His to Claim

by Sierra Cartwright

  “Last night, you asked me why I wanted to be in the auction. But I’m curious why you participated. Do you do it every year?” What was he hoping to get out of it? Have a submissive without the obligation of a long-term relationship?

  “Until Thursday night, I never planned to attend.”

  She sat back. “Really?”

  “Aviana—Mistress Aviana—is on the board of Reclamation.”

  “The charity the auction was for?”

  “One and the same. You may not know that my father started it.”

  “Really?”

  “I’m the current president,” he went on. “Aviana is more than generous with her time and resources. For the past two years I skipped the event. I sent money, sizable amounts, actually. But that doesn’t equal support for the event, and she let me know that.”

  It was interesting, seeing Aviana as more than a BDSM club owner and kick-ass Domme. And Mason as a son, caretaker of his father’s dreams. “Because you’re president, you had no choice.”

  “That’s an accurate summarization.”

  Hannah curled up in the chair and waited for him to go on.

  “I had no intention of bidding on a submissive.” He paused a second, as if choosing his words. “And then I saw you.”

  Now-familiar skitters shimmied through her.

  “Beauty. Elegance.”

  She blushed. Those words didn’t seem to apply to her.

  “Nervousness.”

  That definitely fit her.

  “Distrust, even.”

  Once again, he knew things about her that others didn’t.

  “You looked at me, Hannah.”

  She went still. He couldn’t know that. The spotlights had been blazing, and there were at least a hundred people in the room.

  “You chose me as much as I chose you.” He leaned forward. “The question is why. You don’t know me.”

  Hannah debated her answer. Denial? Tell him the truth? Or something close to it? “You seemed safe.”

  “In what way?”

  “Doms—subs, I’m sure, also—get reputations.” She wasn’t going to reveal his nickname. “You’re known for being a good Dom. Satisfying your submissive.”

  He raised an eyebrow so fast she knew he didn’t believe her.

  She moved positions completely, reversing directions in the chair. “You scene with a lot of different women.”

  Her statement didn’t dissuade him from his questions. “You were looking for a man who doesn’t want a commitment?”

  Being honest here was harmless enough. “Of course.”

  “A weekend, nothing more. You don’t even live in the same city. That grants you a certain amount of anonymity, doesn’t it? We aren’t going to run into each other in town or at the club.”

  She lifted a shoulder.

  He propped his elbows on his knees. “Does this have anything to do with the fact that you hate collars? Being left alone.”

  She dug her fingers into the seat cushion.

  “Fuck.” He jumped up to pace the gallery.

  She remained where she was.

  A minute later, maybe more, he stopped in front of her. “Humiliation?”

  “Please…” Except for one night, about six months after she’d left Liam, Hannah had never talked about this.

  Mason plowed a hand into his hair. “I’m safe. That’s what you said, right? Because you only have to commit to two nights. And you’re pretty damn sure I’m not going to ask for anything else.”

  “We have an agreement.”

  He expelled a jagged sigh. “He fucking hurt you.”

  “More emotionally than anything.”

  “Don’t. Just don’t. Okay?” Mason dropped into his seat. “Don’t negate it. If you didn’t agree, there’s no consent. No one should tolerate that. Relationships are about taking care of each other, being there, supporting, understanding. And not ever about pain.”

  Pretending she wasn’t affected by his insight, she picked up her cup of coffee. It was cold and almost impossible to swallow past the knot in her throat.

  “I get it. I hate it. But I’m glad you chose me.”

  She wasn’t sure whether or not she was. He was so much more complicated than she’d bargained for. Specifically she wanted him because he would spank her, maybe tie her up, but never pry into her personal life.

  Across the street, the little boy threw his leg over the crossbar and settled onto the seat again. Dad leaned in to grab the seat and hold it steady. “Ready? Pedal!”

  About twenty steps later, Dad let go and grabbed his knees, huffing for breath. “Keep going!”

