Page 44 of Claimed By the Damned

She lifts her hips, offering herself, and fuck if that doesn't make my control snap.

“That’s it,” I mutter, dragging the head of my cock against her slick folds. “Need me to take you, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she gasps. “Take me, Ryker.”

I line myself up, running the thick head through her wetness, coating myself. "No condom," I warn, my voice rough, guttural. "I’m not stopping."

Her breath catches, but she doesn't hesitate. "I don’t care. I want to feel you."

That’s all I need.

With one brutal thrust, I bury myself inside her, stretching her, feeling her walls squeeze me like a vice. She gasps, nails biting into my skin, her body arching, trying to take all of me. I am too big, too thick, and she is so fucking tight it nearly ends me right there.

“Shit, Baby Girl,” I groan, my forehead pressed against her chest as I struggle to breathe. “Feels like heaven wrapped in sin.”

Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me deeper, her breathy moan making my cock throb inside her.

"More."

I give her more.

I fuck her like I am claiming her, every stroke deep, rough, desperate. She meets every thrust, her body opening for me, taking me, hands gripping my shoulders, nails biting as she loses herself.

"You're made for this," I growl against her ear, biting down on her neck as I pound into her. "Made for me."

She sobs my name, her entire body arching off the bed as I slam into that spot inside her that makes her tremble. "Ryker—fuck, I—"

"Come for me," I order, my hand sliding between us, pressing against her swollen clit. "Now."

Her body seizes, a cry breaking from her throat as she shatters around me, her walls pulsing, squeezing my cock like she never wants to let go.

I lose it.

I drive into her harder, chasing my own release, the thought of my cum filling her, taking root inside her, making my vision blur. "You’d look so fucking perfect carrying my baby," I snarl,slamming deep one last time as I come, spilling inside her, marking her as mine.

She gasps, her body shuddering with aftershocks, and I kiss her hard, breathing her in. "Mine," I mutter against her lips, still pulsing inside her. "Forever."

I stay buried inside her, unwilling to break the connection. My grip on her tightens as I lean in, pressing a kiss to her damp temple. "Tell me his full name, Lila."

I feel her body tense beneath me. Her fingers clench against my back, her breath catching. "Ryker..."

I run my palm down her side, soothing but firm. "You’re safe. We’ll protect you. He won’t touch you again. Ever."

A long silence stretches between us before she exhales shakily, voice barely above a whisper. "Nikolai Mikhailov. People call him Kolya. He’s, my husband."

Nikolai Mikhailov. Mikhailov. The name slams into me, instantly familiar. Not justanyRussian name. LA Bratva. Whispers in the community. Bloodshed.ThatMikhailov. A major player. Fuck.

The blood in my veins turns to ice, then ignites with white-hot fury.Married. Tohim. A fucking high-level Russian mob boss. My jaw clenches so hard it aches, darkness twisting inside me—jealousy, possessiveness, and the raw, overwhelming need to obliterate his existence and erase every trace of his touch on her.

The thought of another man touching her, claiming her, calling her his wife—it makes me see red. Especiallythisman. But he lost that right the second he hurt her. Now, she’s ours.

Fuck!

I should care that she’s married to anyone, let alonehim. But all I feel is rage. Possessive, burning rage targeted squarely at Nikolai Mikhailov. Her hands fly up, fingers desperately clutching at my face, framing my jaw as if trying to hold me,to read my reaction, bracing for impact. Like she expects me to push her away. As if I ever fucking would.

"That bastard doesn’t own you," I growl, tightening my hold, my hands covering hers where they grip my face before sliding down to pull her closer. "You belong to us now. Me. Bastian. Ethan. And he’ll find out just how fucking bad it is to try to take something that isn't his anymore."

I roll us over so I'm on my back, bringing her with me, keeping her pressed against me, still buried deep inside her. She settles onto my hips, straddling me, her breath hitching as she adjusts to the new angle. She doesn't pull away, doesn't try to move further. Instead, she leans forward, curling into me, her head resting on my chest, fingers resting over my heart.

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