Claimed by Him

  He leaned over and set his mouth on her nape, breathing hard against her ear. He slid the hand from her waist up to fondle her breasts, alternating between them. Little whimpers of arousal tore from her throat as he played with her nipples.

  “This way I’m the one who touches you,” he said huskily as he licked her ear. “And teases you. And watch your lovely ass lift up to me as I fuck you.”

  “Yes,” she cried.

  With a low, guttural sound, he held her hips in both hands and rammed into her without mercy, his every effort now on his hips and the powerful slide of his cock into her snug grip. Chloe was drowning in pleasure, her every nerve and cell in her body attuned to Graves and only Graves. Nothing else existed but him. Inside her. Fucking her like mad. Making her teeth almost knock together.

  “You look beautiful, Chloe…so damned beautiful I’m going to fuck you again after I’m done…”

  He pumped harder, gaining momentum, his fingers digging into her waist as he drove her faster and faster to that tornado of pure white pleasure.

  When that powerful orgasm slammed her full-force, Graves folded over her body and sank his teeth into her neck and suckled her until she almost yelped in a delicious werewolf-like claiming, trembling in his arms as he buried deep and shuddered with her, and then Chloe went limp and whispered his name in utter lazy gratitude.

  This time she hardly remembered anything after. Except that when they lay back on the bed and she was dozing off to sleep on her side, Graves was cooing words into her ear, his hand coasting all down the length of her side, and his cock still inside her.

  Graves watched Chloe’s naked sleeping form from a chair by the window, feeling a warm little buzz of pleasure crackle all over him, a buzz of complete male thrill and satisfaction that he had never felt with a woman before. He was aching to claim her again but would feel like an asshole if he disturbed the little sleep she’d been able to get.

  He’d never in his life slept with a woman before. He wanted to go there and lie next to her and watch her sleep from up close, but he’d never done that, either. He felt big and full inside his bones, like he didn’t fit inside himself anymore. God, she was so beautiful, he’d sleep in a chair as long as she stayed and slept in his bed forever.

  They’d been at it all night and she was tired. She’d sucked his cock so well he’d come within two minutes and then he’d made her come twice just to show his appreciation. But he was afraid he would wear her down, was afraid he was too…obsessed with her. Touching her, tasting her, aching to goddamn kiss her.

  She stirred all of a sudden. “Graves.” Her husky murmur whispered across the shadows, and she reached out groggily in his direction. “I miss you.”

  He didn’t hesitate and promptly went to her, sliding under the covers to find they were warmed by her body heat. Her long, smooth legs grazed his, and his cock jolted upward once again, and this was exactly why he’d gone to that chair. It was too stimulating…the contact of their skins. He wasn’t used to it. To snuggling. To sleeping with a woman. To be touching without fucking. Now he couldn’t get his cock to get down, couldn’t stop feeling like a teenager.

  She snuggled back against him when he gingerly wrapped his arm around her waist, and her butt came up against his straining dick. He groaned.

  “Chloe.” He wanted it bad. He wasn’t used to physical contact unless it was for mating purposes, and now he was primed and pained for her. Damn, he should let her rest, he really should. But he found himself gently nudging his erection against her luscious butt cheeks so that she would feel how ready he was. “Chlo?” He nibbled her earlobe and caressed her breast, and found the nipple peaked and straining between his fingers.

  “Chlo, can I fuck you?” he murmured.

  She grasped the hand he’d been using to caress her breast and dragged it downward until he held her luscious little cunt within his palm. His eyes almost rolled to the back of his head as her damp heat dripped all over his probing fingers.

  “Sweet Jesus, you’re soaked.”

  Her voice was raspy with sleep. “I was embarrassed to tell you and was waiting for you to come back to bed on your own.”

  “Christ, I was trying to be considerate with you. I was about to go stick my cock in the fridge to cool the motherfucker.”

  “No, Graves, give it to me. I want it. I want you.” She shuddered when he thumbed her clit while his erection stole between her butt cheeks and teased her pussy with a nudge from the tip. “Oh, please,” she cried.

