Chapter Five
Chapter Five
All of the above?
Fuck.
With her in his bed—all softness and vulnerability—Michael had been hard all night. Now, his erection was even more demanding. “I’m always happy to accommodate you,” he replied.
Her lips parted.
Did my response catch you off guard?
With her quick smile, confident strut, and the way she held her shoulders back, even the occasional flip of her hair, she’d polished her bratty act—the one she showed most Doms—to perfection.
But Michael had glimpsed moments of uncertainty, and once, maybe a trace of fear.
He saw her as so much more than a bottom who yearned for a taste of adventure without commitment.
And the more of her secrets that he uncovered, the more he wanted to reveal.
Studying her, he asked, “Which order would you like to go in? First to last? Or last to first?”
When she didn’t respond, he suggested, “We could start with the second option. Having your body pressed against my cock will save you a few seconds on the blow job.”
He’d be willing to bet she had no idea how expressive her face was. When something interested her, her lips parted slightly. And that made him want her even more.
Seeing her here, now, in what he assumed was her typical attire, hiking pants and sturdy boots, with her hair ravaged from their sex the night before, wearing no makeup, and dressed in one of his shirts, she hid behind no artifice.
Earlier, when she’d touched his face in bed, he’d considered letting her know he was awake.
He was a notoriously light sleeper, aware of every noise inside and outside the house. But the opportunity to observe Sydney’s unguarded moments had been irresistible, despite the hormones urging him to grab her, pin her beneath him, and slake his morning lust.
He’d heard her moving around the kitchen, then smelled the aroma of brewing coffee. He’d taken his time pulling on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. But before he’d made it down the stairs, the snick of a door closing reached him.
When he’d noticed her leather dress remained artfully draped across the back of the barstool and her purse still sat on the counter, he’d sighed with relief. At least she hadn’t left without saying goodbye.
Part of him had expected exactly that. After all, Gregorio had warned Michael about the way she discarded Doms.
Curious about what she was up to, he’d grabbed a cup of coffee.
As a testament to how much he enjoyed having her here, he’d grinned when he noticed she’d taken the cream from the top of the milk.
Barefoot, he’d wandered to the window, where he’d enjoyed watching her interact with Chewie.
He’d always figured he could learn a lot about a person based on the way they treated animals.
When she’d tentatively reached out to pet the goat behind the ears, he’d smiled. Chewie was a decent judge of character, much like some dogs Michael had owned.
Taking his time, he’d headed upstairs to finish dressing. While he’d been putting on his clothes, he’d been mentally removing hers.
Now he intended to do it in reality. “I’m going to kiss you like I fucking own you.”
While he put down his coffee and stood, she remained firmly on the rock, unmoving, but not protesting.
Capturing her shoulders, he pulled her to her feet.
Then he dug a hand into her hair and captured her gaze. How easy it would be to lose himself in the blue depths of her eyes. They communicated her true emotion better than anything that came out of her mouth. If she knew what he saw, she’d be terrified.
“Sir, I’d rather we just—”
“Sydney? Use your safe word or shut the hell up.” He pulled her between his legs.
Slowly, he brushed his lips across hers. “They’re soft.”
“I’ve made a choice. I’ll just suck you off.” She batted her eyelashes provocatively.
You want to hide from true intimacy, darlin’? He wasn’t having it.
Instead, he skimmed his tongue across her upper lip.
“Oh! That’s…”
He drew her bottom lip between his teeth and bit down with the slightest pressure.
She tipped back her chin.
“Open your mouth to me.” He tightened his grip in her hair and unfastened the top button on her shirt to reveal her creamy chest. “I mean it.”
The moment she complied, he pressed his tongue to hers, and she moaned, the slight sound of her capitulation galvanizing him. He sought more, wanting her total surrender. She tasted of sweet cream, of morning, of promise.
Michael deepened the kiss, and she responded, rising onto her toes to wrap her arms around his neck, knocking off his hat in the process.
When they communicated like this, from a place of desire, she was completely honest.
Helplessly, she met each of his thrusts, and he reached inside her shirt to caress one of her breasts.
No doubt she was tender from last night, but he didn’t want to make her too sore…for now. When he flogged her later, he wanted her to enjoy the feel of deer hide biting at her nipples.
With a moan, she curled one hand over his cock. Now he wished he’d dressed in something other than jeans. He adjusted their positions, dragging her closer.
With that, she met his intensity with a ferocity of her own. Still, he maintained control, just as he should.
In incremental measures, he ended the kiss and eased his grip. “I should have done that last night. A dozen times,” he amended.
“I don’t normally kiss.” Her words and expression were both prim.
Along with snuggling. “You do now.”
“I suppose that’s true, Sir. And since your hat seems to have fallen off…” She moved to press her palms against his chest. “We should get started on my offer.” Diligently, she set to work on his shirt, unfastening the buttons and pulling the hem from his waistband.
