Claimed for their Pleasure by L.V. Lane
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Jessa
AS MY MOTHER and I treat Hazel’s injuries, Brandon paces restlessly in wolf form near the bedding chamber entrance. He does not like to be separated so soon after the harrowing events. I do not want to be separated either, but I take comfort in him being there.
I am exhausted, but I will not rest easy until I see Hazel has been treated.
My focus is on the wickedness done by Nola, but my heart is with Brandon as he paces by the door.
Hazel’s right foot is cut, and dirt has been ground into the wound. After bathing it, we apply a salve and carefully wrap it in a bandage.
“You should not walk until it has a chance to heal,” my mother says as she gathers the supplies before wrapping an arm around me.
“That won’t be a problem,” Jack says from the entrance to the chamber. “Our mate will be busy for the next few days while we tend to her.”
I smile. It feels like I have not smiled in a long while. Leaning in, I press a gentle kiss to Hazel’s forehead. “May the Goddess bless you with a child,” I whisper before leaving with my mother.
Brandon stops his pacing seeing me approach. The moment I near, he comes at me, nearly bowling me over. Is he… herding me?
My mother chuckles. “Ah, lass, it feels good to chuckle at his nonsense. Happen he doesn’t trust himself to shift afore he has gotten you home.”
“Home?” I cannot bear the thought of being parted from Brandon. I run my fingers through his thick coat. Goddess, he is so soft. I don’t remember ever touching him in wolf form before.
“Let him take you, lass,” she says with a wink. “Happen he knows where to go, and we will talk on the morrow.” She hugs me swiftly before letting me go.
Brandon, taking this as a queue, all but knocks me over again.
“Goddess!” I mutter. “I am coming. Show me the way.”
I don’t think wolves can understand human words, but he lets me know what he wants, nudging me out of the great hall. I follow him all the way down the lane to a part of the village I don’t visit often. Here, he comes to a stop outside a rickety gate.
I blink a few times in confusion. This is the old Bennets’ place. It looks different… like someone has been in here. The ramshackle cottage is covered in Jasmine and creeping ivy. A picket fence, weather-worn and broken in places, surrounds the property and garden.
Before I can turn and demand answers from the wolf, the air crackles behind me. Strong arms surround me, one slipping under my legs and lifting me up.
“I believe it is tradition to carry the bride over the threshold,” he says, a huge grin on his handsome face.
“Brandon! What is going on?”
Ignoring me, he pushes the gate open and carries me along the little brick path someone has cleared of weeds. At the door, he pauses. “This is our home, Jessa,” he says. “Our parents have been readying it in secret. They thought we might not want to be apart tonight and gave our blessing to have it early. I don’t want to be apart, Jessa, not for a single minute. It nearly killed me waiting while you tended to Hazel. Do you want this? Do you want to spend the night with me in the way of a husband and wife?”
My mouth opens, but no words come out. Tears spring from my eyes. Leaning up, I press a kiss to his soft, bearded cheek.
“Yes. Goddess yes.” I manage to croak the words out past the tightness in my throat. “I want that more than anything.”
With a grin, he shoulders the door open, steps through, and kicks it shut again.
Inside, it is clean and furnished with a wooden table and two mismatched chairs. The fire is cold but stocked with wood. A cloth-covered jug and bowl are resting upon the table. Sure of foot, he strides through the living area, through another open door, and into a bedroom.
Here, he gently lays me upon a bed.
A bed?
A proper bed in a bedroom and not a bedding nook!
“I can’t believe they did this in secret,” I say. “This is the most beautiful home I have seen!”
“And you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he says.
My breath catches at the seriousness in his tone. His dark, too-long hair has fallen forward over his forehead. I have watched him grow from a boy into a man and his features are familiar to me. I have seen them so many times over the years living as we do on opposite sides of the lane.
Today, I have been confronted by my own mortality.
Suddenly, I am on the verge of tears.
“Hush, lass,” he says. Settling beside me, he takes me in his arms.
I sob. It is like a dam breaking, and all the tears pour out. I have been frightened for my life, and now, I am safe again.
