Claimed Darker by Em Brown

Chapter 33

DARREN

Past

“You finish your homework assignment?” I ask from the kitchen when Bridget’s back.

She drops her backpack near the sofa and looks at me quizzically.

“The one I gave you last night,” I remind her.

“That one,” she acknowledges. “I know I prefer the tawse. And what were the other choices?”

“Cage, stocks or pommel.”

I’ve been looking forward to getting her back into the club all day. Thinking about it has helped limit the amount of time I spend thinking about Manny. Like Marshall said, it had to be done. I owe JD for it, though he was probably happy to pull the trigger. He also did Tran. Today, Travis and Marshall found the gunman, a PSB member, and took care of him. No one messes with the Jing San and gets away with it.

“What are the pros and cons of these options?” Bridget asks.

“Just choose one,” I say as I walk over to her. “This isn’t some quiz. There’s no right or wrong answer.”

“There could be.”

“I can always choose for you.”

“No! Um…pommel.”

“The pommel and tawse are a very good pairing.”

She raises a brow. “So I take it your hangover’s gone?”

I grin. “Just in time for you, Bridge.”

“What about your arm and shoulder? Are you sure you’re up for this level of activity? The doctor said you’re supposed to take it easy.”

“One working arm is all I need. So let’s get you naked and down to the club.”

She balks. “I’m not walking through the club naked.”

“It’s closed. No one’s there.”

Marshall did have either himself or one of the other security team members doing guard duty downstairs, but since all the parties responsible for the shooting have been disposed of, I insisted he give himself the night off.

“What if Cheryl decides to come in?” Bridget asks.

“I told you the club’s closed.”

“What if she left something in the office and came back to retrieve it?”

“The longer you delay, the harder the tawse falls.”

She wrinkles her nose. “If there is someone, then…”

“Then what?”

She falters. “Then…then we’re done for the night. I’ll be too embarrassed to do anything.”

I cup her jaw and lift her chin. “You’re cute when you think you have a choice in the matter.”

She scowls at me. “I’ll humor you this time because you might have saved my life.”

“Did I?” I murmur atop her lips.

“You didn’t push me out of the way? Your body was covering mine while shots went off.”

“What if it wasn’t intentional?” I ask between kisses before trailing my mouth to her neck.

“Then I guess I don’t owe you. I shouldn’t have to humor you.”

She smells good. Her skin feels good beneath my lips.

“Saving your life doesn’t count unless I did it deliberately?” I ask, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her into me.

“Intentions matter.”

“So if you did owe me, shouldn’t you do more than agree to walk through my club naked?”

“I’ll bake you a pie.”

“And?”

“And give you as many blow jobs as you want.”

Not a bad offer. But I want more. I grind my hips into her.

She rubs the front of my lounge pants. “You could have one right now if you wanted.”

Maybe she thinks if she gets me to come here, I won’t be as interested in taking her down to the club.

She’s wrong, of course.

“All right,” I accept.

She drops to her knees and pulls down my pants. My cock springs toward her. She wraps a warm hand around the shaft and licks my tip. I grunt as her tongue passes over my piss hole. After teasing me with licks and kisses, she envelopes me with her mouth. Gradually, she sinks farther down my length. I really should make her blow me more often. She comes back up, and takes more of me on the way down. As she comes up, she drags her tongue along the underside. I shiver.

Sliding my fingers through her hair, I push her down, challenging her to take more of me. One of these days, I’m going all the way. She’s trainable, and I get the feeling anything is possible for her.

Closing my eyes, I savor the feel of her tongue as she drags it along my shaft and against the flare of the crown. I could come easily. And why not? Why not show her what she does to me? And how much I like taking her mouth, how heavenly she feels on my cock? I let her set her own pace and depth as I focus on the urgency swirling in my balls and pulsing through my cock. It feels so fucking good. So fucking good.

With a grunt, I release myself into her mouth. My legs quiver as she sucks every last drop off me. I pull her up and smother her lips with mine, tasting myself in her mouth. She kisses me back just as hard.

“That was good head,” I say when we part lips.

She gives me an impish grin. “Glad you liked it.”

“Now let’s get you naked.”

I pull off her sweatshirt and the long-sleeve top beneath it. Next to go are her shoes, socks, and jeans. I miss having the full range of motion in my left arm, but despite her reluctance to go naked through my club, Bridget lends a hand in removing her clothes.

When she’s standing in only her bra and panties, I tell her to take care of the rest while I step into the bedroom to grab the hands-free remote-controlled clit vibrator, a red lace thong and the high-heeled shoes I had her wear once before.

I take in the sight of her now naked body. I never pigeonholed myself as an ass, tits or legs man. With Kimberly, I had fun playing with her oversized melons. With Bridget, I’m leaning towards being an ass guy. Maybe because she takes a spanking so well.

I kneel down behind her and slip my hand between her thighs to see how wet she is. Grasping a buttock, I lick, kiss and bite the succulent flesh.

She eyes the thong and heels I’ve set down on the floor. “Do I really have to wear those?”

“I’m assuming that’s a rhetorical question,” I reply as I slide the clit vibrator into place. Next, I have her step into the red lace thong.