Enjoying the bold vixen, he allowed her to lead. Temporarily.
When she was done, he shucked the material from his shoulders while she fumbled with the metal button at the top of his jeans.
Then she struggled with the zipper.
“Your massive cock is making this more difficult.” A scowl accompanied her protest.
“What do you suggest?”
She used both hands—one to hold the denim taut, the other to release the metal teeth. Then she pushed his jeans down, letting them fall to his ankles.
The sensation of her tongue lapping his cock was stunning.
Kneeling, she cupped his balls with one hand and stroked him with the other, methodically moving up and down his engorged shaft. Then she took him deep into her mouth until he was certain she might choke. But she didn’t.
“Damn,” he mumbled. Her touch was masterful. She placed a finger on his perineum and a million sensations zinged through him. He’d had blow jobs before, really good ones, but no other woman had been as dedicated to the task as she was.
She moved up to place the tip of her tongue underneath his cock. Eagerly, she continued, adding extra pressure to that sensitive spot near his anus and licking with the lightest of touches.
Constantly she changed the tempo, licking and sucking harder as she tightened her grip. Then she slid up and took his dick in her mouth again.
With tiny sighs of pleasure, she caressed, pulled, cupped. That she was into it, into him, drove him mad. “Sydney,” he warned, on the verge.
Ignoring him, she tightened her grip, driving his orgasm.
“Darlin’…” He groaned as ejaculate pulsed from deep inside.
He expected her to pull away, letting him spill on the ground or her chest, but she didn’t.
Instead, she drew up, holding on to the tip of his cock as she swallowed every single drop.
He cupped the sides of her face, and she flicked her gaze upward. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but it appeared she was smiling while she still had him in her mouth.
Finally, she let go, then licked the last drop from his slit.
“Now I don’t have to worry about your hard cock pressing against me while I get a spanking.” She wiped tears from her face.
“Don’t be too sure of that,” he said, getting dressed again. “Come here.”
He helped her to stand.
Since the ground was uneven, she took a hopping step to steady herself. He wrapped an arm around her waist then captured her chin and tilted her head back before gently brushing a kiss across her mouth. “Thank you.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
In the distance, Chewie bleated. He glanced over to see the caprine trotting off with his hat.
He exhaled his frustration.
Giving chase would make the Nigerian dwarf think he was playing a game. The best he could hope for was that he’d get it back without any pieces missing. He also knew he was a dreamer. “She thinks she’s a dog and she’ll eat anything. Hyperactive hellion. I keep hoping she’ll grow up.”
“I guess my shoe is in good company.”
“Should have hung it from a tree branch.” He released her chin as he watched one of his most expensive hats bobbing up and down until it and the goat both disappeared.
“At least she wasn’t able to steal your jeans.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Good point.”
“But you could have covered the family jewels with your hat. Since you don’t currently have a blazing hard-on, at least it wouldn’t stick out.” She snickered.
“You think you’re funny?”
“Yes, Sir.” With a radiant smile, she dazzled him. “As a matter of fact, I do. I’m very comical.”
“I think you do need that spanking.”
Her smile widened. “I’m sure you’re right.”
“Incorrigible.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Spying a boulder, he took her hand and guided her toward it.
“Drop your pants,” he ordered, sitting and making sure the ground was solid beneath him so that his boots didn’t accidentally slip, sending her sprawling. “You can hold one of my legs for balance since we’re on an angle.”
“Sir is very generous.”
“Was that sarcasm, Sydney?”
“Absolutely not, Sir. That would be disrespectful.”
“Your pants,” he reminded her.
Beneath his watchful gaze, her hand trembled slightly, delighting him. He loved that he had an effect on her, even when she adopted a blasé demeanor.
“Now over my knee.”
When she’d draped herself into position, he admired the sight. “It’s hard to decide which position I like you in best.”
“You always seem to have my ass sticking up one way or another.”
“If you behaved better, maybe you wouldn’t always need it warmed.” He waited, angling his head to the side. “No response?”
“Ah, that’s not really incentive for me to behave, Sir.” She kicked her legs a bit.
“Oh, right. The denied orgasm is most effective with you.”
She stilled.
“You haven’t been that bad, Sydney.” The woman was as fierce as she was attractive, and he appreciated her sharp wit.
In this instance, he was clearly the winner—he had the delectable Sydney squirming beneath his hand. “I couldn’t be more pleased with you.”
He reached between her legs, forcing her to grab his left ankle to stabilize herself. “Your pussy is already damp.”
“That’s your fault, Sir. It happened while I was sucking you off.”
“Did it?” His dick thickened at her words. No other woman had ever said as much. “I’m glad I ignored Gregorio’s advice.”
“I appreciate a man who’s an independent thinker. Now can we get on with it?”
Her ass cheeks were still slightly red in parts, and he delighted in the opportunity to make the rest match.
Without hesitation, he brought his hand down on her buttocks.