He holds me. And we lay like that together for the longest time. Outside the shuttered window, I can hear the distant sounds of the clan as folks go about their lives. Some will be grieving, and my heart aches for them. But the passing of their loved ones must also be rejoiced. They have died bravely and will be with the Goddess now.
My sorrow feels endless. But nothing is forever, and it loses sharpness with time. The tears slow. Under my cheek is the warm, hair-roughened skin of Brandon’s chest. He purrs, and it comforts me. I have always loved his purring, even though many women don’t. I cannot think of anything more soothing than that sweet rumbly sound against my ear.
As my awareness returns, I become conscious of the softness beneath my body—one of my mother’s best woolen blankets is adorning the bed, I’m sure. But I am also aware of Brandon. Of his hot flesh, of the heavy thud of his strong heart beating under my ear.
“Do you want something to drink?” he asks, rolling onto his back and tucking me against his side. “I don’t know what was wrong with me bringing you straight to bed like an animal. My wolf is impatient.”
“Just your wolf?” I ask, sneaking a little kiss against his chest.
“Aye, the rest of me, too,” he admits, chuckling. “I feared I might rut you before your family and the village in the king’s hall.”
Rising, I look down at him through tear-dampened lashes. “I wouldn’t care if you did. I don’t want to wait anymore, Brandon. I have been scared. But I am alive.”
My hand rests against his chest, but my gaze trails the over ridges of his firm abdominals to where his cock nestles against dark curls.
“Jessa,” he says, the word holding a warning.
But my hand moves of its own accord. He is glorious like this, naked, cock bobbing simply because I have feasted my eyes upon it.
My hand is captured before I can snag my prize, and I am tumbled onto my back.
“You are wearing too many fucking clothes,” he growls. Hands at the hem of my hide top, he tugs it up and over my head. It lands on the floor behind him even as he attacks the fastenings of my skirt. I help, both our hands getting in the way. I wriggle, and together, we push it over my hips until it follows my top and lands upon the floor.
“Don’t move,” he says, gaze roaming over my body. “Goddess, you are so beautiful.”
My breath catches, and I wonder at the hunger I see in his eyes. I am small for a Beta in every way, from my breasts to the gentle swell at my belly and hips. But I see no disappointment in Brandon’s face, only love and lust.
Gathering my hands, he places them above my head.
Holding my eyes, he says, “Keep them there, Jessa. I will lose my mind if you touch me. I am so fucking close.”
I nod, chest rising and falling unsteadily. My skin feels hot and extra sensitive as Brandon places one hand against my hip and slowly, so slowly, skims it up to cup my breast. He watches his hand, biting his lip as he squeezes, testing the weight.
I suck a sharp breath in as his thumb brushes over my nipple, sending all the nerves there springing to life.
“More,” I beg.
“When I’m ready,” he says.
I groan, wanting everything all at once. Between my thighs, slick gathers as my body prepares for him.
Catching my taut nipple between his finger and thumb, he rolls it first gently and then harder.
“Goddess, yes!”
“Is that what you want, Jessa?” he says. “Or do you want me to kiss you there?”
“Yes,” I gasp. “All of it. Kiss me there, pinch it. I don’t care. I want it all.”
His head lowers. But not to the breast he is teasing with rough tugs. No, his head lowers to the other side, where he sucks the hardened tip into his mouth.
My fingers are in his hair, grasping, pulling him closer as all the sensations hit me with the ferocity of a winter storm. I squeeze my legs together, trying to ease the ache.
With a growl, he peels my hands away and slams them back to the bed. Goddess, that sound and his handling of me sets me on fire. His mouth shifts to the other breast, the one he has teased until it is a hot kind of sore. He trails the tip of his tongue all around the peak before sucking it into his warm, wet mouth.
My hands make fists. I want to grab him closer. I want to pet all the glorious flesh of his beautiful body. But I don’t dare move lest he stop this wondrous exploration.
I am torn between obedience to his request and rebelliousness. What will he do if I disobey him? Will he spank me? Will it push him to subdue me and thrust his hard cock inside me where I am desperate for his touch?
I battle with the two sides of me as he squeezes my breasts together and teases me to the point of madness with his fingers and mouth.
