Page 4 of Mine to Claim

My gaze continues to wander over him as I adjust myself, noticing how goosebumps prickle the kid’s bare skin.

Devon shivers but meets my gaze defiantly when I finally look at his face. "There. Happy now, perv?"

I bite back a growl at his insolence. "Let's eat before I put you over my knee."

His eyes narrow but his traitorous stomach rumbles loudly. Hunger wins out, and he turns to stomp off down the hall.

I watch his taut ass disappear, that primal urge flaring to follow and claim what's mine. To take and mark and make him surrender. To make him forget anyone else who’s been there before me.

My jaw clenches tight at the last thought.

In the kitchen, I toss him a rag to cover up as I cook the quail trapped earlier this morning.

Devon watches me as I work, his blue eyes floating from the meat to me, seemingly particularly taken by the tattoo sleeve running up my left arm.

I turn to the side to hide my smile, pleased he’s looking, that he’s really seeing me.

But the pleasure turns to a dull ache as I finish dressing the quail and truly take him in. Yes, I’d seen he was thin and haggard earlier but not how thin, how emaciated he truly is.

If he ever met up with Carrionites, he’d never stand a chance.

It’s all I can focus on as I cook the quail, then plate it and place it before him. He grabs it, going on to inhale every morsel, eyeing my plate next. With a sigh, I slide it over to join his empty one. He demolishes that too, gulping water desperately between mouthfuls.

“How long you been by yourself?”

Devon shrugs. “Long time.”

My eyes narrow and I cross my arms over my chest, leaning back in the chair. He swallows whatever he was chewing and huffs. “Since I was about twelve.”

“Fuckin’ hell.” If Devon lasted this long, I’m the one who underestimated him. No way he would’ve survived all these years without being somewhat dangerous and resourceful.

“What’s it to ya?” He shoves the last pieces of meat into his mouth.

I get up from my chair and make my way over to his side of the table, gripping his nape when the last bite of food is gone. “Just wanted to get to know you a bit.”

He flinches but doesn't pull away, pulse fluttering under my palm like the wings of an ensnared bird. “Don’t see you with anyone, old man.”

“Alone just like you. But not for as long,” I say, steering us toward the bedroom.

At the bedroom door, he pauses, a hint of nerves showing through the attitude. "Let's just get this over with."

I press against his back, desire mounting, and nip his ear. "Eager to have me tame that feisty mouth?"

He shivers but lifts his chin. "You wish."

I chuckle, then open the door and give him a light shove inside. His false bravado doesn't fool me. “Oh, the things I want to do to you, boy. The ways I’ll take you apart piece by delicious piece.”

And have him begging for more before the night is through.

Chapter 3

"Onthebed.Stomachto the mattress."

Devon hesitates, shifting on shaky legs as reality sinks in. For a moment, I think he might bolt for the door, but he moves to the bed, limbs stiff, eyes filled with unease.

Once he's settled, he clears his throat, face buried in the crook of his arm. "Don't hurt me too much back there, okay?"

My eyes widen, one brow raising. "Have you done this before?"

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