Claimed 12

There was something so familiar. This was not the first time she had looked into the intensity of those ice grey eyes, Asia was certain of it. Who could forget such a hauntingly unique color, the distinct clarity, the way they seemed to bore through her and create a rush that could only be compared to actual physical intimacy. The fact that he was a stranger and on the opposite end of the room only left Asia in a confused state of uneasiness. His eyes almost seemed to glow in the low lighting of the celebration and even though she wanted to, she could not look away.

This was a celebration of passion, music and dance. The music was loud, not blaring, but had enough force that it could be felt in the chest. A steady erotic, rhythmic play of the percussion was a back drop to the give and take of the music. To say that it was romantic was an understatement. It dripped sex. The dancers, a male and a female, glided so sensually in and out of each other's grasp. The stopping and the starting was so well coordinated that their lack of movement was as important as movement. Pauses doubled the effect of swiftness. It was the Rumba in a way Asia had never seen it performed before. The female dancer kicked up her leg and then raised it even higher before gracefully lowering it-torturously slow. The man eased his hand up her thigh, demanding that your eye follow in expectation. Then, he quickly shifted their bodies in one flowing movement. It blocked her vision for just a moment and when she looked again, her mystery man was gone.

She felt relieved by visual absence of his presence. Still, she could feel the effect of his eyes. It was as if they were an extension of his body, touching her where ever they lay. Her eyes darted around the room. She saw nothing, not one sign of him. He was not one likely to be looked over, even in this crowd of the beautiful and exquisitely adorned. Asia gulped down her flute of champagne and grabbed another as the waiter went by. Why did she feel so nervous? Something was getting ready to happen. Her body felt it. Each part of her grew more alert and oh so sensitive. Even her pussy wept in anticipation. She had abandoned her panties earlier, slipping them in the waste basket of the lady's room.

"Are you okay?"

Asia turned, slightly startled, remembering for the first time since she saw those eyes that she was with someone else. She bit her lip. The urge to say "no" was at the tip of her tongue.

"I'm fine," she sighed nervously. "I'm just a little warm."

"It's the dancers," Paul said, looking over the rim of his glass and winking mischievously. She looked so erotic biting that full lip. He couldn't wait to partake. To him, tonight, she looked so exotic. There was barely a trace of the studious academic. "They're sexy. Look at the other couple over there."

Asia followed his eyes to another dancing couple. Another crowd had separated and the couple almost slithered in unison to the music. The dancers were amazing and just seemed to emerge from nowhere at various intervals. Who ever had thought of this concept was a genius. Asia gulped down the rest of her champagne. She could not continue to watch them. With her mystery man on her mind, it was too much.

As she quickly looked back up at her date, he mouthed the word for emphasis with a little too much drama for her taste. "Sexy."

For the first time since they had started dating, Asia felt irritated. She rolled her eyes at him, which was something she rarely did. As a woman of color, it always seemed like a stereotype she did not want to contribute to. And, it was a juvenile way of communicating. It was effective though. She could see an apology wash over him as did the realization of how stupid he looked.

Paul tried to recover, drinking once more from his glass. However, he could not help letting his eyes roam her body. Asia had chosen a sleeveless black dress with a simple form fitting cut that fell across her toned thighs. What made the dress so remarkably her was the delicate black lace. What seemed to show through the lace was her luscious caramel colored skin. To watch her move was to wonder if you could possibly see a hint of something forbidden. It was an illusion though. Well, at least some of it was.

"You are wearing the hell out of that dress," her date whispered in her ear.

Tonight was going to be the night that Paul and Asia took the relationship a bit further. For him this was foreplay. They were ready. Paul's intentions were obvious. However, Asia's sudden shift only led to another cautionary look and the roll of her eyes.

She slightly turned away in an attempt to fight her sudden, unexplainable aversion to Paul. And, there he was, her man with those eyes. He was still watching her, but this time he watched as he moved calmly through the crowd. Asia felt like prey, under the careful watch of this... Man? His expression wore a warning. Her date, still whispering something in her ear had placed his hand on the small of her back and gently pulled her closer to him. At the same moment the music seemed to shoot like a current through her. It was deafening. She heard the word "no", as if a low rumbling voice had spoken into her other ear. Her body responded immediately, without thought, shocking Paul as she pulled away.

