Claiming London

by Becca Jameson

  When he released that nipple and switched to the other, she smoothed her hands down to his shoulders. Her panties grew wetter by the second, and she squeezed her legs together at the onslaught of sensation.

  Pierce released the second nipple with a pop and stood, staring down at her. His expression was devious as he took her hands and backed across the room, taking her with him.

  She glanced past him as they got closer to the wall of windows and licked her lips. “Pierce…” She definitely enjoyed a bit of exhibitionism. At the club. But a public display of her naked body was probably more than she could endure.

  Nevertheless, she let him lead her to the window, and then she let him position her in front of it, facing the outside. She trembled as he circled behind her and then urged her closer to the glass with a hand on her back.

  She sucked in a sharp breath when her damp nipples grazed the cold windowpane, her hands fisted at her sides. She couldn’t do this. It was too much.

  Pierce grabbed her hands and lifted them up above her head. His lips landed on her ear. “Safeword?”

  “Marriage,” she whispered, thinking now was a good time to use it. She couldn’t imagine why he wanted to expose her like this. It wasn’t sexy. It was humiliating. “Pierce…”

  “London.”

  She didn’t want to use her safeword with him. She wanted him to automatically know this was outside of her comfort zone. She pursed her lips, staring out the window. There were cars going by only one story below. There were other buildings across from his with businesses and apartments.

  His hand returned to her lower back, keeping her in place as she shivered. “You want to use that safeword?”

  She struggled inside. She didn’t want to need to use it. Disappointment filled her. As she watched a group of people below his apartment congregate, she squirmed in his hold. “Marriage.”

  He didn’t release her, but she was certain he smiled against her ear. “Good girl. You almost failed that test. I need to know you will use your safeword even with me. It’s no good if you won’t use it.” He released her and pulled her a few inches away from the window. “The glass is tinted. No one can see in at any point, day or night.” He let those words hang in the air for a while as he gently pried her fists open and flattened her palms on the glass.

  She absorbed his words, letting her gaze roam around. No one was looking at her. Not from across the street or down below. No one.

  “I would never expose you outside the club. Never. But I know you’re a bit of an exhibitionist. I bet if you pretend all those people can see you, you’ll come for me the second I touch your pussy.”

  He was right. It took her a few more seconds to wrap her mind around the scene, and then she relaxed, enjoying the truth in his words.

  “Am I right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. You still want to use that safeword?”

  “No.”

  He dragged his hands down her body to her jeans, sliding his fingers around front to unbutton and unzip the denim. After tugging them over her hips, he kneeled behind her and removed first her shoes and then her jeans and panties and socks. His hands smoothed up her thighs and over her ass as he resumed standing. “Spread your legs, baby.”

  She did as he instructed, her gaze still roaming around outside. Knowing that not a soul could see her wasn’t enough to take away from the thrill of possible exposure. It gave her a jolt of adrenaline when she pretended people in the building across from her were watching. It was sexy. He’d planned that well. He knew her.

  He pressed a palm into her lower back and then eased it down until his fingers reached between her legs and found her pussy.

  She rose onto her toes and moaned at the contact, her arousal shooting to incredible heights.

  His lips, once again on her ear. “I’m going to swat this sweet ass for your hesitation. I don’t ever want you to hesitate to use your safeword again. Understood?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will it trigger you if I spank you?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Not at all.”

  “I only suggest it because I’ve seen others spank you at the club.”

  She turned her face toward him and met his gaze. “Maybe it seems irrational, but there is no connection between consensual BDSM from a calm individual in an agreed-upon scene and an angry sonofabitch slamming me against the wall and kicking me when I hit the ground.”

  His eyes closed, and he inhaled slowly. Not surprising. That was the first time she’d so blatantly expressed how Louis treated her.

  “I would suggest that you never even come close to hitting me out of anger. I would leave you before you could take your next breath, and you would never see me again.”

  “And I would never in my life hit a woman in anger. I swear that to you.” His hand smoothed over her bottom while he spoke. “Five swats. Count them.”

  She nodded.

  He held her gaze as he lifted his hand and spanked her butt.

  She rose on her toes again, knowing this spanking was not going to punish her in the least. “One,” she stated.

  Another swat, fingers wide, hitting her right cheek.

  “Two,” she purred.

  Still holding her gaze, he spanked the other cheek.

  “Three.” She was impressed with his precision considering his gaze was on her eyes in the window and not her butt.

  The fourth one hit high and centered. The fifth also in the center but low.

  She whimpered as she breathed out the last number.

  His fingers were thrust into her pussy before she finished the syllable, making her cry out.

  She gripped the glass with the tips of her fingers, arching her chest so that her nipples hit the cold window.

  “So wet,” he murmured against her neck as she set her forehead against the glass. “Watch the people down below while I finger you.”

  Her mouth fell open and she did as he instructed. There were high-pitched sounds in the room. She knew they came from her. She didn’t care. Hopefully the walls of his condo were well insulated.

  When he added another finger, her eyes fluttered shut.

