Page 4 of Claimed By the Boss

Exhaustion from the day urges me to fall on the pile of blankets and sleep. Instead, I force myself to stand over the sink in the tiny kitchen and eat the beans cold from the can.

Only once I wash the stink of the club from my body do I allow myself to lie down, but sleep eludes me.

Wide awake now, I stare up at the large stain in the ceiling over my mattress.

How did this become my life?

I’m so tired of this existence, tired of struggling and scraping by with nothing to show for it.

I want more. I want security, warmth, proper nutrition, and rest. I want to feel safe and protected, to have someone care for me the way I never could for myself.

Most of all, I want Nolan.

Just thinking of him sends a spike of heat through my body, easing the gnawing emptiness inside.

What would it be like to be held by him? Would he be a gentle lover? Or rough?

I close my eyes and picture the strength in his broad shoulders, the coldness in his green eyes when they swept over me. He would be possessive. All-consuming.

I slip a hand under my thin T-shirt, tracing my hand up my stomach, my fingers bumping over the notches of my ribcage from too many nights spent without dinner. As I find my nipple, pinching and squeezing it, a gasp escapes my lips.

My other hand slides into my pajama bottoms to palm my semi-hard dick, stroking hard like I imagine Nolan would. Desire curls in my hips, and warmth seeps from my ass, slick coating my entrance, to ease the way for my Alpha.

Would he be big? I curl a knee up and drop my hand lower, to the needy pucker just past my taint. I circle the tight ring of muscles, slick coating my fingers.

What would it feel like to be filled by Nolan?

I push my fingers inside, and my back arches with pleasure at being filled, but it’s not what I need. Not deep enough, not thick enough. Just. Not. Enough.

My other hand moves up to my nape guard, my fingers slipping beneath to scratch the sensitive place on the back of my neck where I want Nolan’s teeth.

I leave my needy entrance to return to my dick, stroking fast and hard, the wet sounds joining my moans in the dingy apartment as I picture a different room, something that would suit Nolan.

Nolan on top of me. Nolan’s hands replacing mine.

I come into my fist, shivers shaking my body, but it’s not enough.

My eyes open, and I stare at the mold spots in the corners of my room. This will never be enough.

I wake with a start, disoriented from too little sleep.

For a moment, I can’t remember where I am. Then I feel the lumps in the mattress beneath me and the damp, musty smell in the air. My apartment.

Blearily, I look toward the window, where dawn turns the sky a dingy gray. I had fallen asleep less than an hour ago.

What woke me?

I vaguely remember a pounding sound. Are my neighbors fighting?

The pound comes again, and I realize with a jolt that it’s coming from my front door.

Heart in my throat, I scramble for the baseball bat I keep next to my bed.

“Open up, Leo!” The angry shout sounds like the man stands in the room with me, the thin wood of the door a flimsy barrier to hold him out. “I know you’re in there!”

My pulse spikes as I recognize Gino’s voice, and I hastily tuck the bat out of view. Greeting the loan shark with a weapon would be the height of stupidity.

My legs shake as I crawl from the bed and hurry to open the door a crack.

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