by Kaliana Cole
“Yes, Jory,” she panted, her cream spilling to his finger.
He ran it back and circled her vaginal entrance, flushed and swollen with desire. “What about this? Is this tight, wet cunt mine?” He saw her flinch at his harsh language, but the flood soaking his finger told him it had struck a chord within her.
“It’s all yours.”
She gasped as he slid his finger into her tight and wet tunnel. Jory could feel her inner muscles strive to pull him in. He wrenched his finger from her grip, leaving her clenching hopelessly on nothing.
Her breath caught sweetly when he touched her asshole with the tip of his finger, caught and held before exploding from her lungs as he moved it in an insidious caress. “What about your ass, Bailey? Is it mine to fill anytime I want?” He waited for her to pull away as he spread her cream over her forbidden entrance, to put an end to his possession. He knew he pushed her too far. Her aversion to anal play would have been irrevocably strengthened by her ordeal in the club attack.
“It’s yours, too, Jory.” He nearly passed out as all his blood tried to rush to his cock at once. She sounded scared, but she was trying to brazen it out.
He wanted her to fold, to cry off and admit he was asking too much. He jerked his jeans undone, letting his heavy shaft spring free. He gripped it just below the wide head and touched its heat to her star, pressing hard enough to intimidate her. “That’s my cock, Bailey. Long and thick and harder than hell. Are you saying I can shove it up there anytime I want?”
He pushed a little harder, trying to use a bite of pain to make her capitulate. His knees went weak as he saw a rim of pink emerge, and felt the hot caress of her forbidden hole kiss at the tip of his cock. “Please, Jory, I’m yours. Just take me.”
He fought free of the erotic haze her words inspired and jerked away from her willing but not readied ass. He plunged to the hilt in the hot, wet clasp of her pussy. His groan of surrender echoed in the cavernous room.
She backed up to him for more, taking every punishing thrust and looking for more. Selfishly, he rode her using a rough grip on her hips to make her take every last inch.
Her cries rose, demands lacing them as she came closer and closer to climax. He pushed her down further, until she was nearly bent in half, and kicked her legs wider. Each hard thrust sent his balls swinging to slap audibly against the slick bud of her clit. “Oh, Jory, let me come, I can’t wait.”
He licked his thumb and placed it on top of the orifice he had only refrained from plundering by the thinnest fibers of control. “Come for me, Bailey.” His digit slid inside her as the demand spilled from his lips.
She wailed and bucked against him in climax. The pressure threatened to pop the top of his thumb clean off as she clenched down upon him. His balls contracted frantically, and the tremors overtook him. His seed hurtled from his body to bathe her womb with its heat. Jory clutched at her hard as he strove to stay on his feet. His overburdened knees threatened collapse as the jerks and jolts of pleasure continued.
He wrapped his arms around Bailey when the tremors died down and pulled her upright. His cock slid from her body reluctantly as he straightened his knees and their height difference asserted itself. He lowered his head and laid a breathless kiss on her shoulder. “You’ll be the death of me, baby girl. You have no sense of self-preservation whatsoever.”
“I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.” Her purring kitten voice wrapped around him as he sunk down on the couch with her held securely in his arms, soft and sweet against him.
Her blind trust rocked him to the core. He held her tight and watched her fall asleep, more conflicted than ever.
He hadn’t taught her a goddamn thing.
Chapter 5
“Time to get up, brat.”
Bailey didn’t want to move. She was snug on the sofa, wrapped in a quilt, and it was too damn bright on the other side of her eyelids. She managed a groan as she snuggled deeper, but Jory wasn’t that easily placated.
“I’ve got plenty of ice in the freezer, Bailey. You can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
She swung her feet over the edge but couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes. She wasn’t hungover, just feeling the tiniest bit delicate this morning. The smell of coffee reached her nose as she heard bare feet padding across the floor.
“I told you that stuff you were drinking was rocket fuel.” She cracked one eyelid. It actually wasn’t as bad as she thought. Jory had a look of amused indulgence as he stood wafting the cup beneath her nose.
“It’s Sunday. What’s the idea of getting me up early?” She took the cup and held it with both hands. Jory’s hand pulled the quilt back up when it slid down to reveal that she was still butt-naked.
“I thought I’d help you set up the workshop so you can keep yourself out of trouble while I’m at work. Pete called this morning and offered to bring over some old equipment for you.”
Bailey felt the caffeine seep through her system and felt better immediately. She also had a dull ache deep inside her that proved last night hadn’t been just a wet dream, and a fucking good one at that. She leaned back, savoring the ache and feeling her libido stir.
A lazy smile touched her lips as she looked up at Jory. He looked damn good this morning. His faded jeans and cotton shirt looked like they had seen one washing too many and clung faithfully to his rangy frame. His raven hair, still damp from his shower, gave a powerful contrast to his icy, Nordic blue eyes. It was a stunning combination. One that had made her wet since she was old enough to realize what the heavy heat that built in her every time she looked at him was. Lust, pure and simple.
He grinned at her and stepped away. “No way, brat. I know that look. You get your act together and I’ll see you outside. If you’re not out by the time Pete gets here, I’ll be back with the ice, and you won’t like where I’ll put it.”
His grin made Bailey rub her legs together beneath the quilt, but he made a hasty getaway. She took a deep breath and drank her coffee instead of doing her body’s bidding and molesting the man. It should be illegal to look as good as he did.
She waited until she could see him through the big picture window and made sure he was watching before she rose from the couch and stretched thoroughly before turning and walking unashamedly naked to the downstairs bath.
