His to Claim

by Sierra Cartwright

  “One of the features I decided on by myself. The gray cabinets, the backsplash, that’s all the designer.”

  “She did a nice job.” Hannah glanced at the pot filler and the six-burner stove. “Do you cook?”

  “No.”

  So all this was lost on him.

  “It’s great for entertaining.”

  “Do you do a lot of that?”

  “I’ve hosted a couple of events here, including Getting Hammered.”

  She frowned. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a preservation fundraising event. Every month, we meet at a house that’s being restored. We have beer and—”

  “I get it.” She grinned. “Hammers and hammered. Play on words.”

  “You’re fast.” He tipped a mock hat in her direction. “Would you like to see the house so you can be comfortable?”

  “Every inch.”

  “There’s a lot of them.”

  Did she ever have to leave?

  “Let’s start at the front door, so you can appreciate the whole thing.”

  The attention to detail was jaw-dropping, from ceiling medallions to polished wood floors.

  A gorgeous fireplace dominated the foyer.

  “It’s original, but no longer operational, unfortunately. At one time it provided heat for the entire house.”

  “The mantelpiece is breathtaking.”

  “The home was built for the Manvilles as a wedding gift from the groom’s father. They enjoyed traveling around the world, and Mrs. Manville had it sent over from Italy when she was on vacation.”

  Hannah set her purse on the table he’d indicated, and he placed his bag on the floor before leading her into the ballroom. “The windows open up all the way so you can walk outside. When the house was first built, a carriage could draw up to the house for events. The occupants would alight onto the porch, then walk straight into the home, bypassing the door.”

  “Ingenious.”

  “There are blinds, here.” He unfolded them from inside the wall.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “It was quite the find. Hidden behind some paint.”

  “Paint?”

  “Purple. From the 1970s, we guessed. By then, the house had been subdivided into two apartments. It’s the longest demo I’ve ever been involved with.”

  They walked through to the dining room. She guessed the oversize table seated twenty, but right now, most of it was covered with paper—blueprints, design magazines, sketches, notes, real estate listings. “Your office?”

  “It’s not supposed to be. But once I grab my coffee in the morning, I often gravitate to this room before heading to work. It’s…”

  She waited. He hadn’t hesitated before now.

  “A sense of family. Connection.”

  An interesting thing for the infamous One Night Dom to say.

  “Let’s go this way.” He took her back to the foyer, then into what she guessed was a living room, since it had a large-screen television and comfortable-looking couch. While the picture rail and crown molding appeared to be original, the furnishings were modern and inviting. Dozens of books were artfully displayed on shelves, and she could imagine curling up with a cup of tea and spending the day lost between the covers.

  “This,” he said, walking through the opening that could be blocked off with pocket doors, “is supposed to be my study.”

  At one end of the room was a brown leather couch. Despite having end tables adorned with beautiful Tiffany-style lamps, and a colorful afghan draped across one of the arms, the piece of furniture was too big to be inviting.

  An imposing rolltop desk was the room’s focal point, and it had an old-fashioned rolling wood chair tucked beneath it. The blinds were closed, and the lightbulbs weren’t bright enough for the large space. Plants might help. Different colors, anything to break the masculine monochrome. “I see why you don’t use it.”

  “Oh?” He folded his arms across his chest.

  “I don’t mean to be offensive.”

  “Not at all.”

  “It’s more sterile than the rest of the rooms. Darker. Somber.” A little sad. Lonely, even.

  For a moment, Hannah thought he might say something, but he didn’t.

  “But suddenly I’m imagining you splayed wide, your back arched, tied to the desk.”

  She blinked as her breathing slowed. After they’d left the private room at the Quarter, she’d claimed her purse and large tote bag from the cloakroom. Then she’d changed into her street clothes—a little black dress, pearls she’d bought herself with her first ever bonus, and heels.

  When she emerged from the small locker room, he’d given her an appreciative glance before escorting her down the stairs and out of the club. Because her heels would make it difficult for her to walk to his car, he’d hired a bicycle rickshaw to shuttle them the few blocks.

  During the ride through the crowded streets of the French Quarter, then the drive to the Lower Garden District, Mason had kept the conversation casual, with no hint of what they’d shared or what the weekend held. So his words now caught her completely off guard.

  “It would be the perfect way to flog you.”

  “A desk as bondage equipment?”

  “Finally the room has merits.”

  She hesitated. This was one of the most unnerving parts about playing with someone new…the uncertainty. Did he mean it? Or was it a merely a tease, part of engaging her mind as well as her body. “I’m not sure whether or not you’re serious.”

  “I assure you, I am.” His face was set in hard lines, and his eyes were unreadable. “What do you say, Hannah? Are you going to turn yourself over to me?”

  As if that were in doubt.

  Devilishly, he smiled.

  “Since we both know your answer, take off your dress.”

  Chapter 5

  Hannah had wanted to continue their encounter, but stripping in his study and being tied up to his desk was so far out of her expectations that the world spun a little faster.

  “Shall we start with your front or your back?”

  A wicked thrill turned her tummy. “Whatever you say, Sir.” She reached behind her for the zipper’s hasp but fumbled with it.

