Page 93 of Ruthless Claim

His jealous, greedy words for me make me pant. I bend my legs at the knee and part them, feeling bold and sizzling with confidence from the way he’s looking at me. “Get over here, Cillian,” I tell him, losing patience.

Instead of listening, he grabs my ankles and yanks me forward until my ass is perched on the edge of the bed. “Wrap your legs around me.”

I do, and Cillian grabs me beneath the armpits and hoists me up into his arms. One burly arm clutches my back, the other cups my cheek. “Kiss me.”

And I do. He kisses me back with tongue, spreading my lips to explore me thoroughly, tongue grazing my teeth, hot and wet and spearmint sweet. He presses his forehead against mine, dropping his hand from my face, to my torso, and beneath my navel.

“What do you want me to do?” Cillian murmurs as he slips his fingers to the apex of my thighs, two of them resting intolerably close to my clit without touching. “Tell me with words.” He removes his fingers when I tilt my pelvis, seeking friction.

“I want you to make me come.”

“How?” he growls into my ear then nips my jaw.

“With your fingers, then your cock,” I say impatiently. His fingers are inches away from giving me searing hot pleasure and I’m beyond the point of caring. Then he starts rubbing me with two thick fingers, driving spherical pleasure from the point between my legs through the rest of my body. A shot of ecstasy runs straight to my heart, almost too much to handle. Definitely too much for coherency. “Mm. Fuck.”

“Like that?” Cillian rasps, squeezing my hip with his other hand as I spasm and writhe. “Like that.” He answers his own question with a grin when I tremble.

“Cillian—Cillian—Cillian.”

“Mmm, have I told you how much I love my name on your lips?” he murmurs. “Show me how much you like it.”

Gripping him tight with my legs, I hoist myself higher against his body to soften his touch on my clit. My breasts flatten against his sweltering chest and my fingertips sink crimson crescents into his shoulders.

“Faster,” I demand, moaning loudly when he does exactly what I need. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

Then I go silent, mouth open in a soundless scream as my entire body flows with piping hot pleasure.

“Goddamn,” Cillian murmurs against my skin, kissing my face, neck, chin, and jaw, over and over. He gently lowers me down onto the bed and I curl my arms around his neck, unwilling to lose the sensation of his hot skin.

My breathing is so loud the world beyond the window is silent.

The only thing I can hear is my own deep inhale-exhale, inhale-exhale, scrambling to catch up.

But Cillian slips his fingers through the gaps of mine and brings me to a sitting position.

He kisses me again and while he does so, I fondle his chest shamelessly, taking my time with his pectoral muscles, glistening with a medley of shared sweat.

His breathing grows sharp as my fingers trail lower, gliding over the swell of his abdomen before the texture changes from soft skin to coarse body hair, spanning from navel to cock.

“Valentina,” he moans into my mouth when my finger smears the pre-cum at his tip. “I don’t want to be gentle and you’re pregnant.”

I look into his eyes, dark blue boring back into mine with such heavy intensity my stomach swoops.

“I love this side of you.” He brushes his thumb over my lips, the scent of my arousal still on his fingers. “I don’t think I could ever look at anyone like this.”

I open my mouth and suck in his finger, smiling at his groan. In my other hand, his cock twitches, thick and heavy. I moan and it twitches again.

“Later,” he vows, “I’m going to take you slowly.” He pinches my hard nipple with two fingers and earns a keen humming in return. “But right now, I want you fast and I want you hard.”

I release his thumb, red and glistening. “Yes.”

Cillian’s eyes narrow. “Turn around.”

Without giving him any sass, I turn my back to him, crawling on my hands and knees. Cillian rubs my ass and I look over my shoulder.

My hair is tousled, wild strands partially concealing him from sight, but I glimpse the challenge in his darkened eyes and the amusement at the tug of his lips.

He gathers my hair so it isn’t clinging to my face and twists the strands until they’re bunched in one hand.