“Ouch.”
“More sarcasm?” Michael set his jaw. This woman calculated her words for maximum effect, probably hoping he’d lose control. He vowed he never would. Instead, he’d call on his carefully cultivated reserves of patience.
Deliberate, focused on what he was doing, he aimed each of his next three rapid spanks on the fleshiest part of her butt, avoiding her existing marks.
After that, he paused to rub her vigorously.
When she purred her pleasure, he jostled her.
“Sir!”
“Hold on,” he suggested.
He grabbed her buttocks and squeezed until she exhaled in an unladylike grunt. He eased off, but barely, before resuming his massage.
“That’s… Shit!”
After slapping her hard, he fingered her. “Oh, you’re even wetter now. You’re a perfect little sub.”
“I’m not really a—”
“You’re mine.” Whatever words she used—the facts didn’t change.
He tapped his foot to bounce her around and he continued the motion as he resumed the spanking. He caught her a dozen times or more with his cupped hand, making her cry out.
When she thrashed her legs, he teased her pussy once more.
“Sir!”
Again and again, he spanked her. “Are you begging for mercy?”
“No. No, no, no.”
Her responses were barely audible over her whimpers.
“Do you remember your safe and slow words?”
“I’m begging for an orgasm, Sir, not for you to stop!”
Rapidly, he moved from spanks to squeezes to teasing her swollen clit.
“Finger-fuck me, Sir.”
Had she already learned he could deny her nothing, especially when she was breathlessly pleading with him?
Wanting nothing more than to satisfy her as she’d pleased him, he slipped a finger into her then he pulled some of the dampness backward to lubricate her tightest hole.
She held her breath and clenched her muscles.
“That behavior will not be tolerated.” He placed two fingers in her pussy, gathering some more of her feminine arousal. “Open up.” He stroked her, encouraging her to lose the tension.
“But…”
“Did that sound like a suggestion?”
“No, Sir,” she said miserably, complying with his command.
He kept up what he was doing until she trembled, then he worked a finger inside her ass.
“Argh!”
“That’s it.” He adjusted himself to trap her legs, upending her a little more in the process, forcing her to put one hand on the ground.
He thrust in and out, pausing occasionally to spank her thighs.
As she started to cry, he pressed a thumb against her clit and continued his relentless pounding of her rectum.
“Oh, Sir…”
“Come for me.”
In an instant, she did, clawing his pant leg, feverishly pumping her body. He encouraged her along, drawing out her orgasm until she went limp across him.
Offering soothing, nonsensical words, he withdrew his finger, then helped her turn back over and sit up.
“That was… Heavens, Sir.” She curled into him in a way she hadn’t before. “I feel scalded.”
Whether she realized it or not, she was letting down her guard with him, and he cherished that. “That can only mean one thing. You need to cool off. In the river.”
“Are you serious?” She glanced around. “I don’t have a swimsuit or shorts.”
“We have all the privacy in the world out here.”
As if considering, she pressed her lips together. “Regardless, we’re in the Colorado mountains, which means it’s going to be as cold as hell.”
“Yeah.” He grinned. “Your nipples will stand up and beg for attention. That alone is reason enough for me. Don’t tell me you’ve never skinny-dipped?”
“Of course I have. In a pool and the ocean.”
“But not in a river?”
She shook her head.
“And yet you live for adventure.”
“I guide white water rafting tours. I’ve ended up in the water more than once, which is how I know it’s frigid.”
Still, she didn’t say no. Instead she drummed her fingers on her thigh. Have I won?
“What about that mangy little—?”
“Dwarf. She’s a Nigerian dwarf goat,” he told her for the second time. “And she’s not mangy. She gets bathed regularly and groomed often.”
“She takes baths?”
He liked their easy banter, along with the fact that Sydney seemed to be in no hurry to get away from him. “Either me or Jeb, my foreman, give them to her.”
“You do?”
“As I mentioned, Melanie and my nieces don’t make it up here often, so I get the honors.”
“You could braid her hair and tie it with ribbons, and she’d still be a menace to society.”
“Some females are,” he agreed easily.
She lanced him with the knife-edge of a glacial stare.
With a grin, he relented. “Present company excluded.”
“I can’t have your pampered pet eating any more of my belongings.”
“We can put your belongings high enough in the branches so that she can’t reach them.”
“Are you coming in with me?”
“Someone needs to twist your nipples.”
“Ah…” Her eyes now took on a glossy, sensual hue. “In that case, yes. It actually does look inviting.” She scampered from his lap and bent to pull off her hiking boots.
Obviously once she’d made up her mind, she didn’t entertain second thoughts.
She peeled off her socks, shoved them in the boots, then she tied the shoelaces together and looped them over a branch.
“Chewie can climb that rock.” He pointed.
“She’s a pain in the ass.” Shaking her head, Sydney stood on tiptoe and selected a higher branch.
