Claimed Darker by Em Brown

Chapter 18

BRIDGET

Past

By Friday, I’ve ruled out needle play. But regardless of which hard limit I end up choosing, I question my sanity. I would have tried talking Darren into going to the concert with JD and Amy, but (a) I’m not the biggest Rai-Rai fan, and (b) I don’t like delaying the inevitable. I prefer tearing the band-aid off quick.

When Friday rolls around, I’m a bundle of nerves. During stats class, my mind keeps wandering. I go for a jog and that helps settle me. My mindset improves, and I tell myself I can do this. Past experiences, while not always predictors of the future, suggest that a magnificent orgasm will make it all worth it in the end.

But there’s often a curveball with Darren.

“I’m stuck at the club waiting for someone,” Darren tells me over the phone, “but I’ll have one of my security guys pick you up.”

“Like I’ve said before, I can get there on my own,” I reply. “I’m a big girl.”

“It’ll be dark and cold.”

“I’ve got this amazing sweater that keeps my really warm.”

He chuckles, then says seriously, “You’re getting picked up.”

I’ve chosen not to battle the small stuff with Darren, though a part of me wonders if by doing so, I’m only encouraging more dictatorial ways: the broken window theory applied to overbearing and dominant penchants.

“But first, you’re going to get out that vibrator I gave you,” Darren says.

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

Part of me is reluctant because even though I have the bedroom to myself, since Amy already left for the concert, Kat is in her bedroom. What is if she decides to knock on my door?

The other part of me is eager for the stimulation. I haven’t come in several days, which is normally not a big deal, but my sex drive has been amped up ever since I met Darren. And even though the thought of dropping something from the list of hard limits has me nervous, it hasn’t diminished my arousal. I did touch myself in the shower the day I got back, then masturbated the other night while lying in bed, but when I texted Darren for permission to come, the reply came back in the negative.

I texted him the same question five minutes later. Same answer.

Screw this, I initially thought. I shouldn’t need his permission to come, but it’s just a game. At least it is to me. I assume it is for him to, but I’m not 100% sure.

It was frustrating to stop. I wanted to keep caressing myself, even though my orgasms from a hand job are much smaller than the ones I get with Darren. But I did as told, got up and putzed around, trying to find a distraction to simmer down my frustration, finally settling on a bag of wasabi peas. I’m actually not a fan of how the wasabi burns through my nose, but I wanted something crunchy.

“Will I get to come?” I ask, pulling the vibrator from a dresser drawer.

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

I make a face at my cellphone.

“Before you turn it on,” Darren continues, “I want you to remember when you were over here last time. What were the fun parts for you?”

I think back. “The elevator sex. I’ve never done it in an elevator before.”

That happened the morning after he caught me picking at my stitches. He had made reservations for breakfast, but we ended up more than twenty minutes late due to the impromptu quickie.

“What else?” he asks.

“The orgasm at your club.”

“Which one?”

It’s crazy that there’s multiple to choose from. There’s the one I had while sitting alone at the table with the egg vibrating in me. The one I had from vanilla sex on the sofa after I had already come twice on the—

“St. Andrew’s cross,” I answer. “It was…intense.”

My body perks up, wanting to experience it again.

“Both of them?” he inquires.

“Yeah,” I sigh, then shiver.

“Were the nipple clamps fun?”

“Kind of. Not when you were pulling on them, though.”

“You can turn the vibrator on now.”

I settle beneath my blanket and fit the vibrator down my sweatpants.

“You wearing anything?” he asks.

“I don’t hang around my apartment naked.”

“Underwear?”

“Yes.”

“Where’s the vibrator right now?”

“Between my legs.”

“Your pussy liking it?”

I close my eyes and draw in a long breath. “Yes.”

“I want you to get that pussy nice and wet for me. Got that?”

“Yes…sir.”

“The vibrations feeling good?”

“Definitely.” My body drinks in the pleasure.

“You know how many times I got off thinking about the fun we’re going to have tonight?” he asks in a low baritone.

“No.”

“Five.”

“Lucky,” I accuse.

I can hear the smile in his voice. “Poor baby wants to come, doesn’t she?”

“Yes. Please, can I come?”

“Not yet.”

I have to take the vibrator away so I’m not tempted to disobey. My pussy is very frustrated.

“But I’ve been good, sir,” I try. “I haven’t come once. Doesn’t seem fair if you got to come five times.”

“It’s not fair,” he acknowledges.

And? But there’s no and.

“You still got the vibrator against your pussy?” he asks instead.

“No.”

“Put it back.”

I do as he says.

After several minutes, he asks, “On a scale of one to ten, how badly do you want to come right now?”

“Seven. At least. I haven’t come once since I left your place several days ago.”

“Not once?”

“Not once.”

“You’ve done good then.”

I can feel the peak nearing again. “Don’t good girls get rewarded?”

“They do.”

“So can I come?”

“First, turn off the vibrator.”

Aargh! Sometimes I wonder why I’m with the guy.

But I know perfectly well that, as aggravating as he can be, there’s no one else I’d rather be with right now.

“It’s still on, Bridge.”

With an angry pout, I turn it off. Damn you, Darren Lee.

