<Chapter 32-2
Chapter 32-2
Then, without warning, he grabbed my waistband and ripped.
The button snapped. The zipper popped. I gasped. “Troy! Fuck-those were my favorite jeans.”
Claim
“I fucking hate your jeans,” he growled, voice wrecked and thick with lust. “You should never wear anything but silk. Or better-nothing at all.” He yanked the ruined denim down and froze, his gaze snapping to my lace panties. “Goddess. You little minx.”
I smirked. “Thought maybe you didn’t get a good look at them last night.”
His fingers trembled against my thighs as he finished stripping me. When I stepped out of them, I spread my legs slightly-just enough. His jaw clenched. His restraint was slipping.
“You haunting me wasn’t enough? You had to go and wear the matching set, didn’t you? I assume the bra’s got that ridiculous little flower charm?”
“Why don’t you find out?”
With a dark, wordless snarl, Troy stood and swept everything off the table in one violent motion. Plates shattered, glass rolled, but I didn’t flinch.
“I was eating that taco,” I said flatly.
“There’s something else I want to eat more,” he growled.
In seconds, he’d lifted me onto the table like I weighed nothing. The heat between us was molten now, dripping with fury and lust.
His fingers hooked under the hem of my tank, peeling it off like it offended him. Then he flicked his thumb over the gold charm between my breasts, watching the way my breath hitched.
His mouth hovered just above mine, and I could already feel the burn of his lips. But I shoved a hand against his chest.
“No, Troy.”
He stilled. Eyes narrowed. “You don’t want this?”
“I do. But not if you’re going to use it to mark your territory like a dog. Don’t take me. Give yourself to me. Let me feel you. All of you. No games. Just you.”
Something broke in his eyes, snapped clean through, and then his hand slid up to my bra, fingers expertly teasing my n*****s through the thin lace. My whole body shuddered.
“You want all of me?” he whispered, low and hoarse. “Then you’ll have it. Every inch. Every damn
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< Chapter 32-2
breath.”
That wasn’t what I’d asked for. Not really. But it was more than I expected.
Claim
And when his mouth finally met mine, rough and aching, I surrendered. I pulled him in by the hair,
moaning into his kiss, clawing at the tension between us like it could tear me apart if I let it.
His tongue slid against mine with violent hunger. Every kiss felt like a claim. Every touch said mine.
Tonight, he was going to ruin me.
And I was going to let him.
Restless and hungry, I yanked at his shirt, tearing it off. He only broke our kiss for a breath before crashing back into my mouth, devouring me with a bruising hunger that made my back arch off the table. My fingers clawed down his chest, feeling his muscles ripple and twitch beneath my touch like a beast barely leashed.
He was fire-raw, primal fire-and he was setting every nerve inside me alight. My wolf wasn’t just happy. She was feral, drunk on the scent of him, the claim of him. I finally understood why sex with your mate was nothing like sex with anyone else, because this? This was war. And I was begging to be conquered.
His hands slid between my thighs like he owned them, and I parted for him instantly, already soaked and aching. The sound of a zipper dragging down made my breath hitch, and then he shoved my panties to the side, baring me.
“You sure?” His voice was a dangerous growl against my lips, low and cracking with restraint. Because once I start, I’m not stopping.”
“Fuck me,” I snapped. “Now.”
And just like that, he slammed into me. No teasing. No easing. Just brute, unapologetic possession. My cry tore through the air as he filled me to the hilt, too thick, too deep, and not nearly enough.
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