  “Shh, it’s coming, princess.” He rolled on a condom then held her pinned on her side and pushed inside her, growling in her ear, “Like that?”

  Her breath caught as he entered, her sheath so snug he groaned, and she moaned and arched her head back. “Yeah.”

  “Yeah?” He thrust harder.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  He bent his head and licked the tender spot between her collarbone and her neck, cleaving deeper into her. Harder. He started up a rhythm. Pounding into her, smelling her, feeling her, fucking her…she started moaning, gasping please, yes, please, Graves, and he caressed her clit with his thumb and then pinched the flesh between two fingers and upped the tempo. He bit into her neck and shoulder, licking her, growling as the pleasure consumed them once more.

  They seemed to fall asleep, but in the morning Graves woke up to find Chloe delineating each and every muscle on his back. His throat thickened at the exquisite touch, like she thought she would break him if she touched him a little bit harder.

  He tried to keep his eyes shut but it was torture. He wanted her to stop, but he wanted her to go on. He’d never opened the door to this, had thought it was a weakness, a stupid need for a “hug” or a “touch” was overrated and stupid. Now Chloe touched him while she thought he was asleep, and he wanted to die and he wanted to live and he wanted to bury himself inside her again.

  He cracked an eye open and saw her bite her lower lip, and he wanted to eat it. Taste it. He remembered all those tacky kisses that had left him tasting of stale alcohol and tobacco and everything dirty. He’d never tried to kiss anyone again. But he was obsessed with Chloe’s mouth. With that kiss she’d pushed him to give.

  He couldn’t stop touching her lips, looking at her mouth, wondering if he’d imagined it tasted so good, afraid to taste more of her and becoming addicted. If he kissed her again, he’d be screwed, and he was already so deep in over his head he felt like he was drowning.

  Chloe’s heart picked up speed when Graves’s eyes fluttered open…and her hands froze on his abdomen. He watched her with heavy eyelids for a long, breath-clogging moment. Then his breathing changed, and lines of determination tightened his face. He was going to kiss her. Suddenly the awareness that he was thinking about it made her breath become fast and choppy, her eyes blur with anticipation.

  He rolled gradually to his side, and the move forced Chloe to somehow lie back down. His eyes felt like a hot brand on her mouth as he lowered his dark head. She held her breath. He set his lips so lightly over hers, it felt like a whisper. She almost thought he would pull back soon. But he didn’t.

  Her heart thumped harder as the plushness of his mouth molded to hers, and she opened ever so softly, trying not to move or scare him off, letting him find his way by himself.

  He made a ravaged groaning sound and settled his body against hers. He turned his head and gingerly flicked out to taste her. The kiss was light and explorative, and it sent the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl. She fisted the sheets at her sides, so eroticized she could have had an orgasm while Graves kissed her like this, almost like he was discovering kissing for the first time.

  He cupped her face and turned again, but this time he covered her mouth hungrily and plowed his tongue so deep she felt his thrust in her womb. Her veins sang with his kiss, and a tremor of ecstasy ripped through her as his bold, damp taste invaded her.

  His hands convulsed and he shuddered, groaned, and pressed his erection meaningfully against her. His ton
gue meant business now, taking no prisoners. He kissed her so hard she helplessly opened her mouth and let him devour her, twirling her tongue around his while her pussy drenched between her legs.

  She’d never been kissed like this, with such hunger, such reverence, teasing her vagina into clenching at each damp, hot flick of his strong tongue. His mouth didn’t become softer as he kissed her, but harder, wilder, more ravenous—exhilarating her.

  She shivered, felt like he had at last opened himself to her. Awash in awe, she slid her hands up the bulging muscles of his biceps and around his shoulders, her swollen, deliciously kissed lips moving against his when she spoke. “Can I touch you, Graves?” Ravenous, he continued nibbling at her lips and suckled her tongue and squeezed his own tongue around hers. “Graves, can I please touch you?”

  He slid an arm around her waist and pressed his fingers into the small of her back, then he squeezed her against his body and groaned, “Touch my face.”

  She stroked his jaw with her fingertips and he tensed and slammed his eyes shut as though he were in nerve-racking, toe-curling, bone-churning ecstasy.

