Claimed (The Lair of the Wolven #1) by J.R. Ward

And pulled the covers back to welcome him.

Daniel came to her, his beautiful body moving fluidly, powerfully.

“I’m still dripping,” he murmured.

“That’s okay with me.”

With that, she held her arms out, and he didn’t hesitate. He laid down beside her and pulled the covers into place over them. And then they were melding, her breasts pressing into his bare chest through her T-shirt and his hips coming up against hers. When he rolled her onto her back and propped himself up on his elbows, his hair dripped onto her face.

Lydia pushed it back, stroked it back. “I want you.”

“And I ache for you.”

As he moved his hips onto her, she spread her legs to make him room, and his weight was delicious, pressing her into the mattress. Running her hands over his shoulders and down his heavy arms, his skin was warm and smooth, the muscles underneath rigid and powerful. Looking up at him, she thought he was magnificent, more animal than man—especially as his glowing eyes bored into her own.

“Lydia … ,” he whispered as he dropped his mouth to hers.

She moaned as the kiss swept over her, and then she tilted her head to the side, opening herself up to him even more. As she arched into him and breathed deep, she couldn’t believe it was happening, that this was happening … the nakedness, the raw grind of hunger, the fact that she wasn’t going to stop.

And neither was he.

Lydia was absolutely going to see this to its full culmination—because in the back of her mind, a rock-solid belief had coalesced out of the ether of present thought and short-term memory: They were running out of time. The two of them, Daniel and herself, had a clock ticking and the numbers were speeding to the zero hour.

How she knew this, she didn’t have a clue—

Oh, wait. Maybe it was because people were dying and/or disappearing all around her.

On that note, she slipped her hands down under the covers and found the towel. The tuck that had kept the thing in place had loosened, and as she shifted her hands onto its damp softness, she wanted him fully naked.

So she took it off. As she pulled the barrier to the side, he lifted his hips to help—and then he was against the soft folds of her PJ bottoms, his arousal a hard brand on her inner thigh. Instantly, the kissing got more involved, his tongue seeking hers, probing, licking. Dear Lord, he was like a drug that made reality disappear, nothing but sensation grounding her—and she was so fine with that.

God, she was done thinking. It was just such a relief to give in, give up, let go, in this sacred, private space.

And when she felt his hand drift down onto her breast, she surged up to him. “More …”

She was the one who pulled up her T-shirt—and then took that thing off like it was tearing up her skin. And as the cool air hit her nipples, they peaked and he let out a growl.

“Don’t hold back,” she said. “I want it all.”

As he lowered himself down to her breasts, his muscles surged under his skin, his arms flaring out in a bow as he suspended his talented mouth over her collarbones, her sternum … the underside of both. The kisses were soft, just a little tickling of his lips, but she felt everything and relished the exquisite tease of it all.

Finally, he nuzzled at her, then … licked at one of her tips.

Calling out his name, she speared her fingers into his thick hair, torqued under him, and pitched her head back. In response, he latched on to her nipple, sucking for a time before rolling it with his tongue and flicking at it. The pleasure felt too much for her to hold in. Writhing against him, she swept her hands down to the small of his back and then she wrapped her legs around him.

So that her core was where his erection hit.

Now he was the one growling, and as if he couldn’t control his pelvis, he started pumping against her—

All at once, he stopped everything. Pushed himself off her. Held himself over her.

His eyes were closed and he was breathing through his open mouth. Looking down between their bodies, she saw his massive arousal, poised, ready … straining.

“Daniel?” she asked.

For a moment, she was worried he was going to put an end to it all. Had she done something wrong—

“I got to slow the fuck down,” he panted. “Fuck … Lydia …”

As he moved to the side, his sex brushed against her hip—and he hissed and bit his lower lip hard enough to nearly draw blood.

“Don’t stop,” she begged.

His lids popped open. “Oh, I’m not going to. Hell no.”

With that, he lowered his mouth to her breast again—but he didn’t stay there. He started going down her body. First, it was off to the side, on her ribs. Then it was across her stomach … and on to the curve of her hip.

At first, she wasn’t sure what he was doing—but then she closed her eyes and bowed up.

Because she realized exactly what he was doing.

His thumbs hitched the waistband of her PJs and she lifted her hips as he pulled down the loose plaid flannel. And then they were both naked. Thank God.

Daniel continued on, his mouth kissing a path to her waist, to her hip … and going lower still. When his palms caressed her thighs, she bent up her knees and opened herself.

“Lydia,” he moaned as he drew his tongue along her lower abdomen.

Now she writhed, her peaked breasts undulating toward the ceiling.