Page 13 of Claimed By Lock

"Not yet." I keep the same maddening pace, barely there, just enough to wind her up. My other arm is pinned under her, so I use it to palm her breast, rolling her nipple between my fingers. "I want to feel you shake first."

"You're evil."

"You'll thank me in a minute."

She's trembling now, her whole body taut against mine. I can feel her pulse racing, feel the way she's trying to grind against my hand for more friction. I don't give it to her. Just keep circling, slow and steady, pressing kisses to her neck, her shoulder, the soft spot behind her ear. Until she's panting and desperate and right on the edge?—

Then I stop.

"Lock." It comes out broken.

"Shh." I slide two fingers inside her instead, curling them up, and her fury dissolves into a moan. "I've got you."

I fuck her with my fingers, slow and deep, my thumb finding her clit again. Building her back up. She's so sensitive, so ready, and this time when I feel her getting close I don't stop. I press harder, move faster, and she comes with a sob, clenching around my fingers, her whole body shuddering against me.

I work her through it, gentling my touch as she comes down. When she finally goes limp in my arms, I pull my hand away and press a kiss to her temple.

"Good?"

"I can't feel my legs."

"That's a yes."

She turns in my arms to face me, eyes soft and dazed. Her hand finds my cock, hard and aching, and strokes me slow.

"Inside me," she says. "I want you inside me again."

I don't argue. I roll her onto her back and settle over her and sink into her with a groan.

This time is different. Slower. I can feel everything — the way she tightens around me, the way her breath hitches when I hit a certain angle, the way her fingers dig into my ass pulling me deeper. I brace myself on my forearms and watch her face as I move.

"God, you feel good," she whispers.

"So do you." I drop my head to kiss her, slow and deep, matching the rhythm of my hips.

She wraps her legs around my waist and I grind into her, hitting her clit with every stroke. We build together this time, unhurried, until she's gasping against my mouth and I can feel her starting to flutter around me.

"Come for me," I tell her. "Want to feel it."

She does — and I follow, burying myself deep and groaning her name.

For a long moment we just lie there, tangled up, neither of us willing to move.

"Okay," she finally says. "That was worth the wait."

I laugh, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Glad to deliver."

I pull out slowly, then gather her against me. She curls into my chest, boneless and satisfied.

"Stay tonight," she murmurs. Not a question this time.

"I'll stay."

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I ignore it. It buzzes again. And again.

"You should get that," she murmurs.

Three texts in a row usually means something. I reach over and check.