“Brandon, please,” I whine. “I cannot wait. You have made me wait too many times, and I do not want to wait today.”
His head lifts, eyes crashing to meet mine. His lips are a little swollen and glisten where he has been sucking against my breasts. Shifting, he rises above me onto all fours, giving me a perfect view of his glorious rippling flesh. Lower, his thick cock juts from the dark curls. The tip glistens, and a thin trail of clear stickiness connects it to the soft swell of my stomach.
Hand lowering, he cups me intimately, warm fingers over the entrance to my pussy, the heel of his palm teasing my clit. My hips lift, seeking more of his touch.
“Please,” I say.
Slowly, too slowly, he pushes two thick fingers inside.
“Gods, you are drenched,” he says, pumping in and out with maddening slowness. As he watches my face, I wonder what I look like with my mouth open as I gasp with pleasure. “Come for me, Jessa. Come all over my fingers, then I will give you everything you need. Will rut you and claim you forever as mine.”
His thumb swipes over my clit, back and forth, each stroke lifting the pleasure, bringing the quickening to my breath until it all tumbles over into a glorious release.
I lay panting after, satisfied and yet needy for more.
There is no more waiting. I am barely recovering from the climax when the tip of his cock snags the entrance… and sinks slowly in.
“Goddess!” I gasp. It is far thicker than his fingers, silken smooth and yet deliciously hard as it slides into me.
“You feel so fucking good, Jessa,” he says, voice low and rough. “Tell me if I’m hurting you. Tell me if you need me to stop.”
“Don’t stop,” I plead. My hands find the back of his neck, pulling him closer, demanding a kiss. “All of it, Brandon. I want it all.”
Pulling almost out, he surges deep, filling me completely, driving a gasp from my lips as he breaks through my hymen. There is only a slight pinchy-sting before it flares to a heated fullness.
“Are you okay?” he asks, lips close to mine, holding himself still.
“Yes,” I gasp. “Yes, it feels so good. Full of soft, hot, hardness. A perfect kind of full.”
With a groan, his lips lower to capture mine in a feverish kiss as his hips begin to rock. It felt nice when he was deep inside me, but this is a thousand times better. Each glorious stroke flares inner nerves to life. My hands tangle in his hair, holding him close. His kisses and the sweet, heavenly sensations of his cock surging into my pussy become the center of my world. My legs wrap around him, making a cradle for his thrusting hips. I feel alive in ways I have never done before, complete, whole, full of his love and his cock.
Drawing his lips from mine, he stares down at me, his handsome face flushed. “Tell me if you need me to slow… If I’m too rough. You feel so fucking good, hot, wet… Your pussy keeps clenching… Sucking me in like it doesn’t want to let me go… I am going to lose my mind.”
“Don’t stop,” I repeat. “Don’t slow. Harder. Make it harder. I need more.”
“Fuck,” he growls. Shifting to his knees, he takes my hips in his hands and begins to rut me harder, slamming our bodies together, making the wet sounds as my pussy gushes out the slick.
“Yes!” I’m going to come again. I can feel it building. The change in position hits somewhere deep inside that melds all the sensations into a great wave that finally crashes, taking me into another glorious climax.
Nonsense pours from my lips before he slants his lips over mine, slamming his hips harder, filling me over and over. I open to the kiss, tangling my tongue with his. My body keeps rising higher while the kiss drives me deeper underwater until I am drowning in Brandon and the pleasure he wrests from me.
I let go, surrendering to the sensations, letting them take me where they will.
Where they take me is to another heart-pounding climax. This time Brandon is with me, and the pleasure is twice as wild and intense. His cock seems to grow as he thrusts deep and holds.
I feel him coming, a hot flood inside, filling me until there is nowhere for it to go, and it pulses out around his cock.
“Are you okay?” he asks on a gusty breath.
“Yes,” I say. “I have never felt so good. Why are you stopping? Can we go again?”
Chuckling, he eases out, sending a great gush of stickiness all over the beautiful bed. This rutting business is very messy, but I am too sated to care. He collapses on the bed beside me, drawing me into the crook of his arm, and purrs.
