He Claims Me (2 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Sax

BOOK: He Claims Me
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I float, euphoric, my body limp and my limbs heavy. Blaine licks and sucks, draining the moisture from my pussy, cleaning me carefully, thoroughly.

“That was wonderful.” I repeat the first words I've ever said to him.

“I agree.” Blaine brushes his lips against mine and I taste myself. “That
was
wonderful, natural and real.”

He remembers his reply to me. I blink back tears, a warmth spreading over my chest. Before meeting Blaine, I was invisible, but he sees me. He listens to me. He remembers.


This
is real.” He grips my nape and leans his forehead against mine. The tips of our noses touch, and his breath rushes over my lips. Specks of moisture glisten on his tanned skin. I slide my hands between his jacket and his cotton shirt. I'm naked and he's fully dressed.

I swivel my hips. He's also hard, the ridge in his dress pants large and unyielding. I push against him.

Blaine groans and pulls away, returning to the seat across from me. My legs are parted, my body bare and exposed. I glance at the partition. The driver continues to look straight ahead. He must have heard me scream, must have watched me as I came. Did he come too? Are his pants splattered with his essence? Another tremor rolls over me, a poignant echo of the pleasure I've experienced.

“How do you feel, nymph?” Blaine asks, his eyelids partially lowered, a small smile curling his lips.

“Cherished.” I smile back at him. “And I wish for you to feel the same way.” I lower my gaze to his groin. His black dress pants are pulled tightly over his unabated erection. “Tell me what you need.” He satisfied me and I will now satisfy him.

 

Chapter Two

B
LAINE UNFASTE
NS HIS
pants and pulls the fabric down to his ankles, removing his stark white boxer shorts at the same time. He spreads his thighs and waits, allowing me to look at him as he earlier looked at me.

As I gaze at him, needs, yearnings, desires I thought fully sated resurface. Blaine is much larger than even the marble dildo we've used in the past, his cock jutting upward, long and thick and rigid. Short black curls cover his base, his balls hugging his shaft.

I want him inside me. A warm flush sweeps up my body. But I'm scared, scared I'll show him everything and he'll abandon me as everyone else has, taking that piece of me with him.

“Straddle me, nymph,” Blaine orders, his curt tone demanding my full attention.

“Do you want me to suck you first?” I lick my bottom lip, nervous, my fears mounting.

“I'll always want you to suck me.” Blaine's voice deepens.

Moisture drips down my inner thighs, my body reacting to his words. I continue to hesitate, torn between my lust for him and fear of the unknown.

“But I've already come once this evening,” he states. “I can control myself if you straddle me.” He wraps his fingers around his base as though offering his cock to me.

I won't turn down his offer. I slide onto his lap, trusting him to control himself. There's no reason not to trust him, as Blaine has never broken his word to me. His thighs flex under me, his power barely contained. He reaches back, presses a button, and the seat partially reclines.

“That's a clever feature.” I pull his shirt higher, exposing more tanned skin and more silver scars, his violent past written upon his body.

“During long trips, I sometimes sleep here.” Blaine's gaze intensifies. “Alone.” He brushes my hair back from my flushed face, his touch gentle. “Always alone.” He curls a brown lock around his index finger.

I flatten my palms over his lapels, splaying my fingers over his chest, understanding more than he's said. Before meeting Blaine, I was also a solitary creature, unheard and unseen, distrustful of everyone and everything.

“You're no longer alone, Blaine.” I push my body forward, pressing my pussy lips against his shaft, tightening the bond between us.

“Yes, I'm no longer alone.” He drops his hands to my hips. “I know what this is for us, Anna, but I'll wait for you.” Blaine swirls his thumbs into my skin. “I won't rush and risk hurting you. I'll never hurt you.”

“I know you'll never hurt me.” He wouldn't intentionally hurt me but he thinks I'm strong and I'm not. I rock against him, slicking his cock with my juices. “What is this for us?” I brace emotionally for the answer. Is this an affair? A fling? A test of how long he can last without sex?

Blaine buries his face in the curve where my neck meets my shoulder, his warm breath wafting over my skin. “This is forever,” he murmurs against my skin.

Forever. A tight band of emotion wraps around my chest, pressing down on my lungs, making it difficult to breathe. He'll never abandon me, never leave me. It's too much to hope for, to believe in. “Blaine?”

“Pleasure yourself with my body, Anna.” Blaine redirects the conversation. Part of me is relieved, needing time to think about this new development, while another part of me is disappointed, yearning for verification.

“Tell me what you need and that's what I'll do.” He outlines the rules to this new game. “That's all I'll do.”

I'll be in control. I undulate against him, moving faster and faster, excited by his offer. We'll only go as far as I allow us. “I need your mouth on my neck.” I tilt my head to the side, swinging my hair over my back.

