His to Claim

by Sierra Cartwright

  The sound of his voice had the power to make her damp.

  The metal chain between her clamps caught on the top rail, and she flinched.

  “Maybe we should add a weight to them?”

  This time, she knew it wasn’t a question. She was as petrified as she was intrigued.

  Hannah had to stand on her tiptoes in order to situate herself as he wanted. The chain swayed, pulling on her nipples. She tried to stay still, but even breathing made them move.

  “They were an excellent choice, weren’t they?”

  “Yes.” They were. Nothing else hurt so good.

  He crouched in front of her and tugged on the chain.

  She whimpered.

  “I love your sounds of distress.” He placed a thumb beneath her chin. “It’s like music for my soul.”

  Oh Mason.

  “Not too much weight, but enough,” he said, and she wondered if he meant the words to be reassuring. They weren’t. He fastened it to one of the links. “Should I let go of it gently? Or just open my hand?”

  Before she could formulate an answer, he dropped it.

  Hannah screamed, rising up even higher and then instantly regretting it because getting back into position would force her to pull up on the weight.

  “A lifetime of this wouldn’t be enough.” He moved behind her and tapped her right calf. “Please spread your legs.”

  Gingerly she inched her feet apart, trying to minimize the weight’s movement. Even then, it seemed as if it made a gigantic arc.

  Whose insane idea is this?

  Mason rubbed her thighs and buttocks with more force than he’d used before, undoubtedly to increase the pressure on her nipples.

  She was coming undone when he delivered the first stroke with the paddle, forcing her forward.

  The explosion of pain rocked her world. “Yes…” she begged.

  He continued methodically until she got lost inside her mind, a place where thought no longer existed. There was only pleasure—rippling, swirling, creating a kaleidoscope of patterns and colors.

  She reached for them, became them.

  Then shattered.

  Chapter 10

  In the middle of the night, Hannah woke up, and Mason’s arm was wrapped protectively around her. They were in his bed, and her memories were a little fuzzy.

  After the blazing paddling, she’d come back to reality. Her nipples were throbbing, but he’d removed the clamps and that horrid, satisfying weight.

  He’d helped her into the shower before they fell into bed together.

  On the third story, she’d turned herself over to him in a way she never had with any other Dom. She trusted him without question. And he kept her safe.

  Because of that, he’d reached a part of her that that she’d closed off after leaving Liam.

  That gnawed at her.

  She’d traveled to Louisiana for a fun, kinky weekend.

  She hadn’t wanted to complicate her life by caring for a demanding Dom who lived hundreds of miles away.

  And damn it, why did his mom have to be so wonderful too?

  In the distance, thunder rumbled. Nothing terrible, just a growl blowing up from the Gulf of Mexico.

  Maybe that had disturbed her sleep, but she doubted it. It was her feeling for Mason that left her wide-awake and unsettled.

  Knowing she’d never rest if she stayed in bed, Hannah tossed back the sheet and eased herself from his grip. He mumbled her name and opened an eye. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered.

  It wasn’t the truth, but she was convincing enough to get him to turn over and go back to sleep.

  From the closet, she picked up the T-shirt she’d discarded this morning and dressed herself in it as she crept down the stairs.

  In the kitchen, she opened a bottle of white wine, hoping it would help dull the suddenly sharp edges of her emotions.

  She carried a glass of the chardonnay to the living room and stared at the soft raindrops that were hitting the windowpanes and running down in fascinating rivulets.

  A few sips of the wine didn’t help her unwind. After setting the glass on a coaster featuring an image of a steamboat on the Mississippi River, she grabbed a throw and tossed it around her shoulders.

  Still unsettled, craving the comfort of her own space to heal, she settled for turning on the television.

  After surfing through all the cable channels, she switched to a subscription service and found a Christmas movie. It might be late spring, but with the storm and the frigid air from the air conditioner, she could pretend it was winter. And something to warm her soul would be nice.