“It feels like I have a wedgie,” she remarks.

“Be grateful it’s not a crotch rope with knots for your clit, cunt and asshole.”

The thought seems to silence further complaint. She puts the heels on next.

I walk around her, surveying the awesome sight. The heels make her butt protrude, and the triangle of lace between the swell of her buttocks makes for the perfect accent

I rub my chin. “Needs one more thing.”

I go back into the bedroom and return with a collar and leash.

Her face falls. “Really?”

I clasp the collar around her neck.

“If anyone sees me like this—” she starts.

I smack her sharply over a breast. “Don’t threaten your master or I’ll make you crawl on all fours down to the club.”

With her feminist leaning, she probably finds pet play degrading. Olga loved it. She liked pairing a collar and leash with a fluffy tail plugged into her ass.

“It’s not fair that you get to make all the threats,” Bridget remarks.

“It was your idea to stay over.”

“I guess no good deed goes unpunished.”

“You just learning that?”

She scowls at me. She has no idea how naïve she is. A part of me wants her to stay that way, to never have to make the choices I’ve had to, like agreeing to the murder of an old friend.

“Let’s go,” I say, wanting a change of scenery before my thoughts go further in that direction. Taking the leash, I walk her out into the hallway and to the elevator.

“Are you sure no one’s going to be downstairs?” she asks when we step in.

“I can’t guarantee it,” I answer. “There’s a small chance Cheryl or Marshall may come in. Or maybe someone in the kitchen will want to do some prep ahead of the club’s opening tomorrow.”

She frowns. To take her mind off the prospect, I take the remote to the vibrator and turn it on. She gasps, then groans.

She stumbles out of the elevator either because of the vibrator or the platform heels or both. We walk through the club to the BDSM side. She lucks out. We don’t come across anyone. I imagine walking Bridget through the club when it’s packed with patrons. Maybe I’ll do that if she ever misbehaves big time.

The pommel is located in an austere room with other, more intimidating furnishings, like grappling hooks for suspension bondage, cages of different shapes and sizes, a chair with spikes, stocks, and a wooden horse.

“You use all…this?” she asks, eying everything with some trepidation.

“I have.”

I walk her over to the pommel and bend her over it. To secure her in place, I lock her wrists and ankles to shackles anchored to the platform below. I turn the vibrator up a notch before getting the tawse.

“Ooooh, can I come?” she asks.

“Not yet.”

I warm up her ass with kisses, groping and light slaps of the tawse.

“Remember the safe word?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Then let’s begin the fun.”

I slap the tawse against a buttock. She jumps but doesn’t complain. That vibrator’s going good against her clit. I land the tawse harder.

“Ooof!” she gasps.

I spank her several more times, then turn the vibrator up again.

“Can I come?” she asks.

“No.”

The tawse makes a loud smack every time it connects with her backside. She starts to pull and shake at her chains. I deliver a dozen more blows till her ass is blushing nicely.

She lifts her head, trying to look back at me. “How much longer are we doing this?”

“Pick a number between zero and thirty. If it’s higher than the number I’m thinking of, that’s how many spanks you get. If it’s lower, we double the higher of the two numbers.”

“Seriously?!”

“Make it all the way and you get to come. Just don’t forget to thank me for letting you orgasm.”

She huffs. “Zero and thirty?”

“Zero and thirty.”

She thinks for several beats before replying, “Thirty.”

“Thirty it is.”

“Is that the number you were thinking of?”

“No. My number was fourteen.”

She groans.

“Why don’t you keep count so we don’t lose track and have to start all over,” I say.

Standing behind her, I can’t see her face, but I’m guessing she looks ready to kill me.

“Here we go,” I say before landing the tawse on one ass cheek.

“One,” she mumbles.

I spank her with the tawse until we reach the count of ten. While giving her a respite, I adjust my hardened cock. I caress a buttock. She flinches.

“Your ass looks so pretty right now,” I remark of the pink stripes all blurred together.

I deliver nine more lashes. The chains jangle throughout as her body jerks with the blows.

“Shit…ung…” she grunts after the twentieth one.

“More than halfway there,” I tell her and increase the setting on the vibrator.

“Oh…God…can I come?”

I bring the setting back down. “When we’re done.”

Whap!

I start on the final set of blows. Her ass is bright red, but there’s no evidence of bruising yet. I once had a sub who bruised like clockwork around a dozen strikes. She liked showing off her bruises.

“Twenty-six!” Bridget cries after I whip the tawse extra hard.

“Twenty-five,” I correct. “We’re doing that one over since you got it wrong.”

I spank her right across both cheeks. She cries out and hangs her head.

“Twenty-five,” she murmurs and tries to lift her head up, probably tired from the blood draining to her head. I shouldn’t keep her upside down much longer.

I finish up the final five, then turn the vibrator back up.

“You did good, Bridge. You can come now.”

Two minutes later, her orgasm erupts. Her body bucks and strains against the pommel. I want to sink myself into her so badly, but I’m waiting for my thank you.

And it doesn’t come.

Which means we’re not done with the spanking.