Claim My Baby (Crescent Cove 2)

Make up for every idiot male who hadn’t realized what a gift they’d been offered.

Their loss. Now she was mine.

I leaned up to kiss her gently, teasing open her lips with mine. She was so

eager, so hungry. I returned her kiss and slowed it down, swallowing her noise of frustration and giving her an answering tug on her nipples.

She arched and quieted, her body mine for the taking. At exactly the pace I intended.

Still cupping her breasts, I skimmed my mouth down her rib cage. Her skin was flushed all over, especially between her legs. I’d barely allowed myself a look, knowing it would push me to move faster than I meant to go. But now I let my gaze linger between her thighs as I kissed my way there, wanting her well aware of my destination before I reached it. She was so pink and delicate, already damp with desire. A landing strip of downy blond curls led like an arrow right to the heart of her.

I couldn’t wait to taste her. To know her in a way no one else ever had.

Mine.

I dipped my tongue into her belly button, swirling it there. “Have you?” I breathed against her skin, trusting she would get my meaning.

Her throat rippled, and she shook her head.

Fucking morons. Those men weren’t worth the pavement beneath her feet.

Neither are you.

More and more, I was beginning to think just that. But if I could earn my redemption, I would start at the altar between her thighs.

I finally released her breasts to draw apart her legs. “Hold on tight, princess.”

Apparently, she thought I meant to grip my hair, because at the first lick, she grasped it in both hands and let out a sound crossed between surprise and pure animalistic need. I didn’t admonish her since her hands in my hair felt too fucking good. As did the frantic pulse against my lips as I learned her reactions, sliding down to lap at the well of liquid pooled at the tender entrance of her. Then I slipped inside, just the tip of my tongue, savoring both the crush of her legs against the sides of my head and those demanding pulls on my scalp.

She would never be a passive lover. Never shy away from sharing her approval at what I was doing.

I looked up at her and wet my fingertips, again taking my time so she could do nothing but watch and wait. And quiver on the mattress as if she were dying for every touch.

As I eased one finger inside, she gasped and rocketed upward, still holding onto my hair. I didn’t retreat. I continued on, marveling at the unrelenting tightness that would certainly strangle my dick. I repeated the move a few times and she splayed her legs wider, her inhibitions fleeing in search of more. I added another finger, stretching her open slightly, picking up speed while I licked at her distended clit. She was throbbing around me, tightening already. She wouldn’t last long, and I didn’t want her to.

If anyone had earned a goddamn orgasm, it was Sage Evans.

“Come for me, princess,” I murmured, meeting her eyes as I pressed the flat of my tongue to her clit and curved my fingers inside her, deliberately seeking out that secret spot that only worked on good days and if the angels aligned their interests with mine.

They were fucking singing with their harps out this morning.

“Oh God, what—oh God!” She bucked against me, yanking at my hair again and again as I flexed my groin into the bed in a futile attempt to get some relief. Going down on her was more erotic than I’d ever begun to guess. “Too much, I can’t—”

“Don’t fight it, princess,” I whispered, using the nickname that always seemed to work magic. “Just let go.”

Her pupils blew wide before she shut her eyes and arched, her whole body going taut as the rubber band of need inside her snapped. She flooded my tongue, her clit a manic drumbeat against my mouth as she screamed.

Fucking screamed. Not some little moan meant as a merit badge for a halfway decent effort.

She was still quaking when I finally gathered my wits enough to climb up her body. I kissed her with lips soaked from her and she ate at them, hungry for every taste and sensation I could offer. Her hands raced down my back, her nails scraping my skin as she shoved down my boxers and cupped my ass. Hard. Nails leaving welts while she sucked on my tongue to swallow every bit of herself left behind.

“You better have a fucking condom,” she panted, and I couldn’t decide if I wanted to groan or laugh.

So I did both.

“I didn’t come here to get laid. What kind of man do you think I am?”

“A smart one who’d better get moving.” She smacked my ass and I rolled off her, kicking my tangled boxers down my legs and onto the floor. Where I soon followed.