Page 25 of Claimed (The Captain’s Captive #2)

Jordan sealed his lips over hers, his desperation for her fueling his arousal as his cock sprang to full mast. Her mouth opened for his; her body soft in its submission beneath him as he lifted her up and pushed her back onto the bed, where he covered her body with his.

For once, Jordan didn’t bother to take off her dress; he just pushed up her skirt so he could grind the front of his body against her.

He pinned her wrists above her head with one hand and held her down, dominated her.

Trish whimpered and squirmed beneath him with pleasure, and it took Jordan only moments to undo the front of his pants and shove his cock inside her.

She let out a little scream as he did, the wet tightness of her pussy quivering around him in shock at the invasion of his body. Possessive urgency rose over him. Jordan would take his time with her after this but right now … right now he needed to fuck her. Kiss her. Possess her.

The hard thrusts of Jordan’s cock were different than usual; so much less precise in their rhythm, as if he’d lost his normal control.

His mouth devoured her, hand gripped tightly about her wrists, his hips moving against her as his cock slid in and out of her wet channel.

Trish writhed and cried out beneath him, meeting his thrusts as she exulted in the loss of his control.

At his obvious relief and joy at her decision.

She wrapped her legs around him and dug her heels into the backs of his legs, and Jordan growled low in his throat.

The next thing she knew, he was pulling out and flipping her over so he could plow into her from behind.

Trish was bent over before him on all fours, held in place by his hand pressing her wrists down into the mattress while his other hand held her hip to keep her lower body propped up to meet his thrusts.

Trish moaned and cried out as her pussy burned with growing pleasure and the friction of his cock sliding in and out of her.

Every thrust pressed his body against the base of the plug in her ass, sending delicious sensations ricocheting through her.

He’d changed positions because Trish had tried to take a tiny bit of control; tried to use her body to move his, and now she was in a position where the most she could do was back herself onto his cock.

Jordan hammered into her, hard and fast, pinning her down, dominating her completely, and Trish bowed her head, pressing her face to the mattress as ecstasy ran over her. She screamed as she came, her pussy spasming around him.

He let out a hoarse cry as he crouched over her, his hips slamming into her ass with his final thrusts.

“Mine,” he growled as his hold on her tightened possessively.

Trish cried out again as his cock throbbed inside her, heat flowing into her pussy with every spurt of cum.

Slowly, his weight bore her down to the mattress as his cock pulsed, until she was flattened beneath him, his forehead pressing against her upper back between her shoulders, his hand still on her wrists.

Trish’s breathing slowed as she lay there, warm and safe, beneath him.

After a few long moments, Jordan gave her a gentle kiss on her shoulder and moved away, pulling his softened cock from her body.

Trish rolled over onto her back and started to get up to move toward the bathroom, only to let out a little shriek as she found herself pulled back onto her back and Jordan scowling down above her.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his voice demanding.

Wide-eyed with surprise, Trish stared up at him. “To the bathroom to um …” She waved her hand at her messy pussy. “I need to clean up.”

Frowning, Jordan grabbed her hand, and, the next thing Trish knew, she was in a familiar position—cuffed to the headboard. It wasn’t a position she’d expected to be put in right now, and indignation and surprise bubbled up inside her as Jordan got up to head toward the bathroom.

“Why can’t I clean myself off?” Trish called after him, tugging at the chain on the wrist cuffs even though it would be useless. She wasn’t mad, exactly, just … frustrated and annoyed … and perturbed.

She’d agreed to stay; why was he chaining her up again? And why was some part of her relieved that her answer hadn’t changed his controlling ways? Relieved and aroused, despite her having just come. Or maybe she was getting used to multiple orgasms.

Jordan emerged from the bathroom, still scowling, with a washcloth in his hand. It would be damp and warm, ready to clean her. “Because I do that.”

He didn’t ask why she’d want to change it—typical Jordan—he just grabbed her ankle and pulled her legs open. Trish tried to squirm away.

“But I can do it!” she protested, ignoring the secret thrill of being manhandled by him.

He couldn’t mean to go on the way things had been before, could he? She’d said ‘yes’ to staying; she’d seen what that had meant for Laura and Chevie and the others; yet she’d … well, she’d expected Jordan might behave a little differently now.

