Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
Master Michael’s sexy, dominant purr melted her from the inside out, and she collapsed her shoulders against the refrigerator.
“Glad to be home?”
Colorado was a great base, but she’d always considered it a temporary place to stay while she decided what she wanted to do next.
This time, though, she’d been happy to return, no matter how small and unimaginative her home was. She’d told herself it had nothing to do with seeing him again, but she knew she’d been lying to herself. “I am.”
For a moment, she paused. It would be easy to fall into an inane conversation. When he’d answered the phone, he’d called her Sydney, rather than by the nickname he’d used during their time together.
“Thank you for asking, Sir. I spent a few days in Miami with my girlfriends from college, then I guided a pair of honeymooners on a hike of the Continental Divide. They couldn’t wait for me to pitch the tents at night, and it took them a while to get up in the mornings. I had a lot of free time.”
“Same for me. I occupied myself by looking at your new shoes and imagining you in them.”
Her breath vaporized. “I was thinking about that flogger.”
“It was custom-made for you. I have others, but I wanted you to be able to endure a long, long session.”
She allowed the appliance to take more of her weight. “I noticed it matches the outfit,” she said, aiming for a casualness she was nowhere close to feeling.
“Always an added bonus.” He allowed silence to gather for a few seconds before speaking again. “I’m glad you called.”
Her shoulders loosened as tension unwound. How did he always know the right thing to say? “I didn’t know if it would be okay.”
“My Sydney, I’m on the porch drinking a glass of wine and looking at the fence.”
Her heart missed its next beat.
“I wasn’t sure when you’d be back, and I also suspected you needed time to sort through your thoughts. I wasn’t going to call you, but I was hoping you’d contact me.”
So he’d been waiting for her to make the next move. She appreciated that he wasn’t trying to crowd her. By calling the Den and getting her contact information, he’d reached out and let her know he was interested in her.
“Did you masturbate while you were gone?”
What? His question caught her off guard, so much so that she answered without hesitating. “No.” She pushed herself upright and paced the kitchen floor. “I was too tired when I got to bed in Miami—there’s quite a nightlife.”
“And on the hike, the couple didn’t inspire you?”
She imagined his smile. “That’s not the right word. I was frustrated more than anything.”
“Tell me why,” he encouraged in that seductive, thrilling voice of his.
When he spoke to her in that tone, she’d do anything for him. “I want to have a real experience, not just a fantasy.”
“I can certainly arrange that.”
Her insides turned molten.
“When are you available?”
She wanted to say now, if not sooner, but she tried to act nonchalant. “I’m fairly flexible at the moment, except for my upcoming mud race.”
“You mentioned that.”
“It’s challenging and fun, and since we do it to benefit one of my favorite charities, I never miss a year. The part where I crawl beneath barbed wire is my favorite.”
“Playing with you will force me to be creative.”
Right now, things seemed perfect. She spun around. Maybe Jacqueline had been right. Sydney spent so much time thinking about the future that she often robbed the moment of its pleasures. “I have no complaints, Sir. So far.”
“I’ve said before that you like to live on the edge.”
She laughed. “True story.”
“How’s tomorrow for you?” he asked.
Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. “Sounds good.”
“You’re welcome here, or I am happy to come to you.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I prefer to drive up.” As always, she wanted the ability to leave when she desired.
“Of course.”
“What time would you like me to arrive?”
“How about early afternoon? Do you remember the code for the gate? Or if you want to call when you’re in Winter Park, I’ll meet you somewhere and we could have lunch.”
While that sounded tempting, she was anxious to scene. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m good. I remember the combination.”
“Would you like me to text the specific directions?”
Since it had gotten a little confusing after leaving the main road, she appreciated the offer. “That would be great, Sir.”
“Bring the new outfit. Oh, and Sydney?”
“Sir?”
“Tonight? Don’t masturbate. I want you aroused and frustrated when you get here.”
His voice, so masterful, chilled her. Until this moment, she hadn’t been thinking about touching herself. Now the idea consumed her.
“Please acknowledge what I said.”
Are you serious? “But…” Knowing she was going to see him ratcheted her desire up to a whole new level. “It’s been ten days.”
“Then a few more hours won’t matter a bit.”
