Page 57 of Claimed by Him

Twenty-Seven

“I don’t wantto be alone tonight,” I said as Jalen walked me up to my door. Technically, the apartment above the office was mine now, but I couldn’t bring myself to go inside yet. I’d get there, but not tonight. “If you’re okay with that.”

He followed me inside, tugging me to a stop even as he pushed the door closed behind us. He wrapped his arms around me, and I settled against his chest with a sigh.

“I’ll stay with you as long as you want,” he said. He kissed the top of my head and held me for a minute longer before letting me go. “Why don’t you go sit down? Are you hungry? I’ll get you something to eat.”

As he walked toward the kitchen, something low in me clenched. I was hungry, but not for food. I needed something more. Intellectually, I knew that sex after a loss was natural, a whole affirmation of life thing, but I’d never really experienced it before now.

“I don’t want to sit down,” I said, “and I don’t want food.”

He turned around, a puzzled expression on his face. “Is something wrong?”

I shook my head. “Just thinking about what I really do want.”

“What’s that?”

My heart thudded against my ribcage, but I wasn’t going to chicken out. I’d never done this before, but if I could do it with anyone, it was him.

His gaze followed my hands as I reached down and pulled my shirt over my head. He breathed out a curse, but I could barely hear him over the blood rushing in my ears. I reached behind me, numb fingers fumbling with the hooks in my bra. As it dropped to the floor, my chest tightened until I could barely breathe. A part of me couldn’t believe I was actually doing this, but another part of me was glad I finally had the guts to do it.

He came toward me slowly, but I didn’t see any disgust or revulsion on his face. If anything, he wore an expression that looked an awful lot like awe.

“Damn,” he muttered.

For a moment, I thought he was commenting on the scar, and that would’ve still been better than anything I ever would have thought anyone would ever say about it. Then his fingers lightly traced across the tops of my breasts, and I realized what was actually holding his attention.

I flushed, heat flooding across my skin even as my nipples tightened into two hard little points. I’d touched myself, but it wasn’t the same. I’d had men touch my breasts before, too, but always over clothes, and always worrying about whether or not they’d seen or touched my scar. But Jalen, he’d already seen it. And he didn’t care about it. All he cared about was paying attention to my body.

I moaned as his fingers tweaked and rolled the sensitive flesh. Definitely not the same as touching myself. Fuck. I closed my eyes, and my head fell back. I’d never imagined that I was missing this much by limiting how someone could touch me, but this…

His tongue circled my breast, and my eyes snapped open. I grabbed the back of his head as he wrapped an arm around my waist. He held me steady, tracing wet patterns across my skin, then blowing cool air. My skin prickled, goosebumps spreading despite the heat coursing through me.

The hand on my back moved up my spine, then back down to the top of my ass. I was vaguely aware that he was touching the end of my scar, but he didn’t say anything, and neither did I. He shoved his knee between my legs, using it to help keep me steady. When his lips closed around one throbbing nipple, I understood why.

With a hard pull of his mouth, he sent electricity straight from my nipple to clit, igniting everything between. I cursed, my body shifting without thought, the movement pushing his thigh up against me. I shivered at the pleasant friction, rocking my hips against him for more. He chuckled, the vibration against my nipple my new favorite sensation.

Until his teeth got involved.

The hand on my back guided my movements as I rubbed on him, and his teeth worried at my nipple, the combination exactly what I needed. I’d been wound tight for what seemed like years, pressure bubbling just below the surface.

“Come for me,” Jalen said. He bit down, tugged, released. “Come for me, and I’ll take you to bed.”

My pussy clenched at his words. I wanted that. Damn, I wanted it. Wanted him. Inside me.

“Come, Rona.” His voice had an edge to it. “I’m so fucking hard right now. I need you to come, and then I can fuck you.”

Most men would’ve assumed I wanted to be comforted with something soft and sweet. Made love to. Not fucked. But he knew me well enough to know that what I needed right now, what would actually comfort me, was fucking.

He shoved his hand under the back of my skirt, palming my ass, squeezing it. “Don’t think about it. Do it.”

He moved his mouth to the side of my breast and bit down – hard – and worried at the skin, sucked on it. Marked it. He pushed his leg more firmly against my core, and I whimpered.

“J…” I panted. “J…J…”

And there it was.

“Yes!” I cried out as I rode his leg, taking myself up and over the edge. I fell forward, trusting him to catch me, and he did. He held me there, helping me eke out every drop of pleasure until I finally went limp in his arms.

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