Claim

by Sierra Cartwright

  “Upstairs.”

  “You know I love your rear end and watching you move.”

  “Yes?”

  “Crawl.”

  Chapter Five

  Sexual energy, raw, hot and needy pulsed through Mackenzie.

  She’d been right to avoid him all week.

  Feminine instinct had recognized how dangerous he was to her¸ on all levels. The woman in her appreciated his easy manners. The businessperson in her applauded his ambition and drive. All it took was being alone with him to have the sub in her respond completely to his confident, dominant nature.

  He’d said he was interested in something with no expectations, and she’d said that was what she wanted, too. But was it? An occasional hook-up, maybe a date with him?

  She wasn’t a fool. She knew being seen with Kennedy would demolish her privacy. He was friends with Julien Bonds, for God’s sake. The interaction with his sister was only a taste of what she could expect. Her parents would want the scoop—her step-siblings, half-sisters, and even her half-brother would be curious and so would her friends and coworkers.

  But in this moment, the only thing that mattered was the hunger he created in her. That was new, unexpected, thrilling. She’d had plenty of sex, even with her husband, who’d she’d been in love with. In college, she’d had a love affair so intense that she’d sworn her heart would shatter when they broke up. Some of the most exciting sex had been with Doms. But none of it had prepared her for him. This was primal.

  Her mouth felt bruised from his kiss. He still had her wrists clamped above her head.

  Masturbating in the car had turned her on. His kiss fanned the heat.

  And now…? He wanted her to crawl, something else she’d never done. Last week at The Hub, he’d challenged her to try the square rather than the St. Andrew’s cross. She’d had a dozen doubts about that, just like she did this.

  That night, she’d known she’d be filled with restless regret if she didn’t experience everything he had to offer. She’d challenged him to bring it. She was realizing that she’d had no idea what he had planned for her.

  She kicked off her shoes. The way he drew his eyebrows together as he watched made her glad she’d complied. “I like the way you show your approval,” she said, her voice so rough she hardly recognized it.

  “You keep giving me reasons.”

  He released her wrists and she removed her pantyhose. “I don’t want to shred them when I go up the stairs.”

  Kennedy nodded. “But you won’t be needing them in the future. I’ll buy you stockings,” he said. “Thigh highs, or, if you want some for work that go all the way to the waist, we’ll find some that leave your pussy accessible.”

  Mackenzie wasn’t sure if he intentionally said things to shock her, and it didn’t matter. Intentional or not, his words always hit her right in the libido and made it difficult to think straight.

  For now, under the blaze of his perusal, she hurried to comply with his orders. She tossed the hose on top of her shoes.

  “Lose the thong, as well.”

  “You’re going to get a peep show,” she said, trying for nonchalance to cover her sudden embarrassment as she bared her bottom to him.

  “That was my intention.”

  She let her panties dangle from her index finger for a moment, stalling.

  “Now get going or I’ll have you do it nude.”

  His tone allowed no compromise, and she knew he meant it. She was already learning that he wouldn’t let her put off the inevitable.

  Wondering how the hell to do this with anything resembling grace, she dropped her underwear and lowered herself to the stairs.

  “Go.”

  A step at a time, she went.

  Since she didn’t hear his footsteps, she knew he was down there, watching.

  “Damn,” he said.

  She felt the same way. This was more incredible than she could have imagined.

  Then he whistled, long and low. The knowledge she was turning him on thrilled her.

  At the top, she hesitated.

  “You can walk,” he told her as he started up the stairs, carrying the brown paper bag.

  She stood then moved to the side to wait for him.

  “Your dress has worked its way down.”

  “That was remiss.” Using both hands, she pulled the hem back to her waist.

  “Lead the way, Zee.”

  “I’m beginning to think you’re a pervert, Master Aldrich.”

  “Only beginning? I must be losing my touch.”

  Her pulse threaded in a few extra beats when she heard him behind her. At the club, she’d turned herself over to the natural rhythm of the scene. If he’d taken her up against the wall in the hallway, at least they’d have had it out of the way. “My bedroom,” she said, praying she’d taken the time to make the bed before she’d left for work. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

  “Good.”

  She flipped on the light, but then lowered the switch to dim the brightness a bit. Thankfully she’d made the bed, but the seldom-used exercise bike was serving as a hanger for a couple of sweaters. As usual, she’d left the blinds open. “Let me close them.” As she moved across the room, she resisted the impulse to pull down the hem of her dress. “I wouldn’t want the sight of you to terrify Mrs. Hoosier.”

  “Mrs. Hoosier?”

  “The neighbor’s German Shepherd.”

  “The dog’s name is Mrs. Hoosier?” he clarified.

  She shrugged. “Mr. Greene named him.”

  “But you’re concerned that Mrs. Hoosier will be frightened?”

  “Mr. Greene is blind,” she said. “So, if the dog gets upset, which she might because she doesn’t know you, she’ll start barking. In that case, he might call the police. Or telephone me. Or send Mrs. Hoosier over.” She closed the blinds and turned back to face him. “We have a hole in the gate between us. Sometimes Mrs. Hoosier comes to visit, so I have a doggie door for her.”