Michael grinned.
No matter how skilled or determined, the goat probably couldn’t have reached the first location. He was sure she would try, but he was convinced she’d never succeed. But he was a red-blooded male and he’d wanted to watch Sydney stretch and rise up.
It didn’t take her long to take off her remaining clothes, and she hung them on the tree, too.
Without waiting for him, she headed for the water’s edge, picking her way over tiny rocks.
Still, she looked upstream before surveying the rest of the river. Sydney was cautious, not nearly as reckless as her reputation suggested.
“There’s a little pool here.” She crouched to stick her hand in the water. “It’s not as cold as I expected.”
Hell of a way to start the day, a pot of strong coffee waiting and looking at a beautiful woman—a beautiful, naked woman—who’d given him a hell of a blow job and whose ass had been reddened appropriately. He could get used to this, real fast.
By slow measures, she entered the stream. “Damn!”
“Not that warm after all?”
“It’s deeper here,” she said, forcing out a breath and rubbing her arms. “And because it’s so early, the sun’s not warming my skin.”
She squatted, which was the only way to get herself wet up to the chest. Her nipples were tantalizingly erect when she stood and faced him. “I thought you were coming in, Sir?”
“I am.” Just as he’d watched her, she shamelessly studied him as he undressed.
Like she had done, he hung his clothes from pine tree branches.
“Nice butt, Sir.”
Her voice held a seductive, feminine purr that turned him on.
He joined her, and before he adjusted to the shiver-inducing shock, the vixen splashed him. “You like to live dangerously.”
“It was an accident, Sir.” Her twinkling eyes proved she was lying.
Determinedly, Michael made a large cup with his joined hands, and he dunked them under the water. Then he took a step toward her, allowing droplets to fall between his fingers.
“Uhm… What are you doing, Sir?” In her attempt to back away, she stumbled.
Swearing, he dumped the water and reached for her, grabbing her upper arms and righting her before she could topple. “That’s better,” he said, hauling her against him.
“It is. Thank you, Sir.”
Michael adjusted his hold, placing one hand above her buttocks, the other in the middle of her back.
“You saved me.” She stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
He turned to slant his mouth over hers.
With a soft sigh, she yielded to him, parting her lips and meeting the thrust of his tongue.
Hungry for her, he demanded her surrender, tasting, taking.
Syndey leaned into him more, looping her arms around his neck. When he ended the kiss, he pressed a finger to her swollen lips. “You look like a proper sub.”
“Looks are deceiving.”
Are they?
Despite her protest, she didn’t pull away.
He set her back from him, just a bit, and looked at her breasts, cradling them before capturing each nipple and rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers.
Closing her eyes, she moaned.
“Are they tender?”
“Achingly so,” she said.
He lowered his head and drew one into his mouth.
“Oh, Sir…”
Holding on tightly to him, she spread her legs and pressed her crotch against his leg.
“Only filthy girls hump like that.”
“Fine. I’m filthy.”
Mine.You’re fucking mine. He flexed his knee so he could help her brace against his thigh.
“Yum. I like this,” she confessed.
He resumed pinching and pulling her nipples, mindful of using a much lighter touch than he had last night. “Grind yourself against me.”
Slowly, she lowered herself, then began rubbing back and forth. “Do I have permission to come, Sir?”
“Since you asked so nice, yes.”
A smile ghosted around her lips. Then their gazes met before she closed her eyes and let him take more of her weight.
Wanting to support her, he reached behind her.
This would have been a much better idea on a firmer surface, preferably where he could lean against something. But it was more fun and challenging this way.
As she found her rhythm, she increased her speed.
Michael responded by smacking one of her butt cheeks while digging a hand into her hair.
“Mmm. That hurts,” she said.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“Are you crazy, Sir?”
He encouraged her as she ground out an orgasm, leaving his leg slightly damp. “You’re a hot little subbie,” he told her when the last aftershock had subsided, and she’d straightened her back.
“Thank you.” Her words held no gratitude. “But I don’t like that word.”
Why was it bothering her now? With a frown he studied her. “Talk to me.”
Water bubbled past them as her juices dried on his thigh.
“I tried it once. Didn’t like it. I prefer to be a man’s equal.”
He frowned.
She raked an unkempt strand of hair back from her face. “The word sub implies someone’s beneath you.”
“To me, it certainly does not.” He stepped carefully. This discussion vibrated with danger, and realization dawned.
If she believed that, it was no wonder she behaved as a brat, in the BDSM meaning of the word. No wonder she had very carefully drawn lines to keep men at bay and to get her kinky needs met. “Being a submissive, even twenty-four seven, would never diminish a woman I was involved with.” He took her shoulders in what he hoped was a reassuring grip. “In fact, to me, it’s a position of reverence. There are many women out there, but only one that I’d honor in that way.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Not convinced, Sir.”
“It didn’t seem to bother you when you were riding my leg.”
