Page 20 of Claimed By the Mobster
“No.” I drag in a breath like I’ve been trapped underwater. “You’re not bruised.” Thank god. I managed not to bruise her last night.
I will not feel disappointed that I didn’t leave a mark on her. I will not.
“Appreciate you checking.” She toys with the hem of her dress, letting it slide down.
Okay, that’s a bit more air in the room, but definitely disappointing. The sweet curve of the bottom of her arse, damn I’d look at her all day.
“I’d like to repay your kindness.”
“No thanks needed,” I grind out. “And I’m notkind.” I’m a slathering horrible monster.
“Maybe you need someone to be kind to you then. As an example.” She brushes her hand over the obvious bulge in my lap.
“Anwyn,” I say, the warning loud.
“I want to taste you, Ben.”
Ah fuck. She undoes me when she says my name.
“Let me make you feel good.” She leans over me. “Like you did for me last night.”
Words roll around in my head. I don’t speak.
“I could use my mouth. I didn’t have the chance to do that.” A hint of uncertainty, a pinch of yearning. The idea of my girl missing out on anything she wants is unthinkable. She can have everything.
“Go on then.” I barely recognise my voice. There’s authority, yes, but the rasp is all desire. “Get to your knees.”
She slides down eagerly, eyes shining with anticipation.
“Take out my cock.”
I think I intend to scare her, but as her lips part I slide my hand into her hair so very gently. As soft and tender as she deserves, even as I struggle not to shake. Her small hands on my belt. The tightening at my waist, then my trousers settle, looser. The button pops. The sound of the zip is a purr. She takes every movement with tentative slowness. Unfamiliar with a man’s clothing.
She’s so arousing, it’s unreal. The combination of eagerness and innocence.
She shifts and I see the carpet digging into my girl’s knees, andoh absolutely not.
“Stay there,” I bark and I ignore her hurt mewl as I stride off. Cushions. For a second my brain is so fried I can’t remember where in my own house I’d find a goddamn pillow, but I manage and haul two back like a caveman bringing home a kill. I toss them onto the floor.
She looks between me and the cushions and gulps. I don’t know what her over-active imagination has dreamed up, but I point. “Kneel there.”
Her shoulders relax as she crawls over and damn, I didn’t think I could get any harder, but apparently the sight of Anwyn crawling over to kneel and be more comfortable as she sucks my cock has the capacity to make precome leak from my cock. I’m desperate.
So you’d think it would be rough as I stand before her. But while I’m tempted to shove away my clothes, pull her mouth onto my cock and thrust, I’d prefer to savour her expression when she discovers me.
Savage pride at her bravery fills me as she draws down my boxers and her thumb brushes the head. Her eyes go wide as she reveals my length.
I’m beyond being objective right now, but her hands seem little next to my erection. I’m harder than I can ever remember, which is quite something given how I’ve thought of her for the last six months.
“Do you like your man’s cock, darling?” And though her expression was eloquent, a knot constricts in my chest as I wait for her answer.
The smile spreads across her face, lighting her eyes. She leans forwards, gaze fixed on mine and licks the tip. Once.
I jerk. That brief contact of her tongue forces a hiss from me.
“You tease,” I grind out, but there’s so much affection in it that she grins.
“Do you want me to suck your cock, Mr Crosse?”