  “Watch the sidewalk, London.” She opened her eyes, blinking, her ardor increasing as she imagined the two men just below her lifting their gazes to see her being so thoroughly fucked against the window.

  “That’s a girl. You’re so hot like this.” He pulled his fingers from her channel but immediately replaced them with his thumb, using the fingers to straddle her clit and rub back and forth. “You may come whenever you want, but you have to ask permission first. If you fail to do so, that will be the only orgasm you get. If you succeed, I’ll turn your body into a limp noodle before noon.”

  She moaned louder. His demand seemed simple enough, but she knew it would be difficult to comply. She returned her focus to the way her clit stiffened and swelled.

  He pressed his thumb high and tight against the front of her vaginal wall. That was the last straw.

  London gasped before reminding herself of his instructions. “Please. I need to come.”

  “Good girl. Come.”

  She groaned louder as she let the waves of pleasure wash through her. Pulses that came from her clit as well as her G-spot. Her legs started to wobble, but Pierce held her in place. He gradually eased his touch until his fingers disappeared from her.

  The orgasm had been spectacular, but it wasn’t enough. He’d denied her for too long. She wanted to feel him filling her.

  “Don’t move, baby.” He released her. She heard the lowering of his zipper and then imagined every move as his shoes hit the ground, the rustling of fabric slid from his body, and finally the distinctive rip of a condom wrapper.

  She expected him to thrust into her right then and there, but instead, his heat disappeared, and the next thing she knew he was dragging a chair toward the window. “Sit, London.”

  She turned around to find not a kitchen chair, but a dark hardwood bar stool. P
ierce grabbed her waist and set her on the stool. He had it situated less than a foot from the window. “Plant your feet on the glass, wide.”

  The obscenity of her position made her arousal kick back up as she spread her legs and exposed her open pussy to the window. It didn’t matter than no one could see her. Pierce was a genius. All she needed was the suggestion to make her squirm.

  Instead of thrusting into her now, as she expected, he ducked under her leg, kneeled between her legs, grabbed her thighs, and lowered his face to her sex.

  London’s head rolled back and her entire body stiffened at the contact. He didn’t ease into the assault. He sucked her hard, his tongue flicking over very sensitive flesh. His hands were so large that he was able to hold her open with his thumbs while grasping her ass with his fingers.

  His tongue was wicked, flicking rapidly over her clit. She was so close to a second orgasm. Did his rule still stand? She wasn’t going to risk it, so she cried out his name as she lifted her hips for more. “Pierce, I’m going to come.”

  One second his lips were on her pussy, the next second he was standing, his cock at her entrance. He gripped the length with one hand, teasing her swollen lower lips. “I want to be inside you when you come this time.”

  She nodded. She wanted that same thing more than words could express.

  Grabbing her hips with both hands, he thrust into her to the hilt.

  She screamed. It had been so long since she’d last had sex with him. He was so thick and long. Even though she’d fucked a few other men in the last six months, none of them were as skilled as Pierce. None of them made her eyes roll back and her mouth dry up. No one came close.

  None of them were Pierce.

  He rode her hard, holding her steady while she kept her feet planted on the window. If anyone could see in at that point, they would be looking at Pierce’s fine ass, which was just as arousing as the thought of being ogled herself.

  A rush of emotion overcame her as she reached another peak and tipped over the edge. Powerful feelings. The only other time she’d felt anything similar had been the last time he’d had sex with her, the night before he left town.

  This was better, however. This time he’d talked her into a commitment. It should scare the hell out of her to so blatantly reveal how much she enjoyed having him buried inside her. But she couldn’t hide her responses. And for once she didn’t want to.

  She grabbed his hips, her fingers digging into them, holding him deep as he came. She shamelessly rocked her clit against the base of his cock, absorbing waves of pleasure. She also met his gaze and held it, communicating without words how much this meant to her.

  Pierce not only had her naked, but he had her inside out.

  It scared her to show that vulnerability, but it also brought relief. And she more than deserved to feel cared for after years of being told she was not worth any man’s time or energy.

  To hell with Louis. He’d been wrong.

  Chapter 16

  Monday was more or less like any other day for London. She went to class, she spent some time in the library, and then she worked at Joe’s for the afternoon shift.

  She’d told Pierce her schedule the previous afternoon, so she wasn’t surprised that he only texted her once in the afternoon. A brief text to say hello and remind her to please please use Uber to get home from work.

  Her chest did not seize, nor did the earth crack down the middle just because the man she’d had amazing sex with the day before sent her a text. Yes, things were different between them. Making that tiny commitment was monumental for her. But she wasn’t hyperventilating, and by the time she received his text, she had been looking forward to it.

  What made Monday slightly different, however, was that she spent the majority of her class staring out the window and then three hours in the school library wandering the aisles as if answers about her career choice would come to her by proximity to books.

  Poetry? What the hell was she thinking? She’d begun to realize the only reason she’d gone back to school to work on that degree was because it had been her goal before she met Louis, and to spite him, she wanted to get the damn degree.

