Page 30 of Claimed by Him

He grabbed the hem of my shirt, and I put my hands on his, pushing them down to the waistband of my pants before I reached for his zipper. I turned my head to take his mouth as I worked his pants open, but he immediately took control, his tongue tangling with mine.

I lifted my hips as he yanked down my pants, then I helped by kicking them off one leg. His teeth worried at my bottom lip as he pulled my panties to one side and pushed a finger inside me. I hissed, biting his lips, nails digging into his narrow hips, but I didn’t even consider asking him to stop. If a single finger felt this good, I couldn’t wait to feel what it was like to have him filling me.

I tugged on his pants, reaching around behind him to grab his ass with both hands. Fuck. It was just as tight as it looked. I pushed the pants lower until I could finally see that thick, hard shaft. Damn. He was big all over.

I cursed as he pulled his hand away from me, but then I realized that he was reaching into his back pocket. He tossed his wallet onto the top of the desk and retrieved a condom. I leaned forward and bit his chest through his shirt, earning a curse. His hands didn’t even pause as he opened the packet and rolled the condom on, and I knew he wasn’t going to take it easy on me unless I asked him to.

No way in hell was that going to happen.

He wrapped his fingers around the back of my neck, his thumb under the side of my jaw that wasn’t throbbing. His eyes locked with mine, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He held there for a moment, and when I didn’t say anything, he eased the first inch inside me.

I breathed out a curse that turned into a muffled yell when he drove forward, filling me completely.

Concern etched his features. “Did I–?”

“No,” I said quickly, breathless. “I’m good. Please, don’t stop.”

And that was the end of our conversation. I clung to him as he slammed into me, each stroke jarring my bruised ribs. Air burst from my lungs in pained breaths, but the ripples of pleasure that came from the friction of his body against mine helped even more than the Vicodin.

I squeezed my eyes closed, focusing on absorbing the conflicting sensations as I moved my body to meet his. There was no rhythm, no finesse, just friction and throbbing as all the right parts rubbed all the right ways, fit in all the right ways. I dropped one hand between us, fingers easily finding my throbbing clit.

We were both wound too tight to draw things out, and something like that would’ve made things far too intimate, so we both chased the end with little regard to anything else. As my orgasm hit me hard and fast, I gave myself over to it, grateful for the escape, however brief.

Jalen’s mouth crashed into mine again, his kiss almost harsh as his body jerked, driving deep enough to make me gasp. A second orgasm followed the first. Or maybe it was the first getting stronger again. Either way, it sent pain and pleasure rocketing through my body, my pussy clamping down on his cock as he came with a grunt.

We stayed like that for several seconds, giving our bodies the opportunity to come down before we moved apart. Or, more accurately, he took a few steps back, then turned away. I stayed where I was, needing a few more moments for my battered body to recuperate. Neither one of us said anything, but it wasn’t until he fixed his clothes and then headed for the door that I realized he didn’t intend to say anything at all.

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