  Chloe wanted to explode in a million pieces and never be the same again. She felt so very weak with this one concession. It was insane the way she wanted him and she couldn’t stop. Instead she wanted him more with every second she felt him, smelled him, spent here, with him.

  Graves devoured her mouth again, kissing her roughly with his tongue, and she trembled as he rocked his cock against her stomach. “Touch me. All of me,” he said in a guttural voice that made her womb ripple hotly and her heart somersault.

  “Oh, Graves,” she breathed. A ribbon of tenderness unfurled inside her until she was a mass of quaking emotion.

  She slowly felt her way along his hard chest with unsteady hands, glorying in the silken feel of his bare torso, every one of his muscles incredibly defined and snug beneath his tight, gleaming, tanned skin. He groaned feverishly and tongued her mouth hard, pulling her tighter against him.

  Chloe could smell herself, the cream in her sex, feel the steady little pulses within her. She squirmed hungrily beneath him, making shallow noises as she kissed him back like a wanton woman, her body screaming empty and desperate to have him inside her.

  She gasped between his kisses. “Graves, you feel so good, I’m going to orgasm just touching you.”

  He groaned and brought his mouth to her ear; his tongue hot and wet. “Chloe, my God, my first kisses…they weren’t like yours. Jesus.”

  He licked the shell of her ear, then her dimple, her jaw, her lips again, his mouth warm wherever it touched, his velvet tongue lapping thirstily at her skin. “I didn’t like the taste of my first women. I couldn’t wash it off my mouth for days,” he murmured. Then he drew back to look at her, and his eyes glowed between his lashes and made her feel as if she’d been swallowed entirely. “But you, sweet Chloe…”

  “Tell me how it was,” she said, aching to know more of him. Everything. “Your first times.”

  His eyes were violently tender on her face as he caressed her sides with his hands, his strong fingers molding her like clay. “My foster parents had nine children, and I used to share a bed with three. I couldn’t even think with all that noise, I guess I’m just not a people person…All five boys were forced to eat together, bathe together, and it drove me fucking nuts.”

  “Somehow I don’t see you in a big family, Graves.”

  “Neither did I.” His lips twitched for a moment, then he shook his dark head. “I had to leave there, Chlo. I was so damned desperate to be alone. Not that getting the hell out of there was even an improvement, at first. There were nights when I bunked with alcoholics and drug addicts and prostitutes, and I’d wake up wherever I slept to find whores fondling me. People of all ages got raped when they were drunk or drugged, even while they slept.”

  An awful sound tore from within her. “Graves, please don’t tell me you were…!”

  “I wasn’t.” He set a kiss on the bridge of her nose. “I watched every damned glass of water I took and made sure it wasn’t spiked. To this day, I still don’t drink alcohol.” He brushed her hair back with a gentle swipe of one hand and a half smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes, that smile, and seemed darkened by his memories. “I slept most of the day so I could be awake at night, when everything was shit around me. Some nights I spent scraping up metal parts from dead electronics, working on my first prototype, and when I felt the need for sex, I found that I could take care of it if I set some limits for my…partners. I wasn’t interested in getting intimate with those whores, Chlo…but by the time I hit fourteen I had needs like everyone else.”

  Her throat closed, and she nodded in understanding. While Chloe had been showered in hugs her whole life, swamped in praise, in flowers, with a doting big brother to protect her and a set of loving and giving parents…all granting her a life that would make a Disney princess’s trajectory look easy. Yes, while Chloe had cried over a torn Barbie costume, Graves had been surviving out in the streets, all alone. Unsafe at every moment. On guard even as he slept.

  His first time had been with a whore, but he had damned well made sure that Chloe’s first was on a bed of roses he’d made for her. A stab of pain pierced through her, and her eyes stung—a fact that he seemed not to miss.

  “Shh. It’s all right, princess. You grow used to it. I never felt sorry for myself,” he whispered. His eyes fell to her lips again, and then his thumb traced the path of his eyes and gently caressed her. “I never wanted intimacy. I never even craved to kiss a woman after those first few times. It became a habit not to, and I saw no reason to change if it worked well for me. But then you happened.”

