Page 10 of Claiming Her

Did she think he wanted to? Did she know what the fuck it was costing him? He ignored the blood pumping into his dick, straining for release. Determined to gift her something he’d given no other woman.

“I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

“Are you agentle-man?”

“No. Hell, no. But I’m fucking trying for you. Only for you.”

“The stop fucking trying. I’ve had a gentleman, and he treated me like shit. I don’t want that. Be who the fuck you are. Be a fucking biker.”

He growled and stopped her tirade by grabbing the v-neck of her shirt and ripping it straight down the middle. Her mouth made that damn “o” again, and if he’d been naked, he would have shoved his dick through it.“O,” that.

“Is this what you want? Me, to fucking go wild on your ass. Take you the way I fucking want to? Imprint my fucking name on your pussy walls?”

“Yes.” A fire raged behind the lens of her eyes.

“Dammit, yes. All that and more. Give me who you are.”

Chapter 6

Who was Hannibal? A stranger, but so familiar. He had more to give her—so much more. She knew that in her core. Why would he hold back?

Christian had been a gentleman, a lying cheat, and a user. Using his supposed kindness like a fat juicy worm, she’d gobbled up the bait.

Hannibal thought he was protecting her, but she’d lived in a protective dome all her life. Now she wanted the danger, needed it to make up for the wasted years.

“Give me everything you have with no holding back.”

“Angel,” his Venus flytrap gaze sucked her in. “Do you know what you’re asking?”

“Yeah. I’m asking the badass biker who stomped across Skin Sins with his tattoo half-finished to be that guy. The guy who claims I’m his.”

“You are mine.” His growl roared down her spine and vibrated where it settled at the back of her pussy.

“We’ll see.” she arched her brow. “You’ll have to prove it. Earn it…”

The words caught her throat as he growled a kiss on her lips. Sealing her challenge shut. Thrusting his tongue inside to wreak havoc in her mouth. Taking her mouth while pushing her back down on the sheets.

“You’ll eat those words.”

“And what will you eat?”Was that her, talking shit?Taking her man and telling him what she wanted. If he went wild, it gave her license to do the same. She spread her legs open, making her demand clear. Christian would have refused. Too much of a gentleman to get his face dirty with her love juice.

Seconds ticked by, and her legs drew together. Until Hannibal slammed the heel of his palm between them.

“This,” he snarled. “Gonna eat this dry. Wrench every drop of your taste until my face is drowning in your syrup. Do you taste like syrup?”

Hannibal’s fierce eyes plumbed hers while his palm rubbed rough circles over her mound. Pressing her for an answer.

“I… I don’t know.” Her face flushed as licks of flames suffused it. “I’ve never tasted me.”

“Never had a lover go down on you and give you a kiss full of your flavor?”

The circles stopped while the flames exploded higher. “N… No.” Groaning from the damn laps, she grabbed his wrists, but he shook her off.

“Not gonna stop. Get that out of your fucking head. You’re mine.”

He stood up, wrenched his shirt over his head, toed off his boots, and worked the zipper of his jean down with his briefs. When the head of his dick popped out, she‘oomphed.’Her eyes fixated on his dick while her mouth salivated and drooled.

She had to have it. She scrambled to her knees to grab the girth with both hands, the only way to encircle it. Shaking her braids behind her shoulders and winging her eyes up to his.

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