Page 18 of Claimed By Lock

Before I can react, he's flipping us. My back hits the mattress and he's over me, between my thighs, pinning my wrists above my head with one hand. His cock nudges against my entrance and I whimper.

"Desperate enough for you?" His voice is gravel. He rocks his hips forward, just enough to slide through my wetness, the head of his cock catching against my clit. I gasp and try to arch into him, but he pulls back. Teasing. "Because I've been desperate since the second I saw you at that rally."

"Lock—"

He does it again. That slow drag through my folds, not inside, justthere. Maddening. I'm soaking wet and he's right there and I need him to just?—

"Please." The word escapes before I can stop it. I don't beg. I've never begged. But right now, with him holding me down, with his cock so close to where I need it, I'll say anything. "Please, Lock."

Something shifts in his expression. That tightly wound control finally snapping.

"Say it again."

"Please."

He thrusts into me and my whole body arches off the bed.

The stretch burns — he's big and I'm desperate and there's nothing slow about it. He buries himself to the hilt in one stroke and holds there, and the sound I make is borderline obscene. Full. So fucking full. I can feel him everywhere, feel my body clenching around him, trying to pull him deeper.

"Fuck." His jaw is tight, his arms shaking where he's braced over me. "You feel —fuck, Josie."

I roll my hips experimentally and we both groan.

I roll my hips and we both groan.

He pulls back slowly, almost all the way out, then snaps his hips forward. I cry out, my nails raking down his back.

"Like that?" His voice is rough, wrecked. "That what you need?"

"Yes — God, yes, just like?—"

He does it again. And again. Long, hard strokes that drag against every nerve ending, that make my toes curl and my thighs shake. I'm so wet I can hear it — the obscene sound of him fucking me — and it should be embarrassing but it just makes everything hotter.

He shifts his weight, hitches my thigh higher on his hip, and the new angle makes me see stars.

"Right there," I gasp. "Don't stop, don't you dare stop?—"

"Not stopping." He's pounding into me now, relentless, hitting that spot with every thrust. "Couldn't stop if I wanted to. You're so fucking tight, squeezing me like you never want to let go?—"

"Come for me." He grinds deep and holds there, his pelvis pressing against my clit. The pressure is exquisite. "Want to feel you come."

Jesus.

"Lock—" I'm right there, right on the edge, every muscle in my body pulled taut. "I'm gonna?—"

"I know." He pulls back and drives into me hard, and that's all it takes.

The orgasm hits like a wave, crashing through me, my whole body convulsing around him. I'm crying out — his name, maybe, or just sounds that don't mean anything — and he's still moving, fucking me through it, dragging it out until I'm shaking and oversensitive and still somehow wanting more.

"That's it." His rhythm is faltering now, hips stuttering. "That's it, that's —fuck, Josie?—"

He buries himself deep and comes with a groan that sounds like it's torn from his chest. I feel him pulsing inside me, feel his cock twitch with each spasm, feel the way his whole body goes rigid and then collapses.

He catches himself on his forearms at the last second, breathing hard against my neck. Neither of us moves. Neither of us can.

"Holy shit," I finally manage.

He laughs — low, breathless, surprised. Like I've startled it out of him. "Yeah."