by Joey W. Hill
"So far you haven't told me anything I don't already know." He met the challenge with a cocky tone and a direct stare that had her lips curving, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Mistress," he added.
She shook her head at him. This time when she spoke, there was no humor or challenge, just a serious look. "Take the week to think this through, Quinn. From every angle. You can say no. All the way up to the moment you can't."
Leaning close, she brushed her lips over his, grazed him with a fang. Her blue eyes were preternaturally vivid, all vampire. "But whatever you or I decide on the third mark," she breathed, "I will take your beautiful, tight virgin ass next Sunday. I won't be denied that."
Christ.
Chapter Ten
It was the longest week of his life. Thanks to the experience of his horse and his ranch hands, he'd kept himself from too many stupid mistakes, but if he'd been thrown on his head, he could have laid the blame square at Selene's feet. Except that was where he wanted to be, on his knees, tasting the creamy skin of her thighs, sliding his tongue over her wet pussy, pleasuring her until she gushed against his lips.
Not jerking off and waking up every hour to make sure he didn't get himself caught up in a wet dream, trying to honor her demands, kept him jumpy. But she'd been right about the second mark letting him do fine with less sleep. She'd said it got even better with the third mark. He'd be able to run the ranch, visit her at the bar, serve her needs and feel refreshed with only several hours of sleep. Pretty fucking amazing.
On Sunday, Quinn leaned against the back porch railing, tension running through his body like a live wire. When he shifted, the muscles of his ass clenched, the slick slide between his buttocks reminding him of how well lubed he was, per her instructions. While he was so hot and hard he'd probably go off when she got out of her car, he wasn't sure about having a huge dildo shoved up his ass. But what really had him antsy was her decision about the third mark.
If she'd tuned in to his head at all this week, he was sure he would have sounded like one of those kids on a trip--"Are we there yet? Are we there yet?" But even if she heard it, she'd said nothing in his mind. He missed having her voice there.
She'd finally called him earlier in the evening, just after she'd risen from sleep.
"What time will you be here?" he asked, trying not to sound like it was a demand.
"Just after dark." Her voice held a hint of humor. "Are you anxious for me?"
"Always." That was no damn lie.
"Did you eat lightly today? Shower thoroughly and lube your ass? Stretch it with your fingers all week as I instructed?" Her voice was so soft and gentle when she said the words he could hardly reconcile it with the knowledge she was talking about him prepping for the strap-on.
He cleared his throat. Yeah, he'd shoved his fingers up his ass, imagining they were hers. "I did, Mistress." He'd come to love calling her that. He didn't give a damn what anyone thought about it.
"Very good. Remember, though, that's only the beginning of the preparation."
His cock had swelled and the muscles of his ass tightened at the sensual threat.
Now he waited for her, the silence of the evening broken by the lowing of cattle in the distance and the friendly nickering of horses in the barn. His life had changed so much in a few short weeks, since the night the petite blonde appeared at the After Hours Saloon. His world had been turned upside down in so many ways.
Thinking it was incongruent with being the ultimate alpha male, he'd denied the submissive side of himself that accepted--no, embraced--being completely hers. With the third marking, it would be forever. He realized it wasn't just that he wanted it. No, he craved it. Craved her. He was willing to do things he'd never imagined in order to make that happen.
Selene.
Just the sound of her name in his head, the image of her in his mind, was enough to send his pheromones on a wild ride. He wanted to possess her, yet at the same time he knew that after tonight he might be hers, her servant to command. The anticipation had him riding the razor-thin rail of both lust and some unnamed emotion.
When he heard the crunching sound of tires on gravel, he strode through the house and out the front door, in time to see her car pull into the parking area. Just the sight of her exiting gracefully from her car made the muscles in his stomach tighten in anticipation of what was ahead and his cock throb painfully. Tonight she was dressed in yet another blue dress, this one with tiny sleeves, a deep neckline and a flirty skirt that came down barely past the tops of her thighs. When she stepped into the halo of the outside lights he could see the outline of her body through the flimsy material. Her hips swayed and the pale gold of her hair rippled over her shoulders as she walked toward him.
