Free He Claims Me by Cynthia Sax Page B

my hips, taking him deeper and deeper and deeper, his tip sliding up me, stretching me. My pussy lips touch his base.
    â€œThis is how much I want you.” I clench my inner muscles around him.
    He groans and I grin, feeling powerful and strong. I lower. The retreat is as exquisite as the advance, desire flowing over me. I pump my hips up and down, fucking Blaine’s huge cock as he remains still, braced above me, waiting for my command to move.
    He’ll wait forever, locked in place if I say nothing. I wrap my legs around him, pulling myself upward, savoring the glide of hard cock in wet pussy, boldly, ruthlessly using him for my own pleasure.
    â€œYou’re so beautiful.” His arms shake, veins lifting over his bulging biceps. Sweat beads on his forehead. He’s suffering for me, my stubborn wonderful man, and I can’t allow this.
    â€œI’ll show you everything, Blaine.” I tilt my chin up, trusting him with all of me. “Fuck me hard.”
    â€œYes.” Blaine drives into me, covering my lips with his, filling my pussy with the entire length of him. I tighten my grip on his waist as he pounds into me again and again, thrusting with his tongue and his cock, slapping my breasts with his chest. My nipples, hips, lips hum.
    I glance at the mirror hanging above us and watch the muscles in his back strain, his ass cheeks clench. He’s superbly fit, Blaine’s body a thing of beauty, and he’s mine, all mine. I dig my fingers into his skin as he fucks me hard and deep, the bed shaking, sliding on the hardwood floor.
    He doesn’t hold anything back, his tempo fast and wild, his restraint stripped, leaving him bare, exposed. I meet each thrust, embracing his savagery. Only I see him like this, raw and stark and real, his face flooded with emotion, his eyes flashing.
    He grunts, I pant, skin slaps against skin, the bed slams against the wall, our sex noises filling the quiet room, escalating my need. I ache. I burn. I break the skin on Blaine’s shoulders, my fingernails digging into flesh.
    I’m unrecognizable in the mirror, flushed and primal, a creature of passion. I’m no longer an innocent nymph skipping along a sandy beach. I’m a siren writhing on the jagged rocks, coaxing Blaine closer to his doom, intent on my own fulfillment.
    He can give me what I need. I know this. “Blaine,” I demand.
    â€œCome for me, Anna. Here. Now.” He bites my bottom lip, the pain splintering my soul.
    I scream, light bouncing from mirror to mirror, crisscrossing the room, reflecting upon my heart. I drive my hips upward, taking Blaine fully inside me, and I tighten my inner muscles viciously around his shaft, mercilessly yanking his release from him, determined not to come alone.
    â€œAnna,” Blaine roars. He pushes even deeper, spurting hot hard jets of cum into my pussy, coating me with his essence. Swirling his hips, he grinds against my clit and I whimper, a second wave of almost unbearable pleasure sweeping over me. My pussy muscles convulse, milking him dry.
    Blaine collapses on top of me, pressing me into the mattress, his weight heavy and right. I stroke his back as he shudders, his skin smooth, wet and warm.
    He rolls onto his back, his expression gratifyingly dazed.
    I look up at the mirror. My lips are swollen and red, my nipples tight. My pussy lips glisten with our combined juices. These juices also coat Blaine’s cock.
    â€œIs it always like this?” I meet Blaine’s gaze in the reflection.
    â€œNo.” He shakes his head, his denial immediate. “Never. Only with you, Anna.” One of his palms cover mine, our fingers link together and we lie in bed, staring upward, watching each other.
    The moment stretches, a moment I savor, hold in my heart, not knowing if there will be more moments like this. I took the moments I had with my parents for granted. I’ll never do this with Blaine.
    Somewhere within his house a