  Leaning forward with incredible focus, the boy turned the wheels ferociously.

  The dad raised his hands to clap but dropped them right away, obviously afraid of breaking the magic.

  “It’s a good lesson,” Mason repeated. “Keep going. Don’t look back.”

  Hannah wasn’t sure she could do that. Especially now that she knew so much more about Mason, how deep he was, how completely he loved, how he relentlessly continued to dig for answers she didn’t want to give. Losing her heart to him would destroy her completely.

  Chapter 8

  Mason’s phone rang. He’d ignore it in favor of another cup of coffee on the porch with Hannah, except for the fact that he recognized the ringtone. “It’s my mother.” If he didn’t answer, she wouldn’t leave a message, but she would call again and again until he finally picked up.

  “You should talk to her. I’ll clean up the dishes.”

  “I’ll be right back.” He stood. “No need to hurry. We have strawberries to finish.” And they weren’t done with their conversation, either.

  By the time he picked up the mobile device from the dresser, it had stopped ringing.

  While Hannah had been making breakfast, he sent texts canceling the meetings he had scheduled for the day. He also asked one of his site managers to drop by their renovation in Algiers. There was a scheduled walk-through with the homeowners to update progress and set the completion date.

  In addition to missing his mother’s call, Mason hadn’t seen the response from his manager, Bruce. Seemed he had his kids for the day, and the oldest had a baseball game this afternoon.

  Standing where he could watch Hannah move to the swing and set it in motion, he pressed the button to dial his mom.

  “Mason, darling…”

  He braced for impact. She didn’t call him darling unless she wanted something. “Morning, Mom.”

  “Norman and I were wondering…”

  Hannah tipped back her head, and her sleep-tousled hair fell in appealing waves behind her, making him want to fist it as he held her prisoner for his kiss.

  “Are you listening, son?”

  “Sorry. Distracted.” Obsessed.

  “It’s for sale by owner.”

  He blinked. “What is?”

  She sighed with impatience. “The house I want you to look at. Norman thinks it would be a good investment for me.”

  As if she needed any more investments, or advice from her new man. “Start over, please.”

  “John called this morning.”

  John Thoroughgood had been a longtime financial adviser to their family. Now that this wasn’t about a random suggestion from Norman, Mason was more interested. “Okay.”

  “He has a client who has had a slight downturn in circumstances.”

  Polite for he’s broke as hell.

  “He was evidently partway through restoring a home near the French Quarter to be used as a vacation rental before he ran out of funds.”

  “You sure you’re up for a vacation rental? That’s a lot of effort unless you hire it out.”

  “It could be a long-term lease, perhaps. Or we can flip it.”

  He blinked. “Flip it?”

  “You know, like on the shows. You invest some money and then sell it for a lot more.”

  Mason shook his head, glad they weren’t on a video chat. He knew what a flip
was. Honestly, he was surprised his mom did. In all the years his dad had been in the business, she’d shown no interest in his work.

  “We have an appointment at eleven.” She recited an address on Kerlerec. “Can you meet us there?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Thank you, darling.”

  After sending a text to his manager, Mason placed his phone upside down on the dresser, then went back outside. Even though he didn’t have an invitation, he sat next to Hannah on the swing. Slowly, with a smile, she lifted her head.

  “Morning, again.” Being this close to her was pleasant. She smelled of sweetness and sex. He couldn’t get enough. He curled a lock of her hair around his finger. “As much as I’d like to spend the entire day fucking you until you can’t walk, duty calls.”

  “Oh? Something for your mom?”

  “She’s looking at a house. Well, her and Norman. And probably her financial adviser. It will be a party. Then I have a walkthrough with a HO—sorry, homeowner—to go over their renovations and discuss their budget.” He shrugged. “I tried to pass off the responsibility, but my manager is busy with his kids.”

  “That’s fine. I can hang out here or go back to Fiona’s for the afternoon. Or grab lunch at my favorite restaurant.”

