Page 23 of Claimed By my Fake Husband

"I never wanted anyone." I shrug, trying to hide how exposed that makes me feel.

"No one?" I shake my head. "I'm the only person you've ever wanted?"

I nod. The silence stretches, and then he leans over me, brushing his lips against mine.

"I'll say this," he kisses me again, slow and deep, "I'm flattered. And I'm going to take very good care of you, sweetheart."

Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I bite back a smile. "Good."

He grins and shoves the clothes and blankets off the bed, clearing the space between us like it's the only thing that matters.

He covers my neck, my chest, my skin, in kisses until his mouth finds my nipple. A small, sharp sound leaves me as his lips close around it.

"Oh..."

The room feels warm, and I can feel the tension coiled tight in every muscle of his body.

I've never been touched like this before, but I know need when I feel it. And I want whatever he's about to give me.

His teeth graze my nipple, just enough sting to make me gasp, and it goes straight to the ache building low in my belly.

I'm soaked already. I didn't think that was possible this fast.

"That's right, sweetheart." His thumb sweeps back and forth over the peak. "I love how you move for me. How you sing."

I arch into his mouth as he sucks again, and his fingers trail down my stomach. I already know what they can do, and just the anticipation has me dripping.

He slides two fingers inside me and starts to move. A moan tears out of me, loud in this too-quiet house.

He finds the spot that makes my whole body jolt and works it in slow, deliberate circles.

"Holy fuck." I have nothing to compare this to, and it doesn't matter. It's still the best thing I've ever felt.

I writhe under him, his mouth still working my nipple, my hand fisting in his hair to hold him there.

"Greedy little thing, aren't you?"

I nod, fast and desperate, as his thumb finds my clit and I cry out.

"That's it. Such pretty sounds. You want more, sweetheart? You want to listen to me?"

I'm right on the edge, and all I can do is nod. "Yes. Please."

Then he stops.

"No," I whine, my whole body aching from being denied. "I'll listen, I swear!"

He laughs low in his throat and kisses his way down—my ribs, my hip bones, the curve of my stomach.

I squirm under his mouth, aching for more as he moves in and out of me, slow and unhurried.

He looks up at me from between my thighs, and that wicked glint in his eyes wrecks me completely.

"Just how badly do you need to come, hmm?"

I don't know why this drives me so crazy. But it's the same as the closet, the same as the kitchen. I love it when he takes control.

"Please," I beg. "I'll return the favor, I swear."