Tarnished(33)

“What are you thinking so hard about, Kenz?” he whispered, nibbling across her chest and up her neck.

“I want you to claim me. Now, Drake. Do it now.” She didn’t want to lose her resolve.

He lifted his head and narrowed his gaze at her. His cock pulsed against her pussy. “Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you. This is for life. There’s no going back. Once I claim you, you’re mine. Forever. Do you understand that?”

She nodded.

“Say it out loud again.” He smiled. “I want to hear it.”

“Claim me, Drake Spencer. I can’t stand not belonging to you for another minute.” Did she just say belonging? She was so screwed. Literally.

Drake reached between their bodies with one hand and held himself aloft with the other. He positioned his cock at her entrance and rubbed the tip through her wetness. “It’s gonna hurt just a bit at first, baby. Look at me…” He waited for her gaze to land on his. “I’ll go slow. Tell me when to stop. I don’t want to hurt you. It will only last a moment, and then you’ll feel so good as your pussy stretches around me.” His arm shook with the effort to hold himself off her.

“Shut up, Drake. Do it,” she demanded.

She’d heard all that before from other girls. She didn’t need an anatomy lesson right now. She needed his cock inside her pussy. Now.

He grinned and pushed just the tip inside before he eased back out. On the next pass, he went a fraction farther, his eyes glazing over. Again, and he squeezed his eyes shut and pursed his lips as though in pain. She imagined it was pleasure instead, or his concentration to avoid pressing into her too fast.

On the next entrance, she lifted her ass off the bed just as he entered her, impaling him in one thrust. She sucked in a deep breath at the pressure. Slow hadn’t been her desire, but holy fuck, he was huge.

Remaining fully seated, Drake lowered his body to the bed as she did and held steady. He brushed loose hair from her face and kissed her lips. “Baby. God. You okay?”

“Yes,” she mouthed. Had he heard her?

“So tight. So fucking tight. Jesus.” His jaw was rigid.

She gripped his biceps and squeezed as she concentrated on the pressure, the delicious feeling of being filled by him. “Move,” she finally whispered when she needed more.

Slowly, as though she were a delicate, blown-glass ship, he eased out of her and then back in. When he did it again, she felt a knot form in the pit of her stomach. It drove her to move with him, rock up when he came down. The rhythm seemed so natural, as though rehearsed.

And the pressure inside her built, needing to explode. The detonation would be so welcome. She just needed a little more … something. Desperately.

When Drake reached between their bodies and pinched her clit, she tensed. She couldn’t lift into him any longer. Too many brain cells needed. All of them were busy. Dedicated to the delicious stretch of her pussy and the pressure against her clit.

“Come, baby. Again. Come for me, so I can watch you this first time before I explode.”

She shattered before he could finish his sentence. And it felt so fucking good she never wanted it to end. That tight pressure in her pussy yielded to contractions. She milked his cock, unable to watch his face. Even if she’d stared straight into his eyes, she wouldn’t have been able to see. Her vision was clouded.

She moaned so loud, she even heard herself through her blocked ears that seemed to be underwater. The pulsing went on for long moments before she floated back to earth. Drake held steady, deep inside her throughout. When she finally wafted back toward earth, he moved again, thrusting harder, faster. He pounded into her in a manner so wild, she finally understood what all the hype was about.

The connection with him was mind-boggling. She seemed to be inside his head as he finally came, pausing deep inside her, his cock pulsing streams of cum into her womb.

It felt like home.

If she died now, it would have all been worth it.

And she never wanted to leave this place again.

Home.





Chapter Eight


Hours later, Drake lay draped across his mate’s body, staring at her face as she slept. He caressed her skin, brushing strands of her curls away from her temple.

With his leg flung over one of hers and the sheet tangled between them, he mused that they looked like they were posing for an ancient nude statue. Aphrodite. And her Adonis.

She slept deeply. He smiled. He loved her. There was no doubt. He’d known he loved her yesterday, but that feeling went even deeper after what she’d given him and how hard he’d known it had been for her to do.

He needed her again. His cock ached. He’d slept only minutes. He wasn’t sorry, though, because he’d relished his ability to lie and stare at her while she slept. The sun was still high in the sky. It was approaching dinner time. He didn’t care if he never ate again if he could just lie here and watch his mate sleep.