Hunted: A Claiming Novella (The Claiming)

by T. A. Grey

  Penelope held onto his shoulders for dear life, lest she fall and end his glorious touch. She never wanted him to get enough of her either!

  “Please,” she murmured, unable to voice any of her deeper thoughts.

  He chuckled—the sound of deep, male satisfaction. It was the kind of laugh that made her quim spasm. For him. It was all about him. Her husband.

  “Please, what?” he asked, plucking at her nipples. First one, then the other. Then his touch vanished from her breasts, leaving her turgid nipples to strain into the cool breeze, puckering for more.

  When she opened her mouth to protest, he gave in and squeezed her breasts roughly, wringing a throaty moan from her.

  “Please, what?” he repeated, still taunting her. “Please suck on these sexy little nipples?”

  She nodded so quick she almost head-butted him. He chuckled at her before that glorious head of dark hair lowered to her breast and his lips parted.

  Yes, please suck on me!

  The first sensation raked her stiff nipple. A lick. Wet and velvety soft. Another pass, this one twirling around her puckered flesh. He moved to the other breast, ignoring the nipple straining for his attention. He worked them both up to equal hardness, until she was squirming and panting against him. Mindless but to the pleasure he gave her. Mindless for more.

  “Nice and hard, just how I like them,” he praised.

  After they were sufficiently hard enough for him, and she finally thought he was going to suck on them and end her agony—he surprised her by taking her to the ground. Penelope was more than ready to have his weight bear down upon her, to take him inside her body.

  But he did none of those things.

  Ryon proved just how patient he could be—and how infuriating—when he followed her down to lay at her side. His hand spanned her waist applying pressure to keep her flat to the ground. He couldn’t keep her legs from scissoring in need though, nor her pelvis from undulating.

  He watched her from behind heated lashes. His gaze raking over every inch of her, lingering on her bared breasts for a pause. “You’re so beautiful. Makes a man question how lucky he is.”

  “Lucky enough to take his time, apparently.” Her snarky comment didn’t go unnoticed and earned her a meaningful smirk.

  “Patience leads to rewards, love.” The way he said it made her tremble. The kinds of rewards he could give her would be incredible.

  Leaning down, he placed a swift kiss on her mouth before grazing the corners of her mouth with his lips. He made his way down over the slender expanse of her neck, over the bones at her collar, then ever southward over the tops of her breasts. His lips skimming the surface of her flesh, his tongue darting out to flick her nipple.

  The tight peak bobbed against his tongue and Penelope arched against him, moaning, “Ryon,” as her hands threaded through his thick dark hair. Aching, yearning, wishing for more.

  “I love hearing you moan my name like that. I could get used to it.”

  “Oh, please, would you touch me proper. I need it so bad!” She was about to fly out of the seat of her dress unless he eased her. A tight knot of hunger overtook her. Her skin felt stretched too tight, quim wet and throbbing to be filled.

  “Touch you proper, eh.” He moved like an animal attacking. Only it was his lips wrapping around her nipple and suckling.

  “Aaa—yeee!” she cried out. Her back arched clear off the ground. Searing, stimulating vibrations trembled powerfully through her body.

  Ryon growled like an animal, his fingers molding her breast in a brutal grip. His tongue flicked, lips suctioned as he worked her.

  The sensations were too intense, yet she didn’t want it to end. She walked the tightrope between eroticism and discomfort.

  His hand slid down her belly, dipping with a whisper over her mons. Slowly, he rucked up her dress.

  “Yes, yes,” she chanted.

  He moved to her other breast to lave it with the same attention, leaving her wet nipple exposed to the air. Another shiver racked over and she bucked against him.

  “Patience,” he whispered against her breast.

  Patience? How in the world he had this much patience already, she found incredible.

  Deciding to even the odds, Penelope ran her hand down Ryon’s chest to cup his manhood. His cock throbbed in her palm.

  Ryon pulled away, tossing his head back on a hiss. “Ah…damn.”