Was it her imagination? Had her mystery man slightly raised an eyebrow and nodded his head in approval? Had he actually said "good girl"? Had she actually heard it? Was that his voice echoing in her mind?

Asia placed her own hand at her throat and gasped. Paul reached out for her but she stepped back.

"Asia?" He was concerned now, not out of a hurt sense of pride but actual fear. She looked as if she was going to be ill.

"Asia."

The voice said her name in such a way that Asia actually closed her eyes to feel it resonate inside her. When she opened them, the look on Paul's face filled her with guilt.

"Asia, darling, are you okay?"

"I need..." Her mind raced. "I think I'm going to go to the ladies' room."

"Come on, I'll take you," Paul said, clasping her hand with his.

There was a growl.

"No," Asia snapped, pulling back her hand. She forced a sweet smile. "I'll be okay. You wait here."

She turned around and made her way through the crowd quickly. It seemed to take forever to get to the huge, opened double doors that led to the house gardens. Asia immediately removed her shoes as she approached the end of the intricately laid stone patio. The coolness of damp grass beneath her feat seemed to help as she began to run. She could even feel a breeze swoop down from the distant tree line, carrying such an intoxicating scent. It was his scent, she knew this. It tickled her flushed skin.

There was a huge, ancient stone fountain in the distance. The sound of the water drew her. She sat down on its edge to catch her breath.

"Breathe deeply," the familiar voice commanded. "You will lose consciousness soon if you continue to breathe so shallow."

Asia threw her head back and filled her lungs with air. It took a moment, but the swirling feeling began to subside. She did not dare open her eyes.

"What did you do to me?"

"What have you done to me?" There was an edge of amusement in his voice.

She opened her eyes and watched him stroll toward her. Each stride was so controlled, so deliberate, so dangerous. Asia suddenly wondered if she should run. There was no one anywhere near them. They were totally alone. She could still hear traces of the music drifting across the open space. If she screamed, no one would hear her.

"Would you want to be heard?"

She stood up slowly. Her eyes never left his. How could she have used the word ice before to describe them? They were the palest of grey, full of emotion and heat. They were melting her. Every ounce of defense, every warning signal faded within her. Asia felt pulled to this man. It was not familiarity, it was need. The closer he came the more relieved she felt. He was much larger than she had thought at first, taller, broader. His movements were so graceful that from across the room he seemed more delicate, but this man was a tower of masculinity. With his bowtie undone, the first three buttons to his crisp white dress shirt loose and his dark hair moving with each step over his shoulders, he looked wild. The desire to touch him overwhelmed her and she reached out her hands. He let the jacket to his tux slide down his arms and fall to the ground as he moved forward. Only after she was able to feel the iron strength of him beneath his shirt with the flat of her hands against his chest, did she close her eyes and let her head drift back. She thought that he would kiss her. Asia wanted to feel his lips against her own, ached for it. He rubbed his cheek to hers and let his nose run along her hair line. The fine shading of facial hair he wore was just enough friction to tease her delicate skin. He licked her neck and sucked gently at a spot that pulsated with the beat of her heart.

Asia opened her eyes, although her lids felt so heavy. She was drifting and just wanted to surrender, to fall into him and float. He pulled back just enough so that he could look into her face. Her hair had been pulled up into a loose gathering of her thick curls. He released them and her dark tresses fell to frame her lovely face. He had yet to touch her with his hands.

"You are perfect," his voice was thick and low, "so delicious."

"I don't know you," was all she could manage, breathless and weak.

"Yes you do," he said, rubbing his cheek to hers once more. His voice was hot in her ear. "You know me as I know you. Your mind and your body know me. Don't they?"

Asia turned her head desperately trying to find his lips with her own. He was toying with her and this made her anger flare. She pushed at his chest. He was solid and unmovable, but to move him away was not exactly what she wanted anyway. Frustrated with herself, she fisted the material of his shirt.

"This is crazy."

