Page 17 of Claimed By River

“I’m sure.” I touch his cheek, the gold band flashing in the low light. “This is the only wedding night I’ll ever have. I want to pretend it’s real. Just for tonight. Please, River.”

He stares at me for a long moment, something shifting in his expression. Then he stands, stripping off his shorts, and I get my first real look at him. He’s thick and heavy, curving up toward his stomach, and my mouth goes dry with want.

“If we do this,” he says, his voice low and dangerous, “you don’t get to pretend. You understand? This is real. What I feel for you is real. And once I’m inside you, Nadia, I’m not going to want to let you go.”

My heart hammers against my ribs. “Then don’t let me go.”

He groans and pushes me back onto the bed, following me down, his big body covering mine. He kisses me, deep and filthy, and I can still taste myself on his tongue, musky and intimate, his beard teasing my nerve endings. His cock presses against my hip, hot and insistent.

“You want me to fuck you,” he growls against my mouth. “Want my cock inside you? Want me to make you mine?”

I mewl at his words, my hips bucking as pleasure racks me.

“Christ.” He reaches between us, positioning himself at my entrance. “You’re so wet. So ready for me.”

“Please, River. P-please…”

He pushes in, slow and steady, and I gasp at the stretch of it, a bright sting that flares and then eases as my body gives around him. He’s bigger than I expected. For a moment, I can’t breathe, can’t think, can only feel the overwhelming sensation of him inside me.

“Okay?” He stills, forehead pressed to mine, every muscle in his body tense with restraint.

“Yes. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

He pulls back and thrusts in deeper, and I cry out, nails digging into his shoulders. He finds a rhythm, slow at first, then faster as my body adjusts, as I start to meet him thrust for thrust.

“So tight,” he groans. “So fucking perfect. You feel that? Feel how you fit me?”

“Yes.” I’m panting, writhing beneath him. “Yes, River. Yes.”

He hooks my knee over his arm, opening me wider, and drives in deeper. The new angle hits something inside me, something that makes white sparks explode behind my eyes.

“Oh!” The sound tears out of me.

“There?” He does it again, grinning when I moan. “That’s your spot, isn’t it? I’m going to find it every time, Nadia. Every single time I fuck you, I’m going to make sure you feel it.”

“Oh God…”

“Not God.” He leans down and bites my earlobe. “Who am I?”

“R-river,” I whimper.

“Wrong answer.” He slows his thrusts, torturous and shallow, until I’m whining and bucking my hips. “Try again.”

I know what he wants. The word sits on my tongue, foreign and forbidden and somehow exactly right. “Daddy,” I breathe.

He freezes. His hazel eyes go black with lust. “Again.”

“Daddy,” I cry out, louder this time. “Please, Daddy, don’t stop. I need you.”

“Fuck.” He slams his hips against me, hard and deep, and I scream. “That’s it. That’s my good girl. Say it again.”

“Daddy!” I’m lost in it now, the word pouring out of me with every thrust. “Daddy, please, I want m-more…”

He gives it to me, pounding into me with abandon, the bedframe rattling against the wall. The sound of our bodies meeting, wet and obscene, fills the room.

“You like that?” he growls. “Like when your daddy takes care of you? Makes you feel good?”

“Yes, yes, I love it…”