Page 11 of Claimed By the Masked BRATVA
Her eyes meet mine, wide and trembling, but she doesn’t flinch. “I don’t want anyone else.”
The admission detonates in my chest. A low, primal sound rips from my throat as I crash my mouth down on hers, kissing her with savage hunger. She clings to me, nails digging into my shoulders, hips lifting in a silent plea.
I line myself up and push slowly, carefully, watching every flicker of her expression. She’s tight, impossibly so, her body gripping me like she was designed for me alone. Her gasp turns into a moan, raw and unguarded, and I nearly lose it right there.
“Fuck,” I snarl, forcing myself to still, to give her time. “You’re going to ruin me, Caitlyn.”
Her hands clutch at my back. “Don’t stop.”
“Never.”
I thrust deeper, inch by inch, until I’m fully buried inside her. The stretch is exquisite, her walls clenching, her body taking me in with a mix of shock and surrender. My vision blacks at the edges. Nothing has ever felt like this. So tight, so hot, so perfect.
I brace my forehead against hers, gritting my teeth. “Mine. Every inch of you. Every gasp, every shiver, every fucking heartbeat. Mine.”
“Yes,” she whispers, trembling. “Yours.”
The word unchains me.
I pull back and drive into her with a force that makes the headboard slam against the wall. Her cry is sharp, sweet, but her legs lock around my hips, dragging me closer, deeper. I fuck her hard, relentless, each thrust a brand burned into her body.
Her breasts bounce with the motion, nipples peaked and begging. I take one into my mouth, biting gently, then sucking until she gasps my name. My hand slides to her hip, gripping hard enough to bruise, holding her in place while I claim her from the inside out.
She’s wrecked already, eyes rolling, mouth open in desperate moans that fuel my frenzy. Sweat slicks our skin, the air thick with heat and the sound of flesh meeting flesh.
“You feel that?” I groan against her throat, pounding into her. “How deep I am? How perfectly your body takes me?”
“Yes,” she cries, head tipping back.
“You were made for this,” I snarl, teeth scraping her jaw. “Made for me. No one else will ever have you. I’ll keep you filled, keep you marked, keep you mine.”
Her walls flutter around me, and I know she’s close. Her nails rake down my back, her thighs trembling against my hips.
“Come for me again,” I order, grinding my pelvis against her clit as I slam deeper. “Show me who you belong to.”
Her scream rips through the room as she convulses, clenching around me so hard I nearly explode. Her body milks me mercilessly, pulling, demanding, and I give in with a roar, spilling inside her in hot, endless pulses.
The orgasm tears through me like fire, violent and consuming, and I keep driving into her, grinding deeper, making sure every drop stays inside her.
When it’s over, I collapse against her, chest heaving, cock still buried in her tight heat. She’s trembling, wrecked, hair plastered to her damp forehead, lips parted on a dazed smile that makes my chest ache.
I press a kiss to her temple, my hand splayed possessively across her stomach. “You’ll carry me inside you for days,” I rasp. “And the next time, I’ll keep you full until your body knows it belongs to me.”
Her breath shudders, but she doesn’t argue. She nods faintly, eyes fluttering closed, surrender written in every line of her body.
And as I hold her, still inside her, the truth settles cold and certain in my bones.
One night won’t be enough.
I’ll never get enough.
Caitlyn Murphy is mine. And I’ll burn the whole fucking world to keep her.
Caitlyn
I don’t know where I end and he begins.
My body is still clenching around him in helpless aftershocks, every nerve ending overstimulated, every breath shaky and thin. His weight pins me to the mattress, solid and heavy, his chest slick against mine, his mouth hot at my temple as though he can’t bear to stop touching me.
