Tucker’s Claim

by Sarah McCarty

  She didn’t know whether to moan or beg, so she encased both in the syllables of his name. “Tucker.”

  His teeth found her shoulder. “Just breathe now, relax around it.”

  She did, shuddering as the aching sense of fullness centered the heat in her womb, moaning as his cock, thick and hot, brushed the inside of her thigh.

  “When I come back, I’m going to make this signal.” He touched two fingers to his thigh. “When I do, you’re going to pull up your skirt and bend over.”

  She made the token protest because, as an independent woman, she needed to, but inside she melted at the thought of him being in control of her sexually. Another throbbing bolt of lust rocked her. She whimpered and he chuckled.

  “Yes, baby, it’s going to be as hot as you’re imagining.” The mattress rustled as he stood. Experimentally, she moved her legs. The toy shifted within her that tiny bit necessary to cause her muscles to flex deliciously around it. His fingers grazed the hair guarding her pussy. She was so sensitive that she could feel the heat from his skin. Her pussy ached and flowered, straining for deeper contact. Parting her legs wider, she begged silently for something she didn’t understand. He chuckled and tapped the base of the toy. The percussions shot straight to her core.

  “Scoot over here.”

  Scooting meant moving. Moving created all kinds of unique sensations that sent all sorts of conflicting messages to her brain. Too much. Too little. More. This time, when his fingers tapped the base of the device, they lingered, took hold, twisted slightly, before pressing up. A high-pitched cry lodged in her throat as his finger swirled over her clit. Every muscle pulled tight. Every sense waited for the next stroke, the next touch…Oh, heavens!

  Never could she imagine a lover taking his woman the way Tucker was taking her. Never could she imagine a woman would enjoy such a taking, but she was apparently a woman of varied tastes, because she loved the feeling of fullness, loved the tension spiraling through her as Tucker continued the game.

  He turned her over. Her eyes flew wide as the toy made its presence vividly known in this position, the stretching burn blending with the flare of desire. His hands caught hers, pressing them into the mattress by her head. His hair fell about her face. The bullet charm around his neck tickled the hollow of her throat.

  “You’re mine.”

  Yes. His.

  He stood. She lay as he left her. Dawn crept through the window, caressing his strong body in its pale light, touching with a lover’s attention on the cut of the muscle above his hip, the jut of his cock. She ran her tongue over her lips, remembering his taste. He reached out. It never occurred to her not to take his hand, not to accept his lead as he tugged her to the edge of the bed. The toy shifted. It was too much.

  “Easy, baby. Just give yourself a minute.”

  She didn’t think she could. The possession was too complete. Too perfect. “I don’t like this.”

  The softest of kisses skimmed her temple. “You’re too new to this to know whether you like it or not.”

  “But thee do?”

  “Hell, yes.” His hand slid over her hair to the nape of her neck. With a tug, he pulled her forward. The device rocked within her, stretching her in new ways. The nerve endings in her rear quivered with anticipation and need. Her clit ached. Subtle pressure at the back of her neck urged her toward his cock. She knew what he wanted. She wanted it, too. He caught her hair, tilting her head until her mouth was precisely aligned. His actions were rougher than normal, less controlled. The roughness was also in his voice. He was as excited as she was. “You’re going to like this better, too.”

  How could he know that? How could he know that this game he was playing appealed to a side of her that she didn’t know existed? How could he know how her body ached so much that all it would take for her to explode was a touch to her clit. Just one more…

  He didn’t give it. Instead, he pulled her forward to his cock. She held his gaze as she ran her tongue all around the broad head.

  “Open for me.” She did, but only a little, making him work for it, loving the sensual flare of his nostrils, the dominance in his grip as he pulled her forward. She laughed as his cock slid over her tongue. He growled.