  More than halfway through the movie, a floorboard creaked.

  A few seconds later, Mason stood in the doorway, sleep tousled, fantastically handsome in a pair of loose-fitting black shorts.

  To his credit, he didn’t ask if she was okay.

  Nor did he come sit next to her.

  Instead, he eased himself into a nearby chair, at an angle to her. “I waited as long as I could.”

  She gave him a tremulous smile. It was the best she could manage.

  “It’s pretty powerful,” he observed, voice hoarse.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Whatever the hell it is that’s going on between us.”

  A million words crowded her mind, some of denial, others flippant. And she didn’t want to give any of them a voice. “I…”

  “Unless I’m misreading the situation?”

  She shook her head. “You’re not.”

  Mason stood. He paced to the window, then back. “This is…” He stopped. “Damn. I made reservations for a jazz lunch tomorrow. And then I was going to ask you to consider staying.”

  The room seemed to spin. That wasn’t possible. She had a life, had made promises to herself.

  “You’re scared.”

  Scared? Petrified. “I can’t.”

  “Don’t want to?”

  “Won’t.” She wished the word had been forceful instead of a desperate whisper.

  “You could consider it. Apply for jobs out here. I could help you find an apartment if you don’t want to move in right away.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “You can certainly work at Sullivan Construction.”

  He was so very tempting. But that was how she had ended up where she was. By not trusting her intuition.

  Suddenly needing something to do with her hands, she leaned forward and picked up the wineglass. How could she make him understand? “I told you about Liam.”

  “The bastard.” He nodded. “I’m not him.”

  “God.” She blinked. “I know that. But I need you to understand.”

  He plowed a hand into his hair and left it there. “I’m listening.”

  “He would…” Thunder exploded and lightning slashed, making her jump and the lights flicker. Fitting. “We met at a munch. And it took him a couple of months to call me. We dated, and we occasionally went to a club in Austin. He seemed wonderful, thoughtful.” In retrospect, he wasn’t always courteous, sometimes short-tempered with servers and coworkers. Always, she’d made excuses for him. “We were together for over two years before I moved in with him.” And she’d never considered getting a place together. Maybe it was intuition, but she’d always wanted to be able to escape. “After what my mom went through with my dad, I was determined not to get involved with someone controlling and manipulative. I needed to be sure.”

  Slowly Mason lowered his hand.

  Rain fell in earnest, a rush, to churn things up and sweep the world clean. “I moved in with him. Not a dependent kind of thing. I kept my job and paid half of the bills. At first it was nice because we could scene more often without one of us going home afterward. Over time, things changed. It was so subtle I didn’t see it right away. He started asking when I’d be home from the gym or from grocery shopping, and then he’d be angry if I was five minutes later. It became stifling. For him, though, it wasn’t enough. He wanted to know where I w
as, who I was with. Then to assuage him, I had to keep my phone’s GPS active so he could track my every move.”

  Mason dropped back into his chair.

  “He found reasons to punish me. I’m a bit embarrassed about this, but I was able to rationalize it because we had a BDSM relationship. There are rules, right? And all couples are different. I told myself I was having difficulty adjusting to living with someone after being on my own for so long. Maybe I wasn’t trying hard enough.” She swirled the stem and watched the wine become a cyclone.

  Still, Mason remained quiet, letting her go on—or not—at her pace.

  It took her a while to decide to tell him the whole story, or as much as she’d told Fiona. The anguish, the fear, that was all hers to keep. “One night, his friend was over. Liam made me kneel—even though his friend wasn’t in the lifestyle.” Her voice cracked at the humiliation as she went on. “He chained my collar to a hook in the wall. And…uhm…they went out for the night.”

  He leaped to his feet. “Jesus Christ, Hannah.”

  “He let me go the next morning.”

  “The next…? What the fuck?”

  “So it’s not about you, Mason.”