  “May I?”

  “Please.” She turned her back to him, and he brushed her hair aside. He placed a small kiss on the side of her neck before finishing the task.

  She was tempted to lean into him, but he’d given her an order.

  Obediently, she lifted the dress up and off.

  Mason took it from her and draped it over the chair.

  “And the lingerie. Which is beautiful, by the way.”

  Matching and new, black satin and lace, and so far above her budget that she’d justified it as a once-in-a-lifetime splurge. She’d hoped someone would bid on her, and if so, she’d hoped he was a Dom who appreciated beautiful undergarments.

  Hannah worked her panties down her legs, then unfastened her bra and rolled her shoulders forward so the straps fell.

  He placed each piece with her dress. “Would you like to wear the pearls or remove them?”

  She twirled one of the white beads. “Do you have a preference?”

  He perused her. “Looking at you in your heels and pearls is the stuff of fantasies. If I was having you pose for pictures, that’s what I would have you wear. But I don’t want them to get damaged or broken.”

  “I agree.”

  “I’ll put them back when I’m done with you. Lift your hair so I can help you.”

  She thought he might fumble since his fingers were so big and roughened, but he effortlessly unfastened the latch.

  He placed the necklace on top of her dress, in a long, snaking angle that revealed an artistic flair. Another facet of him that she hadn’t expected.

  Mason pushed the chair toward a corner, out of the way. “Wait for me here. I’ll be gone less than five minutes.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  At the doorway, he
paused to brace a hand on the frame. He turned back to face her. “Will you be okay if I leave you alone? That was on your limits list…”

  He remembered, and he cared. The difference between him and Liam had never been starker than at this moment. “I’m okay.”

  Concern, and a little doubt, furrowed his eyebrows, so she offered a further explanation, revealing parts of herself that she’d kept hidden until now. “That’s more about humiliation.” Being put on show. Or worse, abandoned. “You’re not leaving me to”—shame—“ignore me, Sir.”

  “You’re welcome to come with me.”

  Her clothes were in the room, and her purse was in the kitchen. She wasn’t tied up. At any point, she could dress and leave at any time she wanted, and that was all the security she needed. “Thank you. I really am fine.”

  “If you change your mind, call for me. Or come and find me.”

  Then he left. Suddenly the room chilled by several degrees—either that or her imagination was in fine form.

  Nerves.

  It had to be nerves.

  At home, she never went nude. She slept in shorts and tank top, and even after a bath, she slipped into a robe, so it was strange, being alone, naked in his study.

  The air conditioner kicked on, making her nipples hard again and chilling her body. Restless, she walked around the room, and her heels were the only sound in the silent house.

  For a moment, she stopped to listen deeper, trying to discern where Mason was and what he was doing. No doubt he’d gone to retrieve his bag with the toys he’d paid an exorbitant sum for. But that wouldn’t take this long.

  A faint creak reached her. His footfall on the stairs? He’d mentioned tying her up. Was he fetching rope?

  Her nerves ratcheted up again.

  Several pictures hung from the far wall—drawings of some kind. Homes in the area? She moved in for a closer view. At least one of them appeared to be of his house. And another she recognized from a tour she’d taken. They were all signed in the same way, and she realized they were renderings, all from the same architect. Someone prominent, no doubt.

  She studied each picture several times, trying to keep her thoughts from spiraling out of control, wondering what was going to happen when he returned.

  Another creak drifted on the air.

  Then he was back, still wearing his dress slacks and shirt, but he’d taken off his jacket, the cummerbund, and the bowtie. He’d removed a couple of the pearl studs, and he’d rolled up his shirtsleeves.

  He held a black leather monogrammed bag, and he carried it to a side table. “Come here, Hannah.”

  His voice was deep with uncompromising command, and she took smaller than usual steps as she went to him.

  “Go ahead. Have a look.”

  She loosened the latch and lifted it. The small flogger was there, along with skeins of rope, safety scissors, two pairs of nipple clamps, a bottle of lubricant, a package of hand sanitizing wipes, and a medium-size silicone butt plug.

  Under his watchful gaze, she took out each item and placed them next to each other.

  “Choose which nipple clamps you wish to wear.”

  The tweezers were thick and sturdy, but she picked the clovers. She tested the grip on her pinky finger, then immediately removed them. “These, Sir,” she said, selecting the less vicious ones.

  “Now let me see you put them on.”

  Though she often wore them when she masturbated, it took her a couple of attempts since he was right there, smelling of spice and intent, planning to flog her.

  “They look lovely.”

  She swayed a little to test them. They were affixed well enough that they wouldn’t slip off, but they weren’t so tight that they ached.

  “Are you aroused?”

  “The clamps alone aren’t doing it, to be honest, Sir.”

  “Perhaps a little ass play may help?”

  Hannah already knew his tone well enough to know that wasn’t a suggestion.

  “Go ahead and put lube on the plug.” He leaned his shoulders against the wall. “You’ll want to put on plenty so it goes in easier.”

