His to Claim

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His to Claim Page 13

by Sierra Cartwright


  “Not at all.” She shook her head. “Your mom is a firecracker. So much energy. And Norman…”

  “I’m interested in your opinion.” He took a drink of water.

  “He’s in love with her, isn’t he? In a gentle way. It’s very sweet.”

  “They met at a grief class.”

  She tipped her head to one side, hearing an odd note of pain in his voice, mixed with something that might have been judgement. “Do you not like him?”

  “It’s not about that.”

  “No? Has he done something to make you concerned?” When he didn’t immediately reply, she made a guess of her own. “Does it seem too soon after losing your dad?”

  “It hasn’t been all that long.”

  “Disrespectful to his memory, maybe?”

  “It’s more than that. I want to be sure she doesn’t jump into something too fast.” He rearranged the salt and pepper shakers. “Or get taken advantage of.”

  She smiled. “From what I saw today, she’s a woman very capable of making her own decisions.”

  “I’ll give you that.”

  “Is it possible that your parents talked about this before he passed? Maybe he didn’t want her to be lonely. Perhaps he wished her all the happiness in the world.”

  Mason dropped his hand from the table to his lap.

  “Your dad sounds like a thoughtful man. I’m sure it would have occurred to him. Maybe he asked her to keep living and enjoy her life.”

  “Potentially. You’re right that my dad would have been considerate enough to think about her emotional future as well as her financial one.”

  “And Norman? If they met at a grief class, it means they were working through the emotions, right? Both of them are facing reality instead of pretending it didn’t happen or that they’re okay. They reached out for support.” She paused, trying to be sure she wasn’t pushing too hard. “Your mom and Norman seem happy together. You talk to her enough to pick up warning signs if there was anything to worry about. Maybe you can trust yourself. And her.”

  Hannah toyed with her salad fork, turning it upside down on the tablecloth. “That’s something I want for my mom. Ever since she and my dad split, she’s been alone. Over twenty years. She sacrificed herself for me. But now I’m not sure she knows who she is. I’d love for her to find a man like Norman. A companion. Someone to share the journey with.”

  The waiter brought the bottle of mineral water that Mason had ordered for them to share. After squeezing the wedge of lime into her glass, she took a sip. “I know this is hard, but think about it from your mom’s perspective. She spent her entire adult life with your dad. It has to be lonely.”

  “Yeah.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Maybe.”

  “Cynic.” When he didn’t respond, she took a step into dangerous territory. “What made you that way?”

  He was silent for so long she wasn’t sure whether he would answer or change the conversation, maybe even hope for a distraction from their server.

  “Her name was Deborah. She was my sub. Collared. Owned.”

  Hannah sucked in a breath. She should have expected something like that.

  “Things were fine when she had a job, but after a year or two, we agreed she’d stay home.”

  “That’s a serious relationship.”

  “It happened so slowly, over time, but she became emotionally demanding. Stopped seeing her friends. Blamed me for her unhappiness.” He lifted a shoulder. “I’m sure I was part of it. I was working with Dad. Then he got ill. And, well…she gave me an ultimatum. We could have made it through anything. I was committed to her. To us. It’s my way.” His words were flat, as if they needed no further explanation. “I asked her for patience. I couldn’t give up the time, hours, minutes with my dad. He didn’t have long to live, and my parents needed my support. But Deborah resented my work schedule. I tried to be compassionate. I knew it had to be difficult for her to be home all day, alone, waiting for me to arrive. Not just a partner, but a Dom.”

  A master.

  The conflicts on his time and his heart must have torn him apart. No matter how she looked at it, it was an unwinnable situation. “I’m sorry. That’s not how it’s supposed to work, is it? In a relationship, you’re supposed to be there for each other. Keep each other safe from the world. Be a safe harbor. Supportive.”

