by Desiree Holt
“Let’s get the business out of the way first,” he said. “I realized, especially after last night, what a rotten thing it was to do. The money didn’t matter, and it seemed I was only hurting myself…and you. I took care of it all this morning while you were out. The Spur is safe.”
“Until the bank gets hold of it,” she pointed out in disgust. “You could just wait for that and buy it from them.”
“That’s not what I want to do. Please.” God, he was so bad at begging. “I already called John Morrison and told him I’m not trying to break the will anymore. I want us to own this place together.”
“Why?” she demanded. “So you can drop in every now and then from New York and make a fool of me again? Forget it.”
With her resisting every inch of the way, he dragged her until her body was pressed against his. “I don’t want to make a fool of you, Zoe. I want…want us to be together.”
His words shocked her into silence. Good. He could get the rest of it out.
“Last night—” He swallowed. “You’re right. Last night I set out to show you what I was really like. Why you should leave me alone, run as far away from me as you could get. But two things changed the way I thought.”
“What things?” she whispered.
“I discovered that I actually gave you pleasure. That you really liked the things I did to you. With you. That you had a hidden submissive side that only needed the right Dom to bring it out into the open. And the second thing.”
He stopped. He had to make himself say this.
“The second thing?” she prompted.
“I discovered I had real feelings for you. You’re right, you aren’t a little girl anymore. You are a warm, smart, giving woman whose sexual appetite, I truly believe, matches mine. I want a chance to explore that, and if we’re on opposite sides of a fence, that won’t happen.”
“What kind of feelings?” Her eyes searched his face.
“I could call them love, but Zoe, I’m not sure I know what love really is. I’ve lived without it for so long. But you’re the first person who’s ever made me want to try and understand it. Feel it.”
She didn’t try to pull away again, but she was silent for so long an icy finger of fear traveled down his spine. If she turned away from him, he didn’t know what he’d do. For the first time in his entire life, he wanted something so badly he’d do anything to get it.
“When are you leaving?” she asked.
“Leaving?” he frowned.
“Yes. Going back to New York. To your life there.”
He hoped what he had to say next got to her. That she’d believe him.
“I’m going back next week to talk to my partners. They wanted to open an office in this area to deal with a lot of our clients who have interests in Austin and San Antonio and even further west. I’m going to tie up loose ends there, work out the deal with them, and come home to the Spur.”
“Home?” Her eyes widened.
“Home,” he repeated. “To you. And the ranch. Can you help me out here, Zoe? I’ll probably make a lot of mistakes, but I really want this.”
Again the silence stretched. Finally, she gave him a tiny smile. “Well, I suppose if I don’t, you can always tie me up and spank me.”
His laugh was shaky, but his arms around her were strong as he pulled her against him once more. “It would be my pleasure.”
His mouth descended on hers, and when she opened for him, his tongue swept in like a marauder. Her taste invaded his senses, her tongue danced with his like a whisper of flame, and the hunger raging within him took and took and took.
****
“Evening, Zoe. Wade.”
Clint Chavez greeted them as they walked into the lounge at Rawhide.
“Hey, Clint.” Wade shook his hand.
Zoe grinned. “Nice to see you.”
Clint laughed. “You certainly see me a lot. Not that we don’t love having you here, but don’t you think it’s time you set up your own playroom?”
“Working on it,” Wade said. “Got our room ready?”
Clint pulled a key card from his pocket and held it out. “All set.”
Zoe was so excited she was shivering.
So much had happened since what she and Wade referred to as The Night. A lot of hours had gone into working out their problems. At times, to Zoe, it seemed as if there were so many they would never fix things. Wade indeed bit the bullet on the handshake with the developers and killed the prospective deal. He spent a week with her checking out all the details on the ranch, looking over its records. He even agreed to meet with Mickey Sandoval for a long-term financial assessment.
He also spent three days going over every inch of the ranch with Zoe, listening to her talk about it, studying the various grazing areas and the pastures where they grew their own hay. Although he insisted they take the off road vehicle since he hadn’t been on horseback in years. Through her eyes, and those of Will Hoyt, he began to develop, if not a love for the ranch, at least a strong liking.
And they talked a lot about Max Cameron, his personal loss and why he had kept his emotions so tightly locked up. There was no way to go back and change things. Max was dead, after all. But she thought Wade was at least beginning to understand what drove the man and why he behaved as he did. Loss and fear of loss could be very powerful things.
He also met with the bank president. Although he refused to give Zoe the details, he said with a tiny smile, “As soon as I get back. Then I’ll have all the details.”
He’d spent a week in New York, meeting with his partners and taking care of other personal business. A week when Zoe alternated between high anticipation and agonizing fear that he wouldn’t return.
He showed up back at the ranch on a Tuesday morning, again driving a rented SUV.
“I shipped my car,” he told her. “But I’m also buying one of these babies. A Mercedes is only so much good on a ranch.”
“What about your other stuff?” she asked. “Your personal things?”
