my gut, but I'm still damn well tempted to go back into the damn bedroom right now. I know I need to cool down before I end up pouncing on her again.

With a growl of sheer determination, I force myself to finish my shower, washing my body and hair with damn near military efficiency before stepping out and wrapping a towel around my waist.

I dry off quickly, my body still slightly damp and warm from the shower. I glance at myself in the mirror, taking in the sight of the various marks and hickeys that still litter my skin, remnants from the night before. A proud, possessive surge goes through me as I take in the sight, my inner caveman practically preening at the visual proof that I'd claimed her as mine.

I leave the bathroom, still wearing only the damn towel around my waist as I head to the kitchen to start breakfast.

I enter the kitchen, still feeling a bit damn restless and pent up. I set about getting started on breakfast, pulling out some eggs, bacon, and other ingredients from the fridge. As I cook, I move around the kitchen like a lion in a cage, my movements still slightly tense and pent up, my thoughts still lingering on her sleeping form in the other room.

I try to distract myself by focusing on the task at hand, but damn, it's difficult when all I can think about is her and the damn things we'd done the night before

The smell of the cooking food fills the kitchen, the sizzling of the bacon and the hiss of the eggs on the pan the only sounds in the room. I try to keep my mind focused on the food, trying to ignore the ache and hunger that weren't solely related to my goddamn stomach right now.

After a few more minutes, the breakfast is finally done, the food golden and smelling damn good. I set the plate down on the table before I pour myself a cup of strong black coffee, taking a long, slow sip as I glance towards the door to the bedroom.

My eyes flicker to the doorknob to the bedroom, my inner caveman practically itching to go and wake her up and claim her all damn over again. But I managed to hold myself back, the need to feed her and give her strength after the damn night we'd had overruling my primal instincts... for now.

I take another sip of my coffee, my eyes still fixed on the door. Damn, but I just wanted to damn well wake her up and hear her voice, hear her say my name in that sleepy, soft voice of hers.

The longer I wait, the more damn impatient I become, my inner caveman growing more and more restless as I stand in the kitchen, gripping my coffee cup with slightly tense muscles. Damn it, I'd always had a possessive nature, but it had only gotten damn well worse since she'd come into my life.

Finally, after what seemed like a goddamn eternity, I hear the sound of the bedroom door opening, the soft, sleepy sound of her voice calling out my name.

The moment I hear her voice, my whole body tenses, every muscle going taut like I'm a damn spring coiled to the breaking point. She enters the room, her hair slightly messy, a sleepy, slightly dazed look in her eyes, a simple oversized shirt the only damn thing on her body.

And the damn instant I see her, my inner caveman comes roaring to freakin' life, every last ounce of restraint I've been holding on for dear life going out the goddamn window.

The next thing I know, I'm setting the damn coffee cup down with a 'thud' on the table and striding towards her like a man on a mission, my body moving with a single-minded purpose. My eyes rake over her from head to toe, drinking in the sight of that shirt on her, the fact that she was wearing my damn clothes only making my possessiveness spike even higher.

I'm standing right in front of her in seconds, my hands coming up to grip her hips, my fingers gripping them possessively.

I pull her closer, my hands gripping her hips tightly, almost like I'm afraid she's gonna slip away if I don't hang on as tightly as possible. My eyes burn into hers, my inner caveman roaring at the sight of her looking so damn cute and sleepy, her hair still a bit disheveled, her voice still rough with sleep, and wearing nothing but my oversized shirt, her legs bare and damn well tempting.

"Mornin', darlin'," I say, my voice rough with a mixture of possessiveness and need.

She looks up at me, her eyes still slightly tired and sleepy, but a small smile playing at the corners of her lips as she reaches up and places her hands on my chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns over my skin. "Mornin'," she replies, her voice still sleep-rough and damn well sexy as hell.

I pull her even closer, my arms wrapping around her waist, my hands settling possessively on her back. "Did you sleep well, darlin'?" I ask, my voice a possessive murmur against her hair.

She nods, resting her head against my chest, her face nuzzling into my neck. "Yeah, I slept great... but I woke up missing you," she replies, her voice slightly sulky and adorable.

I chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in my chest, my inner caveman preening at her admission of missing me. "Damn right you did," I say, my arms tightening around her petite frame. "I missed you too, darlin'. Woke up and couldn't goddamn stand not having you in my arms anymore."

I bury my face in her hair, inhaling the sweet, musky scent of her curls, my fingers tracing lazy circles on her lower back, the possessive caveman within me practically damn near purring at the feel of her body against mine.

"Damn, darlin... you have no idea how damn difficult it was to get up and get breakfast ready this morning, instead of pouncing on you and claiming you all over again after last night," I grumble, my voice low and filled with frustration.

I feel her body shiver slightly, a soft little hum of agreement leaving her lips, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my chest, her body pressed against mine. "Mmm, I can imagine... I woke up and almost came out here to jump you myself," she murmurs, her voice soft and a little teasing.

