Claimed: The Complete Short Romance Series

by Nichole Rose

  "Killian, oh my God."

  He shoves his free hand underneath me to play with my clit. "Going to tie you up when I take you here. Only way I can keep you still. You go wild as soon as I get in you, baby girl." He presses his thumb to my clit at the same time he thrusts his fingers into me. "Fuck. You're going to come on me, aren't you?"

  "Y-y-yes!" I sob, wracked by pleasure. He's everywhere, claiming every part of me all at once. It's intense, sending me racing toward a massive orgasm. It's almost terrifying how big it is…but I want it anyway.

  "Do it, baby girl," he growls, fucking me hard enough to rattle the bed frame. "Give me what belongs to me."

  He presses his thumb to my clit again, twisting his fingers inside me.

  I scream his name as pleasure rips me wide open. I thrash and wail my way through it, screaming myself raw as it roars through me, stealing the breath from my lungs. I hear him roaring my name, hear myself sobbing his back at him, but I'm frozen in place, caught in a fierce net of pleasure that goes on and on forever, detonating inside me again and again.

  He pumps his hips, filling me full of him. It splashes out, making a mess of both of us. Still, he keeps pumping his hips, moaning my name. I writhe through it, riding out the waves as his cock jerks inside me over and over.

  When the last drop splashes inside me, I fall limp beneath him, sucking in air in heaving gulps. My lungs and throat burn, but the rest of me feels fuzzy and far away, muted. He groans my name again and then slumps over me, resting his sweaty head against my back.

  "Liberty," he whispers. "God, baby girl."

  We stay just like that for several moments, trying to catch our breath. Once he does, he reluctantly pulls out of me, running a soothing hand down my hip. I hear him moving across the floor but can't find the energy to open my eyes to see where he's going.

  I float in that delicious void for several minutes, too blissed out to care about much of anything. I swear, he recovers a lot faster than I do. He has enough energy for the both of us most days. I get sleepy after I come, but he could go for hours.

  A few minutes later, I hear him walking back toward me. He flips me over onto my back and then scoops me up in his strong arms. He holds me close to his chest, cradling me like I'm precious cargo. I close my eyes and drift, confident that wherever he's taking me will be good.

  With him, I don't have to worry. He does it for me. I never really thought about how freeing that would feel, the lack of concern. But it is. For the first time in my life, there is no fear or anxiety, no stress. He helps me carry it.

  I hear water running a split second before he's easing me down into the tub. The hot water closes over me, making me hum in contentment.

  "Careful," he murmurs. He holds me steady before sliding into the massive tub with me and then pulling me back into his arms. His lips ghost across my forehead and then my cheeks. "You still awake, baby girl?"

  "Mmhmm," I hum.

  "Good. Open your eyes for me."

  I grumble a protest, which makes him chuckle.

  "Open them, Liberty."

  I huff and then do what he wants. It takes a minute for me to peel them open. And then another for me to actually focus them. When I do, I blink. There are candles and rose petals everywhere, turning the bathroom into an oasis.

  "Killian," I whisper.

  "You like it?"

  I nod, turning around on his lap until I can see his face. He's got it tilted down to me, my favorite smile on his lips.

  "When did you do this?"

  "Just now."

  I blink at him, which makes that smile widen.

  "You were out of it," he says, satisfaction glinting in his crystalline eyes. "Pretty sure you went to sleep on me." He cups my cheek, brushing strands of hair away from my face. "I got you something."

  "You don't have to get me anything. This is perfect." It's more than that. God, the way this man loves me is incredible. Every day, I feel cherished. Every day, I fall deeper into love with him. It's been two weeks, but it feels like I've belonged to him for a lifetime.

  "So you don't want this?" he says, reaching over to the side of the tub to grab something. He brings his hand up and turns it over, uncurling his fingers.

  I gasp when I see the ring sitting on his palm. It's a solitary round diamond on a platinum band. It's gorgeous and so much bigger than any diamond I've ever seen outside of a movie. I lift my hand to touch it and then hesitate, not sure if I'm supposed to do that or not. I'm pretty sure he's asking me to marry him. Maybe I should wait until he says it first.

