His to Have (A Claimed Story Book 2) Read online

  My mind is saying that this is wrong. It’s telling me to scream my safe word—husband—and make it all end. My body, however, is strung tighter than it’s ever been. My pussy has never been as empty, never needed a man more than I need Victor Cross, and never been this wet or wanting.

  My body wins as I fumble for the binding holding my wrists and turn, rolling onto my back.

  “Shit,” I mumble as my ass hits the comforter, the rough material biting into my freshly punished skin. Why wasn’t I honest? He told me to be honest. The bed shifts with his weight.

  “Open your eyes.”

  I hadn’t even realized they were closed when I open them. Right in front of me, kneeling between my unashamedly spread legs, is Victor. The length of his cock is in his hand as he strokes the tightly stretched skin. The tip shines with pre-cum and I imagine sucking it with my lips, bringing him pleasure, more than he could have had with that gag.

  “Tell me, kitten, what do you want.”

  “Your cock, Sir.” The words come too easily. I lift my knees giving him my pussy, presenting it to him. It’s his and after this, it always will be.

  Leaning toward me, his weight on his forearms on either side of my face, Victor stares deep into my eyes, silently daring me to speak, to say my safe word.

  I can’t.

  I can’t do anything but look back into his dark eyes, and then I remember to look away, to submit to his desire. When I do, when my lids lower in reverence to this man, a moan comes from my throat. More sounds that I’ve never heard spill from my lips as Sir enters me, filling me, stretching me. It’s for his pleasure, but it’s mine too. With each thrust he pushes me toward the headboard. I try to lift my throbbing ass, but I can’t, not with the way he’s taking me, ravaging me, ruthlessly pounding into me. The pain and pleasure mount, piling one on top of the other as energy flows through me, curling my toes and causing my fingernails to bite into the palms of my hands. After only a few deep and savage thrusts, my body comes undone.

  Fireworks ignite behind my partially closed eyes. I scream, but I don’t know what I’m saying. The world is out of kilter, or maybe it’s finally right. Victor doesn’t stop or even slow to allow me to enjoy the down side of my orgasm. He continues to fuck, brutally pounding. He isn’t pleasing me, though I’ve never been so pleased. This is about him, about his pleasure. The realization propels me back up the figurative mountain until my body tenses and we both come undone.

  He grunts as he fills me with his cum, over and over, combining it with mine until it’s leaking out of me like a stream. I don’t know how many times he used me, how many times I came, or even how many ways. But by the time I fall asleep, I know without a doubt he’s marked me in a way I’ve never been marked. I know I can’t go back to what I had before.

  When I wake, my arms are no longer bound. Instead, I’m draped over Victor, or the man I call Sir. I’m not sure I can ever call him Master, but I never thought Sir would be in my vocabulary either. My cheek is lying upon his solid chest and his strong arm is wrapped protectively around my shoulder. Despite the ache in my ass and cunt, I’ve never felt safer than I do at this moment.

  I raise my head, push my hair away, and look at his features. His narrow nose, chiseled jaw with a day’s beard growth. How had I not noticed how handsome he is?

  His dark brown eyes open and a slight grin comes to his lips. I lower my lids knowing that seeing him smile fills me with relief and delight. I want him to be happy.

  “Sir, may I use the bathroom?”

  “Hurry, and no pleasuring yourself. If you do, I won’t do it when you get back.”

  My cheeks rise as I scurry to the edge of the bed. My entire body aches with the aftereffects of his punishment and fucking. I’m not sure which one caused the most ache. All I know is I want more.

  When I return, Sir pulls me down and moves me so I’m straddling his torso. “I want your ass,” he says, “but first, I want to watch you fuck me.”

  “Isn’t that topping from the bottom?”

  I jump as he swats my sore behind. “It’s not when I tell you to do it. Now, kitten, get on my cock and start moving. I want to watch your tits swing and feel your cunt squeeze me.”

  I grasp his cock beneath me, my thumb and middle finger unable to touch as I hold his girth. Lining the tip up with my entrance, I slowly begin to slide down, but before I can, Sir grabs my hips and roughly pulls me down.

