Claimed

by Daryn Rayne

  Before she can kiss him, he slams her mouth to his. He was fucking kissing her. Hell, it wasn't even kissing her. He was fucking her mouth with a hunger I haven’t seen from him in a long time. Right before I turned around to leave, he pulled his mouth away from hers and stared into her eyes. It was a brief moment, but damn if it didn't seem to last forever. My heart crumbled right there. An instant later, rage fills me. I debate for a moment—do I walk away, drown in vodka and my tears? Or do I confront them? Deciding to be a ‘lady’ about the matter, I turn on my heels, heading back the way I came.

  That is when I run into HIM. I couldn’t be more embarrassed. Granted, I could play it off, this is, after all, a sex club. No one here would have to know I just watched my husband cheat on me.

  “Whoa, sweetheart, where’s the fire.” My heart cracks a bit at the concern evident in his voice.

  Pulling myself together, I apologize, “Oh, I am sorry, I didn’t see you there.” Before I can make further excuses, I hear the door slam behind me.

  “Dani, baby—“

  My entire body tenses up those two words break my resolve to be calm and collected. Right now, I want blood. Every instinct I had telling me something was off was spot on.

  “Don’t you fucking ‘Dani baby’ me, you asshole” I watch with little delight as he blanches at the venom in my tone. Even during our worst arguments, I have never spoken to him with such disdain. I guess catching your husband with his dick shoved down a woman’s throat will do that. Oh, I get it, he thought he got away with it all. My stilettos make a resounding clack as I take the three paces to him, making sure I am in his face. I smell her on him, and the scent is nauseating.

  “Did you enjoy fucking her mouth, Tommy? Was it worth it? I hope it was everything you imagined and worth the price you just paid.”

  “Baby, it’s not what you think—“

  “Oh, so I just imagined your dick in her mouth? That isn’t what I think?” My voice continues to rise. I have a loose hold on the reigns of my self-control. “What I think is you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants—yet again. The first chance you get, you gave in to temptation. I’m done. You better be out of my house when I get home, or I swear I will burn everything you own.”

  With that, I turn and walk away.

  That no-good son of a bitch. After all, I have put up with. After everything I have done and sacrificed for him, he has the nerve to cheat on me?!

  Well, D, you were in a sex club.

  Doesn’t fucking matter. We have FUCKING RULES. He knows them. That was the deal before we started this shit. I didn’t want this. I have sucked it all up… Don’t get me wrong, the thought is enticing… Not the point Dani. I did this for him. Every single time he wanted to come, I said, “No. I am not comfortable,” and he would go on and on about how he loved the atmosphere, loved the sensuality to it all. And the whole time he is FUCKING CHEATING ON ME. That mother fucker…

  Great Dani… you are fucking talking to yourself. I stop when I reach the hotel door, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. I look up and realize… I have walked three blocks. In my ranting and raving to myself, I left the club and took off. That is wonderful. I left my purse along with my no-good husband. Smart Dani. Now, I have no way to get into my room. Thankfully, the staff here knows me well, and it isn’t long before I am back in my room doing a head dive into the minibar. Apparently, one is able to consume approximately three tiny bottles of vodka before their lips go numb… so I hear, anyway.

  Don’t judge me, I’m a bit of a lightweight. Twisting the cap off the fourth bottle of my self-prescribed medication, I head for the shower, determined to wash the night away under the rainforest shower head. Sending up prayers to the deities of drunken mortals, I step in the shower and allow myself a moment of self-pity. The tears come, and I watch as they flow down the drain, taking every bit of energy I have left. I sit in the shower until there are no more tears. Once I am confident the waterworks are over, I step out the shower and into the comfy shower robe—something about thick fluffy robes that give you a sense of comfort—only to be greeted by a knock on the door.

  That better not be fucking Tommy—between the vodka and his actions tonight, I'm liable to stab him with my fucking comb.

  Chapter 4

  Joel

  I stand in front of her door for a minute and contemplate what to do. Do I knock, or do I just leave? She is probably going to think I am some fucked up stalker. I start to walk away, but then remember I have her purse. She left it at the club when she stormed out. We noticed it in the coat check after everyone left. I could have just left it there--I should have just left it there and let her come back later for it. After a few minutes of talking to myself and staring at a damn purse, I decide to man up and knock on the door. I convince myself I am just doing this to be considerate. She is, after all, a member of my club. It is the gentlemanly thing to do… right?

  I hear the lock turn, and before the door is fully open, the anger is radiating from her.

  “What the fuck do you want?” She looks up and notices me. I can’t help but raise an eyebrow at the look on her face. Her cheeks redden in embarrassment. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.” I can’t help but chuckle.

  “I would hate to be them,” I reply with a small smile.

  She clears her throat, pulling the robe tighter around her chest “Is there something I can help you with?”

  “Ah, yes, I was returning your purse. You left it at the club,".

  “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that. That is very kind.”

  “Well, I wanted to check on you too, make sure you were okay. You ran out of there like you had seen a ghost.” At that, she turns her head slightly, and I notice the tears welling up in her eyes.

