Claiming His Captive by Sassa Daniels – Extended Preview

“Follow me,” he bit out curtly. She turned to go back for her clothes, but he reached out quickly to grab her arm. “As you are.”

“Fine.”

Gritting her teeth, Hannah walked along the corridor behind him. In silence, they went down the stone steps by the front entrance to the castle and walked along the passages toward the more modern part of the building. There was a staircase just before they came to the living room that she somehow hadn’t noticed earlier. She must have been concentrating on the paintings on the wall opposite because a grand wooden structure like this would be hard to miss. She followed Cameron up the steps and to the third door on the right. Pushing it open, he gestured for her to go in.

Immediately, she saw that this was much more Cameron’s style. The furniture was dark, solid in its construction. The bed was large and had a beautiful latticed metal headboard that was no doubt handy for tying people to. There was only one painting on the wall, a modern piece that looked disturbingly like a blood splatter. Perhaps it was meant to be a commentary on the human spirit or something equally intangible. She really didn’t get abstract art.

“I’ll bet these walls could tell a few tales,” Hannah said.

“I don’t bring women here.”

“What, never?”

“No.”

“Well, aren’t I the lucky one?”

His eyes narrowed, his expression was forbidding, and any thought Hannah had of lightening his mood with idle chatter was gone.

“Get on the bed,” he said with unmistakable command. “Head down, arse up, legs spread wide.”

Giving him a quick salute would probably result in an increased punishment, so Hannah resisted the urge and obediently climbed up onto the bed. As she crawled into position, she spotted something lying on the pillows that made her heart thud. She looked back over her shoulder at Cameron.

“What is that thing?” she asked.

Saying nothing, he walked past her and picked up the object. It was a long strip of stiff leather, split partway along to create two separate tails. At its end was a braided handle. Cameron slapped it down onto his palm, giving her a taste of the sharp smacking noise it made on impact. The blood drained from her face.

“This is a tawse,” he told her, “a traditional implement for punishing all kinds of misdemeanors.”

“Does it hurt?” She immediately wished she could take back what was undoubtedly a stupid question.

“Of course it does,” he echoed the thought that had just gone through her own head. “The split in the strap is there to give a nasty surprise.”

“And you’re going to hit me with that?” Again, it was a silly question, but she had to ask.

“I am, but first I’ll use my hand and warm you up a bit.”

He made that sound like an act of generosity, but Hannah wasn’t so sure it was. Yes, it would introduce the punishment a little more gradually, but wouldn’t being spanked with his hand be incredibly sensual? Just thinking about it made her wet.

“How many times?” Hannah asked.

“At least ten with my hand.”

Well, that was non-specific.

“And with the other thing?”

“To be determined.”

Hannah screwed her nose up. That’s not how this was supposed to work, was it? She should know what was coming to her.

“Based on what?” she asked.

“Your responses, of course.”

Did that mean if she screamed bloody murder at the first whack he would stop? That seemed unlikely. Suddenly she was getting a bit more anxious about this punishment.

“Shouldn’t I have a safe word?”

“A safe word?” He had the temerity to laugh at her. “What is it you think’s happening here, sweetheart? This isn’t a game and there aren’t any rules. You’ll take what I give you and be grateful I know when to stop.”

Hannah huffed and turned to bury her face in the bedsheets. It would be foolish to argue with Cameron when there was no way she could win. If he was determined to punish her, he would do it and the more she protested, the worse it would be. Bracing herself, she focused on keeping her breath steady. If she stayed calm, she’d get through this humiliation more easily.

Her reaction as his palm cracked off her butt cheek for the first time was unexpected. A giggle rose up inside her, but she suppressed it. When Cameron struck her again in a different spot, she had the same response to the fleeting pain but this time she couldn’t help but let out a laugh. It had to be some sort of defense mechanism. She often sniggered at inappropriate times, like when she was younger, and her father told her the dog had died. He’d looked at her as though she’d lost her mind and she wondered whether Cameron thought she was a bit strange now.

As Cameron continued to spank her, his hand smacking off different parts of her bottom in a steady rhythm, the urge to laugh disintegrated. This was starting to hurt. Each strike was a little more painful than the last and her flesh began to heat up. By the time he finally stopped, she was panting for breath. Without the blows falling, her bottom seemed to throb harder, making her whimper as the discomfort grew. Closing her eyes, she tried to block out another troubling sensation, her burgeoning arousal.

She drew in a sharp breath as Cameron slid his hand between her legs and gently ran a finger along her feminine slit. Unable to help herself, she rubbed against him.