She sighed. “Of course you’re right.” Her own words gave her an illicit thrill. She insisted she wasn’t a sub, but when he gave her commands like that, part of her melted, as if doing what he said—even outside a scene—were the most natural thing in the world. “I won’t masturbate, Sir.”
“You have no idea how much your obedience pleases me.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
After the call ended, her skin seemed to hum with energy. Knowing she had to burn it off or go crazy, she changed into running shorts and shoes, then put on a sports bra and lightweight top. Finally, she pulled her hair into a ponytail before exiting the condo.
To warm up her body, she started with a gentle jog down the street before crossing over and heading toward Evergreen Lake.
A path encircled the picturesque forty-acre lake, and she entered on the dam side. She zoned out as she turned up the dial on her pace. It didn’t take long for her to regulate her breathing and work up a sweat as she neared the Lake House. Sydney hardly noticed the other pedestrians or bicyclists, or the elk and deer grazing in the brush. She startled a rabbit at one point, but that barely distracted her.
Finally, more than twenty minutes later, breathless, she slowed to a walk for the trek back to her place.
Once she’d cooled off, she took another shower, then after changing into pajamas, fell onto the bed.
The thoughts she’d been trying to outrun—those of Master Michael—plowed into her, in rich, vivid detail as she recalled him spanking her at the Den, claiming her in his home. And now that he’d ordered her not to touch herself, there was nothing she wanted to do more.
After tossing and turning for an hour, noticing how needy her pussy felt, she threw back the sheet in frustration and climbed out of bed.
She grabbed a blanket and went onto the patio to stare at the sky in her version of meditation. Instead of counting sheep, she counted stars. She got to the high five hundreds before managing to harness her thoughts.
When she reached the mid six hundreds, she started to drift off. Sometime before dawn, she woke up chilled and made her way back inside to bed. By the time she reawakened, the sun was beating through her window, warming her up.
After frying a couple of eggs, drinking half a pot of coffee, and updating her website, suggesting some creative late-summer outings, and adding a lovely testimony supplied by the newlyweds, she hit the shower.
As she stood under the spray, contemplating her trip to Master Michael’s ranch, she was suddenly unnerved.
Last time, she and Master Michael had spent time at the Den before making the journey to his place. This time, it was daylight. Though she knew his expectations, she was less certain how to behave. Should she wear her outfit? That seemed a bit much given that she would arrive in the early afternoon.
Shorts seemed too casual. And at his elevation, the air could be chillier than it was down here. Immediately she discarded the idea of a dress that would demand sandals. After her experience with Chewie and trying to navigate the uneven terrain, she knew how ridiculous heels were.
A trip to a working ranch demanded boots and jeans, and probably a hat of some kind. Except, she was going there for one purpose—to get her butt spanked.
With a sigh, she threw an assortment of options in an overnight bag—not that she was planning to stay more than a few hours. She simply wanted to be prepared. Or that was what she told herself.
Following a lot of consideration and some amount of anguish, going through her drawers and flipping aside numerous hangers, she opted for a form-fitting hiking skirt. Then she pulled on a lightweight summer shirt with a black bra beneath. Because she knew she was seeing him, her whole body was already sensitized.
After adding her sexy new outfit to her bag, Sydney slipped on a pair of sturdy flat sandals meant for trekking. They were serviceable enough for his rugged environment, but also comfortable enough to drive in.
When she climbed behind the wheel and lowered the windows to let out some of the daytime heat, she sent him a text message to let him know she was on her way.
The drive took forever, something more to do with her excitement and anticipation at having her sexual desires fulfilled than the actual miles involved. She was glad the road demanded her full attention. At least it kept her from obsessing.
Mostly.
Views from Berthoud Pass stole her breath, and Winter Park was streaming with summer visitors. As she passed through the lush green, high-mountain valley, she glimpsed occasional clumps of wildflowers.
Once she left the main road, her pulse picked up a few extra beats. She knew it wasn’t from the altitude since she hadn’t had a single problem when she was standing on top of the Continental Divide.
As she braked to a stop near the gate, a tall, lanky man of indeterminate age slid off a utility vehicle.
She entered the property, then kept her foot on the brake as he ambled over.
“Welcome to Eagle’s Bend. I’m Jeb, the ranch foreman.” He touched the brim of a well-worn cowboy hat, its creased leather discolored, perhaps from numerous hours beneath the relentless mountain sun.
