Page 7 of His Public Claim
“No one is going to see or hear anything,” I tell her. I’m going to hell for this, so I might as well take everything. “Because you’remine.”
3
NICOLE
Because you’re mine. His possessive declaration echoes through me even as his heated erection pushes into my folds. I can’t tell if his statement is for me, or the crowd, because a murmur of discontent ripples around the room.
The wolf smooths his hand over my hip and up my side. Now he’s close, over me in fact, I can see his pronounced Adam’s apple and rough dark stubble. Powerful and masculine. He’s wearing cologne, something fresh and clean. Summer rain combined with a hint of sweat—it is evening after all—fills my senses.
This man feels like home, and smells like my teenage dreams.
Which is insane.
Because yeah, the wolf’s silver eyes are the same as Lev’s. But there’s no time to think about that because he’s braced over my body, protecting and trapping me. The blunt head of his cock presses into where I’m soft.
This is it. The moment.
“If you don’t put your dick in her quite soon, I’ll come over there and spill that virgin blood for you.”
I tremble and keep my gaze on my wolf’s glistening gold mask and silver eyes shadowed behind. He growls as though he really is an animal.
That was the cobra man speaking. No one else could have a voice like that. Posh and nasally and clipped.
“Please.” I reach up and touch my wolf’s jaw. “Don’t let him do that.”
“Never.” And it sounds like a vow, savage and dark. He lowers his head abruptly and kisses me, covering my mouth with his.
It’s going to hurt, but I refuse to make a sound. I absolutely will not give those bastards the satisfaction of seeing me crying.
But instead of pushing forwards, my wolf adjusts his hips and suddenly, that hard, silky helmet slides over my clit. I gasp and he muffles the sounds as, despite everything, desire spears me, zipping from my core right through to the base of my back and my thighs.
“Ssshhh,” the wolf chastises me, mirth in his voice now. “That’s it. Take the pleasure, Nicole.”
There’s something in the way he says my name, the merest hint of a Russian tone that heightens the feel on my clit, as though my body is trained to respond to his particular accent, and a stifled sob escapes me.
Around us, the mutter of male voices, and a rustle of clothing reminds me that we’re on show.
“Get out of the way, man,” a voice calls. “We paid to see the little virgin get fucked! Get on and pop the cherry, wolf.”
“That a-hole started the bidding too high,” says another man. “I’d have given you all a proper show.”
There’s laughter and cries of agreement, and my nipples pinch under my dress. They all desire me. They want totake me for their own selfish greed, but somehow, I’m the luckiest girl. Because the man who bid five million pounds for me is thrusting his cock over my clit, sparking pleasure into me. He’s leaving my virgin hole untouched, a deep ache for him growing inside me even as he lights me up.
“I can’t even see her tits,” complains a man. “I want to see her luscious tits.”
“Hey wolf, want help with that?” another man jeers, sounding really close. My head flicks to check how near, and the wolf’s big hand claps onto my jaw, forcing my gaze back to him.
“No,” my wolf snaps in reply, not letting up in the rocking motion that isn’t penetrating me, but is driving me to distraction, building up like a ladder. “She’smine.”
“You’re mine,” he says more softly, for my ears only. He doesn’t look anywhere but into my eyes, as though I’m the centre of his universe. Our surroundings blur and slide away. “They’re all jealous that it’s me with you, and not them.”
My chest heaves as he rubs his shaft over my clit, hard and insistent. The pleasure twists and spirals.
“You’re so beautiful like this.” His voice is low and hoarse. “You’re doing so well. Focus on me.”
Digging my fingers into his shoulders, I look up into his eyes. His face is obscured by that mask, but even in the dark beyond I can tell his expression is intense. Like he’s obsessed with what he’s doing to me, though he’s not taking anything for himself.
I’m melted to two parts of myself. The view of my wolf’s grey eyes, and where he’s working me into a trembling wreck between my legs.