“You’re right about that. It didn’t. But it’s because I see you, this, as a scene, nothing more. I get my kink on, get off then I go home.”
“I see you, this, as a scene, nothing more.”Her well-aimed words made him wince. “You said you’d tried being a submissive and didn’t like it.” And the experience had left her wounded.
“It’s in the past.” With a sigh, she finished, “Which means it’s no longer relevant.”
“I disagree. You went through something you didn’t enjoy, and that affects what we share.” He struggled to keep anger from his words. “So yeah. It matters.” In fact, to him, it was a big fucking deal. “Now you equate submission with subservience?” he guessed.
“Among other things.” Fatalistically, as if it didn’t matter, she shrugged. “It wasn’t all bad. I learned what I like and what I don’t. I got out quick, and unscathed.”
The last part, he wasn’t sure of.
He wanted to suggest they dress, maybe sit on a rock, or return to the house where they could be more comfortable. But he didn’t want to shatter the moment.
“Now I spend time chasing my dreams.” She swept her hand wide. “It’s not any different from you owning half the state. We’ve made different choices. Mine are right for me. And I don’t have any hoofed pets.”
Michael resisted her attempts to divert the subject away from herself. “Who hurt you, Sydney?”
She exhaled.
Five minutes ago, she’d come apart in his arms. And now she was a totally different woman.
“You’re not going to quit until you get your answers.”
She was one hundred percent right. “Your earlier comment is an important one. That being submissive means someone is beneath you.”
Her jaw tightened, which told him all he needed to know. “I’m hoping you’ll trust me enough to continue the conversation. I want to understand you.”
The water caused goose bumps to rise on her skin. Either that, or it was a result of her emotional vulnerability.
“Lewis. That was his name.”
While she sorted through her thoughts, he waited.
“He collared me.” She scoffed. “I was young. Naive enough to believe in love and happily ever after. He was my first experience with BDSM.” She shrugged. “It was new. An adrenaline rush. As you can guess, I enjoyed it, and I went along with everything he said.”
“Because you didn’t know anything different.”
“And what happened?”
“Exactly.”
“After a few months, I got tired of being a doormat, of making him dinner so he could come home whenever the hell he wanted while I waited on my knees. And he didn’t want me working outside the house.”
Lewis wasn’t a Dom. He was an asshole who wanted total control.
Forcing himself to remain silent, Michael waited for her to speak again.
“Once, he locked me in our bedroom in that position for hours. He had a camera on me to ensure I didn’t move. I thought it would only be for a few minutes. But it wasn’t. Of course I got restless, so I shifted, then a couple of times I stood so I could stretch. I wasn’t allowed dinner, and he thrashed me for my disobedience.” She hesitated. “The bruises were still there almost two weeks later.”
Bastard.
“Then…” After trailing off, she gulped as if steadying her nerves. “The final thing that made me end it…”
Even after that, you stayed?
“He had a party one night at our place—his guy friends came over to play poker. He expected me to be their cocktail waitress, short dress, high heels. I was uncomfortable with the whole thing—I mean, they were vanilla friends, you know? I’d met their wives and girlfriends. It was humiliating.”
This time, her pause lasted a full thirty seconds, maybe more.
“Anyway, I accidentally spilled some whiskey, and Lewis snatched the bottle from me, then he grabbed my collar and yanked me over his lap.” As if trying to banish the memory, she rubbed her forearms. “He flipped my dress up then he started a horrible spanking. When his hand got tired, he told one of his friends to grab a big wooden spoon from the kitchen. I was screaming the entire time. That only made him madder.”
What in the actual fuck?
“So then he’s blistering my ass and my legs relentlessly, and I’m reaching back, trying to protect myself, and he’s catching my hands, my wrist bones, telling me he knows how much I liked it.”
Michael scowled. “Anything without your consent is abuse, Sydney.”
“Well, then his friends wanted to see him do it on my bare ass. So one of his friends yanked my panties down and then took out his dick to fuck me. I was frantic.” Her breaths came in frantic bursts. “We’d never discussed him sharing me, and I didn’t want this guy inside me. When I refused, Lewis was furious, shouting that I was his sub and had to do what he said. On some level, I realized he and his friends had planned this in advance. I kicked backward as hard as I could, catching that guy in the nuts. That caused enough of a commotion for me to get away.”
He curled his hands into fists. “I’ll fucking kill him.”
“It was a long time ago.”
To him, it wasn’t. Anyone who’d treat Sydney like that deserved to die. After suffering mightily for his crimes.
“Being his sub, wearing his collar meant I was a glorified servant.” She cupped her palms and used them to cover her eyes. “Someone to be used any way he wanted, and by anyone he chose.”
He ached to comfort her and had no damn clue what to do.
When she lowered her hands, a tear clung to her eyelashes. “I left with less money than I arrived with and a shit-pile less self-respect.”