“Michael asked me to keep an eye out for you.” He extended a calloused, weathered hand in her direction.
The gesture was considerate of both of them. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you.”
“It’s a pleasure. I’ll let you be on your way, ma’am.”
In her rearview mirror, she watched him pick up a two-way communication device, say something, then hop back on the motorized vehicle, taking off in the direction of the bunkhouse.
Master Michael was waiting near the fence, one boot heel hooked behind him on the lowest rail, with a look so sexy it was probably outlawed in half the world. His ever-present hat was angled slightly forward.
Jeans rode low on his slim hips, and as usual, his shirtsleeves were folded back to the elbow. He appeared at ease, lord and master of all he surveyed. And right now, he was looking at her.
Adrenaline tripped through her.
As she parked beneath a tree, he pushed away from the fence.
When he reached her vehicle, he opened her door and offered his hand.
Her heart fluttered as she accepted.
She couldn’t imagine Lewis ever behaving with such elegant manners. Had she judged Master Michael, and maybe others, too hastily?
“You look fabulous,” he said.
“I…” She pulled her hand away and nervously smoothed the front of her skirt. “Didn’t know what to wear.”
“This is perfect. You did bring the outfit that’s kept me up nights?”
“I wouldn’t dare forget it, Sir. It’s in my blue duffel bag.”
“I’ll grab it,” he said, opening the back door. “Anything else?”
“No. Everything I need is in there.”
He nodded.
“Jeb met me at the gate. Nice man.”
“He’s been on the ranch since before I was born. Couldn’t manage without him.” After closing both doors, he indicated that she should precede him to the house.
Before heading down the path, she glanced around. “Where’s the petty thief?”
“Chewie is annoying the hands who are checking the fence.”
“Better them than me.” But she didn’t mean it. She had already developed an affection for the miniature nuisance.
“I’ll take your bag upstairs,” he said as they entered the house. “Would you like to go with it?”
She laughed. “Was that your subtle way of telling me to change my clothes, Sir?”
“Actually, I was asking if you needed to freshen up. I was going to invite you to join me for a glass of lemonade.”
Lemonade? She blinked. What about sceneing?
“I thought it was polite to allow you to settle in before ripping off your clothes and bending you over.”
“Screw politeness. Sir.”
He pushed the brim of his hat back a little, far enough that she had a better look at his sizzling green eyes. “But now that you mention it…” He dropped her bag on the kitchen floor. The resulting thud echoed through the open space.
Under his scrutiny, she grew warm.
“What kind of panties are you wearing?”
Oh, yes. He was one hundred percent Dom. This was what she’d craved. “Boy shorts, Sir.”
“Like the first night?”
“Yes.” And as she recalled, he’d pocketed the panties and never returned them.
“What color?”
“Pink.” She smiled. “And this particular pair is my favorite.” The edges were lacy, making the stretchy material serviceable, but also cute. “Are you planning to add them to your collection?”
“That’s a hell of an idea.”
His footfalls resounded off the hardwood planks, and her heart thumped a terrific tattoo.
“Raise your skirt for me.”
Her hands suddenly trembling from nerves, from excitement, she did as he said.
“Be my good girl and turn and spread your legs as far apart as you can.”
Not knowing what to expect made her delirious. She hadn’t been here two minutes, and already he’d taken control instead of spending half an hour on inane pleasantries.
Then in a great surprise, he took hold of her boy shorts and yanked them up hard between the crack of her ass, making her gasp from the shock.
“That’s better,” he said. “Your buttocks are beautiful, unblemished by a single mark.”
It had been too long.
“They won’t look that way when you leave.”
A thrill danced through her. This was what she wanted. “I figured as much, Sir.”
“You’re going to stay in position for me, aren’t you?”
Before she could respond, he reached one hand in front of her to capture the front of the fabric.
He worked the material back and forth between her folds, abrading her most sensitive area. Having no option, she began to move in time with him.
“You’re getting your panties damp, naughty girl.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He increased the friction, and she began to whimper.
Staying in place became more and more difficult as he worked his magic over her. “Oh, Sir… Sir, Sir, Sir!”
“Did you masturbate?”
“No, Sir! I promise.”