He walked down the steps to meet her, lifting an eyebrow at the small satchel she carried in one hand.
"Does this mean you're actually planning to stay the entire night?"
A knowing smile flirted at her lips. "At least until the edge of darkness begins to lift."
He brushed his fingertips along her jaw. "We have to figure out how you can stay here during daylight hours. How do other vampires do it?"
"A topic for another time." She lifted the case. "Let's put this in your room. Then I'd like a tour of the barn."
"The barn?" What the hell?
"Yes. If I'm going to be with a rancher, I need to familiarize myself with--things--on the ranch."
"Are you?" he asked. "Going to be with me?"
She turned her cheek into his palm. "Perhaps. If you're very very good."
Asking for more would be a futile exercise. She'd tell him what she wanted him to know when she wanted him to know it. With his hand at the small of her back, he guided her through the house to his bedroom where they deposited her satchel. Then, taking her hand, he led her out the back across the yard to the barn.
As they entered the building, she stopped and drew in a deep breath. "I never knew horseflesh could smell so good."
Quinn laughed. "Some people would say it stinks, but I've been around it all my life. To me it's better than a lot of perfumes." He stopped just inside the entrance. "So. You want the full tour, or are you looking for something specific?"
"I'd love to see each of the horses, but then I need to visit your tack room."
"Tack room, huh? You really have been doing your research."
"There are horses in New York," she said with dignity.
"I've heard tell. Should I ask what you're looking for?"
"I'll know it when I see it."
A provocative statement if ever there was one. What did that have to do with tonight? What the hell was running around in her mind?
He walked her down the broad center aisle, watching her stop to touch the nose of each horse. They came right up to her, even the skittish ones, and rubbed their velvety nostrils against her palm. He hesitated when they came to Midnight's stall. The ebony gelding could be antsy sometimes. Why was he not surprised when the big animal poked his head over the stall door and gave Selene the equivalent of an equine kiss?
"Yours," she said.
"Mine," he affirmed.
"He suits." She rubbed his nose. "Horses are usually skittish around vampires, but the Fae blood draws them to me. Which is nice, because I like big, powerful animals." She gave him a sidelong glance. "Maybe we'll take a nighttime ride sometime."
"Anytime you want."
Nodding, she studied Midnight's intelligent brown eyes. "Not tonight, but I would still like to see your tack room."
He opened the door to the room at the front end of the stalls, a space as big as three stalls together, and ushered her inside. Every bit of tack--all the equipment needed for horses--was kept in disciplined array. Quinn insisted on it. Every man cared for his own and it had to be in tiptop condition. Saddles and bridles filled racks on two walls. On the others were shelves and drawers with a variety of equipment.
Selene wandered from spot to spot, trailing her hands over the supple leather, touching th
e stirrups. When she lifted a hoof pick and examined it with curiosity, Quinn felt his balls shrivel. No way was that going to be part of their fun and games. But she'd said she was going to put him through his paces, see if he had what it took to really be his servant.
She looked at him and grinned.
"You look terrified, cowboy. My goal is not to injure you, but to bring you pleasure." She turned the pick over in her hands. "This looks more like an instrument of torture."
He relaxed. "It's for cleaning horses' hooves."
"Where are the ropes? Oh there they are." She walked over to a section of the wall where various lengths of rope were coiled on pegs.
He waited in silence while she examined each one, measuring its length, letting the ends slide over her palm. At length, she chose two of them and looped them over one of her arms. She poked in some of the drawers, lifting out a variety of bits, selecting one that had leather thongs trailing from each end. "I need to be sure my stallion is properly tacked," she said.
A tumult of emotions swirled through Quinn. He had no idea what she had in mind and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out. Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea.
It didn't really matter, did it? Good idea, bad idea, he was hers, he knew it. He wanted her with a need so furious it consumed every bit of him. Whatever she wanted, if he could survive it, he'd do it.