That damnable tear spilled down onto her cheek, and he tenderly wiped it away. “You found the strength to walk away.”
“Walk?” She shook her head. “Ran. Left my belongings. Never went back. A friend of mine, Vanessa, put me in touch with Gregorio, and he helped me find a jeweler to cut my collar off. After that, I finally agreed to go to the Den with her. She’d been concerned about my relationship with Lewis for some time.” She shrugged. “Turns out she was right. Anyway, I accepted Vanessa’s invitation to a Ladies’ Night party there, and I’ve been going ever since. It’s safe. Controlled.”
No wonder you don’t go home with any men.
Forcing a smile that looked fake, she finished, “Is that what you expected to hear?”
He tamped back his rage in order to care for her. “Thank you for telling me.”
Her shoulders rolled forward as she expelled a deep breath.
“I’ll address you in any way you prefer. And I assure you, I have nothing but the utmost respect for you and what we share.”
She flipped her hair back. Now he recognized the gesture as self-protective nonchalance.
“You’re not like him.” Her words lacked conviction. “I know that.”
Do you?
“Lewis and I didn’t use a safe word, and I didn’t have one for slow.”
“With me, you have both, and I encourage you to use them. A relationship—especially a D/s one—requires constant nurturing and refinement. But I also think it’s more freeing. With fewer societal constraints, there are more opportunities to be authentic. You ask or state—we negotiate.”
“It doesn’t matter, does it? In a few minutes, I’ll be leaving, and I may never see you again…”
That wasn’t what he wanted, and he’d do anything for one more night.
“Before you demand something that I don’t want to give.”
“Look, Sydney, in a D/s, a real D/s, I only have the power that you entrust to me. It’s yours to give, not mine to take.”
“Sounds like a fantasy.”
“Lewis was an abusive shithead. A true Dom looks after your needs, puts your best interests first. He’ll nurture and protect you.”
“Again, idealism.” She scoffed. “Been there, done that. No desire to get on that ride again. At this point, nothing matters more to me than my independence.”
“After what you’ve been through, you’re right to be cautious.” And he’d still like to come face-to-face with Lewis, anytime, anyplace.
“Look, Sir—Michael—I’m not looking for a Dominant. I want a Top I can scene with, and nothing more.”
A loud splash grabbed his attention.
In front of him, Sydney’s eyes widened, but before she could utter a word, something plowed into the backs of his legs.
Sydney momentarily steadied him so he didn’t slip as he turned. “Chewie.”
“Is it safe for her to be in the river?”
“You’re more worried about her than me?” he demanded.
“Uhm… About that…” She smiled.
“Goats can swim,” he assured her.
“Seriously?”
“But she’ll need a bath.”
“I look forward to watching.”
Which meant Sydney might not be rushing off—the thought gave him some hope.
“And I’m fine, too. Thanks for asking.” The goat’s arrival had shattered the tension, and he wasn’t sure he welcomed that. The conversation had been important, and he wanted to know more about her. “Spend the day with me?” he invited. “We have a lot of things to discuss.”
“I can’t.” She shook her head.
Her teasing tone held no regret.
“I have a pile of things to do at home, laundry, packing. I leave town tomorrow and I’ll be gone for ten days.”
A story so you can escape? “I’d better make you a hearty breakfast before you go.”
“You cook?” Her eyes widened.
“I have a housekeeper who does my cleaning and shopping. Every once in a while, she’ll make a meal, and I appreciate it. But my grandfather believed all men should know how to cook.” He shrugged. “Probably from being on the range, away from the house so much. He and Grandma made sure I’m self-sufficient. I can manage biscuits and gravy for breakfast, along with bacon and eggs. From the ranch’s chickens.”
“Fresh eggs?”
“I get a few a day.”
“There’s nothing better. I like to go to the local farmer’s market, but sometimes I don’t get there early enough, and they’re already sold out.”
“Whatever is your preference, I can probably whip them up. Scrambled, poached, fried.”
“Is there still some coffee left?”
“I’ll brew you a fresh pot.”
She opened her mouth then shut it.
“Are you interested?”
“Yes, please. It turns out that I’ve burned a lot of energy since last night.”
“That’s two of us.”
Chewie bleated.
“Let’s get you dry,” he told Sydney, exiting the river and offering her a hand to help her over the rocks.
Chewie followed, staying close to see what they were doing.
On the bank, he wadded his shirt and used it to pat Sydney’s chest dry.
“The water didn’t cause you much shrinkage, Sir.”
“Seems to be a constant condition when you’re naked.” The sun emerged from behind a cloud, and he told her, “Turn around.”
Once she had, he dried the rest of her body. When he was finished, he gave one cheek a quick pinch.
With a yelp, she faced him.
“Payback for the shrinkage comment,” he informed her.
She wrinkled her nose. “I suppose that’s fair. And speaking of fair, can I dry you?”
By way of an answer, he offered his shirt.
