Claimed

He tried not to let it bother him. He already told her it didn't, a few times in fact. She was bent on testing him though. Just the idea of it made him curl his lip in irritancy. But now, here, tonight, watching her speak with every man who walked up was bothersome. He shifted in his seat again, the discomfort starting to annoy him but he wouldn't move. He contemplated another cigarette, and then another drink, something, anything to occupy him until she finally became bored of her little game.

He decided on the drink and nodded his head towards the waitress who caught his eye. She started to smile at him, acknowledging his reorder but stopped a few feet and swiftly turned to make her way back to the bar, suddenly wanting to avoid him. The look in his eye unnerved her and she glanced towards the woman he watched, almost feeling sorry for her.

His fingers started to tap impatiently on his thigh but stopped as he saw the hand of the man with whom she spoke rest on her bare thigh. She pushed it away, though, and shook her head at him, smiling that smile that would charm him into giving up and walking away without feeling like a fool. He let out a slow breath, glaring at the unsuspecting fellow as he walked past, and then returned to watch her again. What he saw infuriated him.

She sat there with a smug look on her face, one dark eyebrow slightly raised, and her arms crossed, as if guarding herself from the reaction she knew she'd evoke in him. He seethed, he sneered, and he let out an audible grunt of annoyance, one loud enough to make the closest person to him turn and stare. He was about ready to walk out but the waitress suddenly appeared and dropped off the drink. He grabbed for it before she could even place it down in front of him and internalized the burn of the alcohol rushing down his throat. Again, he exhaled coming to the decision that when he finished, he would leave, without her. He'd had enough.

He shook his head, watching a third man approach her. Unlike with the previous two, he paid close attention. This man was her "type" although she insisted she didn't have one. He was good-looking but not too much to be vain, tall without being towering, muscular yet not bulky. He could see her body language change in the instant she greeted him. Her arms uncrossed, she boldly held his gaze as they spoke, and her finger traced a small circle over her exposed knee. A shift in her chair and her back was arching, forcing the man to notice her ample breasts, which weren't that hard to miss anyway. He carefully sipped at his drink, the jealousy mounting inside him. Yes, he was ready to admit it, he was jealous and feeling possessive of her, in fact, feeling possessed himself by something he'd not felt in years and never this strongly. Everything she was doing was inflaming him and he needed to get them out of there, now.

When she reached forward and gripped the man's arm, laughing loud enough to allow him to hear her across the noisy bar, he slammed down the rest of his drink and rose quickly to his feet. He strode in heavy even steps directly to her and upon seeing him, she pulled her hand away and pressed it down to the table. Her eyes narrowed a bit but she continued to speak to the man. Finally arriving at the table he stood behind him, giving her the opportunity to dismiss him like he did the others. She sighed gently and thanked him for coming over but that she had to leave. With a look of confusion at being so abruptly cut off, the man turned and walked away, leaving her to face him.

"Well?" She asked softly, leaning back in her chair to fully survey him. She was unable to anticipate what he would say to her, hoping that what she sought out to prove wouldn't, somehow, just end things between them.

He reached forward and pressed back a curl of hair that had fallen forward across her cheek, and then let his fingers slide against her soft skin to brush over chin. He reached for her hand and pulled her from her seat, leading her quickly from the bar towards his car. From the tight grip on her hand, she started to believe that he was angry with her, that he was about to tell her she was wrong, it was over, that what she had done proved nothing except that she was a flirt, a tease and deliberately did all she could to show to him that easily, there would be someone else there to take her and that she would go.

"Darling, please..." She started to plead with him but, having reached the car, he pulled her around and pressed her back against the side of it, his hand wrapping into her thick dark hair to tug her head back and kiss her. She couldn't even relax against him; the tight pressure of his body against hers kept her tense and nervous for his answer. Her tongue slid over his, tasting the liquor still coating it and his delved deeper, forcing a moan from her. His hand pushed up her skirt and started to tug roughly at her panties, making her wince as she felt and heard them rip. He dropped his hands down to grip her thighs and hike them around his waist, then reached between them to undo his jeans and release his stiff cock.

She felt it nudge between her spread thighs and would have let out a loud cry had his hand not planted firmly over her mouth the moment he thrust into her. Her eyes widened as he filled her up, her tight muscles wrapping around his shaft and squeezing, forcing him to groan as he always did that first moment he entered her. He eased back and drove in again, his hand squeezing over her mouth to mute her cries. A brief flash of panic overtook her, remembering where they were but she could neither see nor hear anyone close by and she let herself succumb to him. Her legs clamped tighter around him, pulling him in each time he pumped into her silky wet canal.

His hand moved to clamp to her bare cheek, squeezing and pulling her to him and soon, they were both growling in their need for release. She pushed his hand off her mouth, needing him to kiss her and he did, their bodies frantically working together to reach their orgasms. She came first, screaming into his mouth, the tension of performing all night as she did finally leaving her, pounded out of her in fact. His thrusts became harder, seemingly deeper as he felt her cunt spasm and drench his cock, and it overwhelmed it. He drove in deeply, ground his cock into her and came, the pressure of his body crushing her, making her writhe and sob out, not caring anymore if anyone saw or heard them.

She clung to him as they calmed down, both of them panting and trying to regain some sense of...anything. She couldn't look at him now; she didn't want to know his answer, for suddenly, for some reason, she doubted the statement she made earlier that he was finally believing this to be more of a fling, that what they had was more, that she had broken through that wall he had put up and that she would prove it to him by making him jealous. He had merely shaken his head at her and told her he wasn't the jealous type.

Slowly, he let her down, helping her slide her skirt back down before he quickly zipped up and grasped her hand to pull her to him again. He cupped her face and pressed a soft gentle kiss to her lips before leaning back to look down into her eyes, shimmering with wetness. He shook his head at her, and her heart dropped. She took a step to the side and started to release his fingers that had wound with hers. He tightened them and pulled her back, and finally spoke.

"Are you ok, baby? I mean, did I hurt you?" His fingers traced against her face and he gazed at her, the concern obvious. She felt where his hands had dug into her flesh, where the unyielding car pressed along her back and knew at least faint bruises would appear. But she didn't care. In that instant, hearing the tone of his voice, the look in his eyes, and the caress of his fingers, she had her answer. She smiled to him, with no trace of arrogance, and squeezed his hand, letting him know that yes, she was just fine.