Page 8 of Claiming His Baby

My jaw drops. He wants me to what?

Matt walks away, his steps silent as he approaches the chair in the corner, the sound absorbed by the walls. He sprawls on the leather, draping his arms on the back of the chair.

He watches me with unblinking eyes, his face hidden behind the sinister Minotaur mask. The air between us buzzes with electricity.

I finger the scalloped lace hem of my babydoll lingerie. I mean what’s the big deal, right? He’s already seen about eighty percent of my naked body. The lace is pretty much see-through, except for the parts over my naughty bits.

And naughty is exactly what I want to be tonight.

Besides, Matt’s gaze sears his lust on my skin. He lights a flame so hot all I want to do is shed my clothes anyway.

Matt’s eyes follow my hands as I pull the hem up my body and lift the flimsy fabric over my head, letting it fall soundlessly to the floor. In the mirror, I catch a glimpse of my heavy breasts.

“Look at me,” Matt growls. “And take your panties off.”

I do as he says and sit back down, squeezing my thighs together—it helps me feel less exposed and relieves a little of the pressure building in my core.

“Spread your legs for me.”

Matt reaches a hand down and rubs the bulge tenting the front of his pants. “You like watching what you’re doing to me?” he asks, arrogance dripping from his tone. “You like it so much you ignore my order?”

“Sorry, Sir.” I rip my gaze off his erection as I spread my thighs, revealing my most private place.

“It was a yes or no question.”

I fight through the throbbing in my throat. “Yes, Sir.”

“Play with yourself.” His gaze fixes on my pussy. His jaw tightens. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows.

I’ve never done that before. But then again, I’ve also never followed a cocky stranger through a BDSM club and into a bedroom specifically designed for sex.

“Aren’t you going to take off your mask too, Sir?” I ask, my heartbeat so loud it’s all I can hear. I stare, unblinking, as Matt transforms from Minotaur to man.

And, my God, what a man.

His blue eyes look even more striking with his golden skin as the background. Dark hair, thick on the top of his head and neatly trimmed along his strong jawline. High cheekbones.

What’s a man like him doing with me?

“Now, play with yourself, kitten,” Matt says, reminding me of my task.

My fingers travel south. My cheeks burn with embarrassment, but I push on, slipping my index and middle fingers between my legs, over my soaked folds. My lips part, letting out a sigh, as I rub myself.

I’ve decided to be a different person tonight. And more importantly, I get this urge from deep in my soul to follow Matt’s every command. The idea of a man having full control of me has always appealed to me, but in practice, it has always felt wrong . . . until now.

I’m so wet I’m probably leaving a wet spot on this chest, even though Matt’s still seated all the way on the other side of the room.

I don’t want to mess this up. This could very well be my only chance in life to enjoy this exquisite experience, to have someone give me the permission to do things so dirty I’ve never even dared to imagine them before.

The sound of Matt unzipping pierces my concentration. I snap my gaze to find him pulling out an impossibly big cock. He shuttles his fist up and down.

My mouth fills with saliva at the sight. My muscles throb, yearning to be filled up. A moan escapes my lips.

Matt sheds his pants, socks, and shoes. He crosses the room and stands right in front of me, his cock at my eye level, so close I could see the throbbing of its veins, smell the sensual musk.

My jaw drops open, saliva gathering in my mouth.

But before I can ask to take his cock inside me, Matt drops to the floor and presses his hot lips against my thigh. His scruff grazes my skin. His tongue slippery.

When he reaches the top, I gasp. He sucks my lips into his mouth and licks me all over, like a starved man.

I let him devour me, putting my hand on his soft hair as I watch our reflection in the mirror, his head buried between my legs as my face flushes with color.

The sight, along with the insistent circling of his tongue around my clit, boils my blood. I’m close. So, so close. My muscles tense up. The pressure builds. And then . . . it’s gone.

Matt smirks at me. He knows exactly what he was doing. He knew I was about to come.

“Please . . .” I moan before I can stop myself.

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