He knew he still had problems, but something about Cassie’s love, and waking up in her bedroom, was transforming him. The morning sun crept up quietly through the trees, slanting in through the curtained windows in the muted, white-gold tones of winter. It was a softer way to wake up. Gentler, like his hand on her skin.
But Patrick wouldn’t stay gentle for long.
“Wake up, princess.” Nosing under her hair, he ran his chin over the sensitive spot on the back of her neck he’d gotten to know so well, grinning when she shifted and pressed back against him. “Good morning. Happy Friday.”
“Too early,” she mumbled. “Don’t want to get out of bed yet.”
“Who said anything about getting out of bed?”
Her little groan stiffened him even more, as did the way she teasingly pulled away. “We don’t have time. You’ll make us late for work.”
Patrick slid a hand around to her belly. Cassie’s words didn’t match the reflexive pitch of her hips when he lightly pressed down. She wasn’t really protesting. It was part of the game they both loved to play, the one where she fought and he fought back, although she’d realized lately the anonymous way he’d attacked her in the hotel wasn’t for her. She didn’t want it to feel like she was with some angry stranger. She didn’t want it faceless. She wanted to know it was him. A man she trusted.
A man she loved.
“Well you’d better not make it too hard for me then.” His words were half playful, and half a threat.
The fact that she loved him still sent him reeling, as did the low, hungry noise that came out of her. It was a green light, a gun fired at the start of a race. Patrick pressed down lightly on her belly, possessive and demanding. Her hips rocked in time with his hand, her breath quickening.
“Now, show me you can play nice, and this will be enjoyable for both of us.”
He reached between their heated bodies and rode one finger lightly down her panties, tapping at the crack of her ass until her breath caught. Her right hand reached up, seeking purchase on the pillow, and he grabbed it with his other one, holding her down as he drew a circle around her back entrance.
“You gonna show me how much you like this?” he asked. “Gonna show me how wet you get?”
“No,” she groaned, another feeble objection.
“No?” He urged her onto her stomach. “You saying no to me?”
A grunt was his answer as he released her hand. He dipped the other one lower, between her thighs to the soaked patch on the cotton.
“Dirty little liar. You’re saying no to tease me.”
He yanked her panties down, then shoved her harder against the bed, fingers spanning between her shoulder blades, careful and brutal. There was a fine line between scaring her and pleasing her, between tormenting her and pleasing himself, and every time they got down and dirty together, he edged it further, found a new boundary to push. Being with Cassie was like being with a different woman every night, but it was always the same. Always her. And he never wanted anyone else.
“Fuck you,” she whispered, and the words went straight to his dick.
“Oh, gonna be a bitch now, are we?” He wedged his thighs between hers and pried them open. “Gonna make me be mean?”
“You think I’m gonna—ohhhh, God.”
What was that?” He drove his fingers inside her, unapologetically rough, seeking out that little ridge that made her soak the sheets.
“Shit. Don’t. Please.”
Harsh breath skittered over Cassie’s words. There was a part of her that didn’t want this, and a part that did. It embarrassed and shocked her, how he got her body to react, but it was a button he loved to push, one he was going to push right now.
“Don’t what? This?” He did it again. Again. Faster. Harder. She tried to buck him off her, even as her pussy drenched his fingers. The dichotomy of her struggling and giving in was fucking glorious.
“Please,” she said, but her tone was different now. Not a complaint, a request—a hungry, desperate one.
“Please what?”
“Please.” She panted. “Do it. Get it. Make me like it.”
He knew what she was saying. They’d played at her back entrance on and off for weeks, getting her ready, preparing her. “Is that what you want?”
She nodded. He slid his fingers free and pushed himself up to kneeling. “Stay put.”
He was out of breath when he angled himself toward the nightstand, his cock straining at the confines of his briefs. What she did to him was insane.
“Make you like it,” he murmured, preparing the toy. “You’ve liked the feeling of my pinky back there, haven’t you?”
She nodded again. Her nightshirt had ridden up her back, and he gazed over the sinful bend of her spine, the dimples above that luscious, round bottom. He might have to ask her how she felt about spanking because seriously, goddamn. Positioning himself behind her, her drizzled lube on that puckered, tight hole, then eased the plug into it.
“Breathe,” he said, then pressed down. Slowly. So slowly. He paused when she hissed and he felt resistance, helping her along by sliding a finger from his other hand inside her. “Take it for me, princess. Take it and I’ll make it so good for you.”
Gentle in-and-out pumps stopped her from bearing down. Cassie whined and turned her face into the pillow.
“That’s it,” he said. “There you go.”
Patrick watched in amazement as her body surrendered to him. When the toy was fully seated, he sat back and stared. Facedown. Honey-thick thighs open. Glittering jewel in her ass, her pussy pink and open for him.
She was open. That was the true elixir—Cassie with her armor shed, trusting him completely.