She held his gaze, telling him she was hearing every thought scrolling through his head. Then she tilted her head, an unspoken command to follow her. When she turned, he did, his gaze captured by the round gleam of her bare shoulder, the coquettish tilt of her head as she verified he was following her back to the house. Which she didn't need to do, since he was already bound to her by two marks, but he liked seeing the delicate profile. Selene was all woman, knowing exactly what subtle gestures got a man's blood boiling.
The house was silent, Annette long gone to her own home, the hands settled wherever they were, bunkhouse or other dwelling. She led the way to his bedroom as if she were in charge of the house, and damn all, just maybe she was. The sway of her hips beneath the insubstantial fabric of her dress made him want to reach out and cup the cheeks of her ass. He had to fist his hands to keep from doing that. Selene was in control.
Quinn had left one lamp on in the bedroom, the one beside the bed, turned to its lowest setting. When he moved to turn on the other one, Selene put her hand on his arm.
"Leave it. This gives me more than enough light."
Dropping the ropes onto a chair, she headed for the bathroom with the bit. He heard the sound of running water and wondered what the fuck she was planning to do with that piece of hardware.
Best not to wonder. Her voice, in his head.
She came back into the room and placed the bit on one of the nightstands. Quinn stood there, watching her, waiting for instruction from her. When she turned to him, her eyes were hot and hungry.
"Are you ready to do as I order, Quinn? Anything I order?"
He nodded, body tightening in anticipation of what was to come.
She fixed him with her haughty gaze. "I didn't hear you."
He swallowed. "Yes, Mistress."
"Excellent. Remove your clothes for me. Do it slowly. I want to enjoy seeing my package being unwrapped."
He used the bootjack in his closet to remove his boots, an age-old device that allowed him to hook each heel in the notch provided and tug his foot free. Setting the boots aside, he turned back to Selene and unbuttoned his shirt. When he pulled his arms free and tossed the shirt aside, she stepped closer to him and ran the tips of her fingers down the length of his chest. She stopped briefly as she came to each of the old scars not quite hidden by his chest hair.
"I notice these every time you're naked. How did you get them?"
He shrugged. "Hazards of rodeoing and ranching."
A tiny frown creased her brow. "You chose dangerous professions for yourself."
"It is what it is. Nothing was permanently damaged."
He was glad for the discipline he'd learned from rodeoing as she traced every ridge of muscle, brushed the fine mat of hair, drew a line with the tip of a finger from his breastbone down to the buckle on his belt. A shiver skated over his skin as she licked each scar with slow deliberation, as if just her touch could heal him even more. Fingernails flicked at his nipples, sending jolts of heat to his cock and his balls. With her delicate tongue she lapped at his toned pectorals then took a step back.
"Continue," she commanded.
He opened the big silver buckle on his belt and pulled it free from the loops before lowering the zipper of his jeans. She smiled when she saw that he was commando.
"You appreciated it the other night," he reminded her. "I thought you would enjoy it again."
"I'm happy that you choose to please your Mistress."
"Always."
When he was completely naked, he stood immobile while her eyes drank him in. Her slim fingers stroked his cock and she cupped his balls, giving his sac a gentle squeeze. Stepping back, she let her gaze take in every inch of his naked body, from his neck to his feet. One corner of her mouth tipped up in a smile when she came to his shaft, swollen and standing proud and erect.
"I see your body is ready for me."
He gave a hoarse chuckle. "It has been for over a week."
Moving closer again, she wrapped her fingers around it and dropped to her knees to lick the engorged head with sweeps of her tongue. She caught the bead of fluid sitting on the slit and dragged it into her mouth.
Quinn clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms to maintain some semblance of control. Though she was on her knees, he was the one subjugated here. She would go at this at her own pace and nothing he said or did would hurry her. Indeed, it might only earn him a punishment, although that idea wasn't half bad, either.