  He framed her face within his large palms, and Chloe couldn’t even speak, was falling in love all over again with him this very moment, in love with this little glimpse of the darkness that had given birth to this man, in love with the look of complete and total lust and need in his eyes, in love with Graves Buchanan.

  “Chloe, Jesus, how I crave you…how I fucking crave you.”

  He made a low, hungered sound as he bent his head and nuzzled her face, while at the same time, he reached between her legs and pressed the tip of his thumb into her clit. Her legs quaked, and her thighs felt liquid as she parted her knees wider and curled her legs around his hips in wanton invitation. She rubbed his small, dark nipples with her fingertips. “Graves…kiss me again. I crave you like crazy, too.”

  His warm breath bathed her face as he reached into her nape and fisted her hair in his hand, and then he gobbled up her mouth with his own, his groan deep and heady, as if he was blissfully lost in what he was doing and never wanted to be found.

  She pinched his nipples in the way he’d pinched hers, and when he shuddered under her caresses, tiny spasms of emotion seized her. He kissed her mouth again and again, both of them feverish as they rubbed, groped each other, and all the while he scraped his hardness against her pussy lips.

  “I’m going to kiss you all morning, Chloe…all fucking morning. Until your mouth is raw and swollen and you’re begging me to stop.”

  She shuddered at his words, the sexual promise in them. Chloe could feel the black hunger in him like something palpable; in the whistle of his breath, the gruffness of his voice as he continued to whisper her name against her mouth, over and over again. Chlo. Sweet Chloe.

  Drowning in sensation, she clung to his large, heavy body as tightly as she could, feeling so connected to him she could almost swear she could hear his heart beat at the same rapid pace, contracting and pumping the very same instants as her own. Her pussy burned to be penetrated by him. Completely possessed, mind body soul…

  A bell rang in the distance.

  Graves lifted his head from her mouth as though in confusion, then when the bell rang again, he dropped his head and breathed against her face, “Activate face recognition,” he said, and bent to continue with the fierce, wet onslaught of his mouth on hers. Crushing her body to his, he pressed his l
ips to hers with an animal groan that was muffled by the butler’s English accent saying—

  Mr. Daniel Lexington to see you in the lobby, sir. Activate the elevator?

  Graves nibbled at her lower lip, catching it between his teeth before releasing it, and suddenly Chloe didn’t know how she acted so fast, but hearing her brother’s name while she was naked in his best friend’s bed getting deliciously fucked just clicked on an alarm button—even if it took a second or two to register.

  She pushed Graves’s leaden weight off her with surprising force and started searching for her dress on all fours on the floor. Her mind spun frantically as she realized she’d never been away a whole night without letting someone know where she was. She glanced up to find Graves sprawled on the bed, motionless.

  His lips were red and swollen and his eyes cloudy and he looked completely drugged from their kiss. The sight of him only made her realize her mouth felt on fire, too, and all of her body trembled with unfulfilled lust.

  “Graves!” she hissed, trying to keep her head on.

  He reacted and shook off the daze, grabbed his pants, barked a command to his butler, and pointing a possessive finger in her direction, said, “Get back in my bed, Chlo. I’ve got this. You’re not going anywhere.” She noticed that he was barely able to zip his pants back up over his erection, and suddenly not jumping back into his bed like he’d told her to was the hardest thing she’d ever done.

  “But I’m sure he’s looking for me, I’ve never been away like this!”

  “Shh. Just calm down and power off your iPhone.”

  “It’s already off! But what if he saw my car downstairs? I’m so stupid, I should’ve just left a note.”

  Graves was already storming outside to greet Daniel, shutting his bedroom door behind him.

  Zipping up her dress and with her heels in her hands, Chloe pressed her ear to the door and felt awash with guilt when she heard her brother speak. He sounded so agitated. “We can’t find Chloe and I need you to help me track her, goddamn it. We found a message that looks a lot like blackmail. It took me a couple minutes to piece the letters together but it reads: ‘I will pick you up at midnight.’ And now no one knows where the fuck she is. My parents have already started a search—”