  "Take it, baby girl," he says. "It's yours."

  "Are you–?"

  "Am I what?"

  "Is this–?"

  Amusement dances in his eyes and across his lips. He's laughing at me.

  "You aren't very funny," I mutter, glaring at him.

  He chuckles, reaching for my hand.

  "You love me," he reminds me, slipping the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly. "And you're marrying me."

  I briefly consider teasing him since he's teasing me, but quickly decide against it.

  "Okay," I say.

  He cocks a brow, suspicious. "That was easy."

  "I can say no if you want."

  He growls at me.

  "I want to marry you, Killian," I whisper, letting him off the hook. "I'm not saying no. I'm not even going to complain that you didn't even ask me. I'm just going to say yes. I love you. I love being with you. Yes, I'm marrying you."

  "Fuck." He tips my head back, pressing a hard kiss to my lips.

  I touch my tongue to his bottom lip, which makes him growl and deepen the kiss. My hands slide through his hair as I twist around on his lap until I'm straddling him. We kiss for a long, perfect moment before he pulls back to rest his forehead against mine.

  "You're really going to marry me?"

  "Yeah," I say, smiling. "I'm really going to marry you."

  "Fuck," he whispers again, his eyes falling closed. "I love you, Liberty. Didn't think it was possible to be this goddamn happy, but with you, I am, baby girl. Every day, I'm happier than I ever have been before."

  "I know," I whisper, running my hands through his hair again. "It's heaven, isn't it?"

  "No."

  "No?"

  He shakes his head. "Being inside you is heaven. This is something else altogether. It's…"

  "Home," I finish for him.

  "Yeah," he agrees, his smile blinding. "This is home."

  Epilogue

  Killian

  One Year Later

  "Is that him?" Sebastian asks, grinning at me as the nurse slips inside Liberty's room with my son in her arms.

  I take him from her, holding him carefully. They say he's big, but he's still tiny if you ask me. I could probably hold him in one hand, which I won't do because you have to hold babies carefully. They're fragile.

  As soon as he's in my arms, pride swells in my chest. He's sleeping, his little lips pursed. He's as perfect as his mom. And she gets more perfect every single day. The last year of my life has been better than perfect. Every day, I love her more. She's the sun in my world…and our little boy is the moon. Both vital, both beautiful.

  She's resting peacefully in the hospital bed beside me. She hasn't gotten much of that the last few weeks. She says it's impossible to get comfortable with a baby digging his toes into your ribs. I'm taking her word for it. But she never complained. Not once through her pregnancy did she complain.

  She's the strongest person I know.

  "He's so little," Kennedy whispers, reaching out to touch his hand.

  "He looks like you," Caroline says, smiling.

  "He's much cuter than Killian," Sebastian says, fucking with me. I see the look in his dark eyes though. See the way they move from me to his wife, lingering on her growing belly. He can't wait for his own baby to get here. She's not far behind. Their little girl is due any day now.

  "What's his name?" Rowan asks, cuddling up against Sebastian's ches
t with her hand on her belly.

  "Spencer."

  "Aww," Kennedy and Caroline say at the same time.

  "After her mom?" Rowan asks.

  I nod. Nothing else fit right. Spencer is perfect though, a little piece of Liberty's mom that she can pass on to our children. She still doesn't talk much about her past, but it doesn't hurt her as much now as it used to. She talks about her parents sometimes, about the happy times they shared and how much they loved each other and loved her. I think she knows that her dad never stopped loving her. He just lost his way.

  It helps her to see the men and women we serve, to hear their stories. She spends most of her time working out of my office now. Alessi doesn't seem to mind. He thinks it's good for her. Hell, I do too. She's blossomed in the last year, becoming a fierce advocate for veterans. They love her, which is a never-ending source of irritation for me. I love that my wife has people in her corner, but I'm still a jealous, possessive motherfucker. I think, if anything were to happen to me, she'd have a whole army at her back, ready to help take care of her for me.

