Page 4 of Claimed by Him

“You have an amazing ass,” he said as he ran his hands over both cheeks before dropping one hand down between my legs. “Damn, you’re wet.”

I nodded and braced myself on my forearms. He shoved two fingers inside me, and I let out a shaky breath. His fingers pumped in and out of me, twisting on every other thrust until he could add a third finger.

“Fuck!” I slapped the countertop. “Just get on with it!”

He chuckled and pulled his fingers out. “All right.”

A moment later, he was pushing inside me, an inch at a time. I let out a long groan as my body stretched and molded itself around him. When he was finally inside, he reached under me and put his hands over my breasts, squeezing them for a moment before moving his hands back to my hips. He set a brutal pace, knowing that I’d tell him if he was being too rough. He hadn’t gotten to that point yet. If anything, a part of me wished he’d push just a little bit further.

I wasn’t going to complain though. Each snap of his hips sent a ripple of painful pleasure through me, driving me toward another orgasm, though it wouldn’t come soon enough to catch him if I didn’t help it along. Reaching underneath me, I pressed my fingers against my clit and made short, brisk circles – the best way to get me off after I’d already come once. Just as Clay’s rhythm started faltering, I came again.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I chanted as white-hot pleasure exploded through my body.

Clay was talking too, but I didn’t pay much attention to what he was saying. All I cared about was that the tension in my body had faded. I’d done what I’d come here to do.

After a couple seconds, he pulled out and moved away to take care of the condom. I rested a few moments longer and then straightened. I glanced at the clock. Dammit. Not enough time to attempt to go back to sleep.

I bent over to pick up my underwear and then went to the door for my pants. “I’m heading back,” I called. He was in the bathroom, but I knew he could hear me.

“You want a ride?”

“No,” I said. “I still have time to run back, shower, and get to class on time.”

“I’ll see you there then.”

I heard the shower turn on as I pulled on my shoes. We both knew he only offered me a ride to be polite. No one at Quantico could know that Clay and I had been sleeping together. He wasn’t my supervisor, but I doubted anyone would make that much of a distinction. I was eleven weeks into FBI training, and he was a guest lecturer. Not exactly kosher, even if we’d known each other before.

It didn’t matter though. Once training was over, I’d be off to wherever I was assigned, and Clay would be off to the next lecture. We’d keep in touch, cross paths, maybe fuck. It’d never be anything more than that.