She rubbed it across his head then shaped his hair with her fingers.
“This one piece likes to curl,” she said.
“Bane of my existence.”
“It’s cute.”
“I don’t do cute,” he said, his words all but a growl.
“Still, it’s adorable.”
He captured her wrist.
“Adorable, Sir,” she amended.
“That’s better.” With a grin, he released her.
She continued to draw the cotton down his chest. She boldly took his now-erect cock and moved it so she could dry the lower part of his stomach. Then she knelt to lick his balls.
“Damn, Sydney…”
“Oh. Oops. Seems I caused you to get damp again.” Looking up at him, she wiped a fingertip across the slit in his penis.
Then she raised the pre-ejaculate to her mouth and licked it off.
It was a good thing she had to leave soon. Otherwise he might not let her go.
Resuming her ministrations, she dried his thighs and shins. “Turn around for me.”
It took her a long time to dry his backside, even tracing up the insides of his thighs, over his perineum, and parting his buttocks to daub them.
“Not sure that part was wet.”
“Being thorough, Sir.”
“Being a temptress,” he countered. But he didn’t stop her. This kind of brattiness, he liked.
The clouds had drifted away, and the summer sun blazed. Though he’d be dry in seconds anyway, there was no way in hell he was going to stop her.
A minute or so later, she placed her hands on his waist and used him for balance as she stood.
She slid the makeshift towel across his shoulders, taking her time drying them, then his chest. Much too soon, she said, “All done.”
Michael turned to cup her shoulders.
Everything about her appealed to him, her windswept hair, compact, muscular body, and red marks—his—on her skin.
In such a short time, she’d gotten to him.
Grinning, she offered back his shirt. He shook it out, and that grabbed Chewie’s attention. The pest trotted over, angling her head as she tried to snatch it from his hand.
Sydney laughed.
“Always funny when it’s my clothes,” he observed.
“Definitely, Sir.”
They dressed while Chewie kept an interested, thieving, eye on them.
“She’s opportunistic,” he warned.
“Cunning is more like it,” Sydney replied, hurriedly tying her shoelaces.
He picked up their cups, and they walked back to the house side by side while Chewie trotted ahead of them and kept glancing back. When she approached a big rock, she walked up it, stood on top, and looked into the distance.
“She really is agile.”
“You’re lucky you didn’t find her on one of our vehicles this morning.”
“That could cause some damage.”
“Mostly she behaves herself.”
“Just like me,” Sydney replied.
“Yeah.” He couldn’t help but laugh. “Just like you.”
Once they neared the house, Chewie went toward the barn. Michael held open the gate for Sydney, and she walked to her car to grab a bag.
“Mind if I take a quick shower, Sir?”
“Help yourself. Or feel free to take a bath. I’ll get another pot of coffee going then I’ll bring you a cup.”
“Thank you.”
By the time he entered his suite, she was dressed, her damp hair curling against her face. How was it possible he was already so accustomed to having her around?
“Can I do anything to help with breakfast?” she asked, accepting her cup with a smile.
“You could set the table. I’m sure you’ll find everything you need.”
She traced her fingertips across his chest before heading downstairs.
Anxious to spend as much time together as possible before she left, he showered in record time.
When he joined her, she had placed a handful of columbines in a small vase near his placemat. The sight of her leaning across the width of the table to pour orange juice into a glass was even better.
While he fried the bacon, she perched on a barstool and propped her chin on her hands. “This is a treat.”
“It’s a chore I enjoy.”
“I’m not a fan. Lewis expected homecooked meals, and I came to resent his expectations.”
“No one likes to be taken for granted.” He cracked half a dozen eggs into a bowl, then added milk—sans cream—and tossed in some salt and pepper.
“What are you going to eat?” she teased.
He glanced up. “You’ve got a healthy appetite?”
“Always, and I’m planning to hit the gym later,” she said.
“Do you have a workout bag in your car, too?” he reached into the carton for a couple more eggs.
“Prepared for anything, anytime.”
Also the result of your relationship with Lewis?
“I’m never in one place for too long.”
“Has it always been that way?”
“Except for that one failed attempt at a relationship.” She took a sip of her coffee. “I inherited my parents’ love of the world. The story goes that I was conceived in Sydney, Australia. Hence, my name.”
“Clever.”
“Glad that didn’t happen when they were in Kuala Lumpur.”
“Right?”
“Anyway, I was born in the United States, but I spent my first birthday in Budapest. My second in London.” She picked a strawberry from a bowl on the bar and popped it into her mouth. “From what I’ve been told, I took my first steps in Geneva. Learned to ski in Utah.”
Which explained a lot about her.
“Dad is quite a bit older than Mom, and he’d inherited some money. He worked as a consultant, and that took him all over the world. So she went with him. They didn’t accumulate a lot of worldly goods, believing experiences were more important than things.”
“Hard to disagree with that.”