  “Shit, I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

  “No, I’m good. Thank you for bringing this to me. You didn’t have to waste your time. Really, I could have gotten it tomorrow.”

  I take a look around her room and see quite a few bottles of vodka from the mini-bar are now empty—crying and drunk. “Are you ok?” I can’t help but ask yet again as I step a little closer. She raises her face to mine, and a single tear falls. It is my undoing. I lift my hand, placing it on her cheek. Using my thumb to gently wipe the tear away, I am expecting her to turn away or pull away, anything except what happens next.

  She turns her face into my hand and closes her eyes. I feel the shaky exhale of her breath against my palm. My thumb moves down her cheeks and traces her full, pink lips. Her eyes open, and the look I receive cuts my resolve to the quick. With her eyes on mine, she darts her tongue out and gently swirls it around my thumb.

  That is my undoing. I grab her head and move to taste her lips. I stop just short of kissing her, looking deep into her eyes and asking for permission before moving forward. She closes the miniscule gap between us and kisses me with a fervor I have never felt. I taste the vodka on her lips the moment they touch mine. Her tongue meets mine, the taste a sweet nectar, a hint of sweetness and home. It grabs me and pulls me in, stronger than any drug. I am addicted to her taste.

  I have a moment of clarity, a single second where I wonder if I should be doing this. She is married, not to mention she has had a bit to drink and is emotionally charged, two things that make for an unstable equation. I start to tear myself away from her mouth which is now my drug of choice. Before I can move, she presses her body firmly against mine, moaning slightly into my mouth, giving me another taste of her sweet essence that is pure addiction. I lose all resolve. I grab her ass and lift her with ease and making my way through the door, I kick it shut with my foot. Reaching behind me, I lock the door. Never breaking our kiss, I make my way to the bed.

  Her legs are wrapped around my waist, her kiss screams desire, desperation, and need. It’s as if she is dying of thirst, and I am the first drop of water she has seen in a month. Our tongues tangle in a mix of unbridled lust and need, fucking each other in the way our bod
ies are craving

  I reach the bed and gently set her down. My eyes caress her body, taking in every ounce of her, searing the gentle planes of her body into my mind. She falls to the bed, causing her white robe to part, showing me every inch of her thigh, hiding what I covet the most. My eyes make their way back up her delicious body, stopping at her lips. I hunger for another taste.

  Leaning in slightly, I kiss her gently at first, tracing her lips with my tongue. Her mouth parts on a gasp, granting me access, and I take it, plundering between her lips the way I want to take her body slow, deep and hard. My knee is on the bed between her thighs, her robe parted, her body pressed against mine in the most delicious way.

  Putting my hand on her thigh inside the robe, grazing over the smooth curves of her body, her legs part just enough to grant me the admittance I need. Making my way up to her breast, my fingers graze the side of her full, luscious tits, causing her to break our kiss momentarily and moan. I catch her cries in my mouth, kissing her harder, my thumb moving in small circles while easing toward her nipples. She is so responsive. Her body bows toward me, causing her pussy to rub against my thigh. I can’t help but grind my dick into her belly slightly.

  Before I can move any further, the shrill sound of her phone interrupts us. I break away and glance at the pesky abomination on the nightstand. As if immediately doused in cold water, my mood is shot. I hand her the phone and head into the bathroom, giving her some privacy.

  I splash cold water on my face and take a long hard look in the mirror.

  What the fuck are you doing Joel? She is married and just saw her husband cheat on her. The last thing she needs is you coming on to her.

  Chapter 5

  Dani

  I answer the phone without a word, letting the silence speak for me. I know deep down if I don’t get this out the way, he will continue to call. His first words are begging my forgiveness, swearing it was an accident and the alcohol. After telling him to just leave me alone, I needed time to think, I hang up and turn my phone off.

  Putting my head in my hands, I feel worse than I did before I got in the damn shower. What the fuck am I doing? I am drunk and two minutes ago, had my husband NOT called, I would probably be riding that hard dick that was just grinding into my belly. I am so fucked up. Guilt washes over me, bringing yet another round of ugly crying.

  I can’t stop the silent tears that fall without my permission. The gentle creak of the bathroom door brings me back to reality. I watch as Joel tentatively makes his way to me, holding a glass of water.

  “Here, drink this.”

  I take the glass of water. “Thank you.” Our fingers graze each other, the butterflies in my stomach taking flight, adding to my ever-mounting guilt.

  “Look, I’m sorry for that. I don’t know what—"

  He stops me before I can continue, “Shh. Don’t worry about it.” He nods towards my phone “What did he want?”.

  I sigh heavily and drop my head back to my hands, running my fingers through my hair before I look back up and answer his question.

  “He wants me to forgive him. Not throw our marriage away over a stupid mistake. Said we both went willingly to the sex club, and he won’t do it again.”

  “And how do you feel about it? You seemed pretty upset despite the fact you both went willingly as you put it.”

