Claimed by Him (7 page)

She had never expected or imagined anything even remotely romantic from a man like Graves. But the fact that he’d thought of this after showering her all day with diamonds made her want to…die.

Now she would never forget this night as long as she lived.

Now no man would ever compare.

No man would ever hold a candle to him.

Oh, God, she was so screwed.

“I…you didn’t need to do that. But thank you, Graves.”

He set aside the stems and then he started toward her. His walk burst with male purpose, and her heart thumped like a mad thing as she watched. Dadump dadump dadump.

“It’s nothing compared to what you’re giving me.”

His tender words electrified her. Magnetized her. She’d never wanted anything so much, had never been truly willing to die for something.

Her voice barely made it past her constricted throat. “Graves…please touch me.”

“Come here, princess.” He scooped her into his strong, capable arms then easily carried her across the room, toward the bed. She felt him bury his nose in her hair and inhale her, and a wanton shudder racked through her overheated body at the gesture.

When he lowered her at the foot of the bed and purposely let her slide down his deliciously ripped body, Chloe’s eyes widened. His cock stretched out so long and huge against her abdomen, she moaned instinctively and pressed her body into his, undulating suggestively up on her tiptoes.

The way she caught him staring down at her knocked off her breathing pattern.

Graves had never looked at her with such unabashed lust. His flaming eyes promised her that he had every intention of taking her in all the ways a man could take a woman tonight. Liquid heat rushed into her panties. The pain in her breasts intensified, and she licked her anxious lips. “Graves.”

He slid his hands all over her curves as if memorizing her shape while those golden eyes trekked across her face—her nose, her cheeks, her eyes—then he lifted his hand and touched the pad of his thumb to her lower lip as though he wanted to taste her there. With one slow, sinuous swipe, that thumb caressed across her lips, and she bit back a moan as her tongue snaked out to wantonly lick him. “
Graves
.”

His eyes were fire on her face, his voice a terse rasp. “I want you so much, Chlo.” His features hardened with desire as he inserted his thumb into the depths of her parted mouth.

She latched onto the offering and suckled with all her thirst and hunger. His taste was salty, his eyes almost animal wild as she twirled her tongue around him, pretending his finger was his tongue or his cock. Arousal made her tremble. A wash of cream coated her pussy at the thought of going down on him. She was so wet now she was afraid she would leak.

Graves retrieved his thumb and dragged it wetly down her curves, then his fingers splayed on her buttocks and flattened her up against his hard length, molding her against him. “I want to lick”—he bent to lick her bare shoulder—“and suck”—he gave a hot, hungry suck at her neck—“and fuck you until you scream.”

“Please do it fast, do it now.”

His unapologetic stare glazed with desire as he undid the zipper on the side of her bandage dress with a look that promised her untold ecstasy.

She let him. Had dressed today only with the sole thought, the sole reason, of him undressing her. Her skin pebbled when she stepped out of her dress in her new Agent Provocateur underwear, the thong panties transparent through the lace and almost nonexistent. Her bra was tiny as well, merely covering her nipples with a black lace flower.

The lustful spark in his eyes and the tightening of his face thrilled her as he reached behind her to unhook her delicately laced black bra. Her breasts bounced free, and she ached to hear him say something, but he was without words, looking at her in an almost raw, primal way.

Wobbly on her feet in only her Jimmy Choos and her teeny tiny panties, she nervously extended out her wrists, her voice cottony. “Put your handcuffs on me.”

He stilled for a moment, as though caught off guard by the offer. He shook his head and surveyed her breasts like he planned to devour them. “No, Chlo.”

He cupped one full globe and circled it with his thumb, his eyes glimmering like a tiger’s as the peak pebbled for him.

Unexpectedly he pinched the tip and a shot of pleasure arrowed straight to her core, tearing out a gasp, her pussy rippling. She pushed her wrists out again, her knees liquefying with his manual stimulation. “Put them on me. I’m afraid my hands will get the best of me. You’re so beautiful and I want to touch you so much. Please, Graves.”

They stared at each other. His breathing was deep and slow, hers fast and nervous. She wanted to please him so badly and she ached for him to enjoy this night as much as she knew that she would.