He laughed a low rumble from his chest that she could feel ease through her. Or, was it a growl? He raised his hand and grabbed a handful of her hair between his fingers. When he jerked her head back, she let out a small sound and it was immediately absorbed by his lips. His tongue was in her mouth and exploring. She welcomed him hungrily and was rewarded with a groan that made her thighs shiver. His other hand caught her around the waist and boldly rested on the swell of her ass, squeezed and pressed her into him. She felt his need for her. The size of him, the hardness, made her whimper.

"I need to taste all of you," he whispered, letting her up for air. His lips ran down the length of her throat. He kissed and he sucked, pausing at that special spot. His large hands weighed her firm, round breasts and massaged them expertly, making her solid nipples draw up into painful knots. His thumbs rubbing over them only teased the hard nubs through the delicate lace of her dress, making her eyes tear.

"Our minds and our bodies know," he repeated just as her nipples became exposed to the night air.

Then, they felt the moist heat of his mouth, sucking. His teeth caused her to cry out. The sound that sprung from deep inside her was met by a song of low howls in the night. They seemed to have come from the tree line. It was her imagination, she was certain. All of this had to be a dream. His hands and her body, the feel of them together was beyond explanation. She had no thoughts or words, only sounds. They were sounds heightened by the beating of her heart. But, her heart was not alone. It was like the music, a driving beat supported by others in a rhythm that made her hips begin to move. Her dress was already pulled up around her waist. His hands were already digging into her thighs.

"I want to taste more of you," he murmured across her torso.

Her legs were parted and the heat of his breath was upon her.

"What I want is to put my mouth here and feel you come under my kiss," he groaned.

Before she could fully comprehend his words, Asia's leg was over his shoulder and her clit was twisting in his hot mouth. She gripped his hair and hung on as she ground herself against him. She wanted this, needed it. How long had her body been waiting for this? The strength of his hands kept her from falling over. This was not simple lust or the act of passion. It was something else. It was something more animalistic, driven by the purity of instinct. It was the meat of sex. He was not just tasting her, but knowing her—wakening an unknown spirit within her. What this was swirled with emotion, nerve endings, music, heat and carnal power. It hit her with such an abandoned force that her entire body shook. Her hands went from his hair to her own, and she pulled to somehow try and ground the sensations that took her over. She could not hold back as he sucked and strummed her, seemingly from the inside. She exploded and unfamiliar images took form in her mind. The rush of running fast in between trees at the face of a mountain made her laugh. Him on top of her, skin to bare skin, fucking was like a memory revisited, making her come even harder.

"Crìsdean," she cried out, straining.

***

"I will have you completely my love," echoed in her head as she approached the mansion. Her pussy was still pulsating, still hungry for him. Everything seemed so much brighter now. Even the stone of the patio glowed in the light of the full moon.

"What happened?" Paul questioned, reaching out for her. He had looked everywhere and on a whim had come outside to find her.

What could Asia say? I've just let some guy go down on me, had the most mind blowing climax ever and now I want him to fuck me senseless. Take me home. He is coming to me.

Instead, Asia pulled away, laughing. It was a bit too frantic for Paul's comfort. She had her shoes in hand, her hair undone and wild. Her eyes were bright and wide, her makeup a bit smeared. Paul looked suspiciously out over the expanse of the grounds, toward the fountain in the distance. He thought he saw movement, but was not sure. He looked at her once more, catching her arm as she moved past him. It was obvious that she had had too much to drink.

"Let's get you home," he said, a bit disappointed.

"Please," she insisted as the voice of her lover continued to repeat itself in her mind.

***

Asia wanted to believe that it had been a dream. In the presence of her things, her world, she became ashamed of her wanton behavior. Walking room to room, she turned on every light in her small home. All the doors had been checked and locked. The security system was turned on. It was not fear that took her but a form of shock. She was shocked at herself and her reaction. His eyes, his touch and his divine smell had not faded. Her pussy still wept for him and his words still hummed in the air.

Finally naked and in her bathroom, she looked at herself in the mirror. She was glowing. Her reflection in the mirror was glorious. Her hair was loose; the massive dark curls were untamed and rebellious. Her lips were swollen and flushed, a blood filled pink. Her eyes were wild. She brought her forefinger up to her lips to touch their warmth. He had kissed her there. Asia slipped her finger between her lips and licked, remembering. He had kissed her everywhere. She let the wet digit touch the tip of her dark nipple and moaned. With the fingers of her other hand, she spread her pussy's juices.

