Page 27 of Claimed At First Sight

Something in the way he says my name sends another flare of heat through me.

This is getting dangerously out of hand. I need to get out of here before this goes any further.

“I should g—”

He tugs me closer, and his mouth closes over mine before I can finish.

Every thought disappears.

My lips respond before my mind has a chance to catch up. He tastes faintly of coffee, and when my mouth parts beneath his, Maximo groans against my lips.

The sound goes straight through me. I press my thighs together to stem the ache building there, acutely aware of how damp my panties have become since he started sucking my finger.

He cradles my face, tilting my head as he deepens the kiss.

I should stop this.

Instead, my hands find the back of his neck. His hair is thick and soft, and I hold on as his tongue strokes over mine.

A shiver runs through me. Nothing has ever felt like this.

His teeth catch lightly at my lower lip, and another jolt of pleasure shoots through me. I lean closer without thinking, until there’s barely any space left between us.

The Irish contract. My father. Every sensible thought I had five minutes ago. None of it matters right now.

There’s only Maximo.

His mouth. His hands. And the terrifying realization that I don’t want him to stop.

My fingers leave his hair and fist his shirt as he draws me closer until I’m half in his lap. I’m kissing him back now with none of the hesitation I should have.

“That’s it, Mialina,” he murmurs against my lips.

The approval in his voice sends another wave of pleasure through me. His forehead rests on mine for a moment, both of us panting.

“Stop fighting it.” His thumb brushes over my lower lip. “Stop fighting the fact that you’re mine.”

Mine.

Just like that, my head clears.

What the hell am I doing?

My eyes widen. I’m practically sitting in Maximo Marco’s lap, kissing him.

And the worst part? I was enjoying every second of it.

“No.”

The word comes out breathless. I pull back, my heart still hammering.

I made out with the man who wants to turn me into a line item on a ledger. The man who thinks my refusal is merely something he has to overcome.

And I wanted him.

My face burns as I scramble to my feet so quickly I almost trip over the edge of the bench.

“Mia—”