“You don’t need to because I’ll take care of it,” he said ruthlessly, before his voice softened just a touch as he pressed the warm cloth to her pussy. Trish shuddered as he rubbed gently, making her pussy tingle with the soft pleasure.

“But what if I want to?” The question came out much softer than the challenge Trish had meant it to be—more like a child’s whine. She was feeling rather pouty, which she’d never been allowed to be while growing up in the orphanage.

“Too bad.”

Now it was Trish’s turn to scowl. “You can’t just … I chose to stay here—shouldn’t I get some say in what happens now?”

“No.” Jordan tossed the cloth away and settled his big body between her legs, his face lowering toward her pussy.

“You asked what would happen if you stayed, and I told you; we’ll keep doing the same thing we’ve been doing.

This is what we’ve been doing. You can follow the rules or you can get a spanking and then follow the rules. ”

“Wait!” Trish protested as he wrapped his arms around her thighs and pried them apart to the amount he preferred, which left her pussy open and vulnerable.

She tried to twist her hips to move away from him, but it was a useless act as his arms were far stronger than her legs or probably her entire body. “We should … Oh!”

His tongue swiped up the center of her pussy, an electric sensation against her swollen folds. Trish wriggled again, but, with her wrists bound and her lower body pinioned, there was nothing she could do against the pleasurable, oral assault on her already sensitive flesh.

“I want … to talk … about …” Trish moaned and panted between the words she forced out as Jordan licked and sucked on pussy, teasing her clit with the tip of his tongue. “Jordan! You have … to stop …”

“No,” he said succinctly, before returning to feast on her pussy. Her ass quivered around the plug.

His hand moved up to her breasts and squeezed them harshly as she began to try to speak again. Trish whimpered at the new stimulation, her nipples pressing into the palms of his hands as she squirmed against his tongue.

“I want to talk!” she managed to gasp out the words before squealing as his fingers plucked at her nipples, pinching the tender buds.

Trish couldn’t remember what she wanted to talk about at this point—she was having so much trouble focusing on anything but the rising pleasure in her core—but she wanted to talk. And Jordan was using sex to quiet her.

It turned Trish on, even as it frustrated her.

“Jordan!”

His fingers pinched her nipples, hard, twisting and tugging before releasing them and going back to playing with her breasts as he licked his way up and down her pussy.

Trish whimpered and squirmed, although now she wasn’t sure if she tried to get away or to get his mouth closer to her clit—where she craved the stimulation most and where he avoided licking her, now.

When Jordan pulled away, she cried out in disappointment and then cried out again as his hand slapped down on her wet, sensitive flesh, spanking her throbbing pussy.

“I will take care of your pussy,” he said, matter-of-factly, massaging the anatomy in question before lifting his hand to spank it again. Trish shrieked as the blow landed, and then he massaged the sting back into her folds.

“But sometimes I might want—”

He cut her off with another smack to her pussy, and her back arched. Her clit was throbbing, burning with the need to come, and one more swat might do it.

Trish opened her mouth to protest again, to try to push him into giving her another slap, one that would drive her over the edge, but Jordan was turning her over onto all fours again, hauling her ass high in the air. This time, though, he had no need to hold her wrists down.

“Jordan, plea—ow!”

Smack! Smack! Smack!

As if to prove nothing would change, Jordan spanked her upturned ass, his hand as hard and rough as ever on her tender cheeks.

It wasn’t a punishment spanking though …

but it wasn’t an erotic spanking for pleasure: it fell somewhere in between.

Trish gasped and moaned as the crisp swats stung her skin, and her clit pulsed in needy sympathy.

Her breasts swayed beneath her with every strike, dragging her stiff nipples over the sheets.

“You can’t—”

Smack! Smack!

“Jordan!

Smack! Smack!

The needy ache rising inside her only made protesting more difficult. Trish was hot and sensitive, swollen and throbbing, and so close to orgasm she might start screaming if she didn’t fall over the edge soon.

Yet, like always, Trish couldn’t bring herself to beg.

In the past, she hadn’t wanted to admit to what she saw as a betrayal by her body.

She still felt as though her body were betraying her—not because she didn’t want the pleasure, but because she didn’t want it right now.

Well, at least, Trish didn’t want it until after she’d had her say and exerted some kind of control back over herself.