Claimed Darker by Em Brown

Chapter 30

BRIDGET

Past

“Iwish JD would let me stay over and take care of him,” Amy sighs through the phone.

I have her on speaker while I look through Darren’s kitchen, the nicest kitchen I’ve ever stepped foot in, to see what I can whip up for breakfast. I’m impressed with the kitchen, but at the same time, I’m practical like my grandmother and Aunt Coretta. As long as they had the basics—fire, a working stove, pots and pans—they wouldn’t feel the need for anything more. Food doesn’t need a fancy kitchen to taste good.

“I mean, I offered several times, but he got irritated with me,” Amy continues. “We haven’t talked in over twenty-four hours.”

“He seems like the kind of guy who needs his space,” I say, “maybe more so after what happened.”

“Maybe he’s depressed? I’m depressed. I can’t focus on anything. I can’t sleep. And I have these moments of panic when I step outside the apartment.”

“I get nervous anytime I hear an unexpected noise. The doctor at the hospital said we should probably talk to a counselor or therapist over at student health.”

“Do you think they’d be able to prescribe something for the anxiety?”

“Probably. After an evaluation.”

“Okay. But I don’t want to go alone.”

“I’ll go, too.”

“My mom’s flying up. Even though I told her not to at first, I’m glad she’s going to be here.”

I’m glad, too, for Amy’s sake. I offer to set up an appointment for the both of us. After hanging up, I text Simone and Kat to have them check in on Amy.

Hearing noise from Darren’s room, I peek my head in to see if he’s awake. I find him sitting up in bed.

“Morning,” I greet, going over to him.

Even all bandaged up, he looks super-hot whenever he’s shirtless. The top half of his pajamas is what I wore to bed.

“What would you like for breakfast?” I ask.

He smiles at me. “You.”

That’s when I notice his morning wood tenting his pajama pants.

I climb onto bed. He pulls me over his lap, which I straddle before cupping his face with both hands and brushing my lips over his. He grasps the back of my neck and brings my mouth down harder. Arousal surges through my body as our tongues entwine and I feel his erection pressing against me.

Every kiss is a show of my gratitude, my desire and my affection for this man. I never thought I could have such strong feelings in so short a time.

When he finally pulls me away, I don’t want to part my lips from him. Already moist from the kissing, I’ve made a wet spot on his pants where I’ve ground myself against his cock.

“Take the shirt off and get that clit nice and swollen,” he commands.

I pull the shirt over my head. He groans as he squeezes one of my breasts. I sit back and start caressing my clit. He watches with obvious hunger, his cock bobbing a few times.

“I want you to get something out of the bedside drawer,” he says.

I reach over to the drawer and open it.

“The velvet box,” he instructs.

Retrieving it, I sit back up.

“Open it,” he tells me.

Inside the box are three pairs of silver half spheres kind of like earring studs.

“What are these?” I ask

“Magnets. Put them on.”

“Where?”

“One each for the nipples and one for your clit.”

My eyes widen. Without word, I pry apart a pair of magnets and bring them to my hardened nipples.

“Is this going to hurt?” I ask.

“A little.”

I hold the half spheres on either side of a nipple, which tingles in anticipation. I cry out when one of the half spheres slips from my fingers, which are damp from touching myself below, and latches onto my nipple.

“It’s more painful when you apply them to the tips of your nipples,” Darren explains.

“I know that now,” I grumble, adjusting the magnets toward the areola.

“Breathe,” he reminds me when I’ve attached all three pairs.

I draw in a deliberate breath. “You ever have magnets pinching your nipples?”

“I’ve tried them before, yes.”

His eyes are bright with desire as his gaze traverses my body. My focus is entirely on the three points of pressure.

“Now fuck yourself,” he says next, spreading his legs so I can lie down comfortably between.

I’ve never actually put anything, even my own fingers, into my vagina. Except for tampons. When I masturbate, it’s all about the clit. I wonder if Darren somehow knows that and that’s why he’s asking me to do this. Or maybe he just wants a show.

Parting my thighs, I slowly sink two fingers inside myself. After the initial awkwardness and slight discomfort, I find a better angle and start to enjoy the sensations. For some reason, it feels so much better when Darren finger fucks me. Maybe because he has more experience doing it.

His eyes are molten with desire, and that turns me on more than anything. Getting into it, I start to moan.

He grins. “Oh yeah. I love the look of your pussy. You know it belongs to me, right?”

I gasp when I touch a good spot.

He takes out his cock and strokes himself. “Right, Bridget?”

“Yes,” I reply.

“What am I right about?”

“That my pussy belongs to you.”

“Good. Now come sit on my cock.”

He helps pull me up, and I settle onto his shaft. His velvet hardness feels so good inside of me, so much better than my own fingers. I wrap my arms around his neck as he grabs my hips and grinds me atop him. We lock lips. As the craving for release intensifies, I smother his mouth with mine. It’s crazy how much my body wants this. It’s heady, thrilling, and even nerve-wracking. It’s like I’m addicted to Darren. No matter how much sex we have, I want more.

And it’s more than sex now. It started out with mostly a physical attraction, but I want to be with him. All the time.

I’m close to my climax. He reaches between our groins and separates the magnets at my clit. Blood rushes there. He fondles the nub, and I’m catapulted into my orgasm, shaking so much I almost buck off his cock. He hammers his hips at me with maddening speed until he reaches his climax, filling me with his liquid heat.

I brush away the hair that has fallen over my face. He wraps his right hand around the back of my neck and crushes my lips to his. Nothing could taste better. Maybe it’s because I had a near brush with death, but everything about Darren, everything I do with him, is so much sweeter. It’s more meaningful. And I can’t imagine being anywhere else but with him.