Branded (The Club)

Her back faced me, and I shifted deeper into the sofa getting a secure hold on her. She made a mewling sound when my fingers petted over her mound still covered by damp cotton.

“Wet is good, remember that. I want you to always be wet for me. If you become mine your only job will be to wet for me. Understand?” I watched her head shift in a nod on the throw pillow she rested it on.

I smacked her rear end sharply. “Words, Langley. Use them.” The Dom in me emerged.

“Yes. I-I get it.” She panted under my hold. I cupped her cheek, feeling the heat of my smack on her skin, a pale shade of pink blooming.

“Good, darlin’.” Praise was important, especially because she was so new to this. Shifting her panties to the side with my right hand, I rubbed against her slick, plump clit. My finger came away from her center with a thin, shiny rope of her arousal that trailed out from her sweet sp

ot. I groaned thinking about impaling her at a later date, unfettered by the confines of The Club or even rubber condoms. I wanted her bare. When Langley signed my agreement, she would be tested and protected in other ways. For now, I wanted to give her something to look forward to saying yes to.

“This is mine, isn’t it beautiful?” I rubbed against her, pulling her arousal up to her back knot spreading it wide and thick.

“Y-yes.” I wanted her plaintive voice to call me master, or even sir, but there would be time for that later. I massaged her further, inserting my middle and ring fingers into her quivering walls. I was met with tight resistance only made easier breaching by how soaked she’d made my hand cupped under her. My other digits rested against her, pressing down.

“I want you soaked and thoroughly fucked by my fingers so that a man’s hand, my hand, never looks the same for you ever again.” I imagined her squeezing her eyes shut tightly, thinking the same thing that made me smile. My hands were large and rough from manual labor. They weren’t easy for her to take but it would prepare her for other things to come.

“Ugh…” Her moans got louder, and I worked her, slowly pushing in and pulling out, letting her juices run down between her legs to dampen my pants.

I finally added my pointer finger, stretching her wide with three fingers and letting my thumb rub her knot. “More baby?” I asked as her legs stiffened and her breathing got shallower. She grunted in response. My hand underneath her turned to cup her pussy and rub the pearl of her clit in slow circular strokes meant to draw out her orgasm into a slow downward spiral. Soft hairs covered her mound, and I spread her arousal through them—she’d smell herself for days no matter how many times she showered after tonight. I’d have her wax before I took her home, and then I’d brand her like this letting her know she was mine.

“Sloan.” The moan was hoarse escaping from her lips, and I knew her acquiescence in anything I asked of her tonight was a hairsbreadth away. Maybe it was manipulative, but I didn’t care because I would have this woman as mine on my ranch at my bidding.

“Almost there aren’t we?” Teasing, I slowed down and leaned forward spitting into my hand that worked in and out of her pussy in a rhythm to enslave her. Her moans were husky, guttural cries from the center of her body that radiated outward, echoing in the room.

“God, Sloan, please! I can’t. Please, just, uhh.”

“Nuh uh, darlin’.” I finger fucked her off to completion, letting her cries go like short high-pitched yelps once her walls squeezed my digits to near strangulation, covering them in a gush of thick honey. I held her over my lap until her heartbeat slowed before removing my hand to slap her pretty little ass. I sat her up straddling my leg, looking dazed and confused. Her pupils dilated, and her sex continued to pulsate over my thigh.

She swallowed as if trying to speak but was only capable of swaying to the side, adorably fucked by me. I held her close and grabbed a soft blanket from the back of the couch, wrapping it around her shoulders, watching her come down from the intense orgasm. She didn’t hit subspace, but I wasn’t trying to take her there. That I would reserve for another time. This was about establishing my control over her body and her sexual pleasure.

Langley shut her eyes and slumped forward. She rested her head against mine, small beads of sweat beaded from her temple and found a spot over her full top lip, pulling me under her strange magic.

“I bet the boys in Ohio didn’t make you feel that good.” I locked my eyes to hers waiting for a response.

Her voice croaked, but she finished her thought with, “What boys?” and made me smirk. Her hands wrapped around my neck and ran up into my hair, nails raking the back of my neck. Under typical circumstances, I wasn’t big on subs being touchy feely with me, but I allowed Langley this comfort. She seemed to need it, and it was a simple thing to give her. I couldn’t very well punish her for not knowing the rules, now could I? Punishments weren’t necessarily my thing; I found other ways to get my point across.

“Seal the deal?” I asked her, hoping this was all the convincing she would need.

“Didn’t know I had a choice?” She sassed me, crinkling her nose in a smile.

This girl. Damn this girl for making me laugh.

I tugged a handful of hair, kissing her. More like molding her lips to mine, letting her know that while some battles could be won, I would strategically win the war with her. Her pleasure would be mine, and my pleasure might just be hers. Tongues tangled, exchanging swipes and texture between lips as her hands held onto my face by the ears, pulling me closer. Teeth clanged, and I pulled her back down aggressively reminding her who was in charge.

“I will spank you, Langley Dawson,” I grumbled between nipping kisses.

“Harder?” she quipped, surprising me.

I hauled her up ready to get the fuck out of dodge and back to the ranch as soon as possible.

6

Langley

A week ago inside a secret sex club, my bank customer made me come harder than I thought possible, leaving my legs wobbling weak like jelly. Afterward, Sloan had put me back together and slipped my dress over my head before perfunctorily driving me home like it was all very normal. I was certain I left a wet puddle on the seat of his truck on the ride back, and since that night, I swore I could smell myself when I thought about how he touched me. Hands looked different to me, and I smiled thinking about his.

Ever the gentleman, he walked me up to my door and kissed my cheek before handing me a folder with instructions to go to bed naked between my sheets without a shower and to read the papers in the morning. Strangely, I followed his request without questioning him. My mother would have said he propositioned me like a hooker, but what he offered me was something different. He offered me a chance to explore things I knew were inside me to begin with.