Page 11 of Branded (The Club)

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“Come here you little spitfire,” he rumbled before hauling me up against his naked body. Heat suffused through my body, and his rod pressed against my belly, pre-cum smearing me from the tip.

“Is this the part where you take me like a caveman?”

“Oh, I’m going to take you all right.” He picked me up and maneuvered me down before the fire, our bodies inching slowly to the soft carpet near the grate and warm flames.

When our knees touched he pushed me back, and I landed on my butt. I was going to say something cheeky, but the look in his eyes stopped my words. The fire reflected in them and a hunger seemed to take over. I leaned on my back, and he crawled over me pushing my legs apart.

I wanted this. Oh God, how I wanted this. Sloan devoured me with his eyes, and I submitted under his penetrating stare. His hands rested near my head, his body between my spread legs and raised knees hovering above me.

“Does my pretty girl know how to ask for what she wants?”

His voice gave me chills in anticipation. My heart fluttered leaving me faint in the heat of the room and warmth of his skin so achingly close to mine.

“Please, sir. Please make me yours.” Biting down on my bottom lip, unsure in my demureness, my fingers reached out touching the thick ridge of his shoulders. We hadn’t established what I would call him, and I cursed myself for falling asleep in the truck. I had so many questions but none seemed important right here in the moment.

Sloan pressed forward, his member rigid and heavy against my damp petals. He leaned his forehead into my neck and positioned himself at my wet entrance. “You’re wet,” he said, and I smiled. I kissed his cheek with a lick of my tongue.

“For you, master. Only you.” My words seemed to excite him as he pressed the head of his thick cock inside me in a slow steady press of flesh against flesh. Thoughts evaporated from my head, my sole concentration on the feel of him sliding inside me. The bulbous head breached my lips below moving deeply. My hips rose to meet him as if his cock could kiss my cervix in a gentle press he bottomed out within.

That was my only respite.

“This is how I want you, Langley.” Sloan pulled back and slammed in, making me shift upward against the carpet. “I’m not usually so gentle but you do something to me. I don’t know what it is.” He was rougher then, and my legs widened to give his hips the room to move.

“Give it to me. I’ll take it. I can take it,” I reassured him, lying compliant until the stirrings of an orgasm hit me on the second thrust, and I met him one after another.

“I know you’ll take it,” he said as we moved in tandem. Heat blossomed within me not related to the fire next to us, and beads of sweat tickled me between my breasts.

“Uh. Sloan. Sir.” I was going to come. I didn’t know what rules there were about that, but I didn’t care with the wave rushing over me.

He leaned down, licking between my breasts, his hot mouth covering my nipple in a hard suck that seemed to drain my soul from my chest. I would have given him anything he asked in that moment if he let me come.

“Please, please, please,” I begged for my release. Sloan gave it to me, grinding his hips into mine, coarsely rubbing my pubic bone setting off a deep ripple of energy within.

“This is how I want you. Wild abandon begging me to let you come.” He slapped against me in rough strokes, his ball sac heavy and hitting me below.

We grunted, coming at the same time, Sloan shooting off inside me bare, his load heavy within. I’d never done that before, but with him it felt right. We had talked about it. Probably one of the few things we actually discussed, and I was okay with him being inside me unprotected.

A part of me understood his need for control, to dictate his desires as he was fulfilling my own needs. I liked that. I wanted that, and I felt like we were well matched. He could order me to kneel, and I would do it to feel that drugging pleasure again as my heart slowly returned to its normal cadence. I would crawl, following him everywhere for the next thirty days because I knew it would please him as

much as I craved to please him.

We lay silently in front of the fire until our skin grew cold from dried sweat, my head pillowed on his chest, fingers running through my hair rhythmically, drawing me further down the rabbit hole.

I dozed maybe a few minutes more before I felt him pick me up and carry me to a bedroom I hadn’t seen before. He pulled the covers back and laid me within the downy blankets before joining me on the other side. His body curled protectively around mine, pulling me under his arms, and for the first time in a long while, I was happy.

9

Sloan

I wanted to sleep in with Langley, but chores around the ranch didn’t get themselves done on their own despite the ranch hands and Stella working for me. As expected, I was up before the sun, my internal clock rousing me despite my wishes to rest longer. My eyes felt full of grit I rubbed out and my muscles pleasantly sore from our time in front of the fire. Her gentle cries still echoed in my head, a record of pleasure fulfilled playing over and over, making me smile.

Rolling over, I eased out from under her and gave myself a moment to drink in her loveliness. Her face rested easy against the pillows. Her warm and sleepy body reminded me of a tawny-colored kitten who lived in our barn growing up. My mother named her Luchadora, a rough translation from Spanish meaning feisty. That was Langley. My pretty girl had this unexpected fire that came out when I least expected it. I sensed she was often at war with herself to let go and simply exist in the moment. I didn’t know what held her back, maybe her upbringing or a bad past relationship. It didn’t matter now because she was here, and I had plans for Langley.

My shower was quick under the hot spray as I scrubbed my skin clean. I dressed in jeans and a buttoned flannel, my typical attire at home. I set up the closet with more cotton and lace dresses for Langley. Pretty things. Delicate things. My hands lingered on one in particular, pale blue cotton with white lace. I pulled it off the hanger and left it on the chair next to the bed. I had no doubt Miss Langley would roll her eyes in the confines of the room when dressing. I had removed all the underwear from the room. After last night, I didn’t want to get whipped with it should she remove it. Her hesitancy before giving in was cute. In another woman, I would have set out to break her of that habit, but with Langley it seemed enchanting and an integral part of her personality. I wasn’t looking to romanticize this arrangement in the least, but again, it was one more thing Langley seemed to be doing in me that I hadn’t planned on.

She made me laugh, a nearly impossible feat most days with my mind occupied on the ranch and Blackjack’s studding. I was quickly learning that Langley’s humor was a mixture of her awkward naivety and sarcasm. Definitely not a trained submissive. I could leave her special assignments, readings, and websites to explore, so she could better define her hard and soft limits, but I wasn’t so quick to mold her as I might have been with other women. I didn’t have words to describe it, so I ignored it for the time being.

Stella would say Langley was good for me once she got over the whole arrangement of things. Stella wasn’t big on the company I brought out to the ranch except maybe Lorand, but he stayed in the bunk house and worked the ranch. My female companions were removed from that, and I guessed only time would tell.


Tags: M.C. Cerny Erotic