But Graves shook his head once more, his temples working as he clenched his jaw hard. He curled his fingers around her hip and squeezed. “It’s your first time, Chlo. I’m trying very fucking hard for sweet and easy here.”

“No, I don’t need sweet or easy. Put them on me. Please!” Need consumed her, like a powerful cyclone sweeping her off her feet.

She could make out his straining muscles under his shirt and her breasts throbbed for him. She needed him to fuck her and fuck her now, any way he’d like to.

But Graves clamped his lips in disapproval and seized her hands in each of his warm ones and placed them on his shoulders, where he softly said, his gaze blazing into her, “You can hold onto me but don’t rub me, please.”

“No, please, Graves, please. What if I forget?” she said.

The troubled look on his face made her want to wrap her arms around him, hold him, love him. But he didn’t like to be touched. So she waited, pleading with him with her eyes to tie her up and have his way with her.

The line of his jaw was squarer than ever. “Damn, Chlo…the handcuffs could hurt you if you writhe too much.”

She panted. “Please. I want to do it your way. Your way.”

He waited a moment, then he walked to his closet and came out less than ten seconds later. Her eyes scanned down the length of his corded arms but she was disappointed to see no handcuffs in his hands. Then she spotted the Hermès tie, the same orange one she’d seen him wear, and her womb gripped with pure female thrill.

He guided her wrists together and all the time watched her expression with possessive eyes that made her bones feel like butter. He ducked his head as he tied her hands gently in front of her, and as he did so, his scent stormed through her like a windstorm. He smelled manly and expensive and her lungs burned for more of his scent as he at last secured a firm knot that kept both her wrists together.

“Too tight?” he asked softly, his lips so close to her temple that she felt them brush against her skin as he spoke.

She shook her head, said in a low, sultry voice, “Just right,” and then he scooped her up again and finally set her down in the center of the bed. She stretched her arms above her head and buried her hands under the feathery pillow behind her, his sheets soft and silky against her skin.

She could hardly believe that at last she was here, in the exact place she wanted to be. With rose petals under her skin, silky cotton sheets…and
him.

Oh, God, she wanted this man so much she would implode with it.

She wanted to pleasure him, to drive him so crazy, to make him want her as badly as she wanted him so that he would never, ever, deny her again…

“Are you planning to join me?” she urgently whispered while goose bumps broke along her flesh as the cool air of the AC caressed her skin. Expectation swam through her, lust hotly soaking her vagina until she was certain she couldn’t stand one more minute of being alive without having him inside her.

Graves stood at the side of the bed and caressed her with proud, appreciative eyes, starting to undo his shirt, button by button, his gloriously muscled chest revealed as he smiled in a way that that undid her.

“Unless you want to change your mind—yes, Chlo. Today is the day you stop being a virgin. Tonight you’re mine.”

Mine…

My God. The sight of her, tied and naked, in her panties, in his bed, was going to give him a heart attack.

Quick and easy was flying out the window so damned fast Graves just didn’t know if he could be gentle with her. Holy God, she was so beautiful. So damned beautiful his eyes blurred as he took in her adorable, desire-softened expression, her delicate curves, her perky breasts with the puckered pink nipples begging to be licked and sucked and kissed, and all that silken gold hair spreading out behind her over his Sferra sheets. His chest moved with emotion, and when he finished unbuttoning his shirt, he almost tore it as he yanked it off, anxious to be rid of his constraints.

She watched him with eyes darkened with need, writhing on the bed with her hands tied above her. “Graves, please fuck me, I feel like I’m dying.”

But Graves was sure the one dying was
him
.

He leaned over her as he worked on his belt, and her eyes were pools of desire as she glanced up at him. “I’m not only going to fuck you, Chlo,” he rasped in a thick voice once again, tossing the belt aside with a clatter, and allowing his thumb the luxury of memorizing the texture of her plush bottom lip. “I’m going to lick up all your cream…and when you’re squirming for me to lick more, I’m going to suck you up until you feel every pull of my tongue up to each of your little fingers.”