  That’s right.

  Feeling thoroughly wicked now, Penelope unlaced his trousers to free him. Long and thick and heavy, it bounced from his groin. Her mouth salivated as she wrapped her fingers around his girth. A dark thatch of hair surrounded him, and tucked up beneath his shaft was a tight sac of seed. He looked about ready to spill. Only a few strokes away from exploding. She had to physically control her salivating.

  “I want this in me.”

  She stroked him. His flesh hot to the touch, skin soft as silk. Creamy wetness covered the swollen tip of him and she licked her lips at the sight of it.

  “Let me…” she began to say, leaning to move down his body.

  He caught her with a quick denial and pressed her back onto the ground, kissing her hard.

  Their teeth clashed, tongues locked in battle.

  Partway on top of her now, she spread her legs wide and he finished rucking her dress to her waist. Sitting on his knees between her legs, he stared down at her sex, with his trousers shoved down his muscular thighs.

  He stared at her quim, covered in white lace with a golden patch of hair. He rubbed his thumb over her panties, wetness coating his finger. His teeth gnawed on his bottom lip; beads of sweat had formed at his forehead. His breathing grew deeper too. Heavier. This excited him, which only ramped her passions higher.

  Suddenly he bared his teeth, anger flashing in his eyes, and he yanked her panties down with brute strength. Material snapped, tore. Ripped, he threw the panties away, forgotten. Her exposed quim lay in wait for him. He licked his lips looking at her, then ran his thumb gently across her wet folds.

  From bud to center, he stroked more and more. Pressing deeper, harder.

  “A little wet,” he said, his voice no more than a rasp.

  All she could do was nod in agreement.

  “God, I want to taste you.”

  Her heart skipped a beat as he spread her knees wide and pushed her thighs open as he gazed her.

  “Pink and ripe…the best kind of quim to—” he stopped himself from finishing the statement, grinning.

  Penelope gave him a lopsided grin understanding full well what he meant.

  His head lowered and he buried his tongue in her folds. Licking and tasting, fingers stroked teasingly outside of her body, daring to dip the barest of inches inside her. To tease her with what could be. Or, with what would be, she corrected.

  She didn’t expect it. The pleasure had already been so intense, her sex dripping for him. He smeared her arousal around, licking her up before settling in on her bud. Stiff, it waited for him, and he worked it with stabbing focus, quick magical flicks that bowed her back off the dirt and buried her most precious part against his face.

  She grabbed onto his shoulders, the material of his shirt bunching in her clammy fists. She writhed against his twirling tongue, against his face—aching to find the release pent up inside her. He nuzzled her heated flesh, fingers teasing her entrance when she wished they’d slam inside her.

  Breaths grew erratic. He made an ardent growl against her and that was it.

  Shivering in chaotic spasms, she came apart by the seams.

  Back bowing, she burst in waves coming from deep within the pit of her stomach and radiating outward. He groaned against her bud, working her flesh faster to prolong the sensations.

  Vision blackened. Only pleasure consumed her. Enveloped her.

  His fingers gently speared inside her wet sheathe, her sex muscles milking his fingers as she quivered in the vestiges of climax. The pleasure gently swept away like a receding wave from the shore
line. Ryon pulled back from her licking his lips.

  Boneless,yet unfulfilled. That’s how she felt.

  Unable to take the sight of her juices on his lips, she pulled herself up by his hair and kissed it all away. Her flavor mixed with his masculine taste created a delicious, wicked flavor she’d never forget.

  He yanked himself away, frustration and hunger guiding his movements. He whipped off his shirt. She lifted up to help him as much as possible, but his cock caught her attention and once again she fisted him.

  Pump, pump.

  His stomach muscles twitched and flexed as he fought for control.

  He sucked in a sharp breath. “Shouldn’t do that, love.”

  “Why’s that?”

  She had a feeling she knew the answer.

  Pump, squeeze, stroke.

  He shuddered before pulling her hand away. “Or I’m going to come on you and not in you. As your husband, I demand our first time be inside my wife’s body.”

