Claimed for their Pleasure by L.V. Lane
CHAPTER TEN
Jessa
WHEN BRANDON COMES to collect me the following evening, I am waiting to answer the door.
My father mutters about unworthy whelps.
My mother wishes me a good time.
Bounding down the steps, I throw my arms around his neck, and on my tiptoes, plant a kiss upon his lips. I badly want to pet his short beard that tickles my face.
A broad smile lights his face. As his hands settle on my waist, my tummy flutters with anticipation. “That was quite a welcome,” he says, eyes lowering to my lips. “But I think I can do better.”
There is a wicked glint in his eyes as his lips lower to mine.
My heart rate quickens as we kiss. His familiar scent invades my nose as I sink into him and the kiss. A rushing heat sweeps through me as his tongue tangles with mine. Deep inside, I feel the sweet tickling sensation as my body prepares for what it wants and needs.
As his head lifts, my lashes flutter open.
“I’m not sure that was better,” I say, peeping at him through the slits of my eyes. “You might want to try it again.”
He chuckles. Taking my hand in his, he begins to walk, giving a little tug when I remain rooted to the spot.
“Where are we going?” I ask as we make our way down the lane. “To the rutting barn?”
His head whips around to face me. “The what? What the fuck, Jessa.”
I chuckle. “What do you call it then?”
This is fun, both the kissing and shocking of Brandon. Happen he will be more shocked soon when he finds out what I have done.
If he finds out what I have done.
I’m certainly hoping things will progress enough so that he will. I could barely sleep last night thinking about kissing and all things rutting. I made myself come twice, and I still wanted more. But I wanted more with Brandon and not by myself.
“It is just the old barn, and we are not going there,” he says, giving me a stern glare that only makes me grin. “But we will find a quieter spot by the river where we can talk.”
“Brandon,” I say, waiting until he glances my way. “I don’t want to talk.”
“Aye, I’m getting the idea that you are an insatiable lass.”
“I really am,” I agree. Brandon is only holding my hand and already my body thrums. Maybe tonight I will not need to make myself come.
“And bolder than I was expecting,” he continues with a smirk.
“My mother told me long ago that it is natural for a lass to have such thoughts, and that I was not to be ashamed. She also said that if I did not, that was all right too.”
“Well, your mother talks sense,” he agrees.
As we near the small path to the wood, we take the left-hand track. Part of me feels I should be aggrieved that Brandon knows these quiet places because he went there with other lasses. But I don’t. I am glad he knows where to go and how to kiss. And I’m sure he knows about the other stuff that I have yet to experience.
“She also said it was natural for a lass to kiss a lad and… and other things if she wished to and if it felt natural and right to her. As long as she wasn’t doing it because she felt pressured to please the boy.”
“Jessa,” he says softly, like it is a warning… like he might be in pain.
He comes to a stop by a giant oak tree with a view of the riverbank. It is peaceful, and the evening air, warm. He sits, tugging me down beside him.
“Brandon?” He looks a little flushed and stares at the river like he is terrified to look at me.
He glances across and groans a little when he notices my smirk. “You are going to fucking test me this evening. I can see the mischief in your eyes.”
“I do not want to sit beside you.” Rising to my knees, I nimbly slip over his lap so that I am straddling his muscular thighs, and our faces are inches apart. “I would rather sit here.”
His hands settle on my waist. Mine settle on his shoulders. Eyes lowering, he gently squeezes as if testing how it feels. “I’d rather you sit here, too.”
“I have never wanted to kiss or touch anyone,” I say. “I thought perhaps I never would. But things have changed of late, and I do want to.” My voice lowers to a whisper. “Sometimes, when I lie in bed, and everyone else is asleep, I touch myself and imagine it is you.”
He groans again, and I wonder if he is getting hard? I can still remember how his cock looked as he strode toward me the day wolves trapped me in the forest.
Leaning forward, I brush my lips over his rough beard on his left cheek, skimming them back and forth and delighting in the tingly feeling. “I want the kisses and the other stuff,” I whisper close to his ear before pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.
