Page 26 of Claimed (The Captain’s Captive #2)
Even if part of her reveled in her lack of control and Jordan’s refusal to change how he treated her.
She was confused, frustrated, so aroused she felt like she would explode, and it all melded together into a rush of emotions that swirled around her growing pleasure.
And when she stopped protesting, Jordan flipped her over onto her back again and grabbed her ankles.
He held them onto his shoulders as he slid his cock back into her soaked pussy.
Trish practically screamed with the pleasure of him entering her, stretching her muscles all over again, the new position keeping her helpless as he bent her in half to fuck her.
The heat from her spanked bottom flared as her ass bounced off the mattress, turning her on even more.
The hot velvet of Trish’s pussy spasmed around him as Jordan started to thrust, working out his frustrations on her helpless, squirming body. He would fuck her and clean her as many times as he needed to in order to get the message across: she was his to care for.
It was the kind of control other women had left him for, but Trish had chosen to stay.
Perhaps he should have expected her to test her boundaries. Marek had said something about Laura behaving similarly after choosing to stay with him. She’d gotten into quite a bit of trouble at the time, if Jordan remembered correctly. Jordan wouldn’t let Trish get into trouble.
He groaned as he sank into her, the only resistance coming from her legs as he pressed them down with his chest. Fortunately, Trish was very flexible. She arched underneath him, shuddering with pleasure as he pumped in and out of her hot pussy, the tight muscles of her channel pleasuring his shaft.
Since he’d already come once, he was able to take his time now.
Trish cried out as she came, his body rubbing against her swollen clit and pussy lips, which were pink from being spanked, although nowhere near the dark color he’d turned her ass.
Jordan let her legs slide down his arms to a more comfortable position, with her knees resting in the crooks of his elbows her thighs split wide open, and kept fucking Trish through her orgasm.
Her pussy clung to him, spasming and clenching around his cock as she wailed in pleasure. Her head tipped back as her pink lips opened on her ecstatic cry.
Jordan kept pumping, using her legs over his arms as leverage to force his cock in and out of her, faster and harder, as she writhed in orgasm.
Pale pink flushed her upper body, her nipples standing out stiffly as her breasts jiggled with every powerful thrust. She keened, writhing and tugging at the restraints on her wrists, her body arching up to meet his cock in the throes of ecstasy, but her pleasure quickly turned to overstimulation and exquisite agony when he didn’t give her a chance to recover.
Trish screamed as he pounded into her, his cock ravaging her slick sheath, her juices making the sound of their fucking sloppy and wet. He groaned with the pleasure of her clasping flesh trying to suck him deeper into her body, and fought for every thrust as she sobbed with overwhelming ecstasy.
It wasn’t until he’d driven her to yet another orgasm and she softened and submitted beneath him that Jordan allowed himself to let go and fill her pussy with his cum.
This time, when he went to get a cloth to clean her, Trish was far too tired, too hazy in her sexual satiation, to do more than mumble incoherently.
Pleased, Jordan wrapped himself around her, uncuffing her from the bed but leaving the cuffs on her wrists, as he possessively covered every inch of her with himself.
She’d chosen to stay.
She was his now.
Trish swam through space as though it were water, trying to get to the Earth, but the Earth kept sliding farther away while the Moon came closer.
She changed directions, trying to get to the Moon, but then it slid away while the Earth rotated closer.
It didn’t matter which she aimed for, she couldn’t reach either of them, and her lungs began to burn as the blackness of space closed in around her, pressing against her chest and crushing her ribcage.
Trish awoke with a gasp and wriggled away from the heavy pressure of Jordan’s arm across her ribcage. She slid her arm beneath his to give herself some breathing room and realized her wrists were still cuffed together. Trish scowled.
Jordan shifted, and she stilled, not wanting to wake him up. To her relief, he let out a long sigh and settled back into the mattress, his arm tightening before slumping back into a relaxed state. He was still asleep.
Exhaustion tugged at her, but Trish wasn’t sure she could fall back asleep. She struggled with her new reality—the new reality she’d chosen. Trish had come to feel more at home in the Wolf’s compound than she had on the Moon. She didn’t hate or fear Jordan anymore.
She was willing to admit—after worrying about him during Lisa and Ken’s capture—that she cared for Jordan. She cared about what happened to him. Some part of her loved the way he doted on her, even the way he controlled her.
The Moon was not where Trish wanted to be.
There, she was less than a pawn: she was a person of no importance.
The Moon’s people only valued the wealthy and powerful, but the Earth might not be much better.
After years of turmoil and then dictatorial rule, people weren’t treated the way they should be.
Unfortunately, neither the Earth’s leadership nor the Moon’s was a shining example of how to treat its citizens.
Their moralities were different, but they were both pretty terrible.
Her studies had taught her that people used to have more choices.
Things used to be more egalitarian. Relationships used to involve actual romance, not power maneuvers and politics, or lust and kidnapping.
People in relationships used to give each other candy or other edible tokens of affection, the same way Jordan often plied her with small chocolates and cake.
On the other hand, he’d also kidnapped her, used her, and turned her into his sexual plaything.
Did the fact that Trish now liked being his sexual plaything make her feel any better?
No, not really.
She hadn’t wanted to leave him—still didn’t want to leave—but would she be happy staying?
Trish was all on her own in her unhappiness about being plucked out of the streets. Was it because she hadn’t grown up on Earth, like Laura? If she had, would Trish have been more accepting of her fate?
Probably. Everyone else had seemed to accept it. This was normal for them.
But Trish wasn’t Laura. She hadn’t been raised on Earth.
She hadn’t known a life where being taken had been a possibility.
No one had ever wanted her. She’d thought she’d spend her life anonymously, with no one taking a real interest in her.
In her work, perhaps, if she did well, but not her as a person.
How was she supposed to feel? Trish had made a choice based on her lingering fear for Jordan during the kidnapping of Lisa and Ken—and possibly some jealousy over Lisa’s attempts to use her body to bargain with –Jordan—as well as her general desire for many parts of her life in the Wolf’s compound.
She was so confused.
Even her emotions were confused. Trish was mad Jordan wouldn’t talk to her about letting her do something as simple as cleaning herself off, but, at the same time, her body had thrilled to him taking control.
She’d felt cared for even as it had frustrated her.
She had possessive, maybe even romantic, feelings for him, but, half the time, Trish resented herself for feeling that way because she shouldn’t.
She wanted to kick him, and yet she craved his touch.
She wanted some control back over her life, and yet she loved it when he dominated her.
She’d thought things would change, now that she’d decided to stay, and was both frustrated and relieved that Jordan didn’t think anything should change between them.
When he shifted again, snuggling her closer, her heart made an unsteady thump, and happy warmth slid through her.
Trish wanted to bang her head on the wall.
It would be so much easier if she could let go and be like Laura and the others. Or if she could hate Jordan for what he’d done; how he’d disrupted her life.
But all Trish could do was hope she wouldn’t come to regret her decision to stay.