“Then this has to feel maddening.”
“It does. Very much so, Sir.”
“How long has it been since you came?”
How did he expect her to think? “When I was here last, Sir. Not since.”
He all but lifted her from the ground, making her squeal.
“You must want an orgasm.”
“I do. Please. Please, Sir.”
“You’re compliant when you think you’re going to get what you want, aren’t you?”
In this moment, she’d agree to anything.
Abruptly, he released her, leaving her maddeningly on edge.
In frustration, she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Stay where you are.”
Though her pussy throbbed, she followed his order.
“That’s it.”
Please, please spank me.
But he didn’t. Instead, he left her panties where they were, wedged tightly between her legs, and lowered her skirt back into place.
“Are you serious right now, Sir?” she demanded when he stood in front of her.
“One hundred percent.”
She pulled her hair back into a momentary ponytail before once again dropping the strands.
“I think I invited you to join me for a lemonade.”
Had she ever met a more annoying Dominant? Especially since the only thing she wanted was some impact play and a dozen or so climaxes.
“Feel free to freshen up, if you wish.” With a devilish smile, he stroked her cheek before picking up her bag and carrying it up the stairs.
Her whole body vibrating with need, she followed him to his suite.
After placing her belongings on a closet shelf, he faced her. “I’ll be on the patio, and I expect that your panties will be in this same position when you come outside.” Intimidatingly, he folded his arms. “Do I need to stay here and watch you to be sure you don’t do anything to…alleviate your discomfort?”
“Maybe, Sir.”
“In that case…” He planted his feet shoulder-width apart.
From other Doms, that kind of sass would have earned her a spanking. But he wasn’t a man she could goad, and she didn’t like it. “Actually, uhm… I’m good. You can believe what I say, Sir.”
“By your own admission, that may not be true.”
Because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut, she’d gotten herself in a predicament. She should have known better. After all, she’d told her friends that he tortured her by withholding what she wanted most.
Stubbornly, he even followed her into the bathroom.
Wishing she’d had even a few minutes of privacy, she finished drying her hands.
“Shall we?”
Managing to keep her mouth shut this time, she nodded and followed him back downstairs, then outside where a tray waited.
There were two tall glasses and a pitcher filled with the refreshing-looking lemonade. Off to the side was a board topped with olives, cheeses, and meats. “You’ve thought of everything.”
“I know how long the drive can be.”
With old-world manners, he waited until she sat before taking his chair.
Deciding she might as well relax because the damned Dominant was going to move at his own glacial pace, she kicked off her shoes and sat back, feet curled beneath her, and surveyed the landscape. “This is a totally different view than the one from the front of the house,” she observed. “Far fewer trees.” Since there were no buildings, it was much more serene.
“The river convinced my grandfather to buy, but he built the house over here so that he could take advantage of all the vistas, and this has a beauty all of its own. May I pour you a glass of lemonade? It may be a bit tart for your taste, but it’s refreshing.”
“You made it yourself?”
“It’s from my grandmother’s recipe. And it’s one I enjoy.”
“You definitely know what you like, Sir. I’m getting that message loud and clear.”
“About time,” he fired back pointedly.
With a tiny sigh, she accepted the glass and took a sip. “Oh my God, it’s wonderful. Tart, as you say, but sweet at the same time. Best lemonade I’ve ever had.”
“I keep trying to convince you to trust me with your well-being, Sydney.”
“As you know, Sir, that’s something I have little interest in giving. Nothing personal.” Though the admission made her a little uncomfortable, she wanted to be straight with him. “I came here for one reason.”
“You’ll get that. And I’ll eventually earn your trust.”
Which was suddenly getting a little too complicated for her.
“Challenge accepted?”
Since it wasn’t a bet she could lose, she nodded.
“Please stand, turn away from me, lift your skirt, bend over, and grab your ankles.”
Since the patio was on the opposite side from any of the ranch’s buildings, they had privacy. Happily, she slid her drink onto the table then stood, her back to him, and slowly pulled up her skirt.
Since he’d been such a torment, she took her sweet time getting herself into the position he required.
Master Michael left her there for long moments, the sun kissing her skin, a gentle breeze cooling her between the legs.