  But did poetry still call to her soul? No. Not even close. She enjoyed reading it and studying it, but she knew she never wanted to write it or teach it. After three hours of wandering around the library, she took a deep breath and once again took charge of her life by marching to the registrar’s office and withdrawing from both of her classes.

  She couldn’t be sure what she wanted to do next, but it wasn’t poetry, and she had no one to prove anything to by continuing the farce.

  She slept better Monday night than she had in weeks. Her shift at the bar had worn her out, and the relief from dropping those two classes calmed her more than she’d expected.

  Tuesday morning, she jumped out of bed and plopped herself down in front of her computer with a cup of coffee and a piece of toast. Her life had been careening out of control. She hadn’t cared, nor did it matter how many things she tried out or how many jobs she worked, but she felt an overwhelming need to find herself.

  It was obvious that jumping from job to job or jumping out of planes was doing nothing to guide her, so she needed to open her mind and consider her options. Long-term options. Stable options. Ones that would give her a sense of pride.

  First, she looked at her finances. She’d sold the house and all of its contents six months ago. She could live for about another six months on the proceeds alone, but not forever. Even with a modest apartment and few expenses, she needed far more than a part-time job.

  She also needed to get in better shape. Even though Colin had insisted she work with him at least once a week on self-defense, she really needed to do more. So, after looking through want ads online for an hour, her eyes blurring from scanning, she changed into workout clothes and headed for the gym.

  The workout felt amazing and gave her more energy. She was smiling as she stopped at the community information board out front and scanned the flyers. By the time she’d read about ten advertisements, she was cringing. Could no one spell? And what the hell happened to punctuation?

  Finally, a small colorful ad in the corner caught her eye. Bungee jumping. She hadn’t checked that off her list yet. Skydiving, yes. Bungee jumping, not yet. Was she still being reckless? People would roll their eyes at her. Like Rayne and Colin and Aaron and now even Pierce. Too bad. She got a rush from trying new things. It filled a void. Whether or not her reasons were sound, she still enjoyed the danger and excitement. So, she pulled out her phone, dialed the number before she could chicken out, and made an appointment for that Saturday.

  She was still feeling good about herself as she headed for her car and even pulled out her phone to text Pierce. He hadn’t contacted her yet that morning. In fact, his only text had been the one on Monday. She knew he was probably chomping at the bit, but she admired him for giving her time and space. If he rushed her, it would backfire, a fact she’d reminded him of when he took her home Sunday evening.

  Her fingers were hovered over the keypad when she changed her mind at the last second and decided to call him instead. As she climbed into her car, the phone rang.

  “Hey.” His cheerful voice made her smile.

  “Hey, yourself. Am I interrupting a big crime development?”

  He chuckled. “No. I’m just eating lunch actually. At my desk. What are you up to?”

  “I just left the gym.”

  “The gym?” He laughed again.

  “Why is that funny?” She asked, knowing full well she was a bag of daily surprises and therefore couldn’t be insulted by his shock.

  “You’ve never mentioned the gym before. I didn’t know you were a member of one.”

  “Yeah, well, I might have neglected my body lately. I’m rectifying that. Figured I would have more energy if I worked out regularly.”

  “I can’t picture anyone with more energy than you have. Did it work?” He was still chuckling.
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  “Don’t make fun, big guy. It worked. I felt amazing until I got to the community board and found spelling errors all over the notifications.”

  Now he was laughing outright. “Does such a thing often bother you?”

  “It’s a hazard of having an English degree. Commas. Colons. Hyphens.” She cringed.

  “And yet, you’re concentrating on poetry. Why not switch back to English? I bet you could get a copy-editing job somewhere. No one would care that you graduated several years ago. All that matters is that you still know your grammar.”

  London froze, his suggestion reaching her far more than he could know. She stared out the windshield, thinking of the possibilities.

  “London? Babe? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you or pressure you.”

  She shook her head back to the conversation. “No. You’re right. I was just thinking. In fact, don’t get your feathers all in a ruffle, but I dropped my poetry classes yesterday. It didn’t feel right.”

  “Okaaayyy.”

  She sat up straighter, preparing to defend herself. “I know you and Colin and Rayne and Aaron and even Hope all think I’m flaky and out of control, but I’m not. I’m finding myself. It takes trial and error.”

  “London, I’m not judging you. I was kinda surprised you were taking those poetry classes, to be honest. You didn’t seem passionate about it. I mean I get that you enjoy reading it, and that tattoo you got is very meaningful. It speaks to your soul. But it’s kind of like art. I like to look at it and own it, but I’m not a painter. I’ve never seen you writing.”

  Relief made her exhale slowly. “Yeah, I thought of exactly that. I think I was trying to prove I could do it, but I realized I don’t need to prove myself to anyone. No one cares what I do. I just need to find myself.”

  “It’s a recurring theme. Finding yourself. You don’t have to rush. You’ve got time. It’s only been nine months. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t have all the time in the world. Eventually I’m going to run out of money. It’s not like fifteen hours as a bartender pays my bills.”