I lay there in silence for several beats. My body quivers with need. I am so tempted to hang up on him and turn the vibrator back on.

He waits a few more minutes before saying, “You can turn it back on.”

Finally!

Happily, I turn it on and press the vibrator harder against me. It hums merrily along. He’s going to let me come this time, right? It wouldn’t take long. He just has to give the go-ahead and—

“Cheryl just told me the guy I’m expecting is here,” he says. “I’ll send my guy over now. Be ready in thirty minutes.”

The call ends. I’m left holding a vibrator, aghast and in dismay. I deserve to come after all that. I should just do it. Keep the vibrating going. It feels so good. So good…

But he’s going to ask, and I’m not very good at lying. Then he’ll conjure up some sort of punishment that might be worse than one of the hard limits he’s asking me to give up.

Reluctantly I turn off the vibrator. I go through a list of names I could call him. But that’s not very mature. My body feels like it’s whining, Where’s my climax, where’s my climax?

While getting ready and on the drive over to the city, my arousal continues to simmer. I hope, hope, hope that he’ll let me come soon.

When I arrive at The Lotus, Darren escorts me straight to our room in the club. He looks super-hot in his charcoal button-up shirt and black pants. As soon as he closes the door behind us, he pins me against the wall and sears the side of my neck with his lips. If he wasn’t holding me in place, I would have jumped all over him. I am horny as heck, given the edging.

“I want you inside of me so bad,” I murmur. I miss his kisses even more than I thought I would. I need to press myself against him. There’s so much tension inside me, waiting to burst.

He lifts his head and his eyes shine into mine. His lips curl in a half-grin. “Yeah?”

“Oh my God, please fuck me.”

He drops his grin and stares at me. I’m about to be devoured. His lips crush mine. I give a muffled cry, mostly from surprise.

“Shit,” he swears, possibly remembering my stitches—which have mostly dissolved by now—as he looks over my lip.

“It’s okay,” I tell him.

He flips me to face the wall, possibly to lessen the temptation of kissing me again. His hips press into me, and I can feel his erection.

“So you’re looking to get fucked,” he says.

“You surprised?” I return, grinding my backside against him.

“As much as I want to fuck you?”

“I don’t know. How much do you want to fuck me?”

He slams his hips into me. “Enough that I may not care if you come or not.”

“Then do it.”

In the moment, I don’t care either. My pussy needs something in it now.

He undoes my jeans and yanks them down to my knees.

“You remembered to go commando,” he notes. “Good girl.”

He caresses me between the thighs.

“Oh, yeah,” he murmurs, finding the wetness. “You want a good, hard fucking, Bridge?”

“Yes!” I reply, my impatience soaring with every second. I stick my rump out, wanting to connect with him.

He swats a buttock. “Keep your ass still.”

I hear him pull of his shirt and undo his pants. And then he’s in me swift and deep. I gasp.

“Be careful what you ask for, Bridge.”

He pins my hands to the wall and threads his fingers through mine. Without ceremony, he starts bucking, slamming into the wall.

“That hard enough for you?” he grunts near my ear.

“Yes!” I squeak. It’s a little too hard, but I’m just glad his cock is where I need it to be.

With his thrusts, he thumps me against the wall, where I imagine a permanent dent in the shape of my body will be if he keeps this up. I’m already on the tips of my toes, but his shoving takes my feet off the floor. At the moment, I don’t remember my safe word, but if I did, I don’t know if I could actually enunciate it. I start hoping he comes soon.

He slows down, drops a hand and fondles my clit. I gulp in relief. Even though it doesn’t feel great being sandwiched against the wall, I consider myself lucky that the standing position doesn’t allow as deep a penetration as some of the other positions.

“You like a good, hard fucking?” he asks.

“A little,” I admit.

“You’ve got a masochistic bone in your body after all.”

Do I? Maybe I do.

“I don’t know how much more I can take, though,” I say.

“Let’s find out.”

With his hand still at my crotch, he resumes his pounding. Now that there’s more pleasure to go with the pain, I tolerate the latter better. The combination of feeling filled by him plus his fingers against my sensitive flesh is one of my favorites.

My vagina is going to feel raw after this, but I put every effort into focusing on the pleasure over the pain. It’s a challenge when he thrusts faster and harder. My grunts turn into cries, but just when I think I’ve had enough, he lets out a roar. I feel a stream of heat inside me.

He agitates his fingers against my clit. Within a few minutes, my climax comes within reach. I didn’t think I could stand being on edge for so long, wanting to come more than anything in the world, but being pounded into oblivion was tougher.

Or maybe not.

When he withdraws his fingers, I want to scream.

“You okay?” he asks, kissing my temple.

“I’d be better after coming,” I reply.

“I know. I meant, I didn’t bang you up too badly?”

“Maybe,” I murmur. “I think I know what mashed potatoes feel like now.”

He laughs before withdrawing from me. Moisture drips onto my jeans. I keep forgetting to bring a change of clothes with me. Guys have it so much easier.

Sweeping me into his arms, Darren carries me over to a bed. After laying me down, he pushes up my sweater and the camisole beneath to kiss my belly, hips, and pelvis. The soft caress of his lips are a nice change of pace, till he murmurs, “So what did you decide? What’s coming off your list of hard limits?”