Claimed (Outlaws #1)

“Good night,” she murmured.

She sighed softly, cocooned by Connor’s warmth and the bliss of having him there with her. And maybe she would’ve even fallen asleep, maybe she would’ve slept peacefully in his arms all night long, if something hadn’t dawned on her.

Those dark eyes, black as night…

Connor’s angry words clicked a switch in her brain, solving the uneasy puzzle that their conversation had left her with.

Dominik didn’t have dark eyes. He had light gray ones. So light they resembled the transparent icicles that formed on the roof of the compound every winter.

The man Connor had witnessed leaving the bloody scene of the crime… the man who’d slaughtered Connor’s wife and the rest of his people…

It couldn’t have been her brother.

18

Hudson woke up to the feel of Connor nuzzling her breasts and the erotic scrape of his stubble against her naked flesh. He did this often now, waking her up in the middle of the night with his mouth or his hands. Coaxing her body to life while her mind remained blissfully drowsy, consciousness slowly floating back to her with each stroke of his fingers and brush of his tongue.

He’d spent every night in her bed for the past two weeks, but she knew she was living on borrowed time. Tamara knew who she was. All it would take was one visit from the woman and Connor would know the truth too.

Hudson had to tell him herself. She’d already decided to, the night he’d told her about his wife’s death, but every time she thought she’d worked up the courage, the words refused to leave her mouth and —

Oh fuck, that felt good. His mouth was on her nipple. Hot suction and the slightest scrape of teeth, rough enough to bring a sting of pain, but he soothed it rapidly with his tongue, a long lick that distracted her from her thoughts and summoned a happy little sigh.

His chuckle warmed her nipple. “Was wondering when you’d wake up.”

The cabin was bathed in darkness, so all she could see was his head between her breasts. “How long have you been at it?” she teased.

“Playing with your tits? A couple minutes.”

“Pervert.”

It was too dark to see his face, but she felt him smiling, the curve of his mouth tickling her breast. “You love it.”

She certainly did.

She loved it even more when his hand traveled toward her stomach, circling her belly button before stroking a path down to her pussy. Rough fingertips grazed her clit in a sweet caress that made her suck in a breath.

“My favorite sound in the world,” he told her.

“What is?”

“That breathy little noise you make when I do this.” He rubbed her clit with the pad of his thumb, and sure enough, a breathy whimper was his reward.

Connor’s lips traveled to her neck, planting slow, torturous kisses in time to the slow torturous strokes of his thumb on her clit. His erection was heavy against her hip, and he moved in a slow grind, branding her skin with the hot evidence of his arousal.

She never knew what to expect from him. Whether it would be hard and fast. Filthy and demanding. Languid and teasing. But one factor remained unchanged – the hunger. He was always as hungry for her as she was for him. It didn’t matter if Rylan was there. It didn’t matter if they were alone, or being watched by every person in Lennox’s playroom. Connor could fuck her in front of five hundred people and he’d still be the only one she’d see. Just him, with his rough voice and his wicked touch, and the way he looked at her like she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met.

She grasped his chin as his lips teased her jaw, tugging his head up and molding their lips together, and the only thought in her mind was perfection. Their mouths, their bodies, everything. They fit so perfectly that emotion clogged her chest and her hands became frantic, reaching for his cock to guide him between her legs.

“Hold on, baby. We need —” He let out a husky groan as she stroked his erection. “Condom,” he choked out.

He leaned over her and fumbled for the night table, and then he was back where she wanted him, the blunt head of his cock nudging her opening.

She was so wet and ready for him that his entire length slid inside her with ease. Filling her, stretching her, and the sense of completion that washed over her extended far past the delicious way his body completed hers. He completed her. He was intense and fierce and beautiful, and there was no one else she wanted to be in this bed with. No, in this world with.

“Don’t hold back,” she murmured when he tried to go slow. “I need… all of you. I need to feel every inch of you.”

Her hips moved in a frantic upward thrust, and he hissed in surprise before quickening the pace.

“Harder,” she begged.