Claire: The Forced Virgin Of The Billionaire

“Mmm,” I felt goose bumps rise all over my back.

“Do you?” his voice got huskier and his rhythm slowed.

“Yeah.”

“Who do you belong to, Claire?” he drove in deep and grazed my n****e with his thumbnail and then his hand slid up to hold my throat again in a softer hold. His other hand snaked over my h*p and then his fingers were on my clit.

“Who do you belong to? Do you belong to any man who isn’t me?”

“No,” I breathed.

He rotated his h**s while he was inside me, eliciting a g***n from me, then twisted my n****e ever so slightly, “Then who?”

Shivers ran up my body. He had the ridge of my ear in between his teeth, “Who?”

I rocked against him, “Ah!”

He pulled out most of the way and then pushed back in hard and I gasped again.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he said and then he had all my hair in his hand again and he was tugging, gently.

“I don’t,” I whispered.

He let out a little growl and then his mouth was at my ear again, “You don’t?” there was warning in his voice.

“I don’t belong to anyone,” I said softly, feeling a little rush at the idea of this game. Then I bit my l*p, swallowed, then added, “Do I?” as innocently as I could muster, though I was feeling far from innocent right now. If I played the game right along with him, maybe it wouldn’t be so scary.

He took a deep breath and tightened his hold on me, “You’re mine. You belong to me, and you were made for me,” he said, low in his throat, then was pushing deep and slow and deliberately, kissing me all over the back of my neck, my shoulders, “Let me show you.”

I felt that quickening again and I started circling my h**s back against him, loving how deep he was. One of his hands had my h*p and his other hand caressed up and down my chest up to my throat and each time he got to my throat he gave a little squeeze, not painful, possessive, I guess. I tipped my head back against him and soaked in the symphony of his fingers, his c**k, and his lips, even the way one of his legs had locked around me. I was melting into a puddle of sensation, goose bumps on every square inch of my body, and he started circling around and around my clit. When I started coming he growled, “Who, Claire, who do you belong to?”

“Ah!” I held my breath and then let out a long “Ohhhhh,” and then slowly floated back to earth. He slapped my a*s, making me jolt.

“You’re a naughty girl,” he murmured into my ear, still driving in deep, “You’re lucky I let you come when you’re so f*****g naughty.”

It felt as if goose bumps rose on top of goose bumps, if that was even possible. He flipped me from my side onto my stomach and I felt him rise up. He grabbed my h*p with one hand and my two wrists into his other palm, which was used to pin me while also bracing himself.

“Ooh, let me wipe that smirk off your face,” he grunted, gritting his teeth and I gasped as he slammed hard into me. Then he started to run his free hand up and down my back while he rotated his h**s, pushing hard. He pushed in, then slapped my a*s, making me jolt, which I could tell he liked a lot because of the way he grunted. Then it was a succession of slams and slaps and grunts for him and for me, jolts, and m***s.

Super quick? This wasn’t quick at all. It had been going on for a long time and I was getting super exhausted; my legs were still shaky from the o****m and I was breathless and sweaty, my hair plastered to my cheek. My a*s felt like it was on fire.

“You like this?” he whispered, still pounding into me and tightened his grip around my wrists.

“Mmm,” I m****d into the pillow.

“You feel so good,” he told me, “I’m going to f**k your sweet p***y over and over, as much as I want to, and you know why?”

I g*****d.

“Because you’re mine.” He whispered and he turned me and we were doing it missionary style.

He let go of a wrist and wiped my hair from my face and held it back then found my lips with his and kissed me tender for a second and then it turned rough.

He started grunting with every thrust, pulling tighter on my hair. It went on and on and on. I wanted, no needed, to be done, I was sore and exhausted, and thirsty. My a*s was on fire. Finally, I whispered, “Azriel,”

“Baby,” he hummed against my mouth.

“Come inside me.” I whispered into his mouth.

He let go of my lips and then his mouth opened and he slowed his pace and then I heard him gasp, I started to tongue his throat and dug my nails into his back. He had a full body shudder as he came inside me. Then he collapsed on top of me and stayed like that for the longest time. I could feel his heartbeat pounding against me and his breath tickled my shoulder. I twisted, feeling a bit crushed, and he rolled off me onto his side. I rolled into him, wrapped my arms around him, and gently trailed my nails up and down his back, just enjoying this closeness, this intimacy. I’d never had anything like this with anyone else. No basking in the afterglow, no dirty talk, nothing even close to this and here I was lying against an insanely beautiful dangerous man who had killed to avenge my abduction, it was crazy of me but it was an insane turn-on.

I felt guilt underneath desire but there was something so hot about that little game. He liked games, as I could tell from the start, and I was figuring out that maybe if I played along, they weren’t so scary; they were just games.

“You little vixen,” he murmured against my ear and then bit my earlobe, “You don’t tell me when to come.”