After biting into a second berry, she picked up the threads of her story. “I think I was unexpected—not unwelcome, but not planned. So their philosophy was to throw me in a backpack and keep going.”
When breakfast was ready, she helped him carry the platters of food to the table.
She snagged a piece of bacon before he could serve it. “This might do the trick.”
“Trick?” he repeated, frowning in confusion. “What are you talking about?” He pulled back a chair for her.
“You cook. Crispy bacon. Fluffy eggs. And you brew an amazing pot of coffee. It might get me to accept another invitation.”
“If I’d known it was that easy…” He took the chair next to hers. “And I was planning to offer to tie you to the fence and flog you to sweeten the pot.”
The piece of bacon dropped from her fingertips. “Well, you certainly do know how to capture a girl’s interest, Sir.”
“That’s my intent.” He spooned eggs onto her plate.
After taking the first bite, she saluted him with her fork. “This is amazing.”
Her pleasure sustained him.
As they ate, they talked about ranch life.
Afterward, she carried their dishes to the sink, then returned with the coffee pot. As she refilled their cups, she regarded him.
“What’s bothering you?” he asked.
“How do you keep doing that? Reading my mind?”
“You’ve got an expressive face.” Sitting back, he waited for her to take the carafe back to the kitchen.
When she was across from him again, she said, “I’m curious about what happened to your marriage.”
Though he didn’t like to talk about it, he wanted to see her again. Gaining her trust was more important than his need to compartmentalize his past. “After we were married, she shifted her expectations about BDSM and sex. What had been fun was now forbidden.”
“I see.”
“It turns out”—painful as it was to admit—“she wanted the security that came along with marrying me.” He took a drink, then slammed the mug down with more force than he’d intended, and coffee sloshed onto the table.
Without a word, Sydney blotted the spill with a napkin.
“Not me, specifically. Any man of means would have done.”
She winced. “I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.” Still, the painful lessons lingered. “One night, after a couple of glasses of wine, I tried to kiss her. She turned away.” That memory burned. “She finally said we wouldn’t be having sex ever again, and I wanted children.” He looked out the window, surveying a tiny portion of the holdings. “It’s a great place to grow up.”
“I’m sure it is.” So different from the way she was raised.
When he looked back, she was still considering him, head tipped to one side.
“She hadn’t told you this before?”
“No. The ending of the relationship was devastating, but she tried to get half of the ranch. It took a lot of skillful financial moves to hold on to it.”
Her mouth fell open.
“I believe she was having an affair.” He shrugged. “Never proved it, and she denied it. Not that it mattered in the end.” But his next relationship would have an ironclad prenuptial agreement. “Mine was the first marriage in family history to crash and burn.”
Quietly, she waited for him to go on.
“Last I heard, she has two children.”
“With the other guy?”
He shrugged. “Since I never knew whether or not she was cheating, I can’t say.”
“But she lied about the kids part.”
“Maybe not. Perhaps she didn’t want children with me.”
On his behalf, Sydney winced.
“Are you sorry you asked?”
“No. And I appreciate you telling me. It had to hurt.”
“Like you, I’m no longer idealistic. I still want a family, but I’ll be a whole lot more careful about my choice in women.”
As if a chill had gone through her, she shivered.
“You were honest with me. You deserved to hear the unvarnished truth from me.”
She nodded and pushed back her chair. “In that case, this arrangement could be successful for both of us. I’m looking for a Top. You’re being cautious about who you get involved with.”
Her statement pissed him off, though he was loath to admit why.
Together, they cleaned the kitchen. He loaded the dishwasher while she cleared the table.
“This has been a wonderful experience,” she said, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “Thanks for having me out to your ranch.”
“You’re welcome anytime.”
Though she smiled, it seemed more forced than genuine. “And, ah…I need to get going.”
Within five minutes, she’d gathered her belongings and headed for the back door.
He joined her, following her down the path.
Chewie grazed beyond the fence, exactly where she was supposed to be.
Sydney used her key fob to unlock the vehicle, then placed her purse and other belongings on the back seat.
Before she could escape, he slapped both of his palms on the roof, on either side of her head, making her jump. “Before you go…”
She frowned.
“Turn around.”
“I…”
In his sternest voice, he repeated his order.
Trembling slightly, she did as he said.
Michael moved her a foot or so to the right, then he grabbed her hands and pinned them together at the small of her back.
Once she was captive, helpless, he spanked her delectable butt cheeks several times, hard, until she gasped. Then he placed a kiss on the side of her neck and released her.
Gently, hands on her shoulders, he turned her back to face him. “There’s more of this anytime you’re interested.”
Her eyes opened wide, and her breaths came in ragged little bursts.
“After all, you did select all of the above earlier. Which means I still need to tie you to the fence for your flogging.”
He wanted her thinking about it, imagining it, craving it. Mostly, he wanted her to come back to him.
Where she belonged.