  Another bolt of lightning shredded the atmosphere, illuminating the raw fury in his eyes.

  “Fiona caught the first flight out. I picked her up at the airport. I left my phone at the office so Liam wouldn’t suspect anything. We grabbed my essentials and that was all. She stayed with me at a hotel for a few days while I found a new place to live. I changed my phone number. And I’ve avoided scening so that I didn’t run into him.”

  “I… Hannah…”

  Raindrops ran like her sudden tears. “I need to go.”

  “Damn it. Look. Listen.” He curled and uncurled his fist. “I won’t make you stay. But I’d prefer it if you didn’t go out in this weather. You can have the bed, and I’ll sleep in the guest room. Or you can have any room you want.”

  “I’m sorry.” It wasn’t possible for her to be this distraught. She hardly knew him. Tell that to my heart. “I know you paid a lot of money.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not about the money. Not even a little bit. You’re priceless to me, Hannah.”

  If he hadn’t been so wonderful, she might have really enjoyed their time together. But he wanted too much from her. And the worst thing was? She was tempted to give it to him.

  “Stay the rest of the night?” he invited. “If you want, I’ll just leave you alone with Bing Crosby. Then in the morning, I’ll take you to Fiona’s. Or, hell, you can call yourself a car. Whatever makes you feel safe.”

  The idea of running into the night was ridiculous. Fiona probably wasn’t home, and if she was, she’d be worried when Hannah showed up.

  Leaving in the morning made a lot more sense. Slowly, she nodded.

  “Thank you.” He exhaled a relieved sigh that told her how important her answer was to him. “Where would you like to sleep?” He extended a hand.

  She took it, knowing she was making a choice she would regret later but needed right now.

  Without her saying a word, he knew what she needed.

  Upstairs, in his bed, he made sweet love to her. Then held her while she curled against him and cried.

  “So when are you coming back to New Orleans?” Fiona asked. “Did you check your email from the Quarter? They just announced there’s going to be a Western night theme next month that sounds like fun. Poker tables. Cowboys in chaps or”—she shuddered excitedly—“maybe tight-ass jeans. Polished boots.” She licked salt from the rim of her margarita glass. “There’s going to be a bucking bronc.”

  Hannah grinned. That would be worth seeing. Undoubtedly, Tops would require their subs to climb aboard, wearing next to nothing. A club in Austin had one of the mechanical contraptions, and it was a ton of fun to watch, even when the participants were fully clothed. At the Quarter, the people who climbed aboard would be mostly naked when they were flailing about.

  “Shelby said she might come, if David will take her.”

  As far as Hannah knew, the two were friends, and David had recently gone through a traumatic experience with a sub he’d fallen in love with. “What’s with those two, anyway?”

  “Long story. Want to hear it?”

  “Yes.” Anything to avoid talking or thinking about her own lonely life. “Absolutely I do.”

  This was Hannah’s birthday weekend. When Fiona learned Hannah had no plans and was going to spend the weekend alone, she acted. With her usual take-charge manner, Fiona bought an airline ticket, and she’d purchased a luxury hotel and spa package in downtown Austin.

  This morning, they’d had room service for breakfast. Then, over cappuccinos at a funky, hip coffee shop, Fiona had entertained her with details of her now three-week-old relationship with Mr. Snorebox. Fiona said he bought her a huge box of earplugs as a gift, and the two had settled into a routine, spending most of their time together, going to the club every weekend.

  There was something different about Fiona. She smiled more, laughed faster…with a man she labeled as somewhat boring. It turned out that his steadiness was something she’d wanted all along. It grounded her, helped her focus.

  They’d spent the rest of the day being pampered with a catered lunch made from organic ingredients, then facials and massages.

  Afterward, they’d dressed up and headed to Sixth Street for dinner and to listen to live music.

  Now they were back at the hotel. Like many others, they’d gone to the lobby bar, but since it was too noisy to talk, they’d decided to have a second cocktail at the much-quieter upstairs bar overlooking the city.

