Page 28 of Claimed By Rage

Innocent, comfortable air, unlike the heavy exhales and groans Rage makes when his face is buried between my thighs.

My thigh twitches, and I bite my bottom lip to fight the ache of desire deep in my belly.

Damnhim and his raging-fucking-hormones getting me all riled up. Sweat slicks my skin. I’ll need a shower after this, ormy makeup will clog my pores. While I’m mentally tallying all of the nighttime routines I’m going to miss—face wash, floss, hair brush, toothbrush—I hear a rush of water spilling to the shower floor, followed by a groan that rumbles across the room.

I know that sound.

I know that soundverywell.

My nipples harden. Heat pools between my thighs. If I listen closely enough, I can hear Rage’s movements from behind the shower door, the steady, quick tug of skin and the deepgrowlsthat spill past his lips.

Fuck. Me.

Myasshole-not-boyfriendis jerking off six feet away.

I bite my lip and clench my eyes shut tighter.

Ican’tenjoy this.

He’s a horrible person. The last man on the planet that I want to be around, let alone stuck with for eight hours tonight.Sleeping next to.I should file a police report. Stalking, breaking and entering, assault. I’m sure the cops could come up with more charges than that for all three of them. I could use my brother’s name for even more leverage—hell, I could usemylast name for leverage.

Rage might be powerful underground, but I’m powerfulaboveit.

Another groan spills past his lips, and all of that alleged power feels oceans away as he drags me under with him. My body tingles and my pulse races, the ache between my thighs roaring to life.

I’m used to the way he sounds when he’s hot and bothered, but it’s different this time. We’re not rushing through an orgasm before the next work rush. This is oddly… intimate.Close.Even when I sucked him off earlier, it wasn’t aboutusthen. It was a show of force to prove to me—and the entire room—who I belonged to.

But right here and now, I’m the only one listening. He isn’t putting on a show for the masses.

He’s putting on a show for me.

I open my eyes and search for him through the haze of steam in the air and streaks of water on the glass. Although the image isn’t perfect, I can clearly see his profile and the hard strokes of his hand on his shaft. He isn’t facing the wall like he was earlier.

He’s facingme.

His liquid gaze burns into mine, lips parted, jet black hair slicked back, one hand on his cock while the other presses against the glass separating us. Once he notices me watching, he swipes his hand through the condensation and clears the view so I can watch unobstructed. A smirk catches on his lips. He leans toward me, his shoulders pitched forward, his hips rocking in time with every stoke.

My whole body shivers. I press my thighs together and wiggle on the countertop, seeking friction but finding none.Dammit.I tug on my bindings, but they don’t budge, the leather digging into my wrists and the chain clinking against the faucet.

Rage’s smirk is blazing hot, his breathing ragged as he notices my struggle. “Say you want me,” he rumbles deep in his chest, “and I’ll make you come. Isn’t that what you want? My mouth on your pussy? My tongue flicking your clit?” He shudders, gripping his cock tight, stroking harder, slower. “I can make you feel good. YouknowI can.”

Hatred burns through me. I detest everything about this man, from his wicked mouth to his unrivaled confidence. The way he jerks me around, cuffing me, slapping my ass,turning me on.

I’m burning alive from the inside-out, and it’s all his damned fault.

I keep my mouth shut.

Rage stops jerking off.

He turns off the water and steps out of the shower, not bothering to dry off, and slinks closer to me. He takes a deep breath and pinches his bottom lip between his teeth, groaning as his eyes rove my body. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Celia.” He drags in a shaky breath, reaching out to drag his fingertips down the front of my dress and across the generous side boob peeking out the front, all the way to the bottom of the V sitting over my sternum. He presses his palm flat against my ribs, his expression serious as he feels my heartbeat.

It skips beneath his touch.

He smiles, and it’s a beautiful, broken thing that takes my breath away. Slowly, he pulls my breast free from my dress, then does the same for the other side. Palming my tit, he massages it in his warm hand. “Don’t you want me, Celia?” Lowering his head, he sucks my nipple into his mouth, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body. My back arches and I choke on a whine that never quite breaks free. He groans, the vibration of it making my toes curl.

“Your body says yes, but your mouth keeps saying no. Why is that?” Rage doesn’t look up at my face. He plays with my breasts, sucking and plucking my nipples into sensitive peaks between his lips, his teeth, his fingers, driving me into a frenzy.

I grind my hips against the counter, whimpering as desire slicks between my thighs.God, he’s insufferable.

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