Page 43 of Claimed By the Damned

She hesitates, just for a second—long enough for my heart to hammer against my ribs—before stepping toward me, closing the distance I created. Relief crashes through me, hot and fierce. The second her body presses against mine, I wrap a hand around the back of her neck, tilting her chin up.

“Tell me what you want,” I murmur, my thumb brushing over her racing pulse.

She swallows hard.

I smirk. “Use your words.”

“I want you,” she whispers, voice shaky, breathless.

“Damn right, you do.”

My lips crash down on hers, claiming her in a kiss that is all teeth and heat. She gasps into my mouth, and I swallow the sound, pulling her impossibly closer. My hands roam down her back, gripping her hips, molding her against me.

She fucking melts, like she was made for this, made for me.

I back her toward the bed, my grip firm, making sure she feels my control. The backs of her knees hit the mattress, and I press her down, crawling over her, caging her in.

“You like this,” I murmur against her lips, dragging my mouth down her jaw, to her throat. “I'm not gentle like Ethan. I take what’s mine. You like giving yourself to me, don't you?”

“Yes,” she breathes, her fingers threading through my hair, tugging lightly.

I reward her with a slow drag of my teeth along her pulse point, my tongue soothing the sting. She shivers beneath me, arching into my touch.

I fist the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head in one swift motion, tossing it aside. My gaze roams over her, drinking in every inch of bare skin, the soft curves, the way her chest rises and falls as she waits for my next move.

“Perfect,” I mutter, my hands skating over her ribs, down to her waist.

“Mine.”

Her breath hitches at the possessiveness in my voice, and fuck if that doesn't make me even harder.

I take my time stripping her, every inch of exposed skin claimed by my mouth, my hands, my teeth. By the time she is bare beneath me, she is squirming, desperate, a needy whimper escaping her lips.

“Please,” she gasps, her hands gripping my shoulders.

“Please, what?” I tease, brushing my lips along her collarbone.

“Ryker…”

I grin against her skin. “That’s right, Baby Girl. Beg me when you want something.”

She whimpers, and I can’t hold back any longer.

I strip off my own clothes in record time, then settle between her thighs, pinning her. She trembles beneath me, anticipation thick in the air.

I kiss her again, slower this time, letting her feel the weight of my control, my need.

“You’re safe,” I murmur against her lips. “You’re mine.”

I press her into the mattress, my weight anchoring her as I trail my hands down her body, mapping every inch. But I am barely hanging on, the need to be inside her clawing at my control. I need to make damn sure she is ready, shaking, desperate, drenched for me.

Her nails rake down my back as I kiss my way lower, teasing her, dragging my tongue along her skin just to hear her gasp. Her thighs tremble as I spread them wider, my fingers tracing the slick heat between her legs. My cock throbs at the way she clenches around nothing, she's so desperate for me.

"Ryker," she breathes, arching her hips, silently begging. "Please."

I groan, sucking a bruise onto her inner thigh. "So, fucking wet for me, Baby Girl. You want me to fill you up, don’t you?"

She nods frantically, fingers twisting into the sheets. "Yes. Please."

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