  After squirting a generous dollop of the viscous fluid into her palm, she coated the entire length of the shaft. While it was thicker at the base than anything she owned, it wasn’t outrageously big.

  “Make sure you work it back and forth.”

  As if I’m lubing your cock? For a moment, lost, she hesitated.

  “Now me.” He extended his hand.

  She placed the silicone toy upright on the table, then coated his first two fingers.

  “You think that’s enough? It’s your ass in question.”

  To be sure, and because he obviously liked it, she did it one more time before cleaning her hands on one of the wipes.

  “I’d like you to bend your knees a little and spread your ass for me, and don’t even think of a halfhearted attempt like you tried to get away with at the club.”

  She opened her mouth to protest. Then she remembered his masterful handling of her and the way he’d parted her cheeks farther than she imagined possible.

  Without any further hesitation, she followed his instructions. The clamps swayed, exerting a minute amount of pressure. It wasn’t enough to arouse her, just snare her attention.

  “Good.”

  His approval meant the world to her. He slipped a finger into her rear channel, somewhat faster than he had earlier this evening. Because of the lube and because they’d done this once, it wasn’t a struggle at all, and she was ready for him. “Sir…”

  When he pushed forward again, it was with two fingers.

  She was so full that she sighed. Even though she said nothing, clearly he knew what she wanted, and he thrust his fingers in and out of her several times. Then he finger-fucked her relentlessly until she whimpered, on the verge of an orgasm.

  “If I touch your clit, you’ll come, won’t you?”

  Suddenly the thought was at the forefront of her mind. “Yes.”

  “Then I’ll be sure not to do that.”

  Her hands slipped, but before she uttered a protest, she pulled her ass cheeks apart for him again.

  Mason drove back inside her, deep, all the way to his knuckles, filling her completely. He was fast, more powerful than before, rocking her forward onto her toes and tugging uncomfortably on her clamps.

  After pulling out and plunging back in, he scissored his fingers apart, making her gasp. “Oh, Sir!”

  “I like filling you, Hannah.”

  “Yes, yes!”

  And then…he pulled out and moved away from her. With her hands braced on her knees, she tried to catch her breath.

  Since he hadn’t given her permission to move, she stayed where she was, wide open, needy, the clamps swinging back and forth.

  His shoes were loud over the rushing in her head, and she guessed he was at the table, wiping his hands.

  “I’m going to enjoy this at least as much as you do,” he said as he returned.

  He pressed the tip of the plug to her, then slid an arm beneath her tummy to hold her in place as he inserted the large piece of silicone.

  When he reached the fattest part, she whimpered. She was sure Mason had fully prepared her for it, and when she’d coated the thing, it hadn’t seemed as big as it did now.

  He drew the shaft back an inch or so, giving her a chance to relax for a moment before trying again.

  “That’s… It’s a lot, Sir.”

  “Before this weekend is out, I intend to fuck your ass with my cock. I suggest you take every opportunity to get used to it.”

  Her head swam. He was the perfect combination of forceful and kind, the swoon-worthy kind of Dom she dreamed of.

  “Ask for it.”

  He was demanding the impossible.

  “But…”

  “I’m waiting.”

  Nothing could be worse than him just holding it there. She fidgeted, trying to get some relief.

  “We’ve got all night.” Hi
s tone was patient, and the only way he’d relent was if she used a safe word. And things weren’t that bad.

  Fine. He won. “I’d like it inside me.”

  “You’ve stalled so long I’d like to hear a little more enthusiasm.”

  She wrinkled her nose. Her legs were fatiguing, and the pressure on her nipples was becoming intolerable. When she was sexually aroused, wearing clamps heightened her pleasure. Now the ache was an unwelcome distraction. “Will you put the plug all the way in me, Sir?”

  “Anything for you, Hannah.” He held her tighter and then sank the plug in all the way.

  She yelped as the widest part pushed past her sphincter, and then…blessed relief. The stem was a fraction of the diameter, and her body was able to relax.

  “I can’t tell you how nice that looks all snuggled up in there.” He lowered his arm but took a second to touch her shoulder reassuringly before leaving her.

  He returned to wipe off the excess lube before letting her know it was okay to stand up.

  “Thank you, Sir.” As she turned toward him, the floor seemed to move beneath her. Mason was there for her, reaching out with a steadying hand. “I’m good. Just stood up too fast.”

  As if wanting to be sure for himself, he held on to her for a few seconds before he spoke again. “How does that feel? Is the plug big enough for you?”

  She wasn’t sure she understood his question. It was larger than she was accustomed to.

  “I want to be sure you’re aware of its presence. There’s a larger one I can fetch, if you’d prefer?”

  “No!”

  His grin was sexy and triumphant.

  “I can definitely feel it.”

  “Perhaps I should inspect you.”

  Lord save her. He couldn’t know how his words undid her. She dreaded that as much as she thirsted for it.

  “That wasn’t a random musing.”

  Heat poured through her at his implacable tone. Understanding his unspoken command, she instantly spread her legs, making the toy shift. She placed her hands behind her neck. The combination of his attention and the way the clamps tugged was overwhelming.

  “I may require you to be in that position all the time, with your entire body available to me.”