Page 74 of Claimed

Holding me open, he fucked me like a doll. His brutal momentum pushed me down the bed, the sheets scouring my back, until I grabbed the bars of the headboard. I held on, absorbing his thrusts. I needed to touch him. My hand glided over his muscled back. I ran it up and down, addicted to feeling them contract.

The painful grip on my thigh released, and my legs hooked over his back. He lowered himself to my chest. It felt so incredible. Achille didn’t make love like a hitman. He was sweet. Stroking my hair. Kissing me. Cradling me like glass.

His tongue flicked mine, and everything built up inside me exploded. I spasmed around him, my nails digging into his flesh.

His eyes closed as a sheen of sweat formed on his forehead. He came moments later with a deep groan. His cock twitched, filling me with warmth. After a while, he lay on top of me. We kissed and held hands. Then he rolled over, spooning me.

Before long, something hard poked my butt. He lifted my leg and entered me. He fondled my breasts as he fucked me a second time, stuffing me with so much cum it spilled over my thighs. That began a sleepless night. A whirlwind of tongue, clashing mouths, and frenzied fucking.

We managed to stumble into the shower, only for him to take me to the bed as soon as we’d washed. I drifted off, but he woke me up to shove me onto all fours. Then he bent me over the table. His tongue swirling my nipples, he made me come. When I was too sore to continue, he ate me out and forced his cock inside me, somehow making me orgasm again.

All night.

We defiled every inch of that little cabin. When I thought he’d finished, he’d drag me over his cock. He was ravenous. In between his earth-shattering orgasms, he held me and stroked my hair. He wiped me with a damp cloth, cleaning all the fluids only to dirty me again. When light peeked from the horizon, Achille finally collapsed on the pillow.

I lay curled on his side. I was sweaty, trembling, my body deliciously sore. He nuzzled my ear and kissed me. Then his arms slackened and his deep breathing filled the air. I traced the hands cradling me, marveling at the pleasure he’d given me. Pleasure I’d greedily taken, eager to forget the pain.

My heart pounded. “Kill?”

He stirred. “S’matter?”

I adjusted myself so that we faced each other. “What if those guys show up while we’re here?”

“We’re fine.”

“But how can you be sure?”

His half-slitted gaze roved over me. He bundled me in his arms and wrapped his legs around mine. Then he kissed my head.

“Sleep.”

The command worked like a magical spell, easing the tension in my jaw. My nose touched his neck. I inhaled his scent and closed my eyes, wishing he could hold me like this forever.

TWENTY-SIX

VIOLET

Golden light streamed into the cabin, adding warmth to the rustic walls. Birds outside chirped. A coffee machine gurgled in the kitchen. A masculine scent clung to my pillow. I reached for him, groping the sheets.

“Kill?”

The floorboards creaked, and he stood at the doorway. I nearly died at the mouthwatering sight. Shirtless, wild hair, his gray sweatpants low on his waist. A devastating smile.

“Morning, Bumpkin.”

I rubbed my eyes. “I see sleepin’ with you hasn’t improved your manners.”

Winking, he slid a cup over the nightstand. “It’s a term of endearment. Like darling, but with more character.”

I sat upright, yawning. “When you put it that way, I reckon I can live with it.”

“Come on. Breakfast is getting cold.”

“If someone hadn’t kept me up all night, I might’ve gotten up earlier.”

He squeezed my thigh. “You didn’t let me sleep, either.”

True.

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