  Fire sparkled in her eyes. Just when she thought he couldn’t possibly make her hotter—he did.

  “Please do.”

  It was the only thing she could think to say.

  Apparently it spoke to him, because he finished divesting of his clothes, then climbed back atop her, his weight deliciously heavy. His warm chest flattening her breasts. She felt suffocated with his strength and loved every second of it.

  His lips found hers again. Slow and gentle, the pace easing to slow lapping movements. Gentle moans floated around them, the air filled with the scent of sex. She gripped the solid muscles of his back, wanting him to know with every touch, every kiss how much she loved him.

  His hips moved between her thighs. His cock fell atop her sex and he pumped his hips, her wetness making him glide easily across her quim.

  The way he bumped her tight bundle of nerves made her breath catch. More than that, inside, an ache formed in the pit of her. An ache that panged with each mimicked thrust he performed. It wanted him. It needed him to perform this very same task, but inside her body. She wanted her husband.

  “Please,” she begged, muscles trembling in need.

  Sweat dripped down his neck, made his shoulders slick. A faint tremble shook in his shoulders too. He’d finally had enough. Even the strongest man could only have so much self-control.

  “Want to take you now,” he said, his face buried her neck.

  His hands ran across her body, plumping her breast, squeezing her inner thighs open. She wrapped her legs around his until they were entwined.

  A kiss, then he looked down into her eyes. They were locked in intimacy. He lined the head of his manhood at her center and nudged. Her wet flesh gave, surrounding him as he sunk in.

  Inch by agonizing inch, he pushed inside. Like the sword to the sheath. A soft cry tore from her throat. It felt so good, she couldn’t contain the cries from escaping.

  That sound snapped Ryon’s last thread of control.

  Staring into her eyes, sweating dripping down his temple, he caught her chin in his hand. Lips parted, breaths chaotic. “Pen, I love you.”

  She never had a chance to say it back. With a grunt, he pressed in deep. Eyes locked, he filled her, slow but sure. Stretching her with his girth. Letting her walls suck on him with natural tightness, the dampness easing his way while creating sparks of pleasure the deeper he plunged.

  “Ryon,” she moaned.

  Ryon buried himself in her body. She held on for dear life. His size was incredible, filling and stretching her, touching places deep inside her that had never been touched. They both trembled, gasping for air on the precipice of overwhelming passions.

  He withdrew slowly, taking his time before shoving deep to the hilt.

  “God…damn…” he gasped in disbelief.

  “I—ah—agree,” she panted back as he filled her full again.

  And again.

  He covered her body, shoulders pressed hard to the ground on either side of her head. His hips worked them into a frenzy, building layers of tense pressure that must be released.

  She wouldn’t last much longer. The sensations pumping through her blood were too intense to bear. Each time he butted his cock inside her, he touched millions of sensitive nerves that had been needing him there doing this. She relished his touch, his pounding thrusts.

  “Come one more time,” he gritted between clenched teeth.

  Penelope slid her hand down her stomach to her mons. She found her bud, stiff with arousal. With the barest of pressure, she grazed her bud. Muscles bunched in her hips and stomach, chest lifting off the ground. It wouldn’t take much to come with him, she realized.

  Her entire sex squeezed like a vice on Ryon’s cock as she grazed her bud with passing swipes. Ryon’s head dropped back, eyes rolling heavenward.

  “Ah, fuck. Hurry, Pen. I won’t last long.”

  The pace quickened. Turning rough and wild.

  Ryon hammered into her with the hunger of a savage, scraping her sensitive nerve endings. Their lips mashed together and she fisted his hair to hold on as her body was worked to a fever pitch.

  Her quim convulsed around him making him groan. His thrusts turned harder, more potent. She slid on the grass, rocking against him from the force of his movements. He hung suspended near the edge of glory, so close. She could feel the tension in his body at holding off for her.

  Fortunately, he did not have to wait much longer.