  She held his gaze, matching his passion with her own, challenging him even as she submitted. His thick cock filled her mouth. The thick toy filled her ass. And her love for him filled her senses. It was too much, but not enough. His hand in her hair held her for the thrust of his cock. His fingers stroked her cheeks in an intense gentleness that belied the violence of his passion. He came quickly, his thumbs pressing against the corner of her mouth, his gaze holding hers. A man of violence, tenderness. She closed her eyes, unable to bear the bittersweet hope that maybe he was also a man capable of change.

  The touch of his finger against the diamond-hard point of her nipple snapped her eyes open. He was staring at her nipples with a strange look in his eyes. “You’d look pretty with these pierced.” With a soft pinch, he centered the fire that burned in her blood. Her breath caught in her throat. “Very pretty.”

  Women pierced their nipples? She blinked up at him, unable to speak with his cock in her mouth. His finger curled under her nipple, squeezed.

  She moaned and shuddered, rubbing her thighs together, needing him so much.

  “Come here, moonbeam.”

  “Here” was up, into his arms, cradled against his chest. The toy shifted and she cried out at the perfection of the sensation that stopped just short of what she needed.

  He laid her down. The sheets were cool against her overheated skin. His big hand skimmed over her body. His lips met hers in a sweet kiss, while his hand on her hip steadied her through the worst of the tension. His forehead dropped to hers. This close, the only signs of his smile were the creases by the corners of his eyes, but she could feel it all around her, like the most cherished of hugs.

  “Better?”

  She nodded. She did love his smile.

  “Want more?”

  What could she say except the truth? “Please.”

  “Good. Lean back on your hands and spread your legs.”

  “Why?”

  The sense of amusement increased. He kissed the tip of her nose. “Do it and find out.”

  She pretended to hesitate, looking up at him from beneath her lashes. “Do thee dare me?”

  “Do you want me to?”

  “Hmm…” She drew her knee up slowly, letting it fall to the side. “Maybe.”

  He laughed. His finger teased a path from her neck, down over her collarbone and between her breasts, trailing over her belly, detouring for a trip around her belly button before wandering lower. His dark eyes holding hers, he flicked her clit. “I double-dog dare you.”

  Oh, heavens! Fire burned through her, arching her back. Once more. She only needed him to do it once more. Her hips found nothing but the kiss of air. She rocked up on the mattress, moving the toy within her. It was almost enough.

  Tucker’s big hand spread across her stomach, holding her in place. “Moonbeam, I think we talked about you coming without permission that first night.”

  “Thee talked about it,” she gasped.

  “Does this mean that you intend to fight me?”

  As if she could. “I intend my pleasure.”

  His drawl rolled over her in a dark promise. “I intend for your pleasure, too, but I want far more than the tiny one you could have right now.”

  Tiny? She was going to explode!

  His fingers slipped between her thighs, sliding through her slick folds, rubbing delicately until she caught his wrist, not sure whether she wanted him to stop or continue. “Tucker…”

  Something cool and metallic closed on her clit. The first bite of pain caught her by surprise. The second sent shivers down her spine. Wonderfully erotic shivers. Oh, heavens! How did he do this to her? Her fingernails dug into his shoulder as she looked down between them. He held what looked like a garnet earring. His fingers twisted and th
e pressure on her clit grew, one tiny bit at a time.

  She couldn’t look away as he applied the intimate jewelry, couldn’t hold still. “What’s that?”

  He didn’t seem to mind, just moved with her, keeping the pleasure growing. “A clamp.”

  “What for?”

  “To help you with control.”

  “I don’t need control. I need to come.” The clamp bit that last little amount, sending the searing pleasure outward. Pleasure tightened her breasts and raced up her arms in cold chills. “Tucker…”

  His hand came around her shoulder, supporting her while he rubbed her stomach, helping her through the transition.

  “I’m right here, sweet. Just relax and give it a minute.”

  In a minute, she wouldn’t be able to bear it. “I can’t.”

  His fingers slipped down to her mound, pressing just above her pussy. “Yes, you can. Just a minute more. Like the toy, it takes a little getting used to, but it’s going to feel very good to you shortly.”