Her words only further stoke my possessive instincts, my hand gripping her hip tighter as I practically growl against her hair. "Damn it, darlin'... don't even say things like that. You're gonna make me lose control again."

I take a deep, shaky breath, my body taut and tense as I struggle against the damn near overwhelming urge to throw her over my shoulder and carry her back to the bedroom and claim her all over again.

"God damn it, darlin... I'm trying my best to hold back, to give you some damn space and let you get breakfast and get your energy up after last night... but you're not making it goddamn easy for me, talking like that and looking so damn cute in my shirt like that."

She lifts her head from my chest, looking up at me with a cheeky grin on her face, clearly enjoying the effect she's having on me. "What, you don't like the way I look in your shirt?" she teases, her hands moving to playfully mess with the hem of it.

The sight of her standing there in that damn shirt, the hem coming down to just above her thighs, the sleeves loose and falling off her shoulders... damn it, she damn well knows exactly how much it's testing my goddamn restraint.

I let out a low growl of sheer possessive need, my hands gripping her hips tighter as I pull her closer until her body is flushed against mine. "It's not that I don't like the way you look in it," I say, my voice low and rough. "I goddamn love it. Seeing you wearin' my shirt, lookin' beautiful and damn well sexy as hell... it makes me wanna claim you all over again and remind you who you damn well belong to."

I lean down, my face burying into her hair, my lips planting a possessive, sucking kiss on the sensitive skin right next to her ear. "But that's exactly the problem," I murmur, my hands caressing her hips, my fingers tracing the exposed skin just above the hem of the damn shirt.

"You look so damn sexy and cute and mine... and I don't want damn anyone else seein' you lookin' like this. I wanna be the only one who gets to see you like this, all sleepy and disheveled and wearing my clothes."

I pull back, my eyes raking over her body again, the possessive caveman within me roaring at the sight of her in my shirt. "Damn it," I growl, my hands moving to push the sleeves of the shirt further off her shoulders, revealing more of her damn soft, fair skin.

"You seriously expect me to be able to think straight when you're standing here looking like this, all sexy and adorable and wearin' my damn clothes like they're your goddamn armor? It's taking everything I have not to just throw you over my shoulder and carry you back to my bed."

I take another deep breath, trying to rein in the overwhelming flood of possessive need and lust that's building up inside me. "But I gotta be goddamn good and let you eat breakfast," I say, my voice still rough with desire, "because I damn well know you need your strength, darlin', after the damn night we had."

I reluctantly move one hand off her hips to point at the prepared breakfast on the table, the food still warm and waiting to be eaten. "Go on, darlin'. Sit down and eat. You gotta rebuild your energy."

I gently maneuver her towards the table, pulling out a chair for her to sit in. Once she's seated, I take the seat opposite her, my eyes fixed on her as she begins to eat. I watch her eat, the way her small, delicate hands hold her fork and knife, the way her lips close around the fork as she takes a bite, the way that damn shirt exposes her legs and shoulders, the damn thing practically falling off her...

I have to clench my hands into damn fists to keep from leaping across the goddamn table and tackling her into my lap.

I try to distract myself by digging into my own breakfast, but I'm damn well, only half-successful at best. My eyes keep gravitating to her, my attention constantly drawn to the sight of her in my goddamn shirt and the way that damn hem keeps riding up her thighs.

I shift in my seat, my pants suddenly feeling tighter than ever. "Damn it..." I mutter, my voice low and strained. "You have no idea what you do to me, darlin'. It's taking every goddamn scrap of self-control I have not to haul you over this table right now."

I take another bite, but my mind is definitely not on my breakfast right now. All I can focus on is the damn sight of her, her hair still a mess, her eyes half-lidded and sleepy, the shirt hanging off her shoulder, exposing an expanse of soft skin...

I take a deep breath, trying to maintain some semblance of restraint. "Finish your breakfast, darlin'," I say, my voice still rough and low. "The longer you sit there, all sleepy and cute in that goddamn shirt, the harder it is for me to control myself."

I shift in my seat again, the damn fabric of my pants feeling more and more restrictive by the goddamn minute. I can feel my inner caveman practically clawing at the very edges of my self-control, pleading with me to just throw caution to the wind and claim her right here and now.

She just looks so damn beautiful and sexy and mine, sitting there in my damn shirt, her body all soft and vulnerable and exposed. And knowing she's wearing nothing else underneath that shirt... damn it, she's making it hard as hell to behave myself.

I force myself to take another bite of my breakfast, but my eyes never leave her. I can't damn well look away from the sight of her, her hair fallen over her face, her bare shoulders and legs on damn near full display, her damn shirt riding up her thighs and slipping off her shoulder...

I can feel my self-restraint slipping with every damn passing second. My fingers grip my silverware so tightly that I'm surprised they don't warp or damn well break.