  His hands touched her hair, sliding in deep to hold her as he thrust and took and gave, his heavy breaths panting in her ear. She rubbed herself one final time—that was all she needed.

  Her body exploded. Blinding, erotic pulses swept through her from head to toe. Cries tore from her throat, following his grunts as he plunged his cock faster. Guided by her twitching sheathe muscles, her climax milked him, aching for his release.

  “R-Ryon,” she panted.

  Ryon slammed his mouth down on hers and pushed his big cock as deep as he could inside her. His balls slapped against her bottom and then—as her climax finished pulsing through her—he jetted his thick, hot release inside her.

  Grunting, he thrust mindlessly, her body drawing out every little spurt of cum from him. He filled her full with his seed, sowing the fruition of their lovemaking.

  It took long minutes before they came to their senses. Soft kisses were shared as they caught their breaths. Penelope giggled and couldn’t seem to stop. Ryon kissed her again as he extracted himself from her and began pulling his clothes back on.

  “That was wonderful!” she gushed dreamily.

  His cock, still semi-erect hanging from his hips, made her lick her lips. She wanted to suck on it, to play with it until it jumped in her hand with the urge to come.

  “Of course it was,” he said. “Because you’re wonderful.”

  She melted, actually awing, before he kissed her again.

  “Get your dress on. I need to take you home so we can do this again.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Again?”

  He smiled that devastating grin that lit up his whole face and crinkled the corner of his eyes. “Yes, again and again.”

  “I love you so much, Ryon Ward. Have I ever told you that?”

  “I believe you have, but feel free to say it often and freely.”

  “Well then, I love you, husband, and I mean it. It’s scary in a way.”

  The way he sighed told her how he felt more than words could. He understood exactly what she was talking about, and he agreed.

  “Pen, love isn’t something I feel for many people. You’re it for me. And that’s all there is to it.”

  They set off into the night for home, joking about their horse, which had become untethered and run off. It was the best walk she’d ever taken, because she had her husband holding her hand the whole way.

  Chapter 19

  Three Weeks Later

  Penelope glanced at her husband coyly for the fifth time since he’d come into Prima Donna’s.

  She was just wrappin
g up her shift at the dance hall. The ballet business was booming more than ever, thanks to all the mishaps surrounding her Claiming Ceremony. Plus, it helped that she married the greatest war hero alive. With the new burst in audience attendance, Penelope and the other dancers were in talks to create longer shows. It was all exciting because it meant she could dance more. Second to her love of her husband, was her love of dance.

  Her husband waited near the back of the hall where he could easily slip backstage and go to her room. Ryon had been very busy of late, leaving less time for them to eat a meal together, let alone spend any real time together.

  She was itchy—with want. From the look of his bunched shoulders and furrowed brow, her husband was pent up as well. Oh how she looked forward to rectifying that.

  Penelope and the other dancers finished their reel and strolled off stage to the crowd’s applause.

  “Great run!” a dancing girl told her.

  “You too!” Penelope replied, already turning toward her room.

  Ryon stepped into the hall from the opposite end of the tunnel backstage and they each marched toward her dressing room. She was so hot for him—did he know?

  His eyes caressed her body with hungry sweeps over her sequined, fitted dress. Her breath caught in anticipation.

  He opened her dressing room door. She stepped inside, and he followed behind her. The door shut with a soft snap. Nerves tingled in her belly.

  As soon as she turned around, he was there swarming her, cupping her cheek and leaning down for a kiss. The kiss turned wet and hot. Her back hit the door.

  “I missed you too,” she said, kissing her way up to the stubble covering square jaw.

  He grunted. She was learning he wasn’t much for words once the foreplay started. Unless they were to praise her, which he did often.

  He cupped her breasts, pulling them out of their binding as she worked quickly on opening the ties at the back of her costume. The snaps opened, ties became loose, and he slammed his mouth down on hers as he worked on pulling her panties down her legs.

  She opened his trousers, stroking his cock as she found it.