  “Nice idea, isn’t it?” He lapsed into silence. “I worked at home as much as I could. And I invited her to visit me at jobsites or the office. But she refused to drive or call a car service. I’d offer to pick her up so she could spend the evening over here while I restored the house with Dad.” He trailed off. “Needless to say, she had no interest in spending time at my parents’ house or, later, the hospital. One afternoon, Dad had chemotherapy. After dropping him off afterward, I decided to come home instead of going back to the office. I bought Deborah flowers to surprise her. I was the one who got a surprise. She was gone. Her collar was on the bed next to a pair of bolt cutters and a note.”

  Then with honesty that stunned her, he continued. “It said, thanks for nothing.”

  The harshness took away Hannah’s breath. “God, Mason.”

  “I would have given her the world.” His smile was nothing more than a ghost that matched the pain in his eyes. “She showed up at my mom’s house right after the funeral. Among the casseroles and stories and sharing of memories, she took me away from a conversation with Thoroughgood to tell me she forgave me for abandoning her.”

  “Last night.” No wonder… “You stopped to be sure I wouldn’t feel abandoned when you left me alone in your study.”

  “When I’m with anyone, I’m concerned for their well-being. Especially yours, Hannah. I would never harm you.”

  Not intentionally, perhaps. And to be fair, it wasn’t his fault she was in danger of losing her heart, the one thing she swore never to do again.

  The server returned to the table with a large basket filled with an assortment of rolls and breads. “May I bring you a cocktail? Perhaps a bottle of wine? I can suggest one, if you’d like.”

  “Would you like a glass?” Mason offered.

  She frowned, confused by his question. This morning, before they’d left the house, he’d brought her to the edge but denied her an orgasm. Several times during the day, he’d teased her, ordered her to play with herself in the car. She’d assumed they would scene this evening, but if she drank, they wouldn’t be able to.

  Again, as if sensing her dilemma, he said, “As long as you eat and limit yourself to one glass, we should be fine. I’m skipping it, but I’ll leave the choice up to you.”

  “In that case, I’ll pass as well. Thank you.”

  “Very well,” the server said, accepting the wine list that Mason handed to him.

  “I think we’re ready to order?” He looked to her for confirmation.

  Hannah nodded her agreement.

  “Ma’am?”

  She opted for a cup of the shrimp and sausage gumbo, along with a blackened catfish. Mason went with étouffée and their largest steak, drizzled in a rich sauce and covered with buttered crab.

  As they waited for appetizers Mason talked about the construction trade and its numerous challenges, from the weather, to keeping his crews working all year, to dealing with building departments, preservation entities, and homeowners who changed their minds about what they wanted.

  “And I have the opportunity to pitch a show to a Canadian company that specializes in home improvement programs.”

  She’d been reaching for a bread roll, but she dropped her hand.

  “New Orleans is a favorite with their viewers.”

  “That totally makes sense. So much history, different kinds of buildings.” Generally, when she visited, she and Fiona spent a lot of their time hanging out in the French Quarter, but today with Mason, she’d seen a lot of different kinds of architecture. “It’s vibrant, isn’t it? Culturally. And there are so many places that could feature in episodes, right?”
>
  “If I don’t do it, no doubt another firm will.”

  “What’s your hesitation?”

  “Time. I ran the business with Dad. And it took both of us. I have managers.” He shrugged. “But it’s not the same commitment. And shows with couples, partners tend to do better. Someone to play off. And a unique dynamic.”

  “I think you’d be great at it. If you wanted to do it.”

  Their appetizers arrived, and she sipped the flavorful soup. “This…” She looked across at him to see him staring at her. “What?”

  He grinned. “Enjoying your enjoyment.”

  “If you think this is something, wait until the bread pudding arrives.”

  “How do you even know they have it?”

  “With warm bourbon sauce. Just something you should know about me, I always look at the dessert selection first and plan dinner accordingly.”

  “Hence the catfish.”

  She tipped her spoon toward him. “All those good looks, and intuition.”

  “Tell me more about what you do.”

  “Nothing glamorous. I work in the corporate travel office at Lux Computers.”