  From the message her pussy was sending her brain, she couldn’t imagine this getting any better. She could feel her control slipping away with every beat of her pulse. He was always taking her control.

  “Take it off.”

  “Later.”

  She dug her nails into his arms as her orgasm built, froze. “Now.”

  His kiss was lovingly firm. A denial. “Stand up.”

  She’d fall flat on her face if she did. “I can’t.”

  “Sure you can. All you need to do is put your feet on the floor and stand.”

  Easy for him to say, but right now she didn’t feel as if she had control of anything, let alone her muscles. If the chaos didn’t involve so much pleasure, she’d be scared.

  His fingers brushed her cheek, curved under her chin and his right hand took hers. “I’ll help.”

  She could see from the expectant gleam in his eyes that he knew what was going to happen when she stood. And was looking forward to it. She wanted to kiss him. She just wanted…him.

  When she was vertical, the toy shifted position and the clamp pulled under the swing of the garnet. She almost went down under the sensation. Tucker caught her other hand, drew both out to the side, until she was suspended on the pleasure again—so much but not enough.

  When she looked up, he wasn’t looking at her, but down.

  “Now that is a pretty sight.”

  She couldn’t breathe from the desire raging inside her. Her nipples were swollen and ripe, her thighs were wet. She needed relief. Tucker did not have the look of a man ready to satisfy her.

  You’ll come when I want you to.

  “Of what?” she managed to groan. “The sight of a woman about to do murder?”

  “You’re a pacifist, remember?”

  Her ass throbbed, her womb ached and her whole body burned with unfulfilled desire.

  “I’m thinking I would be forgiven for this transgression.”

  On a laugh, Tucker pulled her up against his chest. The heat of his skin against hers was pure bliss. “I told you I’d own you for the time you’re mine.”

  This was more than owning. This was a branding. A manipulation of her senses and her mind.

  “You did.” His cock, thick and hot, pressed into her stomach. Her pussy twitched and swelled in silent invitation.

  “No objections?”

  She had a lot of objections, but none of them were as strong as the joy of belonging to Tucker. “Not yet.”

  Hooking his hand around her neck, he pulled her up onto her toes. His hair fell around them in a curtain of darkness as he kissed her. “Good.”

  She didn’t know how good it was, but she was hoping it would be very good. “For this, thee must make it very good.”

  He let her down easy. She found her balance as he let her go. She watched disbelievingly as he walked across the room and shrugged on his shirt. The smile he tossed over his shoulder was positively wicked. “It will be.”

  “When?”

  “When I come back.”

  When he came back? “When will that be?”

  He made short work of buttoning his shirt before stepping into his pants. As he tucked the shirttails into his pants, he said, “When I get here.”

  He said that as if the heat of passion weren’t in his eyes, as if his cock didn’t strain the fly of his brown wool pants. He said that as if he truly was leaving her like this.

  “What if someone comes?”

  “Smile and say hello.”

  As if she didn’t have a toy up her butt and the beautiful jewel dangling from her aching clit? She imagined the scene, the forbidden meeting, the tradition. Lust whipped through her. She caught the bureau for support. A whimper escaped.

  “I think I won’t answer the door.”

  Tucker grabbed his saddlebag and settled it over his shoulder before picking up his rifle. “That might be a good idea.”

  The nonchalance he managed in the face of the passion arcing between them had her snapping at his back as he reached the bedroom door, “And maybe I’ll lock the door against you!”

  He paused, his hand on the doorknob, and turned back. With an almost anticipatory smile, he tugged his black hat lower, casting his eyes into shadow. “You can if you want, but I’d just bust it down.”