“Look at that.” Cameron held his hand up for her to see the evidence of her desire glistening on his finger. “Soaking wet.”

“Uh-huh.” She could formulate no other response. How was she supposed to react to the humiliating fact she’d been turned on by being spanked?

“I don’t think you’re going to like this next part quite as much,” he said as he picked up the tawse. “Now, hold still and don’t clench.”

There was barely time to register the instruction before a whooshing sound alerted her to the tawse cutting through the air behind her. As it made impact, there was a sharp sting and then came an unpleasant nipping sensation.

“Owwh!” she screeched. “That fucking hurt.”

She wriggled her hips as she tried to shake out the pain.

“Hold still,” Cameron instructed.

The strap struck again, and she yelped like a dog whose tail had been trodden on. That implement was pure evil. Tears pricked at her eyes and she was sure her arse was on fire. The third strike made her scream and she shook her head violently as though that would somehow make it all better. Cameron tapped her thigh in warning and she stilled. The tawse seared her flesh once more. She might just about have coped with its sting if the stiff leather strands didn’t pinch her skin the way they did as a nasty little parting gift. As one blow fell after another, she lost count of how many strokes he’d given her. Moaning and crying, she clutched at the sheets, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Her bottom ached but worse than that was the humiliation of being unable to hold herself together.

“Two more,” he said sternly and then added, “you’re doing fine, sweetheart.”

That shouldn’t have warmed her to the core, but she had to admit every time he called her that, even sarcastically, she melted inside. She took a deep breath and when the strap landed once more, she whined and buried her face in the bedclothes. She longed for this to be over, not just because it hurt but because there was something else she needed. Her body had come alive in a way she hadn’t expected. Every part of her bristled with sexual awareness as a fluttering stirred her insides. She wanted Cameron’s touch to soothe away the pain.

A chill in the air behind alerted her a split second before the tawse landed, harder than before. The sting radiated out across her well chastised bottom and she wailed. Cameron grabbed her by the waist and flipped her over. She squealed as her butt hit the mattress and then gasped as he dragged her to the edge of the bed. Brushing her cheek with gentleness that threw her off guard after that harsh punishment, he smiled down at her.

“Do you want me to make it all better?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation.

Dropping to his knees, he parted her thighs. She tensed and then relaxed as the tip of his tongue touched her for the first time. With teasingly light strokes, he ran his tongue up and down her cleft. She wriggled and reached out to grab a fistful of his hair. She gasped as his hands cupped her inflamed buttocks and tilted her hips to give him better access as he slipped his tongue inside her. Hannah threw her head back and moaned as he lapped at her glistening pussy. He was good at this. He was better than good. Whatever he was doing to her, it was magical. He dragged his tongue slowly to her clitoris. With excruciatingly lazy strokes, he teased her to a frenzy.

“Oh, god, yes,” she cried out.

The engorged bud pulsed furiously, and her legs shook as waves of pleasure washed over her. Cameron got to his feet, unfastened his trousers, and freed his hugely erect cock. Lifting her legs up around his waist, he shoved his full length inside her with a single brutal thrust. Giving her no time to adjust to his size, he slid out of her and slammed back in again. He moved languorously, stretching her with agonizingly slow, sensual strokes.

“Fuck, you feel perfect,” he gritted out, “so fucking tight.”

Words streamed from her lips, incoherent pleas for him to fuck her harder. Understanding what she needed, he pounded relentlessly into her quivering body. She yelled out as an orgasm grabbed hold of her and pulled her over the edge. Even as she lost herself in an ecstatic haze, Cameron fucked her mercilessly. Tangled in a web of pleasure and pain, she whimpered and moaned. It was too much, yet she wanted more. Cameron reached down and found her swollen clit. He squeezed it between his fingers, applying just enough pressure to cause her the most exquisite pain. Her breaths came more rapidly now, and her womb clenched.

“Come for me, he commanded. “Hannah, now.”

“Oh, fuuuck!”

A gush of fluid flooded her pussy. Cameron’s thrusts became erratic as her body arched off the bed and she felt him swell inside her. A moment later, her tight channel was bathed in his cum. She winced as he pulled out of her and tucked himself back into his clothing. Her still-quivering body was covered in a sheen of perspiration and her pulse raced. She felt like she’d been for a spin in the washing machine and yet he looked completely composed. His shirt wasn’t even crumpled. How the hell could that be?

“Get into bed,” he instructed.

She scrambled under the covers and was surprised when he came to tuck her in. Nobody had done that for her since she was a child and there was something deeply comforting about it. He bent down, brushed her hair back from her face, and kissed her forehead.