  “They’re big in Austin.”

  “One of the largest employers, yes. And since it’s a multinational company, we have salespeople, techs, management, and executives traveling all the time.”

  “You like it?”

  “It’s gotten to be routine.” She broke a piece off a roll and dipped it in her gumbo. “But I’m at the top end of the pay scale. There are generally cost of living increases and sometimes a bonus, but if I want to advance, I’ll probably need to look at transferring to a different department or leaving Lux altogether.” Which wasn’t something she wanted to do. “I like my coworkers, and the hours are good. No weekends or holidays, which is a plus.” Paid time off was in line with the market, and the benefits were wonderful.

  “You like living in Austin?”

  “Yes. Such a great town. Amazing music scene. Great art. Food. Different than New Orleans for sure, but the barbecue is killer.” But she hated the idea of going back to a city where she was reluctant to rejoin the kink community.

  Now that she’d been with Mason and rediscovered the thrill of being with a Dom, she wanted more…at least an occasional scene.

  For the next hour, they enjoyed their food and easy conversation before the valet brought around the car.

  “Masturbate while I drive,” Mason whispered in her ear before he closed her inside the passenger seat.

  Once he pulled away from the curb, she pushed aside her inherent embarrassment and hiked up her hem. It was dark, and there was little traffic around. A person would need to be in a truck to see what she was doing.

  Still, playing with herself in the car was far more difficult than she’d imagined. The safety belt was a challenge, and so was the angle. But none of that seemed to concern her Dom.

  He gave her occasional heated glances that kept her turned on.

  “Save your orgasms for me, Hannah.”

  Her pussy throbbed by the time they arrived back at his house and he gave permission for her to stop fingering herself.

  When he helped her from the car, he lifted her hand for a gentlemanly kiss. “That scent needs to be all over my face.”

  As if she’d been scalded, her skin heated.

  He held her hand as they walked up the path.

  “I’ve been waiting all damn day for this moment” His words were growly as he closed the door behind them, then turned the lock.

  Though Hannah shivered at his dominant tone, her toes curled and her pussy throbbed. “So have I, Sir.” Everything about him—from his wicked commands to his courteous manners—appealed to her.

  He captured her chin, then claimed her mouth with an untamed wildness that foreshadowed the evening ahead. Passion. Possession.

  Since she was auctioned off, she’d been sucked into Mason Sullivan’s vortex, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to get away.

  He swept her dress up and off, then lifted her onto the countertop. “Lie back, Hannah.”

  “But…”

  He cupped her shoulder and pushed with inexorable force. He was a man who would not be denied.

  This was so wrong, and so damn hot. Beneath her bare buttocks, the quartz was cold. The gleam in his eyes, however, was hot.

  “Open your legs.”

  Her feet dangled over the edge, and he took her thighs in his hands and pried them apart. Then he licked her, sucked on her clit, plunged his tongue inside her, along with a finger. He overwhelmed her. Satisfied her. “Sir, this is impossible.”

  “Come for me, Hannah. Give it to me.”

  Shamelessly she pushed her pussy against his face in silent entreaty. He understood and gave her what she needed, a sharp slap. In a wave, sensation crashed into her. Then he rubbed it out and licked away the hurt.

  In seconds, the pain rushed away, replaced by clawing hunger.

  Desperate, frantic, she played with her nipples, tugging on them; then she lifted her rear off the counter. “Mason!” She screamed as she climaxed.

  Hannah allowed her body to drop back against the quartz, and this time the coolness soothed her.

  “That’ll take the edge off,” he said, brushing one of his fingers across her lips, painting them with her own juices.

  Hannah had never been with a Dom—or even a man—this considerate. She was aware that he was ruining every future experience for her.

  “I could eat your pussy all day.”

  Hannah wasn’t sure she could survive him.

  “Upstairs,” he ordered, working an arm beneath her to help her sit up.

  Before helping her down, he gave her a moment to let her head clear. He held her for a moment, then kissed her gently, the taste of her satisfaction blending on their tongues.

