Page 75 of Wicked and Claimed

God, yes. This was everything she’d missed. His insistence. His intensity. His command of her body and soul.

Finally, Nash bottomed out inside her. He stilled for a moment, his forehead pressed to hers, their ragged breaths mingling in the space between them.

“You’re real. This is real.”

She knew exactly how he felt. “Yes. Yes…”

“And it’s so fucking good.” The pained moan tore from his throat.

Then he began moving again, and Haisley lost herself in the rhythm of their bodies coming together. Nash’s hands seemed to be everywhere at once—gripping her thighs, palming her breasts, cupping her face with surprising tenderness.

Haisley met him thrust for thrust, pouring every ounce of her unspoken love into their connection. She traced the strong lines of his back, relishing the flex of his muscles beneath her fingertips. She dug her nails into his shoulders as the pleasure built, marking him.

As if he was determined to return the favor, he bent to her, sinking his teeth into the sensitive flesh between her neck and her shoulder, biting down just hard enough to make her swoon. He sucked, dragging her flesh into his mouth as his tongue laved her like a favorite candy. It would leave a mark, and the fact he couldn’t stop himself, that he wanted the world to know that he’d taken her, sent her tumbling toward a bliss she hadn’t known in way too long.

While he repeated the process on the bare cap of her shoulder, he thrust into her insistently, pounding at her slow and deep as if he couldn’t merge with her enough, as if he wanted their two bodies to become one. Desire made her head swim as she twisted and angled her hips to welcome everything he gave her.

And he knew her so, so well, dragging the head of his cock over her G-spot and reawakening her need with a flurry of tingles until she was biting her lip, clawing his back, and crying out in desperation. “Nash!”

“Yes, baby. My cock is inside you. Anytime I’m filling you tonight, you come. Over and over. Show me how much you want this.”

“Yes!” she warbled mindlessly, spiraling higher.

“Prove this pussy is mine,” he snarled in her ear, banging her with another bed-rattling thrust.

“Yes. Yes…” she panted. “It is. It’s yours.”

He crashed into her again, again, tightening the ache only he could sate. “Tell me that you’re mine.”

Haisley hoped she didn’t regret this, but she couldn’t hold back. “I am. I’m yours. I always have been.”

“That’s fucking right. Come.”

In his arms, she gathered and swelled, then exploded in a crescendo of sensation and need. She clung to him as the world blurred, leaving only Nash as her reality. With every demanding stroke, he drove her up and higher, far beyond a place where things like breaths, time, or the past mattered.

She soared, peaked, and floated, saturated by pure bliss. Other than pleasure, she only knew Nash—his scent, his perspiration, his thrusts deep inside her as he forced her to ride the high of her orgasm while his gritted teeth and harsh fingers told her the effort to hold out cost him dearly.

She coasted the downhill slope of her climax with a replete sigh, but Nash was nowhere near done.

With a low growl that sent shivers down her spine, he pulled free from her clasping pussy. His teeth grazed her collarbone, nipping and soothing in turn. Haisley’s fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close, silently begging him not to leave her.

Nash gripped her hips, the hard planes of his body pressing into her soft curves as he began blazing a trail of kisses down her body, worshiping every inch of her with lips, tongue, and teeth.

Haisley’s heart thrashed and trembled as he shimmied down to cup her breasts and take them, one after the other, into his mouth. She reeled at the pinch of his fingers, the scrape of his teeth, his groans that vibrated through her body.

This was everything she’d dreamed of for the past two years, yet so much more intense than she’d recalled. She probably didn’t deserve this pleasure from him. The weight of her secret pressed at the edges of her consciousness, but she pushed it away. Right now, there was only Nash, only this moment. She needed him in a way she never let herself need anyone.

His mouth encompassed her nipple again, and Haisley cried out, back arching off the bed. Nash’s hand splayed across her ribcage, holding her in place as he alternately lavished attention on her swollen tips. His touch was reverent yet animalistic and possessive, making sure she felt both adored and owned.

“Please,” she whimpered, needing more. Needing what he silently promised as he worked his way down her body, his lips brushing across her abdomen, his tongue flirting with her navel, before his teeth made an impression on her hip bone. She hissed at the sting, reveling in his insistence as he wriggled down her bed. He laved and nipped her inner thighs before he inhaled her, eyes closed as if he’d been anticipating this moment forever.

Then Nash lifted his head, his eyes dark with desire and some emotion that made Haisley’s heart race. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly lowered his head, his intent more than clear.

Haisley’s breath caught at the first swipe of Nash’s tongue against her clit. The jolt of desire jetted tingles to her toes as the ache began pooling between her legs again, as if she hadn’t come mere minutes ago. He did it again, lingering over her most sensitive spot. She keened. Her hands fisted her sheets as he devoured her with single-minded focus, worshipping her pussy and drawing out every gasp and moan.

As the pressure and pleasure built, Haisley tossed her head back, helpless in the face of his overwhelming need. How had she survived two years without this man? Without his touch, his taste, the way he made her feel utterly cherished and desired?

He was unstoppable as he drove her up again, until she gasped and clawed and begged him for relief. Just one more lash of his tongue, and her world would explode in a bright, white-hot crescendo somehow even stronger than the first.

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