  Before I know it, I am lost in a world filled with pain from the past, spilling my guts to this relative stranger more than I have to my closest friends. I take a deep breath, diving into the memory, spilling my utmost failure as a woman.

  “I can’t get pregnant. The one thing my body is designed to do, and I am unable to do it.” I fidget with the duvet cover, unable to look him in the eyes as I plow through.

  “Tommy and I had been trying to get pregnant for over a year. Everything was timed to the minute. Every time we had sex, when the temperature was right, when I ovulated, how long I laid in the bed with my feet up in the air—all of it planned to the second... down to the heartbreak of when shark week would arrive.

  The second I saw it, the bright red that symbolized the death of another opportunity, I was done. I couldn't take it any longer—the injections, the weight gain, but mostly the roller coaster of emotions—I was just over it. Don’t get me wrong, I felt a pang in my chest and grieved the loss of never being able to conceive a child on my own, carry a baby within my body. Yet there was also relief in my decision to be done, a contentment I could move on, we could pursue other methods. I thought he would be okay with it. Things between us had been strained over the course of the last three to four months—it seemed the stress of everything was taking its toll as if we lost each other somehow in our quest to start a family.”

  “When he got home, I told him my period came and that I was done. He lost it, called me a quitter and couldn't believe I was giving up. Said I never wanted kids, anyway and wasn't trying hard enough. I quite frankly told him to go fuck himself. I couldn’t keep putting my heart through the constant disappointment. He ranted and raved about how I was making this decision without him, it wasn’t my choice, and I was yet again giving up, taking away his chance to be a father. I tried to tell him we could still start a family, there are plenty of babies out there who need loving, devoted parents. He politely said thanks but no thanks, he didn’t want someone else’s rejects. He literally said that.”

  I watch the horror cross Joel's face at Tommy’s words. To be honest, as I speak them aloud, I can’t help but feel the same resentment toward Tommy. I press on, determined to purge this time in my life.

  “So, with that, he stormed out of the house, cutting me to the core when he said ‘Thanks for taking my dream away, Danica. Way to be a team player.’ Leaving me to my tears, a bottle of Chianti, and a box of Sees Dark Chocolate. I ate and drank my feelings before exhaustion took over, and I succumbed to sleep. I woke up the next morning to Tommy laid out across the chaise lounge in our bedroom. Figuring he got in late, I started picking up his clothes, letting him sleep, you know. Well, I remember the exact moment it hit me.

  I had bent down to pick up his shirt and pants and found a condom wrapper. I mean, I guess I should be glad he used protection, but what idiot forgets to throw away the condom wrapper. Now, I have to tell you, I have never been prone to violence, I was raised to be a lady. Women in my social standing do not show emotion. We internalize, process, and quietly take care of the situation with a modicum of decorum. A lady does not resort to fist as they say.

  On this day… I was not a lady. Grabbing his foot, I yanked his cheating ass off the chaise. His head hit the floor with a resounding thud. Obviously, that was a rude awakening for him. He jumped up, intent on lashing into me, I am sure. That is until I tossed the torn-up wrapper in his face. He immediately launched into the poor pitiful ‘I’m sorry, baby. I was drunk, and it didn’t mean anything.’ Proceeding to tell me it all started when he was out of sorts at work. The bitch of a whore is, well, was a co-worker.”

  A brief knock at the door pulls me from the depths of my memories.

  “One second, sweets.” He holds up a finger and answers the door. I am only slightly bewildered by him just making himself at home. I hear a murmur of voices at the door, but soon he is headed back to my bedside with a tray. The delectable scent of warm chocolate invades my nostrils.

  He proceeds to arrange me as he sees fit, essentially tucking me into bed, pulling the covers up to my waist.

  “How did you… when did you…”

  “Shhhh, here, sip on this. Go on, finish your story.”

  I can’t believe this man. I don’t remember the last time someone made such a small gesture of kindness toward me. I take a sip of the hot chocolate, and warmth fills my body, the taste of the rich drink exploding on my tongue. I could drink my weight in this stuff. Setting the cup aside I take a deep breath and plow on.

  “So, where was I? Oh, yeah, so this team player of his apparently noticed he was more on edge than usual and asked him what was up. The
y began talking and even met for drinks a few times after work. She supposedly ‘helped him’ and was understanding when he confided in her. Obviously, when I dropped the bomb that shattered his dreams of fatherhood, he turned to her. So that leads to sex, apparently. He said he missed how spontaneous we used to be and hated how clinical everything was—it took away his manhood. He needed to feel like a man again. He told me he loved me and realized the moment he did it, he had fucked up, but what was done was done.

  “Long story short, I took him back and gave him another chance because let’s face it, he had something of a valid point…. I mean our sex life had become very clinical, a job almost. Everything was wrapped up in getting pregnant, it wasn’t fun anymore. Anyway, here we are. We started exploring the whole lifestyle as a way to spice things up. To be honest, I don’t even know why I agreed.” My voice trails off, and I slowly sip on my hot chocolate more of an excuse to give me something to do, distract me from those glacier blue eyes that see too much.