Claimed Darker by Em Brown

Chapter 5

By her quizzical look, he gathered she didn’t understand the command.

“Remove the dress,” he elucidated.

She stood with her lower lip hanging down, tempting him. He couldn’t tell if it was dismay or timidity that stalled her. He was about to inform her that any further delay would incur a punishment, but he didn’t want to come on too strongly. Though he shouldn’t give a fuck. Like with the vodka. Normally he wouldn’t allow a submissive to have more than one drink, especially one who didn’t weigh much and hadn’t eaten much. But gold diggers deserved whatever hell they made for themselves.

Still, he found he couldn’t completely ignore her vulnerability. Which upset him.

“The dress?” she echoed. “Out here?”

“Yes,” he replied simply, though he had contemplated offering to rip the dress off her if she didn’t take it off herself. When she didn’t budge, he added, “I want to see all of you.”

She lowered her gaze in thought. Tentatively, she reached behind her back for the zipper. Heat stirred within him as she finally reached to peel the dress down her shoulders. He watched with patience as she paused before gingerly pulling the dress down past her bra. If she wanted to extend the length of her own discomfort, she could take as long as she wanted as far as he was concerned.

The dress continued its descent down her body, slowly exposing her midriff, her hips, her thighs, before finally settling to the floor.

Her chest heaved with uneven breaths. He ran his gaze over every inch of exposed skin. She was rather pale, but that was no surprise. Her white bra and panties were nothing like the fancy lingerie he was accustomed to seeing. Hers were almost adolescent-girl-like in their simplicity. But she looked plenty sexy in them.

He circled her. Her breasts had a nice swell, and she had a decent-sized arse. A little fuller backside would have been better, but women were always beautiful in their nakedness.

He liked what he saw.

He could just take her now. Throw her up against the wall and ravish her without any foreplay. Bend her over the balcony railing and show any passersby what a gold-digging slut she was.

Instead, he brushed her soft brown hair over her shoulders. Her breath quivered.

Noticing a scar above her left hip, he fingered the inch of coarser skin.

"What is this from?"

She hesitated. "I fell down the stairs when I was little."

He trailed his fingers over her abdomen and traced her belly button. "How long has it been since you’ve had sex?"

"Two, maybe three years."

Damn. She might be as tight as a virgin then.

Leaving his hand on her belly, he stood behind her and pulled her to him. She gave a small gasp. He tucked his fingers slightly into her panties, just below the waistband but not much farther.

"How do you like your sex?" he asked.

She didn't answer for a while. "I do not know."

"You don't know? Have you not had much sex?"

"What quantity is ‘much’?"

Maybe she was younger than he’d thought. Or prudish. Though that outfit she wore in the photo Peter had was on the slutty side. Maybe she just didn't have a lot of experience with sex or her number of partners was limited.

"How old are you?"

She seemed surprised, and he realized Peter would probably have known the answer.

"Twenty-three," she answered.

That was a relief. He wouldn't have continued if she was nineteen or younger.

He gently wound his free hand into her hair as his other hand slid lower. He inhaled her scent once more, glad he didn't pick up on any cat smell. He pulled her head to the side, stretching her beautiful swanlike neck. He pressed his lips against her.

Her body tensed and melted against him at the same time. If he were a vampire, he'd go to town on her delectable neck.

"Are you certain you don't know what you like?"

"No. Yes. I do not know," she reiterated.

"You don't know if you like your sex soft and sweet or hard and rough?"

He kissed his way up the side of her neck to her ear.

"Soft and sweet."

Too bad for her. If she weren't a gold digger, he would accommodate her preferences.

"We should go inside," she said softly upon hearing voices below.

The hotel gardens did not extend to the side of the building, were the balcony was, but there was a path that wound from the back of the hotel to the front.

"Not an exhibitionist?" he asked, nudging her ear with his nose. Damn, she smelled good. Though he couldn't describe her actual scent, the blood in his loins churned stronger the more he inhaled.

"No," she confirmed.

Again, too bad. He fit his entire hand in her panties, reaching for her pubis.

She stiffened. "Inside. Please."

Ignoring her plea, he dipped his fingers lower as he asked, “How do you like to come?"

She knit her brows. "Come?"

The voices below grew louder, and she started to wriggle. He tightened his hold on her hair, and she instinctively stopped. She might make a good submissive.

"Don't tell me you've never come during sex," he said, even though he knew many women faked orgasms.

"Maybe. I'm uncertain…"

Uncertain? With him, she would know for damn sure.

"How do you make yourself come?"

"Myself?"

He moved his fingers through her pubic hair and down to her folds. "You masturbate, don't you?"

"Sometimes."

She gasped when he found her clit.

"So you touch yourself."

She whimpered.

He stroked lightly. "Right here?"

"Da," she answered.

He fondled her till her clit swelled. The vodka had worked its way into her system, dissolving her earlier resistance. His own arousal pressed hard against his pants. He slid his fingers lower and found her wet. The discovery made his head swim.

He thought again about taking her, without regard to her pleasure. He wondered if Peter would've gotten this far with her. It was Peter she purported to be in love with, but it wasn't Peter she was currently damp for. Technically, she was cheating on Peter. And though she didn’t know that the man touching her wasn’t Peter, Chen still felt perturbed on his friend’s behalf.

Just fuck her. Use her the way she intends to use Peter.

He was about to do just that—but then he heard her moan, saw her eyelashes flutter and her cheeks blush with arousal.

He wanted to see how she climaxed. Some women experienced small eruptions, others screamed bloody murder. What would Alena be like?

His fingers, now slick with her moisture, glided easily over her clit. He found a spot that made her legs quake. Her arse inadvertently bumped into his crotch. Desire roared in his body, but he kept it at bay long enough for him to send her over the edge.

Despite her concern about being seen by anyone, she cried out—quite loudly. He knew that the sources of the earlier voices were no longer within earshot, having heard the people round the corner, but he doubted she knew that. She trembled forcefully against him, and he thought his hard-on might slice through his pants. He held her through her spasms, till, with a long exhale, she slumped against him.

Sweeping her up into his arms, he carried her inside and tossed her onto the bed.

It was his turn now.

No more Mr. Nice Guy.

BOUND TO HIM – NEXT EPISODE