As I lean up, our eyes meet and hold.
He nods.
His hands glide down my thighs, his eyes lowering to watch them pass over the stretched material of my hide skirt until they meet my skin.
I watch, too, mesmerized by his broad, tanned hands against my paler skin. They feel warm and a little roughened. My cheeks heat. I begin to worry that I have been too bold. But then his hands slip under the hem of my skirt and skim upward. I am so thrilled to have his hands on me that I scarcely can breathe.
“Is this the other stuff that you want, Jessa?” he asks. His voice low and growly, and it makes the wetness gather between my thighs.
“Yes,” I say, tearing my gaze away to find he is once more watching me… watching my reaction. “Goddess, yes, this is exactly what I want.”
Then his big broad hands are cupping my ass.
He stills.
I bite my bottom lip. Oops!
“Jessa, where the fuck are your panties?” His hands move again, gliding all over my ass in a most arresting way as he verifies what he suspects—that I am not wearing any panties.
“They are always getting wet,” I say, breathless now.
“Fuck!” he mutters gruffly. His fingers squeeze the flesh of my ass. “That was very naughty, Jessa. Happen this might be one of those punishment times we spoke of.”
“What punishment?” I ask. It comes out a little whiny as I think about how it felt when he put me over his lap and spanked me. It stung a great deal, but it also felt a squirmy kind of good. I very much did not like the stinging pain, but I did like being mastered, being put over his lap, and held helpless for whatever he might decide to do.
“I do not mind the spanking so much, is what you said, Jessa,” he reminds me before stealing a swift kiss. “We will need to try it again to be sure, you added.”
Tugging up the back of my skirt, his big hand lands against my ass cheek with a crack.
“Goddess!” I gasp. It stings only a little. It was more of a shock. Between my thighs, I can feel my slickness. Perhaps taking my panties off was a bad idea? I now fear I may embarrass myself.
His hand lifts and falls again with another sharp crack.
I groan. Oh, I like this very much. Not painful, more a light sting that warms my bottom and makes my pussy clench.
“I can smell your arousal,” he growls before sneaking another kiss.
Spank.
“Tell me you like it, Jessa, or tell me to stop.”
“Goddess! I like it.”
Spank.
“You’ve been a very naughty girl, Jessa,” he continues. His palm lands against the other cheek, and I gasp at the new stimulation. “Leaving your home without your panties on.” He begins to spank a little firmer, alternating between each side, and the heat begins to grow. “Good girls wear panties. Bad girls get their naughty bottom spanked until they repent.”
“Oh! I am very much not sorry!”
I swear here and now that I shall never wear my panties again if he puts his hands upon me like this. Only I’m growing restless, and I want and need more.
Then I feel it, a gush as the wetness trickles down my inner thigh. I clamp my hand there lest it spill out.
He stops. He is breathing heavily. We are both breathing heavily.
“Jessa, take your hand away this instant, or I will spank your bottom in the sharp way you do not like.”
I shake my head, cheeks as hot and flushed as my bottom. “I can’t,” I whisper. “It is going to make a mess.”
“Let it make a mess. I don’t give a fuck. Now, move your hand away.”
I have only heard his stern voice a few times. My pussy clenches, and more wetness escapes. Slowly, I pull my fingers away.
He catches my wrist, and I watch with numb compliance as he lifts my hand to inspect the glistening stickiness coating my fingers. Eyes locked with mine, he brings my fingers to his lips… and licks them clean.
My chest saws unsteadily, and my pussy gushes like it wants to give him more. Eyes closed, he purr-growls with pleasure as he laps up all the mess.
When he opens them again, I can barely see through the haze of lust.
“Do you want me to make you feel good?”
“Yes,” I say. “Please, yes. Make me feel good. Please, touch me there, like you did with that lass. Please, kiss me. Please, do all of the things.”
He growls. Tipping me onto my back, he braces over me. “Do not mention that lass again. I do not care about that lass. I only want to think about you—about pleasuring you.”
