Adelina Jameson VR stood before the mirror in a black dress so tight it might as well have been painted on, fishnets drawing the eye up her legs. She was touching up her makeup for a night out when her boyfriend walked in and froze, eyes darkening as they traveled over her.

“You’re not going anywhere dressed like that,” he said, low and dangerous. “You need to learn who owns this.”

Adelina turned, about to apologize, but her racing pulse gave her away. She wanted to be reminded. Wanted to be his.

She dropped to her knees and freed him, taking him into her mouth without hesitation, looking up with wide, submissive eyes. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulled her up, and pushed her toward the couch.

He didn’t ask—he took. One hard thrust from behind made her cry out, her hips gripped like handles as he pounded into her, her ass bouncing with every stroke. She moaned into the cushions, apologies turning to begging, pushing back for more.

He flipped her over and held her legs wide, driving deep, every thrust drawing louder sounds from her throat. When he ordered her to her knees, she obeyed, then climbed on top and rode him with abandon, desperate to prove she could take it.

Total ownership. Total submission.

When he finally seized her hips and forced her down hard, spilling deep inside her, Adelina stayed frozen on top, breathing hard. A satisfied, owned smile spread across her face—reminded exactly who she belonged to.