Kissing Kennedy (Claimed 4) - Page 17

I groan when she slides her hand upward, her palm running over my pec before she touches the barbell in my right nipple with the tip of her finger.

"Your body is incredible, Asher," she says, meeting my gaze. Her teeth sink into her pouty bottom lip as she runs her finger around the barbell, watching my face as she does it. "I love your piercings and your tattoos."

"Yeah?" I ask, my voice gritty. She's killing me. I grasp onto her hips, flexing my hands to keep me from tossing her down on her bed and humping her like a dog in heat. It's been years since anyone has touched me like she's doing. Actually, I don't think anyone has ever touched me like this…like they can't stop.

She places her other hand on my stomach, her fingers dancing up the ridges of my abdomen, which flexes and contracts beneath her touch. Cum leaks from me, my balls begging for relief.

"You want me to behave, you're going to have to stop touching me, angel baby," I grit out, planting my feet and locking my knees in a last-ditch effort to keep from pushing her where I know she isn't ready to go just yet.

Her lashes flutter, her teeth leaving indentions in her bottom lip. "What if I don't want you to behave anymore, Asher?" she asks, her voice shaking. She tweaks the piercing in my left nipple, driving me that much closer to the edge. "What if I want you to be bad with me?"

A bellow that's half misery and half crazed need escapes from deep within my chest, startling her. Before she can take it back or rethink anything, I'm boosting her up into my arms and stomping toward the bed. Her back hits it a second before I come down over her, wedging my knee between her thighs to keep them open for me.

"You want to play, angel?" I growl, burying my face in her cleavage. Jesus Christ. How does her little body hold these up? They're obscene and so fucking sexy. I nip and bite her, inhaling her peaches scent into my lungs like I'm starving for it.

She wraps her legs around my hips, locking them around me as if to keep me right where I'm at. Not that I plan on going anywhere. I can't fuck her yet. She isn't ready for that. But I can give her a taste of what she wants. I think I may lose my mind if I don't hear her coming in the next five minutes.

I roll my hips, grinding against her hot little center.

"Asher!" Her arms fly around my neck, her fingernails digging into my shoulders as she arches upward, shocked as my erection rubs against her clit. Even through our clothes, I feel how hot she is, how turned on seeing my body got her.

And if that isn't an ego boost, I don't know what is. My girl doesn't merely like my piercings and tattoos. She fucking loves them. I can't wait to introduce her to how much pleasure they'll give her when she's ready for it.

For now, I beat back the desire to strip her down and fuck her raw, instead making love to her with my hands and mouth. I touch her everywhere, running my hands all over her gorgeous body. For someone so small and dainty, she's got killer curves. I could get lost in them, forget the world, and spend days exploring every inch of her.

I want to know what makes her moan my name, and what makes her whimper. What makes her sob in pleasure and what makes her tremble. I want to know everything about her, be the one who teaches her how good she can feel.

"You're so damn sexy, Kennedy," I growl, tugging down the top of her dress. Her right nipple springs free of her strapless bra, all hard and pink. I take advantage of my good fortune and wrap my lips around it, sucking hard enough to have her back bowing off the bed. Her nails scrabble down my back, undoubtedly leaving behind marks.

"Asher!" she shouts.

"Fuck, yes. Scream my name, angel baby," I demand, biting and sucking while rocking my hips into hers. I dry hump her like my life depends on it, using her for my pleasure and giving her back the same. I should probably slow this down and ease her into love play, but I can't seem to do it. Don't really want to do it when she's crying my name and rocking her hips with mine.

"Asher, Asher," she chants, her head lolling back and forth on the bed.

I yank the other side of her dress down and latch on to her nipple.

"Asher, I-I…" Confusion and a tiny hit of fear enters her voice.

"Shh, angel baby. I've got you. Just let it take you," I murmur, running my hands up and down her sides to soothe her nerves. I want to beat my chest and roar like a lion. She's never had an orgasm like this before. I'm her first.

I'm going to be her last, too. Her everything.

"Come for me, Kennedy," I order her, grinding my dick against her, licking and kissing all over her chest. I hitch her leg higher up my hips so my erection rides against her clit again and again.

Her nails score into my back.

"Stop trying to fight it," I growl, biting her nipple and then pulling it through my teeth…a little bit pleasure, a little bit pain. She needs to know I'm in charge here. She can order me to do anything, and I'll do it without question. But in this bed, she's mine to command. She's my little toy and I give the orders. I decide when she comes and how hard, when she's had enough and when she can take just a little more. "Come, Kennedy. Now."

Her body bows beneath mine as she submits. Confusion and fear melt to shaking pleasure. She throws her head back and shouts my name in that smoky, desire-dazed voice, her legs locked around my hips and her nails in my skin, marking me as permanently as my ink does.

I grit my teeth as my balls give up trying to hold back my own orgasm. I come hard, grinding my hips into hers as cum shoots up my shaft, soaking my boxers. It seems to go on forever, her little cries and shaking body draining my cock dry. I bury my face in her cleavage again, kissing her everywhere, worshipping her as the possessive, jealous motherfucker I am.

"Mine," I growl over and over. "Mine."

"Yes," she agrees, her body going lax beneath mine. "I'm all yours, Asher."

A coil of tension, of anxiety I didn't even know I felt, unravels as soon as the agreement leaves her lips. My heart expands, the jagged cracks that have been there my entire life—the ones seemingly forged into my bones by a lifetime of neglect—knit themselves back together. For the first time in my life, I feel like I'm finally right where I'm supposed to be. Like I'm home.

Tags: Nichole Rose Claimed Romance
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