Fuck, he wished he didn’t have to tie her up. But if she touched him, he’d lose it. His mouth burned with the want to kiss her again, feast from her lips and drown in them. But if he did that…he’d lose it, too.

God knows he felt like
he
was the virgin.

Chloe’s arousal intoxicated him. Her lace panties were so wet he could see the dampness at their center, could smell her enthralling female scent through the scent of roses. He wanted to hear her scream his name. Scream
Graves
until she didn’t know anything or anyone anymore, much less Luke Preston.

She mewed anxiously, calling his name, arching up in beckoning. With his pants half undone, Graves bent his head and hungrily nuzzled one breast tip with his lips, then latched his mouth firmly around the pebbled peak.

He used his wet tongue to lave it, then gave strong, hungry pulls that arched her body up to his mouth while his fingers curled around the flesh beneath and helped to push it upward. He added his teeth, and his cock throbbed at each of her soft, abandoned moans. God, he was leaking cum in his pants already, he wanted her so much.

His blood roared in his ears as he switched breasts, suckling the taut, diamond-hard nipple on the other side. His eyes rolled to the back of his head from the pleasure, excitement, and arousal swimming in his veins as her gasps echoed in his ears.

Ravenous for more of her, he slid one hand down her lovely flat navel, stopping only to tenderly circle her belly button, and then he dipped lower to cup her over her lace panties. “Open your legs, Chlo.” He could barely make out his voice through his own roaring heartbeat.

Her thighs swung apart.

He hooked two fingers on her panties and withdrew them from her legs, shaking with the need to own her, brand her, lick her. He wanted to worship her, revere her. “Jesus, what is this?” Her pussy lips were bare, and a shudder racked through him at the delectable sight of those swollen pink pussy lips. His voice was a terse rasp and barely audible. “Did you shave that just for me, princess?”

“Yes, Graves.”

He couldn’t stop looking at her, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, her eyes shining with so much need and desire and adoration for him. For him. And her pussy…fucking shit, her sweet, sweet pussy.

His mouth watered as he stared at the pink, plump limps of her vagina, all the glistening flesh he wanted to feast on. He groaned and his fingers delved between her thighs. “How wet are you, Chlo?”

Another shudder racked through him when he heard the slick sound of his two fingers entering. She was so tight he had to push against her, push so hard his jealous cock twitched with envy. He was drugged by the bubbling sounds that tore from her throat, the way her hips rotated to his hands.

“Please, yes…” she encouraged.

“Sweet baby, you like that?” he cooed, while his dick felt like exploding in his pants, he’d been thinking about it all fucking day. For all fucking yesterday and today. For fucking forever. And nothing had even come close to the reality of having this woman…in his bed. Wanting him this way.

Christ.

A starved sound rumbled up his throat, and he bent his head to suckle her breasts once more, first one, then the other, wanting to be fair to both. Chloe writhed and pulled on her bindings as she twisted up to his devouring mouth, gasping his name. His emotions rioted through him like a deadly tornado, she excited him so much.

She overwhelmed him. She enchanted him. Made him want to lose control and not give a fuck about the consequences. He wanted to bury himself in her and never, ever, come out.

The room smelled of her arousal and roses, and he saw the petals sliding under her body as she arched and undulated. Her green eyes shone as she looked down at him, imploring him to fuck her.

He seized a loose red petal and ran it over her damp nipple tips. First one, then the other. “Please,” she cried again.

“Oh, princess, you’re so beautiful.” He dragged the rose petal to her pussy lips and caressed the nub with the blunt pad of his thumb while holding the silken petal against her, and she rocked her hips, her eyes glazing, her hands straining under the pillow.

He bent and licked one nipple again, the point bumping against the swipes of his tongue. Then he tweaked the puckered tip and watched her vault in the bed with a cry of pleasure.

“My turn to tease you, sweet Chlo…” His fingers slid to tantalize her sweet little cunt again, cupping her first, then sliding his middle finger inside while his thumb circled the nub of her little clit.

Her hips pumped wildly against his touch and she tossed her head with a desperate cry. “Graves, I want you inside me I’m so ready, I’m so…oh oh ohhhh.”