As I step back into his study, the familiar scent of leather and old books envelops me, a stark contrast to the foreign environments I've been navigating for the past two weeks. The room feels charged, as if it's been waiting for my return. He stands by the fireplace, his posture commanding even in the dim light cast by the flickering flames. His eyes lock onto mine, dark and intense, promising retribution for my absence.

"Welcome back," he says, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine. "I trust your trip was... enlightening?"

I nod, my throat dry, unable to form words under his piercing gaze. He steps closer, his presence overwhelming the space between us. His hand reaches out, fingers brushing against my cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through me.

"Missed me?" he asks, his tone teasing yet demanding.

"Desperately," I confess, my voice barely above a whisper.

He smirks, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Good. Now, strip for me."

The command is abrupt, but I obey without hesitation, my hands trembling as they reach for the buttons of my blouse. Each piece of clothing falls to the floor, discarded like my inhibitions. When I stand before him, naked and vulnerable, his eyes roam over me with a possessive hunger.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, stepping closer. His hands cup my face, thumbs brushing over my lips. "But you're not here just to look pretty. You're here to be claimed again."

His words send a thrill of anticipation through me. He guides me to the plush rug in front of the fireplace, where the heat from the flames warms my skin. He kneels behind me, his hands gripping my hips tightly.

"Spread your legs," he commands, his voice gruff with desire. I comply, feeling the cool air against my most intimate parts.

He positions himself behind me, his erection pressing against my folds. "Tell me how much you missed this," he demands, his breath hot against my ear.

"I missed it so much," I gasp, my body arching towards him. "I missed you inside me."

With a growl of approval, he thrusts into me, filling me with a force that takes my breath away. I cry out, the sensation overwhelming yet incredibly fulfilling. He moves with a deliberate rhythm, each thrust deeper than the last, claiming me anew.

"Feel that?" he growls, his voice thick with lust. "That's my claim on you, my mark. You're going to carry my legacy."

His words echo in my mind, fueling my desire. I push back against him, meeting his thrusts with an eagerness that surprises even me.

"Yes, yes!" I moan, my body responding eagerly to his ministrations. "Fill me, please, I need it!"

"That's it," he encourages, his pace increasing. "Beg for it, show me how much you want to conceive my child."

The room fills with the sounds of our passion, my cries and his grunts mingling with the slap of flesh against flesh. He angles his hips, hitting spots inside me that make my vision blur with pleasure.

"Almost there," he whispers, his voice strained. "So close to giving you everything."

I can feel his control slipping, his movements becoming erratic as he nears his climax. With a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside me, his release flooding me with warmth and fulfillment.

We stay locked together, his breathing heavy against my neck, as he slowly withdraws from me. I feel empty without him, a stark reminder of the power exchange that has defined our encounter.

As he pulls away, I catch a glimpse of something in his eyes—a flicker of temptation. He stands, reaching for the discarded condom wrapper, but then hesitates, his gaze locked onto mine.

"I can't help thinking... " he murmurs almost to himself, "what if I didn't put this on?"