  “Shit,” I say as I adjust to his size.

  “Kitten, you’re so fucking wet, I just slid right between your pussy lips.”

  I lower my eyes, knowing he is right.

  He crosses his arms behind his head and grins. “Fuck me, kitten. When you’re done I’ll let you cook me breakfast. If you make me cum, I’ll even let you eat.”

  Tingles radiate from my head to my toes as my knees start to flex. The friction is phenomenal, but that isn’t my goal. I don’t concentrate on climbing the mountain. My only goal is making sure he’s happy. It’s not because I’m worried about food. I know he won’t let me starve. I want him to cum because I want to please him, more than I want sustenance.

  It isn’t until his back arches and neck strains that I let myself feel the burn. As he grips my hips again, I know we’re going to cum together. It’s when he roars that I let loose, my pussy milking his cock, encouraging his cum, wanting every last drop.

  Once we’re done and I’m collapsed upon his chest, Sir smoothes my hair away from my face. “Kitten, you realize we aren’t using birth control?”

  “Yes.”

  “You could get pregnant with my baby.”

  I nod. “It’s what you want.”

  “It is,” he confirms. “What do you want?”

  “To be with you, forever.”

  “I love you, kitten.”

  I lift my head, letting our eyes briefly meet. “I’ve always loved you, Vic.”

  “Hmm,” Dr. Kizer says as we walk into her office hand in hand.

  Erika’s cheeks redden as she leans against my shoulder.

  “Dr. Kizer,” I say in greeting.

  The doctor’s smile broadens. “Tell me, Mr. and Mrs. Cross: how was the cabin?”

  I squeeze Erika’s hand. “I think it was just what the doctor ordered.”

  “Ms. Ellis?” the doctor asks.

  “Erika Cross, Mrs. Victor Cross,” my wife says. “I’m having them change my name at the station too. Soon it will be Erika Cross on channel fifty-three. I had some notion that I couldn’t continue in my career if I used my married name, but now I realize what that did to Vic. We’ve been married for almost five years, I want everyone to know.”

  “Victor, how do you feel about that?”

  “I think I have the only woman I’ve ever loved next to me at this moment.”

  Dr. Kizer shrugs. “My fee includes use of the cabin. If you two are all done there, we can adjust—“

  “No,” Erika and I say together. Though a smile tugs at my lips, I narrow my eyes at my wife in an unspoken warning.

  Her blue eyes sparkle as she lowers her lids. “I’m sorry, Sir. It’s your decision.”

  “Doctor, we’d like to use the cabin again next weekend.”

  She grins. “Very good, I’m sure you still have a few things to explore.”

  “Yes, we do.”

  I squeeze Erika’s hand. We never made it to the canes nor did I take her ass. It was a lot for our first time as Dom and sub. I wanted her to be comfortable. Now, with the pink on her cheeks, and downcast eyes, I don’t want to hold back...fuck me!

  Yes, next weekend we will have a lot to explore.

  “Oh, Sir!”

  Victor’s cock teases my cunt, rubbing over my clit and moving in and out of my entrance.

  “Please,” I beg, wanting him deeper, wanting more.

  “I told you, kitten, where I was going to fuck you and it’s not in this tight, warm pussy.”

  My throat dries as I try to swallow. I’ve gone along with everything since
last weekend. And while Victor made me nervous on our first drive to the cabin, everything since has been as he promised. It’s my fantasies played out in real life. Over the last week we’ve talked and said things we should have said before. More than that, these new roles have given our marriage something we’ve never had—total trust and freedom.

  Freedom to be open with one another with our bodies and our hearts. Freedom to give the kind of trust it takes to allow a man to do what Victor has done and is doing to me. My wrists are bound to the bondage table, but instead of lying flat, my ankles are bound, attached with short chains that hook to my wrists. I’m on my knees and shoulders with my cheek pressed to the table and my ass in the air. I couldn’t straighten my legs if I wanted to.

  His finger moves in and out of my cunt. Each time it’s gone, I tremble at the loss. Not only that, but each time it leaves my pussy, it gets closer and closer to my tight hole.

  “Do you trust me, kitten?”