  “I prefer you come with me.”

  She angled her body to better see him. “Won’t that be awkward? With your mom? And I’m sure the homeowners won’t want me tagging along.”

  In all his years dating Deborah, he had never invited her to go with him. “It will be fine, and I think you might enjoy it, since you’ve asked so many questions about this house.”

  “I would. Have fun, I mean.”

  “Good. We’re meeting Mom at eleven. Which gives you time for a leisurely bath. And you’re going to need it.”

  She shivered. “Is that so…”

  For a moment, Hannah hesitated, as if she was deciding how to address him. When he’d placed the winning bid, he’d told her he didn’t want to be called Master, saying that the word spoke of commitment and responsibility. But now he longed to hear the term of respect roll off her tongue. And he wanted to deserve the title.

  In the silence, she finished her sentence. “Sir?”

  “Assuredly, sub.” He tugged his finger from her hair and shoved away his unexpected angst. “I suggest you get your hot little ass inside before I strip you right here.”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “Try me,” he suggested. It might help him vanquish the unsettled feelings slithering inside him.

  “But the neighbors—”

  “It would be quite the talk of the town, wouldn’t it? You naked, bent over the wrought iron?”

  She stood so abruptly, the swing wobbled.

  Mason narrowed his eyes wickedly. “I wish you’d made the other decision.”

  “I’ll bet you do.” Hannah dashed inside the house before he could hurry her along with a spank. Happier than he had a right to be, he followed. Mason pulled the tieback so that the curtain closed, but he left the window open. “Take off your shirt.”

  Her gaze on him, she did as he said. Like the perfect submissive, she’d followed his instructions and skipped undergarments.

  When she was naked, he pointed at a spot in front of him. “On your knees, Hannah.”

  She reached out a hand as if to steady herself. “I’m not sure—”

  “You’ll manage.”

  Even though she wrinkled her nose to express her doubts, she complied with his command.

  God, he loved having her in this position, her mouth so close to his crotch. “Remove my shorts and then place your hands behind your neck.”

  Her hands were warm on his skin, and the moment he was free of the constricting clothing, his cock jutted forward.

  “Sir…”

  Slowly, she adjusted herself to the position he’d instructed. “Good. Now open your mouth for me.”

  Instead of instantly responding, she closed her eyes.

  He chuckled. “That’s not going to make sucking my cock any easier.” He placed his palms on either side of her head to hold her in place.

  A frantic pulse beat in her throat, but she glanced up at him. “Uhm, may I touch you?”

  “Of course. I’d like that. “

  Hannah curled one hand around his cock and laid her other palm on the back of his thigh. Had anything ever been more perfect?

  Slowly she leaned toward him, and when she was close enough, she licked him.

  “Mmm.”

  Goddamn. What she did to him. Other women had sucked his dick, but no one had made that thrilling sound of approval when they’d tasted his precum.

  After a shallow breath, she licked his perineum, then closed her mouth around his cockhead.

  Unthinkingly, he tightened his grip on her.

  “Oh, Sir.” She took a short break to catch her breath, then licked and sucked again. Then she began stroking and taking more of him, going lower and lower on his shaft.

  When most of him was in her mouth, she gagged and pulled away.

  “You’re doing well.”

  She wiped tears from her eyes but gave him a tremulous smile before continuing on.

  With little moans, she worked her mouth around him, enthusiastically, rather than from duty. Then she took hold of his balls.

  Fucking hell. Still gripping her, he tilted his head and gave himself over to her. She was feminine perfection. Mason savored every moment.

  His dick throbbed with need, and his balls tightened in her grip.

  He was seconds away from spilling himself down her throat, and he had no intention of doing so. “Stop.” She continued, and he repeated himself. It was supposed to be a forceful order, but it emerged as a guttural plea.

  Mason captured her chin and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Stop, Hannah.”