  “They’re never going to be more than friends. Shelby doesn’t like to go to the club by herself, which causes her a conundrum, right? Because she’s with David, other Doms don’t approach her.” Fiona shrugged. “When he was with Janine—what a bitch—he didn’t see Shelby. But since the bitch—I mean Janine—dumped him for Master Trevor, they’re hanging out again. Anyway. You and Mason should come with me and Andrew.”

  Hannah stirred her margarita and stalled. This was the moment she’d been dreading.

  “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you change the subject every time I mention Mason’s name. You did it when I was taking you to the airport, so I thought you needed some time to process. What happened between the two of you?”

  True to his word, Mason had driven Hannah to Fiona’s house first thing Sunday morning. Fortunately, she’d still been with Mr. Snorebox, so Hannah had spent the day alone. She checked on her flight, packed her bag, spent too much time thinking, wishing things were different. When Fiona bounced into the house, Hannah pretended she’d just arrived.

  “Was he an awful Dom? Is that why Deborah dumped him?”

  “No.” Not at all. “He was…”

  “I’ve seen him play. Amazing, right?”

  “That’s a good word.” So much so that she couldn’t stop thinking about him, getting out her vibrator and replaying each of their moments together.

  “So, how is this a problem? Why don’t you want to see him again? Or wait! Did he not like you? That asshole! No taste at all!”

  Hannah drew her untouched drink toward herself. “He’s not an asshole.”

  Fiona pointed upward. “I knew it!”

  “In fact…”

  “In fact?”

  This admission was hard. “I liked him.”

  The triumphant smile faded from Fiona’s face, and she drew her eyebrows together in concern. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter, as if she was finally realizing her friend had been hiding something. “What happened, Han?”

  “He asked me to stay.”

  “He asked you… Seriously? Wow. I mean, I get that he might come see you or that he’d invite you down again. I’m not surprised that he was into you. But asking you to stay? That’s serious. And that’s quite a departure for the One Night Dom.”

  “It scared me.” And from the beginning, she’d
been honest about what she was offering.

  “Okay. So…”

  Hannah smiled. Fiona always spoke like that when she was trying to figure out the right thing to say.

  “Things must have gone well, right?”

  Trying to decide how much to say, Hannah took her first sip of the margarita. The bartender had been more than generous with the tequila, and she coughed. “Wow. This will get all my secrets out of me.”

  “I tipped him well.”

  Hannah laughed. “I believe you.”

  “It’s true.” Fiona settled back and waited without pushing further.

  “He’s easy to be with. On Saturday morning, we went and looked at a house with his Mom and her boyfriend. He didn’t think I’d want to spend time with his family, but it was so much fun walking through the house. It’s in terrible disrepair. But so much potential.” She wished she knew whether or not Judith had bought it.

  She took another sip from her margarita. “He’s working on a pitch for a renovation-type of program for cable.”

  “That would be cool,” Fiona said. “Maybe I can get a walk-on part. Like someone who shows up for all the open houses or something.”

  Hannah, too, would love to be part of it.

  “Were there any red flags that bothered you?”

  “Other than the fact he wanted me to uproot my life?”

  “Okay, I’ll grant you, that’s a lot. If it hadn’t been for Liam, would you consider it?”

  “It’s impossible to discount that, though, isn’t it?” She sighed. “I moved slow with Liam, and it didn’t help. It turns out I never really knew him.”

  “Has it occurred to you that there were warning signs? Your intuition was screaming at you. Maybe that’s why it took you so long to move in. You kept telling me you weren’t ready. When I asked why not, your answers were vague.”

  Hannah considered that idea. Liam hadn’t always been forthcoming about his whereabouts, and she’d caught occasional glimpses of anger that he’d shoved away quickly. No one was perfect. So she had pushed away her apprehensions.