Claimed Harder by Em Brown
Chapter 17
DARREN
Past
Bridget looks horrified.
I seriously don’t get this woman at all.
Standing in the middle of the living room, she stares at all the outfits Cheryl had laid out. Cheryl has good taste, and I was sure there would be something in the collection that Bridget would take to. Instead, she eyes the clothing as if they’re bugs instead of designer fashions.
“These don’t look like they cost seventy-eight dollars,” Bridget says sternly.
I cross my arms over my chest. “Like I was going to take your money. It was my idea to get you clothes for the trip. I’m taking care of this.”
Bridget does a double take. “You mentioned an outfit for the wedding. One outfit.”
“So what are you going to wear the rest of the time?”
For a second, she’s speechless. “You got a whole wardrobe?”
“How can you not like clothes? All women like clothes.”
“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I want a whole new wardrobe!”
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by her reaction. This is the woman who couldn’t deal with accepting a free trip to Thailand. But I thought clothing would be a different story.
“An expensive wardrobe,” she adds, spotting a price tag.
I rub my temple. “It’s not that much more than the airline ticket. I told Cheryl to shop the cheap places for you.”
Bridget’s eyes widen. “Her definition of ‘cheap’ is wildly different from mine.”
“Fine, you can do the shopping.”
“I’ll take care of getting an outfit for the wedding, but I’m not going to buy an entire wardrobe.”
“I’m offering you a shopping spree. Isn’t shopping a woman’s favorite pastime?”
She rolls her eyes. “That’s an old-fashioned stereotype.”
“Yeah? I dare you to ask ten women whether they love to shop or not. The only one saying no would be you.”
“I have clothes.”
“You’re not going to walk around Phuket wearing sweats. For one, you’d be too hot. It’s summer there.”
“I have shorts. Are you embarrassed by what I’m going to wear? That’s it, isn’t it? I’d bring down your image, just like my ugly sweater didn’t mesh with your swanky club.”
I let out a frustrated breath through my nose. I can’t believe we’re having this argument. For a relationship built on sex, Bridget is more effort than I bargained for. “I said we’re not having a discussion about this,” I say.
“You didn’t mention anything about clothes. I can’t pay for this, and I can’t accept his. That’s the end of the discussion.”
I stare at her in disbelief. I want to wring her neck. Or…
Stepping toward her, I grab her and pull her facedown onto my lap while I sweep the shoes Cheryl bought off the coffee table.
“What—are you—”
She struggles against me while I hold her down by the neck and yank her leggings down past her ass.
“This is not the way to get me to change my mind!” she huffs.
“I know that. This is just for fun,” I snap before groping a buttock.
“This is assault.”
I almost tell her I’ve been guilty of worse. I smack my hand to an ass cheek. The sound is amazing. She yelps and starts to struggle harder. I spank her a few more times before sliding my hand between her thighs.
She stills.
My blood pumps faster. This is the test. I might have crossed a line with Bridget, but I haven’t had a woman not give in before, sexually or otherwise.
“That’s not going to get me to change my mind, either,” she mutters as I fondle her clit.
Right now, I don’t give a fuck about the clothes. I give her ass a hard wallop.
“Geez!” she cries out.
I spank her until her ass is a nice shade of red, then go back to playing with her clit. She goes from grunting to groaning. Now that she’s not struggling as much, I fist my other hand in her hair and pull her head up, forcing her to crane her neck and arch her back. I agitate my digits faster against her flesh.
“Oh my God,” she murmurs.
After I get her wetness flowing, I go back to spanking her. I haven’t given her a safety word, but she hasn’t asked me to stop, either. I rub a buttock and sink my fingers into it. This is a nice piece of ass. I can’t wait to see how cane marks look on it.
“Your ass was made for spanking,” I remark, grabbing an orb, then slapping it. “You know that, Bridge?”
When she doesn’t answer, I yank on her hair. “I asked a question.”
“I thought it was rhetorical,” she grunts. “I did not know.”
I admire the hue. “It’s looking so pretty for me right now. You ever been fucked in the ass?”
“No.”
Something to work towards. I plunge my middle finger into her wet, hot pussy and imagine what it would feel like being in her virginal asshole. Withdrawing, I add my forefinger before pushing back in. She moans.
Last time, I said I wasn’t going to remind her to ask to come. Let’s see how well she remembers.
“Oh my God,” she whimpers as I alternate my hand right-side up, then upside down.
Curling my fingers inside her, I find her preferred spot and angle. After slowly stroking her, I increase the speed of my thrusting.
“I’m going to…” she starts. “Can I come?”
I don’t answer but tighten my grip on her hair.
“Can I come, sir?”
She’s even more trainable than the German Shepherd I had growing up.
“Yeah, come,” I reward her.
She comes undone over my lap with long groans and sustained quaking and the occasional shudder when I jab my fingers back inside her. She lets out a haggard breath.
I flip her onto the oversized ottoman and push her knees to her chest. Holding her ankles in one hand, I undo my pants with the other.
“What’s the birth control situation?” I demand, pulling out my throbbing erection.
“It’s, um, good.”
Perfect. I aim my cock at her slit. In this position, it would be so easy to sink into that other hole. It looks so cute and puckered.
“Grab your legs,” I tell her.
She obeys. I brace an arm against the ottoman and push into her wet heat.
It. Feels. So. Fucking. Good.
I knew it would. The wetness against my skin, the feel of flesh against flesh. Pleasure shoots up my spine and boils in my balls. With a groan, I pull my hips away from her before sliding my cock back in, burying myself as far as I can go. I still myself to savor every inch, letting my cock throb inside of her.
“That feel good?” I ask her.
Her eyes appear extra bright as she nods. As I take my time rolling my hips, I keep my gaze on her face so that I can catch every furrow, strain, pout or grimace. After a while, I push her legs down and to the side so that her body forms an L-shape, only she’s still on her back. She moans as my cock strokes a different part of her pussy.
“You like that?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“You want to come like this?”
“Yes, please.”
I accelerate my thrusting. Her lashes flutter quickly. Her brows knit together. She grabs the edges of the ottoman behind her head.
“You like your spanking?” I ask.
“Uh…”
I shove myself hard into her.
“Yes!”
“That the truth?”
She bites down on her lower lip and nods. I pound into her more intensely.
“Oh, geez…I’m gonna come!”
“Not yet.”
“I can’t—”
“I said not yet.”
She squeezes her eyes shut and appears to do her best to hold back her orgasm. “I…”
Her body starts to jerk beneath me. She emits a sobbing groan. It sends me over the edge. With a few furious thrusts, I hit my peak. Grunting loudly, I empty my cum into her while pleasure shakes me from head to toe. When the last of the shudders has left my body, I press my forehead to hers.
“Coming without permission,” I tell her. “You know what the punishment will be.”
“More spanking?” she guesses.
“You go to Thailand. My way. On everything. Absolutely zero discussion. And, yes, more spanking.”