  That's the only reason I let the men in our care close to my wife. She deserves the peace that comes with knowing she isn't alone in this world. And she isn't alone in this world. With me at her side, she will never be alone again.

  I've loved seeing her grow over the last year. She knows her worth now, knows how important she is and how much she is loved. That confidence never really leaves her eyes now. She's happy. Happier than I've ever seen her. And I love every minute of it.

  "You did good, brother," Sebastian murmurs to me while the girls all coo over Spencer.

  "I did, didn't I?" I say, smiling down at the baby in my arms. Hell, I did better than good. I hit the fucking lottery when I found Liberty. My wife is a goddess, and my son is perfect.

  When I was in the desert and tried to envision a future for myself, I never could do it. I'm not sure if that's because I didn't know Liberty was out there waiting for me to find her, or if it's because I couldn't even comprehend the kind of happiness I've found with her. But if I had been able to imagine it, it would have looked like this.

  My son in my arms, my siblings around me, and my wife resting peacefully at my side.

  This is what we fought for. This is what so many died for. This is the dream.

  And it is so fucking beautiful.

  Bonus Scene

  Killian

  Five Years Later

  "Where's my wife?" I ask Kathy, stomping into the lobby. Liberty left our office almost an hour ago to get coffee from the breakroom and still hasn't returned.

  Kathy looks up from whatever she's entering into the computer. As soon as she sees me, her expression falls into a stoic mask. She's not fooling me though. I see the little glint of mischief in her eyes. "Mase caught her in the hall."

  "What the fuck?"

  Kathy's lips twitch before she can control herself.

  I swear to Christ, my wife is too fucking gorgeous and too sweet for her own good. The men here love her, which is a never-ending source of amusement for my receptionist. It's also a never-ending source of irritation to me. It's been five years since I made Liberty my world. We have two boys. I'm inside my wife at every available opportunity. And I'm still a possessive, jealous motherfucker when it comes to her. I hate sharing her with anyone.

  Everyone here knows it. Doesn't stop them from flocking to my wife like horny sailors. I think they do it just to piss me off. Liberty has softened some of my edges over the years, but I still have a few sharp points. After a lifetime in the military, taking charge and barking orders is what I know. It's who I am. The people here take it in stride. Hell, they're used to being ordered around. But they still find ways to fuck with me as payback…specifically by flirting with my wife.

  She thinks I'm overprotective and they're just being friendly. I love that she's too innocent to realize any one of them would jump at the chance to claim her. But I know how appealing a woman like Liberty is to men like these. She's everything that's good in this world, everything we fought so fucking hard to protect—soft and sweet and home. She had my heart in her hands in a matter of days.

  Damn right I'm overprotective. I know exactly what I have with her. She's the best thing that ever happened to me. She's still the light in my world, the peace. Our kids are my joy. Nothing will ever jeopardize that so long as I have a say. I'll destroy anyone who tries. Including Masen Starks.

  "Where?" I growl.

  "His office," Kathy says.

  I turn on my heel and march out of the lobby.

  Kathy laughs behind me, but I ignore her. She wouldn't think this shit was so funny if it was her wife they were all over all the damn time. But Kathy's stronger than I am. She keeps her wife away from this place. I can't make it through a day without mine. When she isn't here, I don't get shit done because I'm busy thinking about her. I'm a grumpy son of a bitch the one day a week Liberty works out of Dominic Alessi's office. Everyone avoids me.

  She thinks I'm ridiculous, but I know she misses me and our boys the same way. She can't wait to get back to us. Our boys, Spencer and Toby, worship the ground she walks on. They think their mama is magic. In their eyes, she can do no wrong. They're just like me in that respect. She's perfect, and she gets more so every day.

  She worried so much about if she would be a good mom. She's so much more than that though. She was made to be a mother. She's got the biggest heart. For so long, she kept it locked up tight, afraid to let anyone too close. It's not like that for her anymore. She has blossomed into the strongest, most loving woman I've ever met.

