Page 49 of Claimed By the Boss

She’s soft everywhere and so responsive. I ease her legs apart and press a kiss between them, feeling her gasp before she can stop herself. I look up once, just to see her expression.

She’s flushed, beautiful, and desperate for more. I can’t help but give it to her.

I take my time, tasting and teasing her deepest parts. I watch her writhe and gasp, arch and whimper, until she’s gripping the sheets and calling my name. Only when she’s trembling, breathless and spent, do I finally move up over her again.

“You’re perfect,” I whisper, brushing the hair from her face.

“Please,” she says, voice shaking, “I want you inside me.”

I brace myself on my elbows, kiss her again, and slide into her slowly, carefully, watching every reaction on her face. She bites her lip, holding onto my arms, her thighs wrapping tighter around my hips.

“Look at me,” I say.

She does.

I start to move, slowly at first, then deeper. Her breath hitches and I stop.

“Are you still okay?”

She nods, a tear sliding from the corner of one eye. “Yeah. Just don’t stop.”

At her request, I keep going deeper and steadier, until we find a rhythm that makes her cling to me like I’m the only thing holding her together. She digs her fingers into my back, gasping into my ear, her hips rolling against mine with more need than I’ve ever felt from anyone. She’s so tight, so warm, and so goddamn perfect that it takes everything in me not to lose it too fast.

I kiss her again, harder, and hold her through it as she shatters a second time, her cry caught between her throat and mine. I follow a few moments later, burying my face in her neck as everything inside me spills out with her name on my lips.

We stay that way, tangled and quiet, with the only sounds our breathing and the distant hum of traffic outside her window.

15

LYRA

Damien’s breathing slows gradually against my neck, his arm still wrapped around my waist like he’s anchoring us to this quiet little bubble we’ve created. His skin is warm, his presence steady, and even though we haven’t said a word in minutes, I feel everything he isn’t saying in the way he holds me. Like I’m his. Like he doesn’t want to let go.

And I don’t want him to.

But somewhere beneath the warm haze, guilt creeps in. I should have told him. I should have said something earlier, before we ended up in bed again. Before he made me fall harder. I was going to. I told myself I would.

But then Rick showed up and everything turned into chaos.

And now definitely isn’t the right time. Not when he’s stretched beside me, calm and satisfied. Not when I’m still catching my breath from the way he unraveled me.

I rest my hand against his chest and feel the slow, steady beat of his heart. He reaches over and runs his fingers along my arm.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low and a little rough.

I nod. “I’m perfect.” I let out a happy sigh. “Are you okay?”

His mouth lifts in a faint smile. “I’m not the one who was stalked by a former coworker. You’re not too shaken up?”

“A little. But I’m okay now.”

His hand moves to cup my cheek, and his thumb brushes just under my eye. “If he ever comes near you again?—”

“He won’t,” I say quickly, gently placing my hand over his. “You scared the shit out of him. Trust me.”

I don’t say that a small part of me was scared too. Not of Damien, not really. But of how easily he slipped into that version of himself. I didn’t know he was capable of such casual violence. The strangest part is that it didn’t just scare me. It thrilled me.

Not the violence itself, but the fact that he was willing to go that far to protect me. The way he looked at me afterward, like making sure I was okay mattered more than anything else, made my heart speed up.