War Claim (The Claim: Book 3)

Chapter 48 - Chloe (Part 3) ***STEAMY***

Her lips found his again. Soft strokes of tingling delight that made her stomach knot into ecstatic bunches and her heart to dance.

She turned in her seat, chest to chest, and lifted her legs over his while wrapping her arms around his neck. The thought of pushing him backward and straddling his torso flashed in her mind. How easy it could be done and she was certain he'd let her.

For now, she was content to kiss him. To savor this moment and the tenderness of his touch.

There was no rush. No surge of lustful primal heat in the way he kissed her. He was almost chaste, as if applying too much pressure would cause her to bruise or break. He cradled her face in the palms of his hands, easing back every minute to gaze into her eyes, as if he couldn't believe what was happening. Whom he was holding and kissing. The mixture of emotions pooled in those brown depths, full of longing, disbelief, and love.

Gradually, his kisses grew stronger and the disbelief vanished from his eyes. They smiled back, studying the littlest nooks and crannies of her face. The freckles that spread out over her nose and cheeks. The lines and crevices of her lips before pressing his own to hers again. Likewise, her eyes traced over the new and unfamiliar markings on his face. Small and narrow scars cut along his lips, jawline, cheeks, and eyebrows. His nose looked a little different than she remembered, as though he had received multiple blows to it that it failed to heal properly after a while.

Best of all was when his eyes searched hers and she could see her reflection in them. Warmth brewed within her stomach and spread up and outward to her arms. She felt beautiful in his eyes. Cherished. Loved.

The shadows in the clearing were lengthening as the fireflies came out to dance and the crickets began to chirp. The heat of the day ebbed as a cool night breeze ruffled the sleeves of the T-shirt he gave her. His T-shirt. His scent lingered faintly on it, mixing with her own. She liked the smell of him on her. She liked the smell of him now, with his arms around her, and his lips continuing their soft caresses.

Despite the tenderness of his touch, the air around them was shifting, whispering their innermost desires and drawing them closer. The need to be near him, to touch, taste, and inhale his ever-increasing intoxicating musk that seeped from his pores. A growing need and ache for more consumed her.

Could he feel it too? It was as though the energy in the earth and the forest around them was humming in approval and celebration of their union.

Drawing him closer, she pressed herself flush against his chest, eliciting a growl to rumble up his throat. Moisture pooled beneath her at the sound of it, as the bulge in his pants grew bigger against her mound. His excitement fueled her own as she pressed herself against him.

She murmured his name as his kisses intensified. His tongue met hers as she raked her fingers over his back.

He growled her name into her mouth as she tugged on the back of his shirt. "I should stop. We should stop."

A faint sound like a whine escaped her as her hands drifted lower, tugging more earnestly on his shirt. Skin. She wanted to touch his flesh. Feel the bend and flex of his muscles under the palms of her hands.

"No," she let out in a breathy whisper. "I don't want to stop. I want this. I want to be yours."

Finally, her fingers had pulled up enough of his shirt to brush against his skin underneath, eliciting a groan of pleasure in their wake.

He broke away from her lips to yank his shirt off before returning, his mouth hungrier than before. He pulled her tightly against him, urging her to shift the placement of her legs and put her weight on her knees. His hands explored along her back, molding into her curves and muscle. His heady musk seeping from his exposed flesh, growing hotter under her touch, was intoxicating, like a drug she wanted to indulge in no matter the consequences of taking it.