Blaine drags his lips up and down my neck, his fervent caress stimulating my skin, his obedience moistening my pussy. His body is mine to use, mine to direct. I rub my feminine folds over his cock, my nipples over his suit jacket, the friction adding to the heady feeling of power.

He grazes my sensitive skin with his teeth, sending waves of sensation down my form, and I moan, swiveling my hips, grinding into his shaft, shamelessly using him for my own satisfaction. I grip his nape, his hair soft against my fingertips.

Blaine bends his dark head and sucks on the base of my neck, his suction glorious and arousing. I rise up on him, a keening sound ripped from my lips. He releases my neck and I allow myself to fall, our bodies colliding. The gold key between my breasts bounces.

“Cup my ass.” I grip Blaine's broad shoulders and pull myself up once more, climbing his hard physique. His big palms slide under me, supporting my weight. “That's it. I want to ride you.”

He lifts me, stroking my pussy along his shaft, my clit along his rim, and he drops me, smacking my ass on his thighs. He lifts and drops, lifts and drops. I pant, my skin heating, and Blaine grunts, mouthing my neck, the sounds of our encounter filling the vehicle.

I roll my hips and he shudders, his controlled tempo thrown off by my action. I like throwing off his tempo, stressing his control, so I do it again. He hardens even more against me, a bead of pre-­cum forming on his tip.

“Anna,” he growls.

“I'm pleasuring myself with your body, Blaine.” I flick his earlobe with my tongue, savoring the salt of his skin. “Your hard, hot body.” Blaine's legs shake under me and the cords on his neck lift. I trace these cords with my lips, my tasting pulling a strangled noise from his throat.

“Faster,” I order, seeking to break him, this powerful man. “Harder.” I gasp as he obeys, driving me down on his thighs, his ass remaining motionless in the seat. “Lift into me.”

“Yes.” Blaine thrusts upward as I fall upon him. My ass and pussy throbs, his erotic abuse ratcheting my passion upward. As our bodies crash together, he nips my neck, marking me.

“Yes.” I agree, my lungs and breasts aching. “Make my tight little pussy feel you for days.” I grind into every slide. Sweat drips down my spine, between my ass cheeks, and a red flush covers Blaine's face. We work as one, reaching for our satisfaction, together.

I want him inside me, filling me, but I'm not ready, not yet. This is enough, the fucking without entry, the delicious slide of my curves against his hard muscles. My body tightens, the tension stretching unbearably thin, and I dangle on the edge, needing one more push.

“When I come, you come,” I instruct. Blaine's fingers dig into my tender ass, his massive form shaking. I grit my teeth, holding off for as long as I can, not wanting this encounter to end, not wanting to leave him.

Tears stream down my face. I can't last. I can't. “Bite me, Blaine.” I ask for the pain I need.

He closes his teeth over my shoulder, his teeth sharp, dangerous, right, and the tightness inside me breaks, snapping in two. I fling my arms back and cry his name, flying high on the winds of desire.

“Anna,” Blaine roars, wrapping his arms around my waist, holding me to him. He drives his hips upward and hot cum splashes over my stomach, soothing the burn. He thrusts two more times, shuddering, and he sags, burying his face between my small breasts, his forehead resting on the gold key.

I return to earth, trembling with exhaustion, and cradle his head in my hands, his black hair sinfully soft and decadently thick like the plush carpeting he has in his office.

Blaine leans backward, taking me with him. I rest my cheek on his silk tie and he props his chin on the top of my head. He strokes my bare back, drifting his fingertips over my spine, his touch soothing and right.

This isn't normal, I know, almost fucking in a limousine while the driver listens and watches. I don't care. Drowsy and sated, I snuggle deeper into Blaine's warm form.

He chuckles, hugging me closer. “You'll sleep more comfortably in a bed, nymph.”

In a bed, not necessarily my bed. I raise my head and meet his gaze, my body stiffening. I'm not ready for this either. It's too soon, too much.

Blaine's eyes glint with unspoken promises. “Not tonight.” He presses his lips to my forehead, his mouth hot. “Dress and I'll walk you to the Leighs' door.”

At some time during the encounter we'd arrived home. We were parked in our upper class community while I screamed with satisfaction, our neighbors sleeping peacefully in the mansions around us. I look at the partition. Ted, our driver, remains behind the wheel, silently waiting for us to finish.

I retreat to my seat and dress quickly, not bothering to clean my skin with tissues, wanting Blaine's scent on me. He pulls his pants up, the tail of his white cotton shirt yellowed with his cum. I brush back my hair, trying to tame it, the tendrils frizzy.

“You look beautiful,” Blaine assures me, admiration in his green eyes. I feel beautiful and cherished. Is it truly possible to feel this way forever? Can Blaine be right about our relationship lasting?