  “Jesus Christ, are you saying we could have a German Shepherd in the bed with us?”

  “No. I keep the dog door closed unless I’m watching her.”

  “While your blind neighbor…”

  “Has a lady friend over. Mrs. Hoosier doesn’t like Mrs. Braselton.”

  “The lady friend,” he surmised.

  “Exactly.”

  “I’m rambling.”

  He’d placed a palm on the doorjamb. “You are. I like it. Says you’re nervous. Says you care about the neighbor and his dog. And you’ve let me into your private space.”

  She picked up a pillow. As she’d guessed, as she’d been afraid of, he saw too much.

  “Put it down.” He entered the room. “You don’t need anything between us.”

  She dropped it.

  “Now come here.”

  He spoke in the quiet, forceful tone that she recognized. Alternately soothing and commanding, it did strange things to her mind, put her in a different mental space.

  “Zee.”

  She went and stood in front of him.

  “Have you ever had a relationship that BDSM played a big part in?”

  “No. I told you. I’m not really into it outside the club.”

  “It wasn’t part of the relationship with your husband?”

  Before she could stop herself, she laughed. “No. His idea of kink was woman on top.”

  “Were you okay with that?”

  “I was in love. I was ready to settle down, start a business, buy a house. I thought maybe my interest in BDSM was a passing thing. Since my divorce… Well, you know that story. I don’t date, so I haven’t had another relationship. In college, a couple of boyfriends and I dabbled—with ties, a quick spank, that kind of thing.”

  “It’s part of who I am.”

  “Yeah. I know.” Before she could change her mind and keep her mouth shut, she added, “Chantelle told the whole world.”

  “Chantelle knew nothing about me.”

  The anger a
nd bitterness that iced his words took her aback. “I thought you were engaged.”

  “It was her publicity stunt. A successful one, I might add. There was no trip overseas, no proposal, no ring. In fact, we only went on a handful of dates.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “Of course you should. You have a right to know anything you want. I want no secrets between us. I’ve told you that. That goes for me, as well. Unfortunately, you’ll find I’m far more boring than anyone thinks.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “But I’m definitely kinky as fuck. Get on your knees.”

  The sudden change of conversation jolted her, and she swallowed.

  “Now, Zee.” He put his free hand on her shoulder to back up his command.

  His words, combined with his action, tripped her into a submissive mindset, and she knelt.

  He threaded his fingers into her hair and pulled back her head so that their gazes met. “Everything you have to offer, I want. Don’t hide. Don’t run.”

  Her mouth went dry.

  “Just for tonight,” he added.

  “I…” She’d spent two years keeping others out.

  “Will you?”

  He wasn’t asking about forever, only a few hours, she told herself. But the evening she’d spent with him at The Hub had affected her every day since. “It’s not as simple as that,” she admitted. “At least it’s not for me. You’re not an easy man to forget, Kennedy.”

  His grin took years off his age, eased the perpetual frown that was buried between his eyebrows.

  “I should warn you, sub, you’re feeding my ego.”

  “Then I take back what I said.” She saw him then. Mackenzie didn’t know a lot about his background, but she’d read about his father’s health struggles, and she’d seen press releases indicating Kennedy’s promotion within the company. Any man who commanded his family’s empire at such a young age had obviously dealt with a tremendous amount of pressure.

  From the outside, his life appeared perfect—women, vacations, luxuries. But she realized that was only the surface, something fed by the press to sell magazines and advertising.

  The Kennedy she was getting to know was giving and thoughtful, human in his strengths and frailties. Still, lucky and unlucky for her, it was all wrapped in a focused, determined, demanding package.

  With his hand, he still cradled her head, holding her captive.

  “For tonight,” he repeated.

  She nodded. “For tonight.”

  “Remove my belt.”

  Her fingers seemed suddenly awkward as she reached for the buckle. Since she didn’t have a lot of toys, she had an idea of what this meant.

  “Good. Now pull it out of the loops and offer it to me.”

  Mackenzie had never felt more like a sub than she did at this moment. Unsure of what he expected, she went with her instinct.

  After removing the belt, she folded it in half and laid it across her palms, raising her hands toward him.

  “Exactly right,” he said, as if he’d read her uncertainty.

  With the way he watched her every reaction, maybe he had.

  He accepted the belt then placed it and the paper bag on a nightstand. “Open the box and take out a few.”

  In the absence of another instruction, she crawled, rather than walked.

  As he pulled back the comforter, she opened the box and pulled out some condoms, separating the packages. This was another first for her.

  “Lean over the bed.”

  Assailed by nerves, aware of him standing over her, she did as he said.

  “Stretch out your arms, toward the far side of the bed.”

  She took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself. Being with him wasn’t familiar, but surrendering to a BDSM-laced moment was.

  “Toes turned in. Lift up your ass,” he said.

  She ground the balls of her feet against the hardwood floor so she could get the needed leverage.

  “What do you want?” he asked her.

