Page 38 of Claimed By A Blue Eyed Menace

I clawed at his button-down, trying to get closer, trying to take more, but he was already in control, kissing me deep, teasing me with his tongue, making me need him even more. My body was on fire, my mind spinning. I couldn’t wait to have him inside me again.

And something about the way he carried me off toward the bedroom, his lips still owning mine, told me he was about to give me exactly what I wanted. My heart thudded rapidly in my chest, anticipation pooling deep between my thighs as his strong grip tightened around me. He kicked open the bedroom door effortlessly, striding inside like he owned every inch of this penthouse—me included.

He tossed me onto the mattress, my body bouncing against the soft sheets. I barely had time to catch my breath before he stood over me, those icy blue eyes heavy with lust and possession. My mouth went dry. This man was dangerous, and yet I couldn’t help but provoke him. “Don’t think this means you run shit,” I breathed defiantly, propping myself up on my elbows and gazing up at him. “Just because you got some good dick doesn’t mean—”

He grabbed my ankles suddenly, pulling me roughly to the edge of the bed, silencing me mid-sentence. Shooter’s hands were everywhere, gripping my thighs, spreading my legs apart, his touch firm and unyielding.

“You love talkin’ shit,” he growled, voice low and husky, eyes burning into mine. “Let’s see how much mouth you got left after I fuck the attitude outta you again.”

My breath hitched, heart slamming into my rib cage. Heat flushed my entire body as I met his gaze with a challenging stare while peeling off my sweatshirt. “Prove it.”

A slow, dangerous smirk crept onto his lips as he peeled off my silky shorts, tossing them carelessly aside. My pulse quickened as he kneeled between my thighs, his breath hot against my skin. I shivered, anticipation almost unbearable. His tongue traced a slow, torturous line up my inner thigh, teasing me mercilessly. I squirmed beneath his touch, pride slipping as my need for him grew unbearable.

“Shooter, stop playing,” I demanded, voice shaky.

“Ask nicely,” he commanded roughly, gaze locked on mine as he hovered inches from my aching center.

My stubbornness flared, fighting the submissive instinct he effortlessly drew out of me. “I’m not begging you, Shooter.”

He chuckled darkly, gripping my hips, pinning me down. “Oh, you gon’ beg tonight. And you gon’ mean every fuckin’ word.”

Before I could snap back, his mouth descended on my pussy, tongue circling and tasting, claiming me with ruthless expertise. My back arched instantly, a sharp moan escaping my lips as he devoured me hungrily, relentlessly. His tongue plunged deeply, expertly teasing my clit with each heated stroke. I writhed beneath him, nails clawing desperately at the sheets.

“Oh, my Godddd!!! Shoooooter, fuuuuckkk!” I moaned helplessly, gripping his head tightly, pressing him closer. My thighs trembled violently, pleasure building until it bordered on agony.

“Exactly,” he growled again, lips glistening with my wetness. “Tell me whose pussy this is.”

Stubbornness cracked beneath raw desire. I gave in, pride dissolving instantly. “Yourssss. Fuck, it’s yours.”

His grin was triumphant as he rose swiftly, stripping off his shirt and pants with ruthless efficiency. My eyes roamed hungrily over his sculpted muscles, tattoos, and the massive, throbbing dick that he freed from his boxer briefs. My mouth watered, craving him more than I cared to admit.

He crawled over me, capturing my wrists, pinning them firmly above my head. His dominance was clear. There was no room for defiance tonight. I struggled playfully, but his grip tightened, his face inches from mine, hot breath mingling with my own. “You done bein’ a fuckin’ brat?” he rasped against my lips, pressing his cock against my slick entrance, teasing, torturing me further.

“Fuck you,” I hissed defiantly, challenging him again.

He smirked darkly, his eyes flashing with menace. “Nah, babygirl, I'm 'bout to fuckyou.” With one powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside me, stretching me completely. I gasped sharply, nails digging into his shoulders, pain and pleasure fusing into something electric, consuming. “You still wanna talk shit?” he growled, setting a punishing pace, his hips slamming into me, every thrust hitting that spot perfectly.

“Oh my God,” I whimpered, head thrown back. Shiiiittt…“

His rhythm was merciless, possessive strokes filling me up, marking me as his with every thrust. He leaned down, his mouth claiming mine roughly, tongues tangled in desperation. I bit his lip, drawing a hiss from him that only made him fuck me harder.

“This is what you want?” he asked, his voice deep and ragged, dripping with possessiveness.

“Yessss,” I cried out, surrendering completely. “Fuck your pussyyyy!!”

“That's right,” he snarled against my throat, sucking, biting, marking my skin. “Don’t ever fuckin’ forget this shit mine.”

He flipped me effortlessly, flat on my stomach, and drove himself deeper inside me from behind. Slowly. Deliberately. His slowing it down only drove me crazier, and he knew it. Shooter gripped my chin, turning my head as my eyes rolled backwards. “Don’t fuckin’ play with me, Parker,” he groaned roughly.

“Okayyyy!” I screamed, fingers clutching the sheets desperately, pleasure nearly blinding me as my face hit the pillow. “God, Shooter, don’t stop!”

He gripped my hips and lifted me up, pulling my back against his chest as his strokes became faster and deeper. His mouth brushed against my ear, voice low and deadly. “Cum on this dick, Parker. Right fuckin' now.”

His command sent me spiraling, my orgasm hitting like a violent storm. My vision blurred, body shaking uncontrollably as I shattered completely, gasping his name over and over, pussy clenching tightly around his dick. He groaned harshly, burying himself deeper with raw, possessive thrusts as he came, his warmth spilling inside me, sealing his claim.

We collapsed against the sheets, chests heaving, sweaty bodies tangled. Shooter’s grip around me was still firm, possessive, letting me know there was no escape. He brushed my hair from my damp forehead, lips grazing softly along my neck.

“Keep testin’ me, Parker,” he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. “You already know how this shit gon' end every single time.”

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