  “You good?”

  “Thanks. I think I can stand on my own now.” Maybe.

  He dropped his hands. “I want you to walk up the stairs in front of me. And give me a show.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Be a supermodel. I want to watch you move those beautiful hips.”

  His request made her a little self-conscious, but surely it couldn’t be worse than going on the auction block.

  “If you stall, I’ll put a butt plug up there to be damn sure you can’t walk straight.”

  When she’d climbed the first few steps, he whistled.

  “Now shake it, Miss Hannah.”

  She thought she was over her self-consciousness, but she was very much aware of his lewd focus on her. Still, swallowing her hesitation, she exaggerated her movements.

  “You’re slaying me, woman. Dead.”

  She laughed. And because he was pleased, she relaxed and gave him more of what he was asking for.

  “That’s it. My sub.”

  At the top of the stairs, she turned toward his bedroom.

  “Third floor,” he said.

  Curious, she stopped. “What’s up there?”

  “You didn’t explore it yesterday?”

  “No. I figured it was storage.”

  “Oh. It is.” His words were as mysterious as his tone. “Go ahead.”

  Because these stairs were more twisty, narrower and steeper, she held on to the banister.

  She turned the antique-looking key in the ornate brass lock and opened the door.

  “There’s a light switch on the left.”

  She flipped it up and illuminated the room. She gasped, unable to move. Standing on the threshold, a bit nervous to enter, she tried to take it all in. “Holy wowzer and a half.”

  He came up behind her to place his hands on her shoulders. “Do you like it?”

  “You have your own dungeon?”

  “Suffice it to say it wasn’t part of the original design. It’s a custom addition.”

  The floor was wood, polished to an amazing gleam. The wall opposite the door was painted a deep red that gave her a little chill. He had a spanking bench,
and a structure that looked somewhat like a sawhorse.

  There were two antique armoires next to each other, and he’d even thought to add a couch and a bed. Off to one side was a small sink and a couple of cupboards and bottled water on the countertop.

  “This is…” A fantasy come true. Once again, she wondered how she could possibly endure a future without BDSM in it.

  “When you’re ready, go on in.”

  After taking a steadying breath, she did so, and her shoes were all but silent. “Soundproof, Sir?”

  “Scream all you want, Hannah.”

  “I’m not sure if that’s sexy or scary.”

  “Both, perhaps?” He paused for a frightening second before speaking again. “I’m going to paddle you.”

  She turned to face him. Damn, he was handsome. A lock of hair had fallen forward. He still wore a black suit with a bloodred tie. He was formidable and delicious. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Open the armoire on the right.”

  When she did, she found half a dozen paddles hanging from hooks in the top.

  “Choose one.”

  Bravery deserted her. She bypassed the heaviest ones in favor of a thin leather one.

  “Excellent. That’s the same one I would have selected,” he said.

  After removing his jacket and placing it over the couch, he extended his hand.

  Once she turned it over, she slipped into a different place in her mind. Her thoughts slowed, and her senses were enhanced. This was why she’d agreed with Fiona’s suggestion to sign up for the auction. Hannah had missed living in this alternate universe.

  “Nipple clamps?”

  “Are you telling me to fetch them, Sir? Or are you asking if I want to wear them?”

  “Wondering if they’ll enhance your experience.”

  “Yes.”

  He smiled. “Same armoire. Middle drawer.”

  It was lined with felt, and a dozen pairs were stretched across the bottom. Enthralled, she selected clover clamps.

  “Beautiful. Go ahead and put them on.” He tapped the paddle against his open palm while he watched.

  Under his scrutiny, each of her motions seemed exaggerated.

  Placing the first clamp sent a spike of awareness through her, while the second made her moan.

  “Pretty. So very pretty.” He smacked the paddle harder, making her suck in a breath. “Now, walk over to the horse and bend over it. I’d like you to grab hold of the legs on the far side.”

 

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