  “Yes, I do, Sir.” My answer gives me the strength to let him continue.

  Cold gel combines with my cum as Victor lubricates my hole.

  “When you get used to this,” he explains, “we won’t need the gel. You’re always so fucking wet. But now, I want to make it easy. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  His words seem ironic, being as he’s just flogged my ass and thighs, but I understand. I understand the difference between intentional pain for pleasure and pain for harm. The flogging was to clear my mind, to get me ready, and bring my focus on him, my husband, where it belongs.

  It worked. Nothing else exists beyond the walls of this cabin.

  I whimper as his finger penetrates the tight ring of muscle.

  “Then do it,” he says. “Trust me.”

  The flogging left my ass and thighs tingling while building my want. I long for relief. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and concentrate on his movements—the way his finger moves in and out of my ass and the way his other hand works my clit. He knows my body better than I do. He knows just how much I can take.

  Higher and higher he strums me until my toes curl.

  “Not yet.”

  I hold my breath as the tip of his cock presses against my tight ring of muscles.

  “Relax and I’ll let you cum.”

  I’ve learned his meanings. My Sir is really saying that if I don’t relax, he won’t let me cum. And as much as I want air right now, I want to cum.

  “Who owns you, kitten? Who do you belong to?”

  “To you, Sir.”

  “And what do you want?” His cock pushes harder applying more pressure.

  I push back toward him as much as I can in my bindings. “To cum. Please, Sir, fuck my tight hole and make me cum.”

  He’d said he wouldn’t do it until I begged. I never thought I would, but I did. I’d do anything for him.

  I suck in a breath and ball my fists as he plunges forward, taking my ass and making it his. Tears leak to the table as he moves, thrust after thrust, until the rhythm is right and my body accepts the invasion. His warmth covers my freshly punished skin. My thoughts are monopolized by the fiery burn of his cock in my ass and pleasure of his fingers in my pussy. Higher and tighter until I see explosions of light and I cum apart. Moments later Victor does too, filling my ass with his seed until it can’t take any more and drizzles down my leg.

  He pulls out and kisses my holes. Next he unfastens the chains and my legs relax. When he rolls me over, his expression takes my breath away. So much love and adoration. He smoothes back my hair, tucking a piece behind my ear and gently kisses my lips.

  “Kitten, you’re perfect and you’re mine—forever.”

  I’m too tired to speak. Instead, I smile and nod. He’s right.

  I am.

  I’m his to have and I’ve never been happier.

  TEN YEARS AGO

  "You're such an ass," Jess blurts out. Her tone sounds angry, but her volume is still low.

  I shrug with a smirk as I heave my backpack higher on my shoulder. As we step through the front doors of our high school, the onslaught of the warm Missouri sun causes me to squint my eyes. For a few steps I think about how to answer her, what to say. If she were a guy I'd have the perfect response. I'd say that I wasn't the ass, but Maura Sharpe had a fine ass and I'd fucked that too.

  But Jess isn't a guy, and even though she's my best friend, I'm confident she doesn't want that much detail. I can see her in my imagination scrunching her cute little nose and after hitting me halfheartedly saying, 'Gross, TMI!'

  Trying to avoid her manhandling—something I wouldn't take from anyone else—I start to reply when she purposely bumps her shoulder against mine, her tiny frame filled with enough hostility to almost bounce me from the sidewalk. I grin. So much for my attempt to avoid her physical aggression.

  Catching my balance as car after car peels past, determined to leave the parking lot before the line begins to form at the stoplight, I stare down at her and with a gleam in my eyes, ask, "Are you trying kill me?"

  Jess shakes her head. "Maura? Maura?" Each time she asks, echoing the name belonging to her friend and my latest fuck, her voice gets louder and the name more exaggerated.

  I hit the unlock on my truck as Jess goes around to the passenger side.

  Once we're both inside, I start the truck and immediately roll down the windows. Missouri weather has serious multiple-personality issues—freezing one day, sweltering the next. It’s like it has as much trouble as I do deciding what it wants.

  Jess lifts her long blonde hair and directs the air conditioning vent in her direction.