“A man needs some time between rutting,” he says. He peeks at me through a crack in his eyes. “Are you sure you’re not sore?”
I am a little sore, but I’m not telling him this in case he decides we must abstain from the next rutting, whenever that is.
“I am not sore,” I announce. “How long does it take?”
His cock is soft now, but it jerks at my words.
“Not long if you keep staring at it like you want to gobble it up,” he says dryly.
My eyes flash to meet his. I smile. On my periphery, his cock begins bobbing enthusiastically. It is still sticky, covered in his cum and mine. Now, I can’t stop thinking about how it tasted, how it made me needy. The sensation of his thick flesh sliding into my mouth, especially when it went deeply, all the way to the back of my throat, was sublime.
He curses as I scramble to my knees.
“Jessa,” he warns.
I have heard that warning voice before, and I am not scared of it. His cock is hard and ruddy-looking. He likes it when I take it into my mouth. He likes the thought of me doing it now.
My smirk is ripe with naughtiness as I grasp his length at the base, tilting it as I lower my lips to kiss the crown.
We both groan as I lap at the sticky tip. It pulses under my hand and tongue, getting harder, growing with every swipe of my tongue.
“Gods!” he says as I suck half of it into my mouth until it hits the back of my throat and surges a little way inside. That I can weaken this man with pleasure, enthralls and empowers me to drive him wilder still.
“Fuck!” he growls. Grasping a handful of my hair, he pulls me off and tips me onto my back. There is no tentativeness this time. This time, he lines his cock and surges deep.
I gasp, he feels harder, or perhaps I am sensitive after the vigorous first rutting.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks. Capturing my chin in his hand, he tips my face toward his.
I shake my head.
“Jessa?”
The warning is back. It stung a small amount, and I think I might have winced. He is not moving, but at least he has not pulled out. I wrap my arms and legs around him just to be sure.
“It only stung a little,” I say.
“I think you need to rest,” he says. “Your mother, in all her wisdom, is bound to have left some oils as might ease the soreness.”
My pussy grips, and my arms and legs tighten when he tries to pull out.
“Don’t,” I beg. “It was only a little sore when you first pushed in. It does not even hurt now.”
“I don’t fucking believe you,” he says on a groan. “But your clenching pussy is a test. I will go slowly if you promise to tell me if you need me to stop.”
“Okay,” I agree. I dare not tell him that I like the soreness in the same way I like the sting when he spanks my bottom. Goddess, thinking about him spanking me while his hard length is inside me, deep and so intimate, is enough to make me… I come. It sideswipes me out of nowhere.
His lips crash over mine in a hungry kiss that makes the pleasure twist higher still. His hips begin to move, his hot flesh surging in over and over.
He purr-growls as he ruts me with agonizing gentleness. My body is in a state of euphoria. His lips, his hands, his hot male flesh, his growly sounds of pleasure, they belong to me and me alone. I sink into the sensations and into him. I feel his love wrap around me. I sense his devotion and caring with every tempered stroke. He is a strong male capable of rutting me harder and being rougher, but he puts my newness above his own pleasure.
I wish he wouldn’t. But I love him all the deeper that he does.
The next climax takes us both, dizzying, blissful. It sweeps my whole body up. Deep inside, he fills me again.
Tears spring from my eyes, and he presses kisses to my cheeks, begging me to tell him what is wrong.
“Nothing,” I say, fighting to stop the torrent, for I know I am upsetting him. “I am so Goddess-blessed to be here with you, Brandon. I’m just overwhelmed with joy and love.”
“I too, Jessa,” he says. “I have been through hell this last night and day since I found out you were taken. The thought of losing you, too painful to bear. You disarm me with your ways, both the lusty ones that make my cock hard and the sweet loving ones that care deeply for those lucky enough to have you within their circle. The man in me wants to wed you before our village and family. But the wolf in me has already claimed you as a mate.”
Nestling his face into the crook of my shoulder, he presses a kiss. “Right here, I will mark you. Not today, but soon.” Lifting his head, he meets my eyes. “If it fades, I shall mark you again. You are mine, Jessa. My wolf has claimed you. I have claimed you. Until the Goddess takes one of us into the afterworld, you are mine.”
