Page 71 of His Ruthless Claim

“Look at me,” I demand, my hands framing her face. Her amber eyes meet mine, and I see the fire there, the desire that matches my own. “I want you looking into my eyes while you take my cock so well."

She nods, her breath hitching as I push into her, slow and deliberate. Her body welcomes me, tight and warm, and I groan, my forehead pressing against hers. “Fuck, Skye,” I growl, my voice strained. “You feel perfect.”

Her legs wrap around my waist, her nails digging into my back as I move, deep and steady. Every thrust is deliberate, every sound she makes a victory. “So good,” I growl, my voice rough with possession. “My perfect girl.”

“Yours,” she gasps, her body arching into mine. “I was made for you, Luca.”

I kiss her, hard and demanding, my hands gripping her hips as I drive into her. She’s close, I can feel it in the way her body tightens around me, in the way her breath comes in sharp gasps. “Come for me,” I demand, my voice low and rough.

Her climax hits her hard, her body trembling under mine, and I watch her fall apart, my name spilling from her lips like a prayer. I don’t stop, not yet, my thrusts deep and steady, drawing out her orgasm until she’s trembling with the intensity of it. Her body is still pulsing around me, her breath ragged, and I know I’ll never get enough of her.

I grip Skye’s hips, flipping her onto her stomach in one swift motion. Her breath hitches, her body arching as I drag her ass up toward me. Her skin glows in the moonlight, smooth and perfect, and I run my hands over her curves, memorizing every inch of her.

“Luca,” she gasps, her hands clutching the sheets, her voice trembling with need.

“One more,” I growl, my voice rough, my hands gripping her hips tighter. My eyes rake over her, the way her body shivers under my touch, the way she’s completely surrendered to me. “You’re so fucking perfect, Skye. You take me so well.”

She whimpers, the sound sending a jolt of heat straight through me. I can’t hold back anymore. I slam into her, hard and deep, and she cries out, her body clutching me like a vice.

“That’s it,” I murmur, my voice a mix of praise and command. My hands move to her waist, holding her steady as I pound into her, each thrust driving her closer to the edge. “You feel so fucking good, baby. So tight. So mine.”

Her moans are music to my ears, each one sending a surge of pride through me. I lean over her, my mouth near her ear as I fuck her with everything I’ve got. “You’re going to come for meagain,” I demand, my voice low and rough. “I want to feel you fall apart around me.”

“Luca,” she gasps, her voice breaking as her body tightens, her back arching. She’s close, so fucking close, and I’m not going to stop until she shatters for me.

“Look at you,” I growl, my hands gripping her hips harder, driving into her with relentless force. “So fucking beautiful. So perfect. You’re mine, Skye. All mine.”

Her climax hits her hard, her body trembling, her scream muffled by the sheets. I don’t stop, not yet, my thrusts deep and steady, drawing out her orgasm until she’s gasping for breath, her body still quivering under mine.

I’m close, so fucking close, and I grip her hips tighter, my eyes locked on the way her body moves with mine. “Come with me,” I growl, my voice rough with need. “Let go, Skye. I’ve got you.”

Her body tightens around me, and I can’t hold back anymore. With a low growl, I slam into her one last time, my own climax crashing over me like a wave. My body trembles, my grip on her hips bruising as I fill her, the intensity of it stealing my breath.

I collapse over her, my chest heaving, my body still pressed against hers. Her skin is warm under mine, her breath coming in sharp gasps, and I kiss the back of her neck, my lips lingering on her skin.

“Mine,” I whisper, my voice rough, my hands sliding over her body possessively. “Always mine.”

She turns her head slightly, her amber eyes meeting mine, and the fire in her gaze matches the hunger still burning in me. “Yours,” she murmurs, her voice soft but steady. “Always.”

35

SKYE

The bell chimes as Maria sweeps into my boutique, her curls bouncing with each step. She's carrying an armload of wedding magazines, and I can't help but smile at her enthusiasm. The space has transformed into wedding headquarters over the past few weeks, with fabric swatches and flower samples covering every surface.

"I found the perfect shade." Maria spreads a length of champagne silk across the counter. "What do you think?"

"It's gorgeous." I run my fingers over the fabric. "And it'll complement the bridesmaids' dresses perfectly."

Jazz strides in, bringing her signature confidence and a burst of energy. "Please tell me we're not doing another round of color comparisons." She drops onto the velvet settee, crossing her legs. "I swear if I have to look at one more shade of beige?—"

"They're called neutrals," Maria corrects, but her warm eyes sparkle with amusement.

Kendra follows, already shaking her head. "Girl, you know damn well Jazz wouldn't know a neutral if it slapped her in the face." She perches on the arm of the settee. "Remember when she tried to convince us hot pink was appropriate for a funeral?"

"It was a celebration of life," Jazz protests.

Mikayla emerges from the dressing room in a half-pinned bridesmaid dress, careful not to disturb the delicate beadwork. "I think it's romantic." She twirls, the fabric swishing around her ankles. "Though maybe we should add more security for the actual wedding? Given everything that's been happening..."

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