  "What do you want me to say?" I finally ask as I back out of the space, barely missing two girls walking with their heads together, too lost in their conversation to realize they're about to become road kill.

  As my bumper moves in their direction, one of them turns toward me, but as soon as she recognizes my truck, her anger turns to a smile and her eyes search for mine in the side mirror.

  "Hi Ashton," she calls with the telltale flick of her neck and a finger wave. "Call me."

  I wave at the same time I see Jess's head shake in my peripheral vision. As I ease the truck into the line of traffic, I say a silent prayer that the girl won't try to come up to my open window.

  Jess cranes her neck over her shoulder. "Isn't she a freshman?"

  "Is she?"

  "Jeeze, Ash. You really are a manwhore. You know that?"

  I lift my brows. "No, Jess, I'm not a whore. Whores get paid. I willingly share my talents with those in need. I think that's called a humanitarian."

  We finally make our way out of the parking lot and onto the side streets and with a little acceleration comes a nice breeze to cool the cab. Admittedly, it works better than my AC. But one day I won't be driving a beat-up old truck. One day, I'll have a car to go along with my body and personality.

  "Maura's my friend," Jess says.

  "Maura's a big girl. She knew what she was doing. Actually, she knew—"

  Jess lifts her hand. "Stop. You know our deal. No details. I don't want to know about the little freshman or Maura."

  "Well, let me just say that Maura is much more experienced."

  "Noted. But you know she just broke up with Matt. The last thing she needs is you using her for a one-night stand."

  I reach over and squeeze Jess's leg. "You know me. I don't use girls. They come to me."

  "Because you're so freaking fantastic in the sack?"

  My cheek rises, creating my signature cocky, lopsided grin. "That is the word on the street."

  She sighs and lays her head against the seat. "Is that all you want?"

  I look over at my best friend. There's something about Jess that makes her different than every other girl I've ever known. Maybe it's that we've known each other since we were kids. Maybe it's that we know everything about one another. Maybe it's that we swore never to lie to one other, and we haven't. I'm not sure of the reason, but for the first time since I was balls deep
in Maura Sharpe, I feel a little bad about it.

  Which is strange.

  I never feel regret.

  Euphoria, a fucking fantastic release as my dick explodes and some pussy squeezes it tight, yes, but never regret.

  "Jess, what is it?"

  She turns toward the open window, her hair blowing in the breeze and takes a minute before she answers. "I think it's that we're graduating in a few weeks. We're going off to college and we have friends getting married."

  "We also have friends with kids on the way. Do you want that to be you?"

  Jess looks at me for a minute and then turns back to the open window. "Someday."

  "Someday, but not now. Not at eighteen."

  After a sigh, she leans back against the seat. In the few seconds that passed, her fun smile, the one that has gotten us both in trouble more times than I can count is back. "Then Mr. Michaels, keep your cock in your pants."

  "Don't worry. I have a lifetime supply of wraps. I'm well practiced at safe sex."

  "It's just that Maura has been texting me all day. She's sure she's 'in love'. And by the way, 'you're the best.'" Her voice does this sing-song thing when she relays Maura's messages.

  "Oh, I am the best, but love? No way." I shake my head. "I told her the same thing I tell them all: I'm not a commitment kind of guy."

  "She mentioned that," Jess says. "She also asked me what your favorite color is. Your favorite food. Your favorite TV show...on and on. She's got it bad."

  I bypass our neighborhood and keep driving. It's easier walking away from someone if there's no connection. I should have followed my gut and told Maura no. I should have realized that her friendship with Jess would be an issue. But I swear, Maura wouldn't take no for an answer, and well, my dick wasn't saying no.

  "Where are we going?" Jess asks.

  "How about coffee?"

  She shakes her head. "No, I'm broke."

  "I'll buy." I offer, but we both know I don’t have much money either.

  "No. How about the lake? It's a beautiful afternoon."

  I nod, taking in the bright blue sky.

  A few minutes and a few dirt roads later, I park and turn off my truck. The lake isn't big and it's kind of hidden away. It's owned by some guy who doesn't even live close by. The old gate at the end of the lane that is supposed to keep people out has been permanently removed from its rusty hinges.