Claimed Harder by Em Brown
Chapter 15
DARREN
Past
Ican’t believe Bridget. Aside from my mother, I’ve never had to work so hard to convince a woman of anything. It’s crazy that I’m even involved with a woman like this, crazy that I want to fuck her brains out this much.
At first, she doesn’t respond to what I’ve just said, like her breath is caught in her throat. Her skin feels soft beneath my fingers, and I hold off on kissing her because I’m curious to hear what she has to say to the spanking.
It seems desire sparkles in her eyes, and when she speaks, her breath is ragged.
“You’re threatening me,” she states. “You ever heard of the phrase ‘you catch more flies with honey?’”
I envision her lying naked upon a table, honey dripping off her body.
“We can do that, too,” I murmur as I pass my thumb across her bottom lip.
“I just—I don’t want you to get the wrong impression about me,” she tries.
“What’s the ‘wrong impression?’”
“That I’m some gold-digger who can be bought by fancy trips to Thailand.”
I stare into her eyes intently. “You’re the opposite of a gold-digger—and that’s not any better.”
She’s taken aback. “How’s that?”
“You going to Thailand with me should be an easy, done deal. Think of it as a gift of a lifetime. Like you won the lotto or something. Accept it and appreciate it.”
“I do appreciate it.”
“Do you? Then why are you making it such a big deal?”
She looks hurt. Her lashes flutter. “I…”
“The money doesn’t mean shit to me, okay? Frankly, I don’t care if you are a gold-digger. I just want to be able to fuck you when I want, how I want, as hard as I want.”
With that, I finally smother her mouth with mine. If she had something to say, I don’t care anymore.
I dig into her mouth, pushing my tongue against hers, consuming what I can. She starts kissing back, which turns me on even more. Grabbing the back of her head, I manipulate her so I can take her at different angles. I kiss her harder, longer, deeper. Till she’s breathless.
“You know you came without permission yesterday,” I murmur over her lips.
“What?”
“With the wand last night, you didn’t ask to come.”
“Was I supposed to?”
“I said you always have to ask before you come.”
She furrows her brow, possibly in disagreement.
“You don’t remember me saying that?” I inquire.
“You did,” she acknowledges.
“So what do you want your punishment to be?”
“Seriously?”
“I don’t mess around when it comes to my rules.”
Her shoulders sag. To add to her difficulty, I kiss my way from her lips, along her jaw, and to her ear, which I nibble and tug with my teeth.
“I don’t know,” she moans. “I’ve never had to ask to come before.”
“You’re going to get yourself nice and wet. And then you’re going to blow me. And that barely qualifies as a punishment.”
She appears okay with that.
“Take your jeans off,” I order.
“There are people walking by!” she protests.
“It’s dark and the windows are tinted,” I reply.
She looks out the car to see that no one is near before undoing the button and pulling down the zipper. She shimmies the garment down her legs. When she pulls them off, she shivers. I turn the car heater on.
“Now the underwear,” I say next.
Once she’s naked from the waist down, I pull aside her left thigh and reach for her pussy. It’s already damp. I slide my fingers over the flesh, grazing the bud hiding between the folds.
“Make yourself wetter.”
She spreads her legs farther and caresses the area between. I undo my own jeans, which, luckily, are button-fly so I don’t have to worry about my cock getting scratched by the zipper. Pulling out my hardened cock, I stroke the shaft while watching her.
“Now taste yourself.”
She hesitates but then lifts her fingers to her lips.
“That’s it,” I encourage. My cock pulses when she pushes her fingers into her mouth. “You look so naughty and sexy right now. You knew you were this naughty?”
She shakes her head.
“Go back to playing with yourself.”
With one hand, she spreads her pussy lips so that her other hand has better access to her clit. My cock is rock hard now.
I put my hand on the back of her head to guide her to my cock.
“Do you have a condom first?” she asks.
“In the glove compartment,” I answer.
She opens it and finds the condoms. After opening one, she rolls the condom over my shaft. I would have preferred head without the rubber. In fact, I can’t remember ever having a condom on when receiving a blow job.
“I don’t want to wear a condom next time,” I tell her.
“You can get tested,” she said, grasping my cock. It flexes in her hold. “There’s a clinic in Berkeley that’s open until ten o’clock.”
I’m there.
I push Bridget’s head down over my cock. She takes me into my mouth. I groan in satisfaction. She sucks on my cock, and the pressure is amazing. That clinic better produce fast results. If this is how good it feels with a condom, I can barely wait to go without one.
I lift my hips to push my length deeper into her mouth. Fisting my hand in her hair, I guide her rhythm.
Fuck. Yes.
