His to Claim

by Sierra Cartwright

  Her steps were silent, but her breaths weren’t. He was being a jerk. There was no need to order her around like that. But at that moment, it was better than revealing that he’d experienced a flash of emotion that momentarily left him vulnerable.

  He faced her again when she returned to the center of the room. This time, he used a gentler tone. “And now my cufflinks, if you will?”

  “Of course, Mason.” With shaky hands, she did as he said. “That’s an interesting symbol on them. An owl?”

  “Yes.”

  “From Greek mythology? Athena’s owl.”

  “You’re well studied.” Another thing he appreciated about her.

  “I was in a sorority.”

  “That explains it.”

  She closed her hand around the pieces of metal.

  “Put them on the table,” he instructed.

  “Yes, Sir.” Even though her words were a whisper, they reverberated in the silence.

  He’d heard those words numerous times, but until now, they’d never meant anything to him. She genuinely wished to please him.

  He studied her as she crossed to the table, watching her legs flex, her hips sway. Mason scened often enough. But somewhere along the line, he’d allowed his experiences to leave him jaded. It had been a long time since he’d savored every moment of being with a submissive.

  Her steps silent, she returned to him.

  “Now roll back my shirtsleeves.”

  She looked up at him and licked her lower lip. It would be less intimate and more expedient for him to do it himself, but he wanted her touch. She turned back the first cuff and smoothed it before continuing. “You know why we’re doing this, sub?”

  “So you’re more comfortable?” She didn’t look up from her task.

  “No.”

  “Sir?” She finished rolling the first sleeve into place before meeting his gaze.

  “So that I don’t get wet from your juices while I inspect you. Your breasts, your pussy. You’re going to like that, aren’t you?”

  She dug her nails into him.

  “You might want to let go, little one.” He grinned.

  “Oh.” Instantly she released him. “I’m sorry.”

  He wasn’t. He enjoyed unnerving her. “Do you need to be reminded what my command was?”

  “Sir! No. I’m sorry.”

  “No apology needed. I don’t mind spanking you for your lapses.”

  Her hand hovered over his arm.

  “That’s not on a limits list?”

  “Spanking?” She studied him with a slight smile. “Not at all.”

  The intimacy of it, he guessed. Really, there was nothing much more personal than a hand on bare skin. She wouldn’t be alone or abandoned that way. “If you could only choose one method of impact play, what would it be?”

  “Flogging.”

  Which was a good thing since he was now the proud owner of two new ones.

  Her breaths turned shallow. “There’s nothing better.”

  “When we were shopping, we never discussed a single tail?”

  She hadn’t managed to roll back his second cuff. “I’ve never experienced that. It’s scary, but I might be willing.”

  It was something he only did in a long-term relationship or with a sub he knew was experienced, so why had he even asked the question? “Of course. How about a crop?”

  At his rapid change of conversation, she blinked. “Yes.”

  “You had that same kind of enthusiasm when you talked about the brandy milk punch.”

  “They called it the Fister, Sir.”

  He angled his head to one side. “Was that a hint? Suggestion?”

  Twin scarlet flames painted her cheeks. “I’m not sure I’m that brave. I was, ah…talking about the drink.”

  Were you? Were you indeed? “Tawse?”

  “I’ve always wanted to try that. I’m not really into pain all that much, but I like impact play.”

  “When you have fantasies, are they about impact play?”

  “Almost always. Yes.”

  “I’m interested in discovering your thresholds. Since you’ve yet to roll up my right shirtsleeve, perhaps we should begin with eight spanks?”

  Her hands fell to her sides. “You’re distracting, Sir.”

  He was absolutely delighted with her, in her. “Are you blaming me for your transgressions, sub?”

  Hannah shook her head. “Of course not. No, Sir.” Right away, she reached for his arm to roll up the sleeve.

  Because he liked her touch, he let her finish her task. “Stand up straight.” Once she had, he captured her chin. “Where shall I start my very thorough investigation of all your secrets?”

  She gasped. This time, he knew her better. She was nervous, but not alarmed. He used the tip of his middle finger to trace one of her eyebrows. Then, he stroked across a cheekbone before brushing hair back from her face.

  Hannah scarcely breathed.

  With his thumbnail, he feathered a touch across her lips. In silent, sensual invitation, she parted them slightly. “That’s right. Wider.”

  Trembling, she opened her mouth for him. Gently, he inserted a finger inside her warmth, and she waited for his command before cradling him with her tongue and sucking. “Very attentive.”

  Mason pulled out his finger and outlined her ear before tugging gently on the lobe. With a tiny moan, she turned into him. She might love impact play, but she responded beautifully to any kind of touch. Being this gentle with a sub was a new experience for him, and he was surprised by how much he enjoyed it.

  He grabbed a handful of her sarong. “I’m going to take it off you.” It hadn’t provided her with any modesty, but undressing her was symbolic.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  His motions deft, he worked the knot loose. Next, he tugged the gauzy material from her, leaving her in front of him wearing just the white bikini. “You are beautiful, Hannah.”

  “When you say it—” She stopped herself. “Thank you.”

