Page 125 of Wicked and Claimed

He gyrated against her again, slow and calculated—and fatal to her defenses. She gave herself over, unconsciously spreading her legs wider, pressing kisses up his strong neck, and aching to be closer to him.

“Look at you melting for me. That’s it…”

Nash was right; she was submitting. Clinging, even. Despite everything that had happened on this island, some part of her felt safe with him. It demanded her surrender and had her racing headlong toward orgasm.

Heat rose. Need chased it, pulling her body taut. Desire flooded her veins like the most addicting drug.

“More…” Her pleading little wail slipped out as she lifted her hips to him.

“You like me between your legs?”

Haisley didn’t stop to think, merely nodded.

He fisted her hair and tugged, forcing her to look at him. “Say it out loud. Tell me.”

“Yes,” she gasped as their stares met, his dark with need. “Yes…”

“Fuck,” he snarled in her ear as he paused to align his crest with her empty opening. “You want more? Tell me, baby. I’ll give you more.”

He was asking her permission. Unlike that night on the stage, he wasn’t simply taking her. He wanted her to want him. His eyes were begging.

Haisley wriggled against him, trying to join them together. Unless he filled her, she felt as if she’d fall apart. “Yes! Now.”

“Such a good fucking girl. Take every inch of me,” he commanded as he pushed inside her with a groan. “Yes, baby…”

She couldn’t fit all of him, not in a single thrust. But they moved together, driven by the need to not merely join but to connect. He couldn’t hide his clawing need to be one with her any more than she could deny the yearning firing her blood to feel him deep. His expression—like he’d die without her—sent her desire spiraling to a euphoric place where she could only feel him, could only taste his passion, could only smell his lust, could only hear his ragged demands mingling with her pounding heartbeats.

Everything between them dwindled to this moment where all she knew was Nash and the insane ecstasy straining for freedom inside her, about to rip off its chain.

“Oh, my god!” She flailed, frantic to get her arms around him, to pull him close. “I’m… I’m?—”

“Going to come? Fuck.” He pummeled his way inside her again. “Fuck. Yes… Yes! Do it. Now!”

Haisley couldn’t have stopped the orgasm from sweeping over her if she tried. The sensations converged between her legs, then burst, pulsing the drugging opium of ecstasy through her body. It ricocheted from her fingers and toes back to her pussy, which throbbed and contracted and lit up with the kind of pleasure that not only had her screaming her throat hoarse, but dismantled every bit of the facade she’d constructed since she’d been forced to the island.

As Haisley’s orgasm subsided, it wasn’t a blissful glow that took its place. Under Nash’s shuddering, growling body was the rawest form of Haisley. No defenses. No pretenses. No way to stop the gush of tears as he let go and exploded inside her.

Gradually, his harsh thrusts slowed, then stopped. His heart raced against hers as more tears spilled.

What the hell had just happened? What was he thinking? And where did this leave them?

Haisley closed her stinging eyes and turned her face away, even as she felt her pussy still clamping in gentle aftershocks around his slowly softening cock.

Nash grabbed her chin and tugged. “Look at me.”

She was afraid to. He’d stripped her so bare… What would he see in her eyes? Her confusion? A love that defied explanation? Or the shattering secret she’d been keeping from him for two long years?

“No.” She didn’t dare. Everything between them was already complicated enough.

Haisley felt his disappointment before he slowly withdrew and rolled away, leaving her trembling and exposed.

“Shower. Now.” He hauled her to her feet, his touch much gentler than his voice.

She stumbled to the bathroom on shaky legs, the mirror reflecting a stranger back at her—wide-eyed, pale, marked by his hands, claimed by his body.

Nash followed, turning on both the water and the sound system to cover their words before he shoved her in the shower stall and followed.

He planted his face in her neck. “I’m sorry. Gray was?—”

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