  Three hours later, Sally Mae could completely understand the frayed nerves that led people to violence. Her body, which she’d always thought such a wonderful, stable gift from God, had turned traitor. Under Tucker’s tutelage, the hum of arousal was her constant companion, egged on by the clamp. It swung with every move, maintaining her desire at a restless pitch with each erotic tug. And, with every shift, the toy reminded her of Tucker’s possession. Despite the fact that she could end her torture with the removal of both devices, she didn’t, couldn’t. She was a wanton and a sinner, but she was also Tucker’s. Nothing proved that more than the heightened state of her senses as she awaited his return. She slapped the dust cloth on the parlor table as she watched for him through the window. The man would be lucky if she didn’t knock him to the floor and have her way with him as soon as he walked in the door and to heck with whatever plans he had. Lord, why didn’t he return? To take her mind off the agonizingly slow progress of time, she started to sing. And then stopped just as abruptly when she realized it was a hymn.

  “Don’t stop on my account.”

  She spun around, her body reacting wildly to the sight of Tucker, standing so big and tall in the doorway, his hair loose about his rough-hewn face, his silver eyes studying her with all the heat she could wish. The table rattled as she bumped it.

  “I did not hear thee come in.”

  “Good.” He smiled, revealing even, white teeth. She wanted to run her tongue over each of them. He stepped into the room. Not for the first time, she marveled at how gracefully he moved for a big man. He reached over and tugged the curtains closed. There was power in the line of his torso, the flex of his buttocks. She bit her lip as fresh cream coated her thighs.

  “What will the neighbors think?”

  It was a pitiful defense and he obliterated it with simple logic, encased in a knowing smile. “That you were up late with a patient and are taking a nap.”

  Very deliberately, he placed two fingers against his thigh. She dropped her dusting cloth. When she hesitated, his smile faded, and he made the gesture again. Feeling awkward, exposed and vulnerable, she turned and leaned over the padded arm of the dark green couch.

  “That’s a good start.”

  The rough edge of his drawl caught on her wild side, bringing it forward. “Now, pull those skirts up and present yourself for my pleasure.”

  Oh, dear God, he’d meant it. Balancing herself on her hips, breathless with excitement, Sally Mae reached back and started pulling up her skirt. It wasn’t easy. Between her skirt and her petticoat there was a lot of material. She expected Tucker to get impatient, but he didn’t. For all the minutes it took to gather everything up—first past her calves, the
backs of her knees, then her thighs and finally, those last six inches, which exposed her fully—she could feel him watching. And still he didn’t move, just let the tension build. When she was almost ready to scream, a floorboard creaked. A small, startled gasp broke past her control. His palm grazed the inside of her thigh just above her knee. “Very pretty.”

  His hand continued the climb up her thigh, the rough calluses abrading her skin deliciously. A little flick of the charm, a chuckle at her start, and then one hand braced at the small of her back while the fingers of the other hooked around the base of the toy. “Push back.”

  She did, shuddering in anticipation. This time Tucker didn’t tease, just pulled it out with a steady draw that burned perfectly. As her inner muscles stretched over the fullest part, he paused, keeping her stretched to the fullest, holding her on the knife edge of sensation. Her fingers clenched in a pillow as she struggled to sustain the position in the wake of the tiny explosions detonating in her womb.

  “Tucker! Hurry,” she groaned.

  “Hell, yes.” The toy came free with a shocking quickness. Before she could catch her breath, something cool and slick was spread inside her and then his thick cock tucked into the swollen entrance.

  “Keep pushing out.”

  The toy had been big, but he was bigger. She took the slow, burning push of his cock through her tight muscles with an exultant cry of his name. His fingers bit into her shoulders as he drove forward again. Too much. Too little. She shook her head. Not enough, but so much.

  The weighted clamp swung along with every thrust of his hips, teasing her with the possibility that she could come, even as it denied her. His cock worked her ass deeper than before, harder than before. Every sense rippled with the delight of his possession. Every nerve ending wanted more. So much more. She grunted and pushed back. “Harder.”

  “Hold still.” The hand in the middle of her back kept her put for the steady rhythm he wouldn’t alter. She bucked, trying to force the issue. He grunted and his hand came down in a stinging swat to her right buttock. All that did was add more heat to the fire consuming her.