“You have no idea how sexy you look.”
She responded with a tight shake of her shoulders. He tapped once at the plug’s base, and her shoulders hiked up on a gasp.
“Good?” he asked, even though he knew the answer.
“Yes.” Her voice broke on the word. “I want—”
An experimental squeeze to her butt cheeks, thumbs easing them away, then back together, drew a delicious and heady noise from her. Patrick kicked his legs behind him to yank off his briefs. Hands on her hips, he maneuvered her onto her back, listening to the hitches in her breathing as the toy hit her in different places. Gripping her wrists lightly, her pinned her down, affording them both the feeling of capture.
“What do you want, Cassie?”
They were words he always asked, simply because he wanted to hear her answer.
She looked up at him, and her eyes were glazed over, clouded with pleasure. “You.”
“Me too.” Patrick proved that to her with a slow, tender kiss.
They were still kissing when he lined himself up and sank inside. She was scorching, snug and sloppy wet. Knowing he’d gotten her so completely aroused, and that there was a toy up her ass he’d put there nearly triggered an immediate orgasm. He could feel it inside her too, pressing at both of them through the lining of her body. Cassie rocked against him, breaking away from the kiss in first a cry, then a frantic, wild sound she’d never made before. There was a shocked look in her eyes.
“Touch my clit,” she begged. “Fuck, can’t believe…gonna come.”
Oh, Jesus. “Me too.”
She was dragging him over the edge with her, involuntary spasms of her body jerking him toward his own release. Letting her wrists go, he held himself up with one hand against the bed, and slid the other between them. Three quick swipes over that tight, slick knot and she crashed into it, bucking and thrashing beneath his pistoning hips. He held out until he felt her clench a second time, and then the pleasure ripped him inside out. He emptied himself into her, her name almost a sob when the last tremor hit.
Spent, Patrick dropped his head to her shoulder. “Still don’t like me?”
“I hate you.”
He kissed the sweaty column of her throat. “I love you too.”
Cassie winced as he pulled
out and slid the toy free, but her discomfort was short lived. A lazy, relaxed grin spread across her face.
“You make it way too hard for me to want to get to work on time.”
“You can’t be late. Greatness awaits you at the legislature.” Patrick nuzzled her forehead. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up.”
* * *
By the end of the workday, Cassie was still smiling. A good chunk of it was another awesome day at the office. The rest was Patrick.
She exited the T, amazed at how much had changed. One month ago, she and Patrick had reconciled. One year ago tonight, they’d met. And a handful of hours from now, they’d be celebrating both anniversaries in their own special brand of twisted and kinky. But first, they’d be spending a night with their friends.
She pushed through the heavy doors at Barrel ’n’ Flask. The blast of heat she felt inside helped her fingers to thaw as she shed her coat and found her gang at a table in the back.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said, taking a seat on Patrick’s lap instead of the empty one beside him.
“We didn’t miss you much,” Gabe teased, then nodded toward the bar. “Nick’s getting drinks. Patrick already made sure he ordered you a blood-orange cosmo.”
Patrick kissed her shoulder. She could feel his smile behind it. Cassie angled her chin toward him.
“Thank you,” she said to him. “Did you have a good day?”
“I did.”
Another kiss to her shoulder punctuated his words. He was so much happier now, so relaxed. She wasn’t sure if it was them, the new job or the fact that he and his mother had reconciled. Cassie had met her at an intimate Christmas dinner, followed by a raucous New Year’s Eve-slash-moving-out party at Patrick’s apartment that Cassie’s family had flown up for. He also read frequently now, often making their breakfast with a book in his hands, doing the same in bed on the rare nights they didn’t reach for each other before sleep.
A snort dragged Cassie’s attention back to the table. Brady was rolling his eyes.
“You guys were more fun when you argued.”
“Oh, we still argue,” she insisted. “Just not in public.”
Patrick grunted quietly and surreptitiously adjusted himself when no one was looking. Sam arrived a few moments later, followed by Nick and a carefully handled bunch of drinks. They’d ordered some food by the time Jack and Lilly arrived, both of their faces flushed. Cassie would’ve thought it was from the cold, except for the way Lilly’s blush lingered and the way she was clinging to Jack’s side.
“What’s the deal, you two?” Cassie asked, biting off the end of a French fry. Fuck it. She’d work it off in the gym tomorrow. Or have Patrick work it off her.
Jack put an arm around Lilly. “What are you all doing four weeks from tonight?”
Cell phones were picked up, calendars checked. When it looked as if no one had plans, Lilly took off her gloves and revealed a sparkling diamond ring. Cassie jumped up to congratulate them, unable to stop smiling amidst Lilly’s infectiously happy glow. As everyone else swarmed the couple, Cassie settled back down sideways in Patrick’s lap, a buzzing sensation in her belly. They hadn’t discussed his proposal since that night in the airport, and she’d been looking for a time to bring it up again.
