Wounded Kiss (To Be Claimed 1)

The shiver morphs into a spike of need and I rub myself against him, just barely containing my moan.

“Grace.” His tone holds a note of warning.

“Yes?” My response is practically a purr and I don’t recognize this person. With a desperate need riding over me, I lean forward just to smell him, just to get a small dose of that lust. The tip of my nose runs along his stubble and a warmth flows through me. It’s like … like fate telling me everything is going to be all right. “I’ve never felt like this before,” I confess to him.

“Grace,” he warns me, but even his authoritative tone is weakened like I am. He feels it too. I steady myself against him, rocking slightly.

With his hands on my hips, he stops my movements. I murmur, “But I need you.”

“Fuck,” he groans to the ceiling as his head rolls back at my words.

“Please, fuck me.” I have no shame this time. I’m throbbing against him with desire and I have no intention of being denied. My nipples are pebbled and all I can think about is him inside of me, thrusting and soothing every need I have. I splay my hand against his chest and push. With little resistance, he leans back into the chair, his hooded eyes finding mine.

With my chest pressed against him, I place my lips at his ear. “I want you. And you better not fucking deny me.” He groans and takes my head in his hands as his lips crash against mine. His warm tongue runs along the seam of my lips and my mouth parts for him. My tongue dances with his as he struggles to release his hard dick from his pants. His movements beneath me make it obvious that he’s stroking himself and that knowledge makes my skin heat even more with anticipation as I moan. I need him inside of me, filling me.

I position myself so that the head of his dick is at my hot entrance. He stares into my eyes as I gently glide down his massive cock. My bottom lip drops and I can barely hold his gaze. A strangled moan is torn from me as I move down his length, taking every inch of him. I’m still a little sore from earlier, but the fullness makes my body sing with pleasure. I move back and forth a few inches, whimpering as my limbs tremble slightly. My head falls onto his shoulder as the hot sensation overwhelms me. Devin takes my head in his hands and kisses me sweetly. I moan into his mouth as I glide up and down, my arousal making the movement effortless although his girth is still stretching me. I lean back and pick up my speed while my hands rest on his muscular pecs, riding him at my own pace.

He’s good to me, I tell myself. Some part of me that sees this pathetic need as weak. I choose who I want to fuck and when. This is me, taking what I want. I won’t be ashamed of that.

His hands stay at my hips as he takes my nipple into his warm mouth, bites down and pulls back. I arch my back at the spike of pleasure and wanton heat in my core. He relaxes against the chair, watching me with a hungered look in his silver eyes. Everything about him screams power and need. He needs me. The thought is heady.

His heated gaze of adoration sends yet another surge of arousal through me. My clit hits his pelvis with every downward stroke as I continue riding him and it makes my pleasure all the more intense.

I stop my movements and stare at him. He’s letting me ride him. He’s given me control. But it’s false control. I find myself wanting him to fight for it. A moment passes before Devin looks up at me. He bucks his hips against me, causing me to moan as his eyes find mine. As we both catch our breath he asks, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

I pause for a moment before admitting the truth. “I want you to fight me, to take me.”

Before I can blink, he’s lifted us out of the chair and he spins my body around, pinning me against the wall. It’s cool against my flesh. I don’t even have time to gasp until my cheek is pressed against the wall with his fist gripping my hair. My legs are spread wide and just the head of his hard dick is nestled between my folds. Both my wrists are captured in one of his hands and held above my head. Holy fuck! My heart races in my chest. His speed and strength are terrifying but somehow invigorating at the same time. His other hand loosens its grip in my hair, then slips between the wall and my body, moving lower and lower until he’s able to circle my clit with heavy, unrelenting pressure. The feeling is so intense that I try to move away, but I’m trapped. I can hardly move any part of my body.