Page 6 of Claimed By my Best Friend

She tugs at her hand, trying to free the grip I have on her, but I tighten it, taking a step toward the girl and blocking her escape. There is something clearly bothering her beyond the damn tattoo. “I can’t read your mind, angel. Talk to me.”

Her eyes light up with something I don’t dare hope for before she quickly looks away. “Don’t call me that,” she demands, her voice shaky.“And let go of my hand!”

“Not until I get to the bottom of this.”

“The bottom line is that I asked for a tattoo, and you refused. Why does it surprise you that I would be upset by that?”

Because there is more to it than just the tattoo. I saw something in her eyes moments ago, and I find myself wanting to test the waters to see if I am correct.

My eyes drop to her pouty mouth, and before I can stop myself, I reach up and press my thumb over her lower lip, gently tugging it down. I wait for her to pull away in confusion, anger, or shock, but she doesn’t. Quite the opposite. Her tongue sneaks out and tentatively grazes my thumb, her beautiful moss-green eyes set on mine as she does so. “This is really important to you, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she whimpers, her eyes growing heavy.

Stop, Darrell. This is a dangerous game!And yet, I can’t. This is a new side of Paula I am seeing, and it fascinates me. This needy side of her that begs for something she has no idea could wreck her.

Icould wreck her.

“Tattoos hurt, angel. Most people regret them eventually. And you already hate needles.” My eyes drop back down to thatpouty mouth, and I swallow back the urge to lean down and kiss her. “Why put yourself through that for something you might regret?”

Now I’m the one talking in double entendres. It’s not just the tattoo I’m afraid she’ll regret. If we cross the line we are dancing on, I’m terrified Paula will come to regretmetoo.

“I won’t regret it,” she breathes, her eyes growing hopeful and needy.

Her breathing hitches when I lean down, bringing my mouth closer to hers. So close her breath hits my lips, and it’s making my head spin out of control. “No one gets a tattoo thinking that at some point they’ll hate it.”

“B-but what if I don’t regret the tattoo? What if I fall in love with the tattoo and decide I want it to stay on me forever?” Paula leans closer to me, no longer eager to escape the room. The move has her tits pushing against my chest. “I’ve wanted this for ages, Darrell. But it has to be you.Please.”

Hearing her beg so needily frays my control. Fuck! There is no going back after this.

With a feral snarl, I slam my mouth down on hers, and she practically melts against me. My heart thumps in my chest as I trace my tongue over the seam of her mouth, urging her to open for me. She makes a deep mewling noise at the back of her throat before finally letting me in.

It’s meant to be a small, chaste kiss to sate my curiosity and curb my obsession, after which we’ll both laugh it off, but the second I feel the press of her velvet smooth lips on mine and the innocence of her kiss, I know there is no going back.

Something wild—perhaps a beast that has always been inside of me—breaks free, and then I am devouring her mouth. Ilet go of her wrist to bury my hand in her hair, fisting a handful and slanting her head to deepen the kiss. Fuck. She tastes and feels so much better than I could have ever imagined, and I realize just as fast that I have made a mistake.

I’ve just let myself cross a line I swore I never would.

This should be enough. I shouldn’t want more than this, but now that I’ve tasted her, I can’t stop. God, I can’t pull away from her mouth. I’m addicted to everything about this woman. From her pleased little sighs when our tongues stroke together and the taste of her mouth to the way she feels pressed up against me. I can’t get enough. I fear I’ll never get enough.

I’m rock hard, my cock pushing painfully against my zipper and my balls tight and aching with the need for release.

I have never felt this way about any woman before. Sex has always been about release and seeking pleasure, but in this moment, I find it hard to breathe. My heart is pounding in my ears and my body is vibrating with the need to possess this girl. Claim her. Fuck her so deep and hard, mark her with my scent until it’s permanent on her skin. More permanent than a goddamned tattoo.

“Stop me, baby,” I rasp heavily, breaking the kiss to trail my mouth along her jaw. Her head falls back, exposing her long beautiful neck. “Push me away and leave.” I lean in, greedily licking at her throat, soaking in her sweet floral scent. A mix of jasmine and peach.

She drops her hands to my chest and fists my shirt. “I don’t want you to stop.”

I drop my hand from her hair and coast it down her body, palming her tits over her shirt, and she moans, her back arching as she leans into my touch. Fuck, I’ve wanted to touch her for toofucking long to be satisfied by feeling her over her clothes. I need her naked.

I grab each side of her shirt and tear it open, sending buttons flying all over, but my focus is on her pale tits. My throat goes dry when I see her mesh bra, one that exposes the rosy pink of her nipples.

Fucking hell, her tits are ripe and juicy, filling out the bra in a way that makes my hands ache with the urge to touch them and mouth water with the desperate need to taste those succulent nipples.

“Goddamnit, baby, you’re perfect,” I choke out, flattening her to the wall before leaning down to lick her through the mesh of her bra, wrapping my mouth around a tight bead and sucking feverishly. Paula cries out when I roll a pebbled bud with my tongue before moving to the other. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” I say as my hands drop to her shorts to pop open the button, then tug down the zipper so hard it nearly breaks. My head is spinning, and I am slowly losing the strength to pull away.

I want her.

I have wanted her for so fucking long, but I managed to keep my hands off. Christ, I knew this would happen if I touched her.

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