“They’ll be here in good time.” Cupping her chin, he tilted her face to his, taking her mouth in one of his usual brutal kisses. “We have other business to deal with first. Go get your city duds on. We’re going to the bank.”
Zoe had never asked him about his financial situation, so she had to keep her jaw from dropping when he handed the bank a certified check to pay off the balance of the loan. For a moment, she thought the other man was going to have a stroke, but he simply swallowed his disappointment and shook hands with them both.
Since then, Wade had been busy studying the ranch with her and setting up an office in the house for his legal work. She also set up an office to continue working for Mickey. One day a week, she traveled into San Antonio to meet with clients. Everything else she did from the ranch via Internet and fax.
But the most important part of her life began with her training as a sub. Combined with research, Zoe quickly realized what a truly responsible Dom Wade was, and she need never fear him. He explained the true meaning of a D/s relationship, assuring himself that she could handle it. Rather than train her at home, he chose to do it in the environment of Rawhide where he could give full rein to his Dom personality.
She shivered as she remembered that first night, the instructions, the explanations, the instruments he’d used. How many times he had driven her to the brink of orgasm only to force her to hold back until he was ready? To her shock, she became so addicted to it that she often teased him and pushed him just so he would have no choice but to punish her.
He had yet to actually tell her he loved her, but he had shown her in so many ways she had nearly convinced herself she was okay without the words. Still, she wondered if the day would ever come when he’d feel emotionally free enough to make the declaration. She promised herself she wouldn’t lose hope.
Although they had played some at home, with their box filled with handcuffs and other toys, they saved most of the extreme activity for Rawhide. Tonight, he pro
mised her something special, and she had been on edge with anticipation all day.
The moment they were in the private room, he set the lighting the way he liked it, found the music he wanted on the tuner, then turned to face her. “Removed your clothes, sub. Immediately.”
Her hands shook slightly as she obeyed him, moving to the beat of the music the way she’d come to learn he liked it. When she was completely naked, she turned, bent down, and grabbed her heels. Another thing she’d discovered was that it gave him enormous pleasure and enhanced his arousal to spank her in this position.
“Are you ready, sub?” He used his full Dom voice.
“Yes, Master.” Oh, she was more than ready.
Grasping her ankles tightly, she balanced herself as he administered the slaps to her buttocks, faster and more intense with each whack. Next would come that little whip he had taught her to love. He was a true master with it, knowing exactly how to apply it, causing the maximum pain with minimum damage. Some days, she had trouble sitting down, but her desk chair now had a soft cushion.
When her ass was stinging and her pussy was soaked with her juices, he ordered her to stand up.
“Over here,” he told her, pointing to the St. Andrew’s Cross. They had used it before, and she wondered if her ass would take additional punishment tonight. But Wade would take care of her afterwards, which always helped her endure.
She went to stretch herself onto it, facing the wood, but he turned her to face him. “This way tonight, sub. Time to move this to the next level.”
She caught her lower lip between her teeth as he fastened the manacles around her ankles and wrists.
“Not to worry,” he assured her. “I have not pushed you beyond limits you can’t take, have I?”
A smile curved her lips. “No, Master. But perhaps tonight will be an exception.”
He laughed. “For that, I think you’ve earned an extra ten strokes with our little whip.”
Then he did something he didn’t usually do until the very end of their session. He took off his clothes. At home, he was naked the moment they hit the bedroom and insisted she sleep the same way.
“I want to be able to fuck you any time I wake up in the night and have the urge,” he’d explained. And he’d certainly been a man of his word.
But tonight? What was all this about?
If he saw the question in her eyes, he ignored it, instead concentrating on fastening his favorite clothespins to her nipples, squeezing them as tightly as possible. The tips hardened at once, the pulse at the base of her throat increased its throbbing beat, and her breathing accelerated. Then he took the small whip and stroked the leather across her skin.
“The lash loves your body,” he crooned. “Tomorrow, I’ll still be able to count the stripes and kiss every one.”
This was the first time he had applied the lash to the front of her body, and she braced for the sting, focusing instead on the torment the clothespins caused her nipples. Wade used the whip expertly, knowing just how much force to apply. After a while, the different layers of pain blended and her entire body was on fire with pleasant agony.
She wasn’t prepared for him to unlock the cuffs, turn her to face the cross, and shackle her again, but by then she was so hungry for him she would have endured anything for him to give her pleasure. She was perched precariously on the edge of orgasm, holding herself back for his command only with great restraint.
She was crying, and she was sure her nose was running, but she was dropping deeper and deeper into subspace, the place she could separate herself from everything except the intense sexual arousal.
Eventually, she knew the scene was ending because the level of play had begun to come down. She felt him behind her, felt him press his naked body against hers. He caressed her skin, kissed and nibbled the back of her neck.
He gripped her hair and turned her head to one side, whispering in her ear, “Do you love your Master?”
She dropped instantly from subspace, so shocked she was unable to answer him. She was almost sure she had heard him wrong and just hung there, very still.
He didn’t move away, just stayed there with his hard body against hers, his very swollen cock probing against her very sore buttocks. The room was quiet for at least a minute or two, his breath still at her ear.
