Marking her? Was he? Sam supposed he sort of was. That was how he got in bed. Dominant, possessive. Possessive was the better term to use, as that was exactly what he was. That much had become terribly obvious from their last go around, where he had told Ruby flat out that she was his. And she was. Here and now, in this bed, she was all his. He would do whatever he wanted with her, just like he would let her do whatever she wanted with him. The only time where the bridges were fully down and he'd let her get her way without question.
It was the screams that did it. Sam had been bordering on, holding out as best as he could, but when Ruby started letting herself go like that Sam knew that he couldn't take it anymore. Growling, almost in frustration with himself, Sam roughly shoved into her one final time before he allowed himself to crash. He let go, shocks of pleasure coursing throughout his entire body.
All night. Ever since she had taken off that shirt. He had been waiting for that. As Sam leaned forward, gasping for breath, he knew that it had been well worth it. Ruby always made it that way.