  Mason carried the sarong to the table and laid it alongside his cufflinks. Then he grabbed a chair from the corner and placed it about four feet in front of her. “Wondering what I’m up to?” He took his seat.

  Her gaze was riveted on him.

  “Spread your legs, please.”

  Slowly, she did as he asked.

  “Is your pussy wet for me, Hannah?”

  “Sir—”

  “Just answer the question. Are you wet for me?”

  “Yes.” There was no apology in her whisper, just a beautiful confession.

  “You have no idea how happy that makes me. Now put two fingers inside yourself—don’t play with yourself, because you certainly do not have permission to do that—then hold up your hand for inspection.”

  She closed her eyes.

  “No. No hiding from me. I want to see your expressions. So much so that I might add blindfolds to my limits list and never permit you the anonymity.”

  Either because she wanted to be submissive or because it was another way to hide, she lowered her gaze as she dipped her fingers into her pussy.

  Maybe later, he’d have her masturbate for him. If he could tolerate watching without touching. “That’s it. Now take them out and come here.” He spread his legs, and she closed the distance between them to stand between his thighs. “Hold your hand up to the light.” Moisture glittered on her fingers. “Do you see that? Proof of how much your body wants me?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Now put them in my mouth.”

  Her breath whooshed out in a frantic burst. But damn, she was so perfect, never hesitating.

  It had been a long time since he’d had an experience with a woman that was remotely like this. He visited the Quarter and played with willing women in the public areas. He flogged them, perhaps used a paddle or a single tail, and he was sure they were satisfied with the experience. But with her, perhaps because of her honesty or the vulnerabilities she’d admitted to, he was tak
ing his time, exploring the emotional angles as well as the physical ones.

  He closed his mouth and sucked, softly at first, then harder, communicating how this evening—and the rest of the weekend—was going to go.

  “Mason…” She moaned and leaned into him.

  Her taste was tangy—passion and submission—nectar of the gods. All of it was for him, because of him. The realization was a drug he couldn’t get enough of.

  Slowly, he released her. “I will savor your juices every day, little sub.” He placed his hands on her hips—so fucking dangerous to his restraint—and eased her back a couple of steps. “Now return to where you were standing and remove your top.” If he took the damn stringy thing off her, he might fuck her where she stood. And there was a long way to go before either of them were ready for that.

  For a few seconds, she fumbled with the clasp behind her. Giving up, she moved on to the knot at her nape. With any other sub, he’d offer to help. But the way she wiggled and contorted her body appealed to his baser nature.

  The material fell, partially covering one of her nipples but leaving the other exposed. The peaks were thick and hard against the dusky pink halo of her areolas. “I could look at you all night and never grow tired.”

  She turned the bikini top so that the clasp was in the front, then parted it and allowed the top to fall to the floor.

  “I’m looking forward to inspecting every inch of you. Please put your hands behind your neck.”

  Her chest heaving, she complied with his command.

  “Perfect.” He stood and circled her, taking her in from every angle, appreciating her curves.

  Since she went rigid, perhaps in anticipation of his touch, he returned to his chair. She expelled a small breath, with what sounded like frustration. Good. “Now remove your bikini bottom.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she whispered, the words so soft they hovered on the air.

  There was nothing seductive in her motions. She was a woman trying to please her man, and quickly. He liked that.

  Her pubic area was smooth, no doubt waxed. “Brazilian?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Perhaps you should show me. I’ll be certain your technician did a good job.”

  “You…” She blinked at him.

  “Come here, then face away from me. Bend over, spread your legs as wide as you can, then hold your ass cheeks apart.”

  Her cheeks flushed. Still, she walked to him, her eyes remaining locked on him.

  “Another step closer, Hannah.” It took all his resolve not to reach for her full, beautiful breasts.

  Without prompting, she turned away from him, then bent over. She reached back to hold her buttocks apart.

  “Wider.”

  She made a little sound of protest but complied.

  “You are so beautiful when you’re spread for me.” He stood and feathered three fingers over her pubic area. “So smooth.” He stroked between her labia, and she rose up. “Keep your feet flat on the floor, sub. We’ll do this at my pace.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she mumbled.

  Mason pressed his thumb against her clit.

  “Argh!”

  He grinned. “Are you horny?”

  “Oh, Sir!”

  “What am I doing, Hannah?”

  “Playing with me, Sir?”

  “Inspecting,” he corrected. “This is about me, not you. I’m learning. You’re submitting. So you’re not going to come, are you?” As he spoke, he continued to slide his fingers between her slick pussy lips.

  Her legs trembled.

  “I asked you a question.”

  “No, Sir.”

  “You seem to like the way I inspect you.”

  Rather than saying anything, she groaned.

  “Keep your hands in place. I like the sight of your cunt and ass. In fact, spread even farther, please.”

  “Oh, Sir. I’m not sure that’s possible.” Her skin took on a slight glow from her efforts and the struggle to stay in position.

  “I’m quite sure you’ll manage.” To ensure she did, he helped her along, placing his hands on top of hers and forcing her buttocks apart. “Now all you need to do is stay in this position.”

  She was beautifully exposed to him. “I’m going to see for myself how wet you are.”