This was her, the real her. It was the side of her she tried too hard to keep hidden. It was the part of her that always simmered just beneath the surface of her golden skin, always threatening escape. It was unexplainable urges and temperament. Now, it was set loose and she feared what this meant. Her eyes filled with tears and they ran down her cheeks silently. She worked her fingers against her clit furiously, feeling herself coming. Asia felt alive and hungry for more. She was hungry for the grey eyes, the strong hands and the feel of the wind in her hair.

"Crìsdean," she whispered huskily—a name so new but yet so old.

Crìsdean answered her call as she lay naked on her bed, waiting. When he came to her, Asia was lost between reality and a dream. It was only suitable that he would appear then, standing at the foot of her bed, his naked body glorious in the light of the filtered moon.

"Asia, you are perfect."

"Me," she said, confused. She had never seen a man so perfectly formed.

Asia got on her hands and knees and slowly crawled across the bed toward him. When she reached him, she rose on her knees before him and reached out with the palm of her hand. His body was the definition of strength. Each muscle was so carefully etched and defined. She just wanted to touch him, to feel his strength beneath her finger tips. The urge to feel the rise and fall, the grooves of each muscle as it shifted into the other was strong.

"You know my name," she whispered breathlessly.

When her touch met his skin, Asia felt the muscle of his chest tighten and heard his intake of air. The knowledge that she too had an effect on him only excited her more as she let her hands explore him.

"As you," he returned, closing his eyes for just an instant and enjoying the scent of her, "know mine my love."

"My love." She rolled the words off her lips as her eyes followed her hands.

Asia let her fingertips trace the divided boxes of his muscled torso. The fine sprinkle of hair that seemed to begin at his navel was inviting as it increased, reaching over the tightly stretched skin of his lower abdomen. She caught her breath at just the thought of what she was about to do. Never before had she been so bold with a man. But, he was simply so beautiful and massive, everywhere. She wrapped her fingers around his thickness. And, it was as impressively thick as it was long. It was like steel sheathed with a thin layer of silk, so warm to the touch. Asia smoothed the heated silk and let both of her thumbs run over the deliciously swollen head.

"Breathe," he told her. His voice was so low and thick.

Asia slowly retraced her path with her eyes, still letting her hands learn him. The drizzle of pre-cum encouraged her. She let her eyes trace the square line of his jaw, his chin and then his lips. She watched them form her name once more.

"Mine," he groaned out the word from deep in his chest.

With that she finally met those eyes. They were definitely glowing now, and dangerously so.

Ever since the first time she had laid her eyes on him, her mind had seemed to go foggy. It was almost as if it was in denial, somewhat of a protection. She remembered now, the feeling she had in the coffee shop several days ago and looking up, seeing him. There was the shadow across the street looming before bed, the brush of an arm as she walked along the crowded sidewalk. And that day, she had felt so restless and edgy. The wind was unusually high, a storm threatened. The scent of him was everywhere, so clean and masculine. It had been him standing there, his hair billowing in the wind and his body motionless as everything else seemed to speed up around him. The feeling that welled inside of her, causing her to lose her breath, was him. Realization flooded her.

"Mine," he repeated.

Her mind was suddenly clear. Her senses were alert. Such sudden clarity and alertness was almost painful.

"Yours," she whispered before attacking his lips with her own like a starved animal.

Suddenly, Asia was on her back. He had lifted her body and was now on top of her, protecting her from his weight as his kisses demanded absolute surrender. Asia met his every demand. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he rocked his hips, allowing her to feel the slide of him against her entrance. Each passing pressed his bulbous tip a little farther, readying her for his taking. Her readiness coated his crown and made it extremely hard for him to control himself. Every nerve within him was stirred and desperate to claim her after all this time. His wolf had been so patient within him. This teasing, this delicate dance designed to lessen the pain he knew his size would give her was torture. He drew back and pressed forward only to have her arch her body into him, forcing penetration.