Free Claiming Magique: 1 by Tina Donahue

girl. Come on, dammit. Getting his
erection past his boxers and pants was an effort. The crown was bigger than
he’d ever remembered and nearly purple, looking bruised by the time he tunneled
it into her.
    Hunt’s mouth fell open at her
delicious wetness and heat, her body sheltering and confining his.
    She made soft mewling sounds that
told him she wanted this as much as he did. To make certain she never forgot
this moment, he touched her clit, stroking the tiny nub as he pumped.
    With her mouth against her shoulder, Alexa muffled her cries of delight.
    Outside, footfalls came down the
hall accompanied by men’s voices. The knob to this room rattled.
    “What the fuck?” a deep voice said.
    “Wrong room, fool,” a new voice
answered, as low-pitched as the first.
    “Oh.”
    The hinges on another door squeaked,
and then the wood thumped slightly as it shut.
    Alexa grunted. To Hunt, she sounded even more excited. At the thought of being discovered? Reprimanded? Possibly
punished?
    Continuing to pump, he struggled to
hold off, his chest and shoulders aching from tension. His cock didn’t care.
The damn thing kept getting thicker or she was getting narrower, the rasp of
their bodies begging him to come. He refused, thrusting for minutes, a fucking
marathon in the carnal world of most men. For him, it wasn’t enough. He had to
impress Alexa and mark her as his alone. As—
    Aw hell.
    She tightened her pussy again,
timing her constrictions to each of his pumps, working him in the best way she
could, wanting him to climax just as she was, her gasps and muffled moans
signaling her orgasm.
    His came next, forcing him to clench
his jaw to keep from shouting and bringing anyone to the door. His panting went
on for too long and then exhaustion consumed him. Weary, Hunt leaned over Alexa , burying his face in her silky tresses. They were
real, just as he’d suspected, and also bore her scent. “Did you cut your hair?”
    If she had, she deserved a damn
spanking. Not that he’d ever lift a hand to her, unless she was into that kind
of stuff…playful punishment meant to generate pleasure. Somehow, Hunt sensed
she’d enjoy that.
    “Which hair?” she purred.
    He laughed wearily, then ground his
body into hers, driving his limp cock deeper inside to show her that he was
still boss.
    She made a contented noise, a happy
slave.
    If she kept that up, he’d be hard
again quicker than a horny teen. “The hair on your head.”
    “It’s a wig.”
    Thank god. “Take it off.”
    “No.”
    He huffed out a sigh. “Please?”
    “No.” Her body stiffened ever so
slightly beneath his, matching the edge in her response. “Let me up.”
    “No…I’m not ready.” He wound his
arms around her torso and held her gently, tenderly as he’d wanted to on the
terrace. “Thank you.”
    Just like that, she softened beneath
him again.
    He brushed his lips on the sensitive
skin beneath her ear.
    She trembled and whispered his name,
thrilling Hunt to his core.
    Come on, get hard, he urged his damn cock, even as he
knew his body was still minutes away from being ready. Stalling, he asked,
“What?”
    A moment passed as if she didn’t
know how to answer, and then she squirmed beneath him, no longer soft and
submissive. “I mean it. Let me up. I have to go.”
    Faster than Hunt thought possible,
his contentment and fatigue vanished. He wanted to shout “why?” but didn’t.
Frustrated, he decided to do what she’d asked and released her.
    She went into one of the stalls. The
roll of toilet paper made rattling sounds, telling him she was cleaning up,
removing all traces of him, just as she had that night on R Street before she’d
straddled Tim.
    That didn’t improve his mood. Her
sighs, however…
    They told him of her uncertainty and
need, as great as his. They sounded as though she wanted more.
    He moved a bit closer then halted,
not wanting to push too much. For minutes, he waited.
    When Alexa came out, she stopped herself from looking