I tighten my grasp, tugging on her hair, and push her down farther. She gags, so I relax my hold. When she recovers, I return to the previous motions, making her go up and down my cock. Once in a while, when she goes as far as she can, I hold her in place and try to get her to take a little more. She usually starts to choke. I let up and allow her to dictate her own speed and depth.
Reaching for her ass, I give her a light spank, then grab and shake a buttock. I find her slit and sink two fingers inside. She mews into my groin.
In a bona fide punishment, I’d blow my load and let her stew in her arousal, making her wait hours, maybe days to come. But I want to be buried inside her.
I pull her off by her hair and move my seat back. “Get on top of me.”
When she doesn’t move over, I grab her. She yelps as she bumps into the stick shift. I settle her over my lap, wind my hand through her hair and tug on it before bringing her lips back to mine. As we engage in a mini-marathon of kissing, I unbutton her sweater, then reach up her shirt to unclasp her front-close bra. Pushing aside the bra cups, I grope a breast, kneading it, digging my fingers into the pliant flesh. She moans softly against me. I grasp her hips and grind her against me. My cock thrills to the pressure. It wants more.
Lifting my hips, I spear myself into her.
It feels fucking marvelous every time.
Sex in the front seat isn’t the most comfortable, but I like how her breasts are right in my face. I push up her top and assault a breast. With a moan, she starts to roll her hips at me.
“Put your feet up on my thighs so you can get more leverage,” I tell her. She complies and is able to push herself all the way up my cock. “Nice.”
I go back to licking and sucking on her nipples. Taking her hands, I make her feel herself up, my hands atop hers. I want to see her come, see if she remembers to ask before doing so.
I pin her arms to the steering wheel and buck into her fast and hard. In this position, her head is pushed up against the top of my car. I watch her breasts quiver with my thrusting, her brows knit and her mouth drop open.
“Oh, sh…oh, geez,” she grunts.
“Ask to come,” I remind her.
“Can I c-come?”
“Yes, but next time there are no more reminders. Got it?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Now thank me for letting you come. Usually I’m not such a nice guy.”
“Th-thank you.”
I slow the action and roll my hips more leisurely before I go back to pounding her. I’m going to fuck the I’m-too-good-to-accept-a-trip-to-Thailand out of her.
With a gasp, she erupts, spasming on my cock. It’s followed by a cry. If I wasn’t holding her to the steering wheel, her body might be jerking all over the place. I pull her mouth down to mine before she’s done climaxing and pump my hips several times to drive the tension in my groin out of my cock. My erection throbs madly inside of her.
Wrapping her arms around my neck, she slumps against me. I lie there till my breath returns to normal. Holding onto the condom, I ease out of her and notice the windows are fogged up.
“We should get dinner so that we can make it to this clinic,” I say.
She makes it back to the passenger seat. “I’m really hungry now.”
After we’re presentable again, we head into the restaurant. It’s a hole-in-the-wall type of place but cozy with character.
After the server takes our orders, I sit back in my chair and observe Bridget. She still has that post-coital glow. Though her hair is a little mussed, she looks beautiful.
“So I don’t want to hear any more about the cost of the trip or excuses not to go,” I tell her.
“They’re legitimate reasons. I mean, if you were in my shoes, would you go halfway around the world with a man you haven’t known for a long time?”
“What do you need to know?”
She stares at me. “That I can trust you.”
I shift in discomfort but retort, “What’s the worst that can happen?”
She sighs. “I don’t know. You sell me into the sex trade there?”
I don’t say anything because that kind of shit does happen. It almost happened to Tony’s friend, and I know a few names associated with porn using kidnapped women.
“I’m joking,” she says.
“I know that.”
“You just looked really serious all of a sudden.”
“What do you want from me? Some kind of guarantee? Insurance?”
“Insurance would be good. Or some kind of collateral.”
I think for a moment. “How about ten thousand dollars?”
“What?”
“I’ll put ten thousand dollars into an account for you. You can name your beneficiary. If anything happens to you, they get ten thousand dollars.”
“You would do that?”
I must be going crazy. The amount of money doesn’t bother me, it’s the hoops I’m jumping through just to ease her mind.
“Don’t make me have second thoughts.”
She purses her lips in thought. “My beneficiary only gets the money if there’s proof I’m dead. What if I’m just missing?”
“Look, your friend Amy’s going. Your internship knows you’re going. I assume your other roommates would know, too. If anything happens to you, I’ll be the first suspect.”
“True. Okay, you can keep your collateral.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
“You’re going to Phuket then,” I say. “End of story.”
“End of story. Which means no spanking.”
I lean across the table toward her. “That’s what you think.”