Slowly, he stood and came up behind her to slide a finger beneath the elastic of her panties then between her labia. “Your pussy is so very wet. I might think you enjoy me withholding orgasm.”
She exhaled her frustration. “It’s anticipation of completion, Sir.”
He continued to move back and forth until she swayed in time with his touch. “You’ve got a beautiful body, Sydney.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“So responsive.” He grasped her underwear in much the same way that he had earlier in the kitchen, see-sawing the material harshly over her clit.
Holding her ankles was nearly impossible as he abraded her pussy. She wanted to stand up, to face him, ride his thigh like she had in the river.
Deftly, he brought her to the brink.
Wondering if there was any way she could manage a small orgasm without him knowing it, she squeezed her eyes shut.
Right then, he snapped the elastic waistband of her panties, and the tiny prick of pain distracted her from the imminent climax.
“You’re close,” he said.
“Yes. Yes, Sir.” Very. She lifted her heels off the ground, unsure if he would really continue to withhold what she wanted, or whether he was testing her.
“Good.” He moved faster.
Her legs began to quake. “Oh, oh, Sir. Oh!”
“Would you like to orgasm?”
“Yes! Please, Sir.”
He stopped.
She let out a shaky, vexed sigh. Tears stung the backs of her eyes.
“You’re my good girl, Sydney,” he murmured. “You’re not arguing with me.”
He couldn’t possibly have any idea how difficult that was for her.
Shocking her, he caught a handful of her hair at the root. But because of the way he held her, it didn’t hurt.
“Stand.”
Master Michael helped her, but before she could face him, he kept his hand where it was, preventing her from moving.
“Now kneel for me.”
Again, he was there to help her.
“Legs a little farther apart,” he said, finally releasing his grip on her hair.
Her skirt still around her waist, she complied. Desperately she wished she could look at him so she could decipher his expression. But everything he did was intentional.
Her skirt hung askew, and a gentle breeze cooled her heated pussy.
“Thank me.”
“For what, Sir?”
“My attentions.”
“But I didn’t get to—” She shut her mouth. “Thank you, Sir.”
“I’m not ready for you to come yet.”
“Anything you say, Sir.” He was behaving much more like a Dom than a Top… And it was as annoying as hell.
He moved around to stand in front of her, his crotch at eye level.
“Now you’re going to suck my dick,” he told her. “And you’re going to do a good job of it.”
That she liked to do. She fumbled with his belt, then the fastening on his jeans, and he offered no help, seeming to enjoy watching her struggle.
After finally freeing him, she greedily sucked his cockhead into her mouth. She loved the clean taste of him and his intoxicatingly male scent.
Since he was already semihard, it took no time to get him fully erect. Power pulsed through her as she aroused him.
Master Michael pumped his hips a bit, forcing her to take more of his length. Then as she shifted to get a better angle, he withdrew.
Puzzled, Sydney sat back on her calves and frowned up at him. Was he really going to spend the whole night frustrating her?
“You’re great at that.” His eyelids were partially lowered, and from that she knew that he, too, would prefer they continue.
“I am happy to finish you off, Sir.”
“I’d like that…later. There’s something unutterably rewarding about a state of denial, isn’t there?”
“I’ve been told it’s uncomfortable for men.”
“It can be,” he agreed.
“So then…?”
“I don’t ask you to suffer anything that I’m unwilling to endure.”
His response surprised her. A thought like that would have never entered Lewis’s head.
As she watched, Master Michael stroked his cock a few times, then readjusted himself, zipped his pants and re-fastened his jeans. “Your new shoes are in the bedroom closet.”
“Would you like me to model my new outfit?”
“Later.”
“Sir?”
“For now, I’d like to see you only in the shoes.”
Eagerness shot through her.
“I don’t want any article of clothing getting in the way while I flog you.”
The sexy, rough tone to his words almost made her come.
He offered his hand to help her back to her feet, and she took it.
“They’re in a box on a shelf near your bag.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Meet me back out here, wearing just the shoes. You’ve got three minutes.”
Which was barely enough time to dart up the stairs and manage everything he’d asked.
“If you keep me waiting…”
The words—threat—hung between them. He didn’t need to finish his statement. He might not spank her, but he most certainly would withhold her much-needed orgasm. “I’ll be right back, Sir.”
“You’re down to two minutes and forty-five seconds.”