Claimed by Him by Red Garnier

inside her again.
    He cracked an eye open and saw her bite her lower lip, and he wanted to eat it. Taste it. He remembered all those tacky kisses that had left him tasting of stale alcohol and tobacco and everything dirty. He’d never tried to kiss anyone again. But he was obsessed with Chloe’s mouth. With that kiss she’d pushed him to give.
    He couldn’t stop touching her lips, looking at her mouth, wondering if he’d imagined it tasted so good, afraid to taste more of her and becoming addicted. If he kissed her again, he’d be screwed, and he was already so deep in over his head he felt like he was drowning.
    Chloe’s heart picked up speed when Graves’s eyes fluttered open…and her hands froze on his abdomen. He watched her with heavy eyelids for a long, breath-clogging moment. Then his breathing changed, and lines of determination tightened his face. He was going to kiss her. Suddenly the awareness that he was thinking about it made her breath become fast and choppy, her eyes blur with anticipation.
    He rolled gradually to his side, and the move forced Chloe to somehow lie back down. His eyes felt like a hot brand on her mouth as he lowered his dark head. She held her breath. He set his lips so lightly over hers, it felt like a whisper. She almost thought he would pull back soon. But he didn’t.
    Her heart thumped harder as the plushness of his mouth molded to hers, and she opened ever so softly, trying not to move or scare him off, letting him find his way by himself.
    He made a ravaged groaning sound and settled his body against hers. He turned his head and gingerly flicked out to taste her. The kiss was light and explorative, and it sent the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl. She fisted the sheets at her sides, so eroticized she could have had an orgasm while Graves kissed her like this, almost like he was discovering kissing for the first time.
    He cupped her face and turned again, but this time he covered her mouth hungrily and plowed his tongue so deep she felt his thrust in her womb. Her veins sang with his kiss, and a tremor of ecstasy ripped through her as his bold, damp taste invaded her.
    His hands convulsed and he shuddered, groaned, and pressed his erection meaningfully against her. His tongue meant business now, taking no prisoners. He kissed her so hard she helplessly opened her mouth and let him devour her, twirling her tongue around his while her pussy drenched between her legs.
    She’d never been kissed like this, with such hunger, such reverence, teasing her vagina into clenching at each damp, hot flick of his strong tongue. His mouth didn’t become softer as he kissed her, but harder, wilder, more ravenous—exhilarating her.
    She shivered, felt like he had at last opened himself to her. Awash in awe, she slid her hands up the bulging muscles of his biceps and around his shoulders, her swollen, deliciously kissed lips moving against his when she spoke. “Can I touch you, Graves?” Ravenous, he continued nibbling at her lips and suckled her tongue and squeezed his own tongue around hers. “Graves, can I please touch you?”
    He slid an arm around her waist and pressed his fingers into the small of her back, then he squeezed her against his body and groaned, “Touch my face.”
    She stroked his jaw with her fingertips and he tensed and slammed his eyes shut as though he were in nerve-racking, toe-curling, bone-churning ecstasy.
    Chloe wanted to explode in a million pieces and never be the same again. She felt so very weak with this one concession. It was insane the way she wanted him and she couldn’t stop. Instead she wanted him more with every second she felt him, smelled him, spent here, with him.
    Graves devoured her mouth again, kissing her roughly with his tongue, and she trembled as he rocked his cock against her stomach. “Touch me. All of me,” he said in a guttural voice that made her womb ripple hotly and her heart somersault.
    “Oh, Graves,” she breathed. A ribbon of