Claimed by Him (The Billionaire's Club 1)

Chloe’s lungs felt like they were exploding. Combined with his spicy scent, the dark flames in his eyes whipped her senses into a frenzy. Up close Graves was more stunningly virile than ever, more masculine than any man she’d ever known. Dark, square, and with that self-commanding air, he made her thighs water and her knees melt.

Her voice feathered like a whisper, and it broke with the force of her need. “I’m afraid of big things and small stupid things…but I’ll never in my life be afraid of you.”

Chloe couldn’t help reaching upward and stroking three fingers down his hard, stubbled jaw. A hand shot out to halt her, his reflexes stunningly fast, and although he didn’t instantly remove her hand, she could no longer caress him.

“Don’t, Chlo.” His voice was raspy, the black circles in his eyes spreading to swallow the gold irises. Swallow her. “I don’t like being touched…or being kissed…and I don’t like feeling like I’m losing control.”

Dropping that little bomb on her, he slowly lowered her hand, and walked away to the panoramic windows.

Chloe gaped after him. Her world tilted strangely on its axis as she fought to make sense of his words.

Eyes wide in disbelief, she looked down at her hands, and something twisted inside of her so very deep she thought it was a knife cutting through her soul.

“You don’t like being…?” She couldn’t even continue. The words tasted sour in her mouth. A whole ball of sourness spread to the pit of her stomach. “Why? Is that why you use handcuffs? To keep from being…touched?”

Oh my God, did this mean she’d never be able to caress and feel the man she wanted?

His jaw muscles worked as he stared out at the city lights. “Maybe. All I know is the only one allowed to touch in my bed is me,” he said softly, so softly she felt it like a whisper on her overheated skin.

Her pussy clenched at the image of being tied in his bed. Touched and pleasured by Graves Buchanan. Chloe knew instinctively that Graves’s touch would give her such intense pleasure, she nearly climaxed just imagining it. God, she could be strapped to a tree, be gazed at by this man, those eerie gold orbs of his eyes wetting her, exciting her, arousing her beyond measure…she’d no doubt he could bring her to multiple orgasms.

“Graves…when you said kissing, you mean French kissing?”

He nodded. “Generally I find I just can’t get into it.” There was no apology in his tone, merely a fact stated out to her like he’d say: I don’t like Indian food. Period.

Chloe gripped the granite counter for support, for she just couldn’t believe it. Graves always stared at her mouth like it was the stuff of his fantasies. And yet he didn’t kiss? Okay…but why did this just make her want to kiss him harder? Just to prove to him he was so, so wrong? “How can you not get into it? How many times have you even tried? Can you tell me that?”

God, she had to make him change his mind.

Otherwise, how could Chloe ever suppress the urge to kiss his beautiful mouth?

He had such beautiful lips, that plump, pink mouth…oh God. She’d fantasized about it, dreamed of it so many times. But Graves was so detached, such a methodical man by nature, he probably didn’t appreciate complications that weren’t related to electronics.

Did he think kissing was complicated or just pointless? Sloppy? Too personal?

“The women available to me when I was growing up didn’t…live up to my expectations. So I had to make some adjustments,” he said, his back still to her.

Chloe swallowed a lump the size of Oklahoma. So he’d just stopped kissing women altogether?

“You can have any woman you want now, Graves. Any woman.”

He burst out laughing at that, then he raked a hand through his hair, and she could see the fabric of his T-shirt stretch over his bulging muscles. “I wouldn’t know what on earth to do with the woman I want, Chlo.”

Her heart shuddered feverishly in her chest, and she prayed to God that she was this woman. She would be happy—no, she

wasn’t happy, she was desperate—to tell Graves Buchanan, to show him, all the things he could do to her. With her.

She hoped he didn’t notice the strained note in her voice, but she was floundering, was having a hard time processing what he’d revealed about himself. Plus there was still that little wanton part inside her that didn’t care, one way or another. She just wanted this man so much, she would take him any way she could have him.

Any. Way. She could have him.

“So you dislike everything that makes sex actually personal? Is that it?” she whispered, barely refraining from adding, “That’s fine! Even that turns me on with you!”

He moved his shoulders in a noncommittal shrug, and suddenly, yes, she could see how his OCD and controlling persona would really not cherish losing his mind much.

She could see that it would not sit well with the genius behind one of the world’s most advanced intelligent systems corporation, to lose control, when he thrived on it. In fact, his very business was dedicated to granting its consumers and clients the most power, with the least effort. It was all about commanding…

But although understandable to some degree that Graves could detach himself from the emotional aspect of sex so admirably well, he would probably still believe a girl like Chloe should not settle for such a poor offer from a man such as impersonal sex and a one-night stand.