Page 32 of Claiming Sarah

He turns to me, lips stretched into a wide smile, placing the red liquid glistening in a crystal glass next to me.Without acknowledging the completion of his task, my hands grip the hem of my shirt, pulling the material up and over my head, repeating the motion until I’m sitting on the stool in my bra and pants. Cool glass kisses my fingers as I wrap them around the stem of the wine glass.

Blue pupils expand, pink tongue flicking out to lick dry lips. His eyes hold a question I don’t answer, taking a sip from the glass. Buried deep within me is the enjoyment of his childlike curiosity and eagerness to please. I’ve noted his tense posture and fidgeting fingers. Tonight, I plan to reassure him I’m his

25

A GOOD BOY

ZAIDEN

She’s everything. My vision narrows to just Sarah, blocking everything else out. Her back arches, dark hair brushing the kitchen table. I don’t need further instruction, hooking my fingers in the waistband of her pants. Her hips raise, aiding the slide of her scrub bottoms down her legs.

My fingers release the soft material, eyes narrowing on her lace-covered sex. Saliva collects in my mouth for a taste, but I wait for my Sarah like a good boy. Her hips wiggle slightly in invitation, a red liquid-filled glass rising to her lips.

While her throat swallows, downing the cherry-colored liquid, I dive forward, jerking her panties out of the way. I groan when her taste bursts on my tongue, blood rushing to my cock. But Sarah is in charge, commandeering my body. Her moans encourage me, a hand drifting to my hair, pressing my face firmly into her wet haven.

I lose myself in her flavor, greedily swiping my tongue into every corner of her sweet pussy, wetness staining mychin. My tongue works furiously, flicking back and forth across her swollen clit in rapid movements. My fingers glide in and out of her wet hole, moans teasing my ears, sliding down my spine. Sarah is all mine, her pleasure held in my hands.

Her legs press tightly against my head, nearly blocking out her rising moans. My mouth doesn’t quit working until a loud moan shatters the illusion of quiet, ripping free from her throat. Her thighs threaten to crush my skull. My tongue keeps sampling her flavor, riding out the aftershocks that bring her hips up and down against my face.

When she goes limp, I pull back, removing my mouth from the best dessert to ever land on my tongue. Nothing can compare to her flavor or the hold she wields over me. My body eagerly awaits her next instruction, listening to the sharp exhales leaving her body.

Dazed, green eyes land on me, a soft smile fixed to her lips. She sits up, hair swinging forward, partially shielding her breasts. A jerk of her head points toward the stool next to her. Obediently, I slide onto the chair, eyes tracking her lithe body moving from her stool to straddle me.

Fingers glide through my short hair, her breath coasting across my face. Our faces are inches apart, sharing the same oxygen until her hands wrap around my cock, holding it steady as she slowly lowers herself onto it. My head falls back, eyes closing.

My nails dig into her hips. Pleasure zips down my spine, balls tightening. She feels too good, hips rocking forward as she adjusts to me.

“Dayton,” she moans, snapping my eyes open to lock gazes with my raven. A pretty, red flush crawls across her skin.

“My raven,” I croak, pushing and pulling her hips back and forth to help her find her pleasure. If she starts riding me, I won’t be able to hold back for her. Her face eliminatesthe space between us, ripping a groan from me when she raises her hips and slams back down onto my waiting cock.

She’s going to wreck me. It’s written all in her eyes, a challenging glint hardening into emerald chips.

“Sarah,” I plead, shaking my head as she does it again and again. Tremors snake their way into my legs, balls drawing up tight.

Her lips graze my ear. “Be a good boy and come for me, Dayton.”

Fuck!

“Sarah!” I shout, her name leaving my lips as pleasure slams into me, shoving me off the edge with my cock still plunging in and out of Sarah’s pussy.

She keeps riding me hard, never stopping while my cock jerks within her, filling her up. My hand grips her nape, pulling her face down, our mouths meeting. My tongue sweeps in, plundering what’s mine. Her moans get trapped between us, mingling with my groan when I feel her walls contracting around my cock, undulating in a wave.

She keeps gliding up and down my softening cock, wringing every drop from me before slumping against my chest, face pressed into my neck. A warm feeling burns my insides. My arms tighten around the treasure lying within them.

I’m home. My little raven scraped out my innards, replacing them with her, nestling into my heart.

Afan spins lazily above me, drawing my eyes repeatedly. Sarah’s head rests on my chest, fingers tracing circles on my skin. Her silky hair curls around my fingers as I twirl them, hypnotized by her and the low droning of the fan.

A sigh leaves her and my eyes close, fear rippling beneath my skin. The night was going so beautifully after we made a mess of each other downstairs. I shared my first bath with Sarah shortly after, hair still damp and resting on a pillow. The intimacy in bathing with her poured gasoline on the low burning sensation in my chest.

I think I have a name for it, but her sigh sends dread flooding my veins, tensing beneath her.

“Do I want to know everything you’ve done?” she asks in a soft voice.

“No,” I whisper, silently begging her to not pry. Her cheek rubs back and forth across my chest. I wait, muscles refusing to relax.

“Where did you go after you burned the house?” I blink at the question, wondering where the line of questions leads.

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