“Do you love your Master?” he whispered in what seemed an eternity later. “Because he loves you.”
Hardly believing what she had just heard, she began to cry, softly. “Oh, yes, Master. I do love you. Very much.”
His muscles contracted and flexed as he drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I have never said that to another person. And never will, unless it’s a child of ours.”
Zoe couldn’t stop crying, even as he turned her back to face him and kissed her tear-stained cheeks. Even as he drew her legs around his waist and drove into her, so aroused that it was only seconds before he shouted, “Now, sub,” and they detonated together.
The tears kept pouring down her cheeks even during aftercare, as he soothed her body and wiped the mess she was sure her face had become. Removing the clothespins, he rubbed a special cream into her tortured nipples and kissed the valley between her breasts. He held her in his arms, feeding her sips of water and massaging her neck, sprinkling kisses on her neck and shoulders.
“I hate to see you cry like this, Zoe,” he told her. “My beautiful sub. Did I hurt you that badly?”
“No, Master. That’s not it. I’m just so relieved to hear you say those words. To know I can say them back to you now and not have to fight these feelings anymore.”
“Never again,” he assured her in a low voice. “We will always tell each other.” He placed her on the soft leather of the big armchair and reached for his pants. From a front pocket, he removed a dark blue velvet pouch.
Too big for a ring. What does he have?
When he lifted a delicate gold choker, tiny spurs connected by tiny links, she burst into tears again.
“Zoe?” He looked alarmed. “Do you not like it? I had it made specially. I thought it would hold a particular meaning for you.”
“It does,” she sobbed. “That’s why I’m crying.”
He shook his head then fastened it around her neck. “This links us together forever, you know. You, me, Big Spur.” He moved her into his lap again and wiped her cheeks with his palm. “Will you marry me?”
She had to clench her fists to stop the waterworks. “Of course, I will. Didn’t you know I was just waiting for you to ask?”
“I love you, Zoe. I will always be your Master.”
She snuggled into the warm safety of his embrace. “And I will always be your sub.”
They sat there together for a long time, finally settling into the future together.
About the Author
Known the world over as the oldest living author of erotic romance and referred to by USA Today as the Nora Roberts of erotic romance, Desiree Holt is three times a finalist for an EPIC E-Book Award (and a winner in 2014), a nominee for a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award, winner of the first 5 Heart Sweetheart of the Year Award at The Romance Studio as well as twice a CAPA Award winner for best BDSM book of the year, and winner of the Holt Medallion for Excellence in Romance Literature. She has been featured on CBS Sunday Morning and in The Village Voice, The Daily Beast, USA Today, The (London) Daily Mail, The New Delhi Times and numerous other national and international publications.
“Desiree Holt is the most amazing erotica author of our time and each story is more fulfilling than the last.”~Romance Junkies
Learn more about her and
read her novels here:
www.desireeholt.com
www.desiremeonly.com
www.facebook.com/desireeholtauthor
Twitter: @desireeholt
Pinterest: desiree02holt
Also on LinkedIn and Google+
To chat with Desiree Holt and other Wild Rose Press authors of erotic romance, join us at www.groups.
yahoo.com/group/thewilderroses.
Also Available
Hard to Handle
by
Desiree Holt
Book Five in the Rawhide Series
The chemistry between horse wranglers Bailey French and Hondo Labar was hot enough to singe the air even before their unexpected meeting at Rawhide, a private bondage club. Their extreme edge play at the club feeds their sexual needs, but Hondo wants a relationship outside the club and Bailey refuses to acknowledge him as more than a fellow wrangler. When a riding accident puts her in his care, can she finally trust her heart as well as her body to a man who would Master her forever?
Turn the page to read an excerpt.
Chapter One
“Quit it, Hank.”
Bailey French brushed at the tail swishing lazily at her. Straightening up to unkink her back, she swiped her forearm across her brow to wipe away some of the sweat. Hank—who the hell named a horse Hank, anyway?—was cross-tied in the barn so she could clean his hooves. But the damn horse thought it was funny to keep swishing his tail against her eyes and pushing his hoof out of her grip. She might not mind so much if the temperature hadn’t climbed to ninety-eight degrees without even a hint of a breeze to lessen it. A typical Texas summer day.
“I knew you were pretty antisocial,” a voice with a soft drawl said behind her, “but I didn’t think you’d taken to talking to horses.”
She turned and looked at Hondo LaBar standing just inside the barn, hands shoved in his pockets, one leg propped up on the bench against the wall.
Damn. Does the man take pleasure in sneaking up on me?
Bailey tamped down the flash of heat that always raced through her whenever he was near. It had been like that since the day she came to work at the Lucky L. Hondo LaBar was just too damn sexy for his own good. He seemed to move in an atmosphere thickened with testosterone, electricity zapping the air around him. He made her internal sensors go insane with hunger. What in hell was it about him that made her so crazy just being around him? A craziness that increased the more time passed. Hadn’t she learned her lesson after all?
