Page 54 of Claimed
She looks away, her face darkening in the dimness. “Sorry. That was stupid. I shouldn’t have—”
I reach and grip her arm. Her eyes peer sidelong at me from under her long, thick lashes. I pull. She makes a small sound but clamors into my lap.
Her slim frame is cool from the air conditioning. But I can’t tell if it’s causing her trembling or not.
I tuck her head under my chin and wrap my arms around her. Her cheek rubs over my chest. The motion stirs my body to life, heating me. I close my eyes and force my mind elsewhere.
Now is most definitely not the time forthat.
My fingers comb through her thick hair. Slowly, the trembling eases and she relaxes further. “Do you want to talk about it?” I ask into the quiet.
“No.” She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”
I snort and squeeze her a bit. “You will never hear me complaining, Onyx.”
Her fingers grip my shirt and I marvel at the strength in her. The resolve. “You’re too much of a gentleman for that.”
“Me?”
She leans back and gazes up at me. “Yes you.” I shift, uncomfortable with how perceptive she is. Her lithe frame raises and she kisses my jaw before climbing from my lap. I can only stare at her.
In the dimness, there is muscle under her tan skin. Her ass is thick, strong. The curve is perfect, plump and round before tapering to her thighs. In comparison, her waist is tiny, dipped in and petite. I raise my eyes to her pert breasts and the dark, beaded nipples. My mouth salivates.
Her smile is slow but sultry. “Your eyes are glowing, Caine.”
I lean back on my hands. “Just admiring the view.” And may god help me, but it is one hell of a view.
She turns a little, and her ass flexes.
I want to sink my teeth into the muscle there. To fill my mouth with her tan flesh and mark her as mine. Hell, her ass can be my pillow.
Desire lights my gut up despite feeding only hours before.
“If I told you to bend over the bed,” I broach without thinking, “would you?”
A shiver leaves her nipples so taut, I can almost taste their sweetness on my tongue. “Yes.” The word is tentative, raising my gaze to hers.
And in their smoky, amber depths, I see what Horan was talking about.
The trust.
For several long moments, I battle the fire that realization causes. The heat.
I have taken hundreds of women in my lifetime. Nearly as many men. I have seen desire, lust, jealousy, anger.
But never trust.
My pulse speeds and I climb to my feet to tower over her. “Ruin wants to speak with you.”
She winces at the empty quality of my voice, and I want to take it back.
But I don’t.
It’s the only thing keeping me from taking her in all the ways I want to. All the ways that I know will leave her a shaking, screaming mess beneath me. Because Onyx trusting me is dangerous.
Trust leads to emotion. Emotion breeds attachment. Attachment can only stir love.
I love one woman.
