Claimed As His (Mail Order Brides, 2)

By: Jenika Snow & Sam Crescent


Sliding his hand from her ass up her body to sink into her hair, he held her head tightly as he slammed his lips down on hers. At first she put up a fight but after a few seconds, she relented. The hands on his chest no longer pushed him away.

Tilting her head back, he licked his tongue across her lips, and she opened up. He plunged inside her mouth and she moaned. Her body seemed to soften against him, and he craved her touch so much more. He fucking wanted her more than he wanted anything else in his life. His cock was so damn hard that it hurt.

Breaking the kiss, he trailed his lips down her neck, sucking on her rapidly beating pulse.

“I hate being lonely,” she said.

This made him pause. He stopped kissing her and pulled away to stare into her eyes. “What?”

“I … I’ve really enjoyed being here and I think it’s really sweet that you’re making sure my every whim is being catered to—not that you even have to, but I’m lonely. I’m tired of always being alone and I would love it if you spent some time with me. I want to get to know you but not the you that you show everyone. Can I know you, the real you? I know I’m not making any sense and again I’m sorry about that.”

He cupped her face, and he saw the need in her eyes. This wasn’t sexual; she craved human affection. He got it, understood it, since he, at times, secretly felt the same way.

“Consider it done.”





6





Lucy curled her fingers around the stem of the wine glass and brought it to her lips, taking a long sip of the red liquid. This was her second glass, and although she should’ve probably stopped at one, she wanted another refill to go with the incredible meal she’d just eaten.

She stared at Ian from across the table, the city lights of Barcelona illuminated in the distance. It was gorgeous, like nothing she’d ever seen before. Hell, anything other than the city was wondrous to her.

The balcony doors were open, the sheer white drapes billowing in and out as the wind picked up. Lucy couldn’t even describe what she’d had for dinner, aside from meat, vegetables, and this incredible cream sauce that had nearly made her moan in pleasure. Never in a million years did she think she’d ever be in this situation, sitting in a private all but mansion in Barcelona, her husband making sure she was tended to, waited on so that her every whim was seen to.

She was just a girl from the city, living above a pizza parlor, surviving on the little savings she had until she found a new job. But she’d been happy, living life the way she wanted to, and not having to answer to anybody. Her life had done a total one-eighty, and now she was living in some kind of fantasy world, one where she’d never envisioned herself being.

“How was dinner?” Ian leaned back in the chair, bringing his wine glass to his lips and taking a long drink from it.

He watched her over the rim, his gaze heavy-lidded, intense almost. The sexual chemistry between them was insane, thickening, suffocating. There was no denying Ian was an attractive man, big and strong, with muscles defined in stark clarity.

She’d been thinking about him in the pool, his body nude, so hard and powerful. In fact, that was all she’d been able to think about, all she’d been able to picture. And as she thought about him naked, she couldn’t help but imagine his erection, how it had been long and thick, hard and ready for her.

She felt her face heat and crossed her legs, feeling herself become wet, her erogenous zones tingling. Lucy could still feel his body pressed against hers, his hard cock nudging between her thighs, only the thin barrier of her bathing suit stopping any penetration.

Lucy stood and smiled at Ian as she made her way to the balcony. She knew he was a hard man to get along with, had experienced it first hand. She also knew she was an idiot for marrying him, for not being smarter and just walking away. But there was another part of her that liked his presence. It was as if standing up to him had broken down a wall he always had around himself. It was like she’d shown him she wouldn’t be weak, wouldn’t take his shit.

She sipped at her wine and leaned against the stone wall that separated her from the city below. The wind moved the strands of her hair around and she closed her eyes, inhaling the air, letting it wash over her. God, was this real? Was this her actual life now?

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