I nod.
“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he says, lips lowering to my throat where he presses kisses and sucks gently upon the flesh. “But first, I’m going to need to clean up all the mess you have made. I’m going to need to lick up all the slick that is weeping from your pussy. Every little bit of it. And you are going to lay there like a good girl while I do it.”
I groan, my fingers clasping his silken hair.
“You will be good and still, and you will not come until I’m ready. If you come, I will need to punish you again.”
I am near insensible. I think I might come without Brandon touching me at all. His lips trail lower, over my collarbone, exploring the limits of my clothing before rising once more. Palming my cheek within one strong hand, he kisses me. A deep, lusty kiss with tongues and teeth nipping against my lips. I sink into it, elated by the awakening sensations that are a thousand times more glorious than anything I imagined.
Our breath mingles. I want to meld with him, to tumble into this kiss and into him, to press against him until our flesh becomes one.
His lips tear from mine. He moves lower, kissing my throat, sucking the flesh into his mouth as his hand slides under the waist of my hide top. Big, warm hand skimming over flesh until he cups my right breast.
“Goddess, please,” I whimper, pushing my breasts into his hand. Then his thumb brushes across the stiff peak of my nipple, and I groan.
His lips return to capture mine in a drugging kiss as he brushes his thumb back and forth, lifting the urgency within me, making me restless and impatient.
An unearthly wildness invades me. I want everything, and I want it now.
His mouth wrenches from mine. Fingers shaking with impatience, he tugs my top up and encloses my nipple and a good portion of my breast in the hot wetness of his mouth.
“Goddess!” The air leaves my lungs. I feel a thread of hot need pulse between my nipple and my clit. Hot waves of pleasure pulse and pulse. The urgency builds. I think I might come…
His head lifts abruptly, and he stares at me, chest heaving, eyes near black in an echo of the lust I feel coursing through me. “Lay very still for me,” he says. “And do not fucking come.”
My skirt is already rucked up, but he pushes it higher, exposing me to his lustful gaze. His lips twist in a wicked smirk as he stares at what he has exposed. “What a naughty, wet little pussy.”
His smile drops as his eyes rise to meet mine. “You are so fucking beautiful, Jessa,” he says. “Here, like this, in your sweet awakening. You are the most beautiful thing in the world.”
My breath catches in my lungs. The place deep inside that belongs to Brandon blossoms to life, growing into a great warm sphere that encompasses us both.
He shifts, moving back, sinking lower, lips pressing to my inner knee. He works upward, gentle kisses that take him closer and closer to the place where I ache.
My fingers sink into the springy forest floor as he begins to lap. Groaning and growling, he does exactly as he promised. Carefully, he cleans all the sticky mess, one searing lick at a time, moving ever closer to my drenched pussy.
“Lay very still,” he warns when I grow even more restless. Then he licks the length of my pussy slit.
“Goddess!” It sets a thousand nerves rushing to life. Sweet, wondrous sensations consume me as he laps gently over the swollen folds of my pussy. His fingers enclose my thighs, holding me open, spreading me wider so he might have full access. My hips want to lift. I want more of what he is doing. I want faster and deeper.
I want to come.
I want to come more than I want to breathe.
“Don’t come,” he growls against my pussy.
I sob. I beg.
He changes, no longer licking and lapping. No, now he is kissing me there. Lips, tongue, and the gentle nip of his teeth. Growling, he feasts upon me.
My breathing turns to gasped pants. The coil is tightening, pulling me in closer and closer. I try to wriggle away. “Goddess, I’m going to come. I can’t stop it.”
“Come for me,” he growls. A hand slides under my top to grasp my nipple. He tugs and twists it hard just as his lips enclose my engorged clit, and he sucks.
I come. Groaning, my head tips back as the sweet rhythmic pleasure crashes through me.
He laps gently at my clit until it is too sensitive, and I push him away.
Lifting his head, he smirks at me. “You have made another mess, Jessa. Looks like I’m going to have to start all over again.”
And Goddess help me, he does.