  “To be able to answer that question the right way,” she answered, wrinkling her nose. “To be let off the hook so that I don’t have to make any decisions or say the wrong thing.”

  He remained silent.

  Quickly she ran through the things she’d already learned. “Whatever you want, Master Aldrich.”

  “Good answer.”

  Even though the heater was preset to keep the house at seventy degrees, the exposure left her feeling chilled.

  “What did you want to say?”

  “An orgasm,” she confessed. Or two. Or three. Although she hated to admit it, he’d been right about her responses. Maybe she hadn’t been with a lover as conscientious as he was. And maybe the thrill of his demands turned her on and loosened her inhibitions. “If it pleases you.”

  “How would you like me to turn you on?”

  “Spank my ass, Sir.”

  “That, Zee, is my pleasure.”

  He rubbed her buttocks, and she fought the instinct to clench her muscles. As she’d learned at the club, he’d strike where she wasn’t expecting if she didn’t comply.

  “What do you want me to use on you?”

  She remembered the belt. Fear rippled through her at the realization that he was planning to beat her with it. “Your hand, Sir?” she asked hopefully.

  He laughed, letting her know he was onto her.

  “Whatever you please,” she amended.

  “The belt it is.”

  Anticipation made her go rigid. But he continued to prepare her, taking his time. Despite her apprehension, she couldn’t remain tense.

  “Trust me,” he urged.

  “It’s not your skin that’s going to be flayed by that thing,” she countered.

  “You’ll be begging for it.”

  She doubted that. A flogger was one thing, the achy pressure of the paddle was another. But a leather belt intimidated her because it was much wider than a strand of the flogger and supple enough that its bite would go deeper into her flesh.

  He stroked her pussy. Rational thought vanished, replaced with the first tendrils of desire.

  “We communicate well this way.”

  Mackenzie didn’t respond.

  The longer he toyed with her, the wetter she became.

  “That’s it.” He pushed a finger against her clit.

  Helplessly, she surged back, asking for more.

  But he didn’t give it to her.

  Instead, he gave her a hard spank on her right buttock. He’d caught her off guard, and it took a moment for the pain to register, a few more seconds for it to recede.

  “Now your ass looks even sexier.”

  He distracted her again by stroking between her labia.

  As he continued, alternating between the spanks and the pleasure, she tossed her head. There was no escape, and sensation after sensation piled on her. He didn’t let her come, and he didn’t let her wallow in the pain.

  He increased the pressure against her clit, making her more and more aroused.

  “That’s it,” he said when she moved her hips, seeking release.

  When she felt the impact from the first stroke of leather, she sucked in a breath. He’d hit her above the knees. It wasn’t as ferocious as she’d feared it would be. Instead, it was a bit like the paddle, except for the added sensation when it wrapped around her. “Nice.”

  “That’s my sub.”

  He landed the next below the small of her back.

  She pushed away from the mattress. But before she could protest, he blazed across the fleshiest part of her buttocks.

  Mackenzie made herself lie back down.

  “That’s the right response.”

  The belt had burned like hell, but the momentary anguish faded quickly, leaving heat coiled in the pit of her stomach. She knew he was holding back his strength, but if he continued like this, the belt would become her new favorite implement.

  She’d never look at his waistline the s
ame way.

  He rewarded her behavior by fingering her pussy, toying with her until she moistened further. She couldn’t imagine anything more incredible than this.

  Kennedy continued, ratcheted up his demands, making her whimper.

  “How many strokes will it take to completely cover your thighs and butt?”

  “I don’t know. A dozen?” She wasn’t sure she could endure that.

  “Ten ought to do it.”

  “Thank you,” she said, meaning each word.

  But she’d underestimated him.

  He gave her two of his best hits, and she sobbed.

  She knew any more would be impossible. Yet he continued to arouse her.

  “Ask for the next three.”

  “No!”

  He played with her pussy, stroking in and out, pressing her G-spot, making her grind against the bed sheets.

  “Ask.”

  All pain was forgotten, vanquished under the onslaught. “Yes,” she pleaded.

  “Beg.” He pulled away his hand, and emptiness swamped her.

  She moved around, seeking relief… Anything. “I… Please. Please give me the next three.”

  “Do you want them?”

  “I need them.” And she did. The connection, the impact, the sensation. She felt as if something were clawing at her from the inside. “Please, please. Beat me.”

  “Where?”

  “My thighs. My ass. I don’t care. I just… You.”

  He gave her three more, in random placement, above her knees, in the middle of her thigh. She was drenched in sweat and more turned on than she could ever remember being.

  “I’m not sure I can do much more. I need to come.”

  “You can keep going.”

  “No. No, no, no, no, no.” He had more confidence in her than she did.

  He pinched her already-swollen clit.

  “Can I come?”

  “No. Since that seems to be your favorite word. Wait.”

  “Then give me the last ones. Pl-ease.” The last word broke into two syllables as she sobbed.

  “That’s what I wanted.”

  He laid the final blows, and she was gulping for air.

  “Well done,” he said.

  Then he was there, on his knees, licking her pussy, gliding his fingers in her moistness.