  I've spent the last five years making sure she knows, every single day, how loved she is and how much better my life is because of her. My boys help me spoil her. My sisters and sisters-in-law adore her. My brother and brothers-in-law do too. I rest easy knowing she has family now…that they'll take care of my girl and our boys if anything ever happens to me. She'll never be alone in the world or feel unwanted again. For the rest of her life, she'll know that she's loved and that she has a home.

  "I could tell him," I hear her say as I approach Mase's office. "But I think you should be the one to do it, Mase. He'll take it better coming from you."

  Take what better? What the hell is he up to?

  "You're killing me here," he groans. "He already hates me."

  "He doesn't hate you."

  "Yeah, he does. You're just blind to it, sweetheart."

  Nope. I'm done. Don't care what they're talking about. No one calls my wife anything but her name, not if they want to keep breathing.

  "It'll be fine," Liberty says. "Talk to him."

  I step inside the office to find Liberty standing just inside the doorway, a coffee cup in hand. Mase is at his desk. As soon as he notices me standing behind my wife, he flinches.

  Yeah, fucker. I'm on to you.

  "Starks," I growl.

  "Sir."

  Masen Starks has those dark good looks women go crazy over, unruly hair, icy blue eyes. He's big and burly, early thirties. He hasn't been with us long. He started as one of the vets we serve and then just never left. He needed us as badly as we needed him. He has no family, no home. He was a hell of a sniper. And he's damn handy with a toolbelt. He can fix anything you put in front of him. Around here, things are always breaking. Keeping him around made sense at the time.

  Maybe not so much if he doesn't stay away from my wife.

  "Hey," Liberty's eyes light up as soon as she sees me. It settles a little of the jealousy roiling through me. I trust my wife implicitly. I know how much she loves me, know she'd never do anything to make me question that. Whatever she and Mase were talking about, it's innocent. I don't doubt that.

  Still don't fucking like it though.

  "You get lost, baby girl?" I ask her.

  "No. I was just talking to Mase." She smiles at me, reaching for my hand.

  I tug her closer to me, wanting her where I can touch her. As soon as her skin meets mine, I settle.
The sense of peace I feel when she's close is as addictive now as ever. I brush my lips across her temple, breathing her in. Don't give a fuck what people around here think about the way I am with my wife. I won't hide how I feel about her for anyone. If I want to kiss her, I'll kiss her. After five years, they should be used to it by now anyway.

  "I was about to head back to the office," she says.

  "I'll walk with you."

  "Okay." She glances over her shoulder at Mase. "Think about it."

  "Yes, ma'am," Mase says, avoiding my gaze.

  "Starks."

  "Sir."

  "Her name is Liberty or Mrs. Thorne," I remind him. "I suggest you use it from now on or you and I are going to have problems."

  "Yes, sir."

  Satisfied, I pull Liberty out into the hallway with me, turning toward our office. She's bristling like a pissed off little kitten. I already know she's going to read me the riot act. I can read her like a book. But she waits until we're out of earshot.

  "You have to stop terrorizing the staff, Killian," she says. "He was just being friendly. He didn't mean anything by it."

  I grunt instead of responding. We both know I'm never going to change when it comes to her. She's mine. If someone forgets it, I'll do what needs to be done.

  "He thinks you hate him."

  "Wouldn't have a problem with him if he'd stay the fuck away from you and stop calling you cute fucking names."

  "You're impossible."

  "I'm yours," I correct her. "You're wearing my ring on your finger. That means I'm the only one who gets to call you anything but your name, baby girl. He knows the rules."

  She opens her mouth and then closes it and laughs through a groan.

  "Impossible," she says, but she doesn't sound mad anymore. She can't ever stay mad at me for long, thank fucking God. I'm a miserable son of a bitch when she's upset with me. It doesn't happen often. I'm a quick study.

  "What's he afraid to tell me?" I ask, holding open the door to our office for her.

  As soon as we're both through it, I set her cup on a shelf and she's in my arms. I take a deep breath and exhale, holding her close. The last of my irritation dissolves like so much dust, unable to stand beneath the power of her touch. Swear to Christ, the world could go to hell around us, and so long as her soft body was pressed tight to mine, I'd be just fine.