  Slowly, she pulled away to sit on her haunches. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No. That’s not possible.” So he didn’t go off like a rocket, he avoided touching himself. “Stand up, please.” He offered his hand to assist her, and she accepted.

  But it wasn’t enough for him. He scooped her from the floor. With a yelp, she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her across the room to the bed to unceremoniously dump her on the mattress.

  She started to scramble away, but he grabbed hold of her ankle and yanked her back. Then he pulled her to where he wanted her, right on the edge.

  “Mason!”

  He imprisoned her, clamping his palms on her slender legs, right above her knees. Then he spread her legs wide.

  “Oh Sir!”

  “Play with your nipples.” He buried his head between her thighs.

  “You’re not—”

  He licked her pussy and inserted two fingers inside her as he pressed against her clitoris.

  She arched as she struggled to escape.

  “I’ll slap your naughty little cunt if you don’t stay still.”

  His threat made her freeze for a second, but when he slid his fingers back and forth, she thrashed about.

  Mason flicked his tongue, making her cry out his name.

  When his fingers were drenched with her arousal, he withdrew them and slipped one of them into her ass.

  “Yes, yes! No! I can’t…” She wailed.

  Tonguing her faster, he entered her ass with the second finger and fucked her relentlessly.

  “Mason! Sir! Master…I’m going to come.”

  He pulled out and pushed away from her.

  “No,” she protested.

  “We need to get moving.” Mason released his clamplike grip and stood.

  “You’re going to leave me like this?” She worked her way up onto her elbows. “Really?”

  “Like…?”

  “Hanging?”

  “It’s both of us, Miss Hannah. Ensuring we’ll be anxious to return home.”

  She dropped her head back onto the mattress with dramatic flair. “I must protest your ghastly behav
ior, Sir.”

  “So noted.” He grinned.

  “How about if I beg?”

  “Please do.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “But it wouldn’t work, right? You have no intention of changing your mind.”

  “None whatsoever. But I could spank you for arguing with your Dom.” That threat was empty. If he spanked her, he’d fuck her and get her off. And that would defeat his purpose. “You’re running out of time to take a bath.”

  He loomed over her, placing his palms flat on the bed, on either side of her body. Then he pinched one of her nipples. When it hardened, he pulled on it. The scent of her immediately filled the air. The power he had over her responses was heady. “You have two choices. I can finish you off here and now.”

  “But…?”

  “If I do, it will be your last orgasm of the day. Since I’m planning on scening with you again and again, I’ll deny you for”—he looked away while pretending to do the math—“fifteen hours. Oh, and I won’t be giving you any opportunity to sneak one in.”

  “I’ve heard you’re one of the best Doms on the planet.”

  “That, lovely Hannah, is a lie and a terrible attempt at appealing to my ego.” He grinned at her ineffective attempt, then sucked on the nipple he’d tormented. He bit and laved it with attention until she writhed beneath him.

  “Please? Please, Mason.”

  Then he released her and left her. At the door to the bathroom, he looked back. “On second thought, perhaps you are right. The best Doms keep their subs guessing and on the edge.”

  She groaned. Or perhaps it was a moan. At either rate, it was the delicious sound of distress—one he enjoyed tremendously.

  “Would you like me to wait in the car?”

  “No.” Near the property where they were meeting his mother, Mason slid the gearshift into park and studied Hannah. “Do you want to?”

  “It seems a little strange to meet your Mom, I guess.” She toyed with her purse strap. “But I’m interested to see the house.”

  So was he.

  Before leaving home he’d done a search on the address. The most recent pictures were a couple of years old, when the house was sold as is. It was a 1918 Creole-style cottage that had been abandoned. Floors were missing boards. Windows were shattered. Shingles were missing from the roof, which meant water damage. No doubt it needed new plumbing and electric. Probably required heat and air-conditioning, as well. Since the owner had started renovations, perhaps some of it had been brought up to code.