  “Please, yes.”

  Keeping his thumb on her clit, he entered her with one finger, then a second. Her pussy convulsed around him as she struggled to hold off a climax. So damn hot. He sought her G-spot, then pressed against it.

  “Oh, God!” She dropped her hands to her knees.

  “My instructions were explicit, Hannah. You weren’t given permission to break your pose.”

  “But—”

  “This inspection is not over.” Relentlessly, he edged her. Her responses were so honest. This was Dom and sub the way it was meant to be, no artifice. “Show me your ass, Hannah.”

  She reached back, only to drop her hands again when he pushed harder on her clit.

  “Is there a reason you’re being disobedient?”

  “I…” Her whole body shook with the effort to control her reactions.

  When she managed to obey, he pulled away from her. She let out a deep, shuddering breath. Whether it was from frustration or relief, he wasn’t sure.

  He dampened his fingers inside her pussy, then pressed a finger to her anal whorl. “Should I do this, little one?”

  In invitation, she swayed.

  The throb in his dick became an ache. He wanted to stake his claim on her. “Such a good sub. That’s it. Keep your cheeks wide.” He pushed past the tightest muscles.

  She sighed.

  “You like this.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Will you like it as much when I shove my cock up here and take you hard?”

  Her grip faltered as he pulled out a little before surging in again.

  He finger-fucked her ass several times before withdrawing. “How many times a day should I inspect you, Hannah?”

  “As many as you’d like, Sir.”

  A weekend might not be enough. “You may straighten up.” His voice was strangled. Did she have any idea how much he desired her?

  He helped her up and steadied her while she faced him.

  “How does your ass feel?”

  “Tingly.”

  “I’m going to like keeping it full. Something we’ll both enjoy. Spread your legs, please. I won’t have you trying to relieve your horniness.”

  Momentarily she closed her eyes, but she nodded.

  Mason crossed back to the side of the room to wash his hands and to refocus. He knew of his reputation at the club, as a man who never wanted the same woman twice, always on the prowl for a new experience. The truth was, he enjoyed BDSM scenes, no matter who his partner was. He took his time, learned her nuances, but kept himself at a distance. With Hannah, that was impossible.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he wanted to fuck a woman senseless. And now, hunger for her consumed him.

  Her breaths were soft on the air separating them, and he concentrated on the sound, and the scent of her—vanilla and surrender.

  How would she feel in his arms, in his bed?

  In frustration, he wadded the paper towel he’d been using and tossed it into the trash can.

  Reminding himself to block out everything but the moment, he returned to her. “Now for your breasts.”

  He cupped them, and they spilled over his palms. “You know I’m going to fuck them, right?”

  She moaned, then again louder when he rubbed her nipples.

  “Are they sensitive, Hannah?”

  “A little. But I like it hard.”

  “Do you?”

  Her lips were parted, and her eyes were pleading.

  They were two individuals who needed something only the other could provide. That created understanding. And risk. What happened when their time together ended?

  Using his thumbs, he traced her areolas, not touching her nipples.
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  “Mason…”

  “Tell me what you want.”

  “Squeeze. Pinch.”

  He gave them the lightest of touches. “Like this?”

  “No.”

  “This, perhaps?” He squeezed until her eyelids drifted shut. She did like it hard. His inner beast liked that. “Should I bring you to your knees?” Between his thumbs and forefingers, he compressed her delicate flesh.

  She grabbed his biceps.

  “Use your slow word when it’s too much.” He exerted even more pressure, and the distinct scent of her reached his nose.

  Her eyes closed as she tipped back her head.

  “Look at me,” he reminded her.

  Hannah, wonderful in so many ways, locked her gaze on him.

  “That’s it.” He tugged her nipples up and added a slight twist.

  “My God. I want to come.”

  “Can you? From the nipple stimulation alone?”

  “Yes…” Her eyes silently pleaded with him.

  “Hannah, Hannah.” At that moment, he’d do anything for her. “Tell me what you need.”

  “I’m so close, Sir. Almost…”

  Understanding, he twisted a little more.

  She went limp, which tugged more forcefully on her nipples. Screaming out her pleasure, she let go of him. Mason moved his hand to catch her, supporting her weight, then carrying her back to the chair to pull her against his chest. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he stroked back her hair.

  “That was hot,” he murmured.

  “I—I—” She flattened her palm on his chest and pushed away from him. “Wow. I haven’t come that hard in years.”

  “We may need to get you a pair of nipple clamps so I can eat you out while you climax.”

  She searched his gaze.

  “You’re wondering if I’m serious. I am.” Winding a lock of her hair around his hand, he answered her unasked question. “I most certainly am.”

  “I’m going to fantasize about that. You know that, Sir?”

  Hopefully for months, even after their weekend ended. That idea filled him with a stunning amount of pride. “So now that you’ve had an orgasm, it’s time to get on with your first spanking. Eight, was it?”

  “Yes, Sir. Eight.”

  The climax seemed to have liberated her, settled her into their roles. She sat a little straighter, angled her chin with more confidence. Every moment with her was getting better. “What shall we begin the weekend with?”