He hands me the mysterious black shopping bag. “Everything in here is for you,” he states, knowing I'll never touch anything that isn't mine.

I peek inside, glimpsing a much-­needed bottle of conditioner and a black velvet bag containing my favorite sex toy. “You're giving me the dildo.” I frown, my excitement dissipating. Is he taking another business trip?

“That's for tonight.” Red streaks across my billionaire's cheekbones. “I want you to sleep with it inside you.”

“Oh.” He's not leaving. I wiggle, giddy with relief. “You want me to use the dildo.”

“Not use.” Blaine's lips twitch. “Slide the dildo into your pussy. That's all. You're not to touch yourself or find release without me.“ He knocks on the window and the door opens.

Ted stands by the vehicle. The driver's spine is straight and his expression is carefully blank but he doesn't fool me. I know he watched our sex play, listened to my screams.

Blaine exits the limousine first, the garment bags draped over one of his shoulders, and he holds out his hand. I grasp his fingers with one hand, clutching the bag and my tote with the other.

On previous nights, Blaine released my hand once I was upright. Tonight he links our fingers together and walks with me, shortening his stride to match mine. My good mood bubbles over, my joy impossible to contain.

“It's like we're a ­couple,” I muse. A normal ­couple.

“We
are
a ­couple.” Blaine frowns and I blink, unaware I said the words out loud. “There's no one else for me, Anna. There hasn't been since the first moment I saw you.”

“Oh.” I tilt my head back and gaze up at the sky. The stars twinkle. The crescent moon hangs low. Are horny purple aliens watching us, waiting for us to strip naked, to touch ourselves? “There's been no one else since I first swam in your pool?”

“There's been no one else since you interviewed to house-­sit for the Leighs.” Blaine gazes upward also, his jaw jutted, his profile rugged and undeniably masculine. “And a little brown moth landed on your wrist.”

“I remember.” I kicked over the fallen leaf the moth was hiding under, startling the tiny creature. She flew upward, her wings fluttering, and she gripped me with her little legs, her entire body quivering. She looked as scared as I was, the prospect of meeting the Leighs terrifying me.

“You set the moth carefully on a rosebush, concealing her beneath the pink blooms.” Blaine meets my gaze, his eyes soft, as though he treasures this simple memory.

“The gardener then yelled at me for walking on the grass,” I add ruefully. “He chased me halfway down the block, waving his hands and cursing at me.” I shake my head, my cheeks heating. “Why would you have grass if you can't walk on it?” I ask, and Blaine gives me one of his rare smiles.

Silence stretches, a companionable quiet, and I walk even slower, in no rush to return to the Leighs' empty bungalow. “You saw the moth incident, huh?” I glance up at him. I was wearing my baggy white shirt and oversized black pants, thinking myself invisible, and he saw me.

“I watched you even then.” Blaine squeezes my hand. “You were beautiful and real and I couldn't look away.” He waits as I find my key, his gaze fixed on my face.

I feel cherished . . . maybe even loved, not that I remember what being loved feels like. The last person to love me was my father, and he died in prison when I was fourteen.

As Blaine and I stand on the Leighs' cold steel welcome mat, I fiddle with the finicky lock. Finally there's a click and the door swings open. Warm air rushes out of the concrete and glass modern bungalow, the air-­conditioning too costly to run.

My agreement with Dr. Leigh and his wife is I pay for utilities and maintenance as they gallivant around Europe. In exchange, I get a place to stay.

Unfortunately, to pay for this deal I have to work two jobs. I work days at Feed Your Hungry, dialing for dollars at the charity, and I work nights at Blaine Technologies as an assistant to Fran, Blaine's assistant.

A wonderful upside of my second job is I spend more time with Blaine. I smile at the Leighs' sexy neighbor, wishing I could invite him inside. I can't. The plastic surgeon and his wife left me with a long list of things I couldn't do while staying in their house, having visitors being top on this list.

Blaine hands me the garment bags. Our fingers brush and a spark of awareness shoots up my arm. “These are more suits from Fran,” he explains.

“She wanted to throw the suits away.” I raise my chin. Although there's no judgment in Blaine's deep voice, years of facing accusations have made me defensive. “She told me I could have them.” I'm not a thief like my father. I don't take what isn't mine.

“Fran's happy you'll wear them.” Blaine leans forward and glides his lips over mine, evaporating my concerns with one heated touch. “Remember my instructions for tonight.” He taps the tip of my nose and I blink. “Be a good girl, Anna.”

Blaine turns and walks away, his shoulders broad, his spine rigidly straight and proud. I close the door, flick on the hallway lights, and slip out of my shoes, as no shoes are allowed in the house.

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