Selene drew back and rose to her feet. Bidding him stay in place with just a look, she carried the small satchel she'd brought with her to the nightstand and opened it, removing a tube of gel along with some other unidentifiable bottles. When she lifted out the apparatus that could be nothing but the strap-on, Quinn's heart stopped then stumbled into an erratic beat. He'd certainly seen dildos before. Many of the women he'd enjoyed sex with had their own collection. They'd asked him to put them up their asses while he fucked their pussies, but none of them had ever put one up his.
The dildo for this strap-on appeared larger than any he'd ever seen, although that could possibly just be his imagination. Attached to it was a complicated network of straps and buckles.
Selene held it up. Her eyes possessed a wicked gleam.
"I think this will suit, don't you?"
What was he supposed to say?
What you know I want to hear.
"Yes, Mistress. I'm sure it will."
She slipped her dress over her head and kicked her shoes to the side. He didn't think he'd ever get enough of looking at that body, the smooth pussy, the taut nipples, the nicely rounded breasts. He wanted to run his tongue over every inch of her but he knew that wasn't on this particular agenda. Unfortunately. Instead his eyes were glued to her as she fitted the straps around her thighs and hips, adjusting them to fit securely, but he couldn't seem to look away from the enormous penis jutting from her slim body.
Selene stepped closer to him. "Would you like to touch it?" Before he could answer she took one of his hands and molded it around the toy. "I can't wait to see this penetrate you. To impale you with it. I've thought about this a lot, cowboy." She removed his hand and backed away. "Get up on the bed, on your knees. Head down, resting on your forearms."
Swallowing his lingering misgivings, he climbed onto the bed and arranged himself as she ordered. He had never felt so exposed in his life, with his ass, cock and balls unprotected and open to whatever she had in mind.
Trust her. Completely.
He wondered who exactly he was trying to convince, but he drew in a deep breath and tried to relax.
She stroked his buttoc
ks, following the curve down to his thighs. He shook at just that light contact. She touched him everywhere, his hips, the inside of his thighs, even down to his ankles, as if memorizing every contour of his body. When she trailed her hand through the hot crevice of his ass he automatically tightened against it.
She gave a low laugh while she fondled his testicle sac. The tip of her finger caressed the tight ring of his anus, circling the muscle before pushing inside. A second finger joined the first, then a third, moving and scissoring inside him, testing the lube.
"You did a good job." She pressed a kiss to the hollow at the base of his spine. "But I'm going to add more lubricant because the strap-on is much larger than my fingers. I have some other adjustments to make."
"Like what?" He couldn't stop himself from asking.
"Not worried, are you? Don't worry. I'll be gentle with you."
Yeah right.
She moved away again. From the corner of his eye he saw her at the satchel again.
"I'm going to blindfold you, Quinn. Taking away sight enhances all the other senses and I want you to feel every bit of this. Do you trust your Mistress enough for this?"
I do. Mistress.
He realized he was speaking inside her head.
Thank you. I will take good care of you.
When she placed the folded cloth across his eyes, he had a heartbeat of panic. Then he centered himself and forced his body to relax again.
Something touched his anus, something cool, and then her fingers were sliding into him, smoothing the fresh gel along his tissues, preparing him for what was to come. He thought he could have stayed that way for a long time, her fingers probing inside him, the feeling was so delicious. A completely unexpected treat. But so much with Selene was turning out to be that way.
She withdrew and he felt something rough around one ankle. The rope she'd carried in from the barn.
"I'm securing your ankles to the short posts at the foot of the bed. I'll be tying your hands as well."
By the time she had finished binding him, his knees were spread far apart, his ankles secured to the corner posts. When she said she'd be tying his hands as well, she hadn't meant to the top posts. Instead she had him go down to his elbows, then even farther, his arms at his sides, hands pointed to the foot of the bed, so she could secure his wrists with the ropes and run them down to tie them to the same posts as his ankles. The position pressed his cheek flat to the mattress, putting a strain on his neck and shoulder.