Seemed like as good a time as any.
“You think that could be us one day?” she asked as she picked at his sweater, totally cool and casual.
Not.
“Are you reconsidering my offer?” She nodded, and Patrick made a show of smirking at her. “You sure you want that?”
“I am. I think marrying you would be very…” She searched for a word. “Satisfying.”
He snorted. “If your version of satisfying is being legally bound to arguing with you for the rest of my life.”
Cassie smacked his shoulder. “Shut up.”
“Shut up?” Green eyes blazed. She could sense the switch flipped in him, that mean streak going. He squeezed her tightly, almost forcing the breath out of her. “You’re gonna be sorry you said that when I get you home.”
She smiled at him, at this man she once thought she hated, a man who controlled her because she let him with that perfect blend of rough and romantic. She might’ve been too tough to be Cinderella, but she was happy being his princess, and she had the shoes to prove it.
She leaned in close and let him see the playfulness in her own eyes.
“Yes, I will. I’m counting on it.”
Want to read the scene at Jack’s party that started it all? A bonus read in both Cassie and Patrick’s points of view is available FOR FREE to subscribers of Rebecca’s newsletter.
Cassie isn’t looking forward to spending another night bearing witness to more of Patrick Dunham’s playboy ways. And she really doesn’t give a crap about Jack’s birthday. But she’d agreed to show up tonight, and after all—how long had it been since she’d attended an actual party?
So long that she can’t remember.
Patrick has always enjoyed a challenged. And ever since he’d met Cassie Allbright, Esquire, he’s wondered what made her tick. She acts like she hates him, and maybe she truly does. Or maybe she wants him as badly as he wants her.
…Maybe tonight he’ll get to find out.
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Thank you
* * *
I hope you enjoyed Her Claim! Cassie and Patrick’s banter was originally just background comic relief in His Contract, but the two of them latched onto my head like pit bulls and wouldn’t let go until I wrote them. Their stories weren’t easy to write, but I hope I did them justice.
Maybe you loved them as well? Maybe you hated them as much as they hate each other in the beginning of the story? Either way, let me know!
As you might know, reviews aren’t easy to come by, and you, my darling reader, have the power to get others interested in my books. I’d be super appreciative if you took the time to leave me a review, because that helps me, you know, pay my mortgage and stuff! Which means I get to write more books! *muppet flails*
If you’re so inclined, you can leave a review wherever you purchased the book from, and on Goodreads.
Thank you so much for reading!
PS: Don’t forget! You can find cool book extras like playlists, inspiration and more on my book page: http://rgal.ink/lbhrcweb-bm
Acknowledgements
This book never would’ve happened without the help of some amazing people.
Jen, my editor, who eagerly picked up on this book after a year of writer’s block kept me from it, and inspired me to keep going. Thank you for correcting all my bizarre typos, making me laugh with your comments, and for responding to every panicked email. I couldn’t have written this without you.
My fabulous critique partners Marie Lark, Jess, MB, and Kim–your cheerleading kept me going when this book wouldn’t behave.
To my cover artist, Letitia, thank you for working so hard to get the cover right, even when I wasn’t sure what I wanted. And to Carolan, my blurb writer, for tirelessly working and reworking two hundred words in a dozen different ways.
To the staff at the Ancient Spanish Monastery in North Miami Beach, the Coco Plum in Coral Cables, the Ritz Carlton Bal Harbour and Miami Culinary Tours: thank you for answering all my questions, and for making my research trips both informative and delicious!
DJD, thank you for reminding me when this book was kicking my ass to kick it right back. (And it’s not plagiarism when you’re my muse.)
To my family, husband and friends, thank you for putting up with me through another book. And to Natacha, my Spanish lawyer bestie, thank you for a lifetime of friendship, for your amazing insight into this book, and for not being at all weirded out that you were the inspiration for Cassie.
This book is in memory of my late grandpa Henry, whose cigar smoke scent often appears out of nowhere. I miss you always.
Look for these titles by Rebecca Grace Allen
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Legally Bound
His Contract
Her Claim
The Party (*free for newsletter subscribers!)
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The Portland Rebels
The Duality Principle
The Hierarchy of Needs
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The Punishment Doctrine
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Coming Soon:
Legally Bound: Their Discovery
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All of Rebecca’s titles can be found on her author page.
Lawyers know when to play by the rules…and when to break them.
Legally Bound, Book 1
Harvard law professor Jack Archer once balanced his professional life with the private world of dominance, surrender, and trust he shared with his wife. Since cancer stole her a year ago, finding love again—her final wish for him—is the furthest thing from his mind.
From his empty house to the classroom, grief follows his every move. Until he meets a young woman with shadows in her eyes even darker than his own.
Her Claim: Legally Bound Book 2 Page 30