After a shower and some cereal, she was feeling much brighter. There was a stiff breeze blowing down out of the Bighorn Mountains with the unseasonal smell of snow on it. She threw a heavy jacket on before heading outside. It was hard to believe that only yesterday she had been swimming in the river. She shuddered at the mere contemplation of it today.
Jory was helping Pete unload gas bottles out of the back of his truck. Bailey restrained a grin. She had been stuck with a stick welder back in Denver. She hadn’t been able to afford any better, but the bottles of argon promised an upgrade.
“Bailey girl, where do you want this set up?” Pete patted the MIG welder sitting on his tailgate.
“You’re spoiling me, Pete.” She walked over to take a look at the machine. “Really spoiling me.” It was an older model but a quality brand.
“It’s only sitting in my shed doin’ squat. You may as well get some use out of it.” The old rogue gave her one of his trademark grins, and she pressed a kiss to his weathered cheek.
“You’re a darling, Pete. Don’t let anyone tell you different.” She noticed Jory shaking his head at her show of affection, so she wrinkled her nose at him and soundly ignored him. “Just there by the end of the bench will do. Thanks, Pete. There’s good light and most of my stuff is small, so I can clamp off on the bench.”
The older man chuckled. “I had a look at that mat you did. That’s some fine work, Bailey. You’ve done me proud.”
“You’re not surprised by my choice of subject?”
“Jory told me you’re making a pretty penny out of the stuff you’re doin’. If you run out of ideas I’d be happy to model for you.” His grin said he was looking for a bite.
Jory just shook his head once more and reached over and grabbed the MIG. “You going to grab the other end, old man, or stand there flapping your gums?”
“Gets testy, don’t he?”
“Yeah, he wakes up real snarly in the mornings.” Bailey ran her hand up the back of Jory’s thigh and squeezed his ass as he went past with his end of the welder. His scowl promised retribution, but his lips quirked with his effort not to smile.
They set the welder up and reorganized the workspace. Jory didn’t spend much time in the workshop since he had finished the house, but his tools were in good order. Bailey looked over the selection. “The only thing I’m going to need is a four-inch grinder. The nine is good for cutting, but it’s too big for me to use for cleaning up.”
“That’s the first time I heard a woman ask for four inches when there’s nine on offer.” Pete chuckled delightedly. “I’m sure I’ve got one in the shed somewhere. I’ll drop it off tomorrow. I should have a few grinding disks, too.”
“Much appreciated, Pete. I’ll make you something real nice, I promise.” He would love the coat rack she had made a few months ago with a naked reclining woman worked into the top. It would only take her a day to make, and it was the least she could do when he was loaning her thousands of dollars worth of equipment.
“I look forward to it, Bailey. If you’re chasing any old steel, I can probably put a load together for you. Ty would have some, and Jack said there’s a pile of old parts out behind the workshop you can pick over.”
“You can tell Jack that Bailey is not going anywhere near that workshop without me.” Bailey could hear the possessive heat in Jory’s voice.
“Don’t you trust me around Jack?”
“Jack, yes. Danny is a different story.”
“Danny is harmless.” Bailey defended Liberty Springs’ resident bad boy. Jory just wouldn’t accept Danny was a reformed man.
“Yeah, and so is a grizzly.”
“I’ll leave you two lovebirds to fight it out. My money’s on Bailey.” Pete slid into his old Chevy with a wink. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Bailey girl.”
Bailey kept her eyes on Jory as the truck bumped up the drive. “Did you miss breakfast or are you always this easy to rile in the mornings?”
Jory put down the welding helmet he had been moving and pounced. Bailey couldn’t contain her squeal when he picked her up and put her on the bench, stepping between her spread thighs. “You are the only person who can rile me, brat. You just go out of your way to do it. Flashing me through the window? Grabbing my ass? Then you have the hide to stick up for Danny Blake? You are in so much trouble.”
Bailey hooked her heels behind his legs and pulled him closer, her hands running up his chest to rest on his broad shoulders. She tilted her head and smiled at the feigned exasperation on his face. “Promises, promises. You’re all talk, Jory Raines.”
He pulled her to him, and Bailey wrapped her legs around his waist. “Let’s get that collar on you and see how much talk you think I am then.”
Bailey kissed at his neck as he strode toward the house. His big hands cupped her ass as he carried her. She nipped at his earlobe and reveled in his rough intake of breath.
Mischief whispered through her, and she latched onto the skin below his ear, right on the corded muscle that ran up the side of his neck. She bit down and drew hard, sucking for all she was worth as he growled in protest. She pulled away and looked at her handiwork, delighted and satisfied beyond measure with the dirty, great hickey she left on him.
“I can’t believe you just did that.”
“Neither can I.”
Jory pried her off him as he stepped through the door. He snatched up the strip of velvet from the side table and held it out. “Come here, brat.”
Bailey couldn’t help but smile when she looked at his neck. “Yeah, you just keep smiling, baby.” He wrapped the velvet collar around her neck and tied it off. “I have finished playing nice.” He stripped off his jacket and threw it over the back of a chair before he tugged Bailey’s from her and sent it sailing to join his.
Shivers went down her spine that had nothing to do with cold and everything to do with the look of passionate possession on Jory’s lean face. He plunked her unceremoniously on the polished timber slab that was his kitchen bench and pulled her boots off. She debated on locking her ankles to make it difficult, but she was too damn eager to see where this was going.
She had thrilled at his mastery of her body last night. Felt the power of her femininity as he had trembled at her compliance with his demands. Delighted in the rough ascendancy of his hands, the explicit heated threats, and the scare tactics that hadn’t had a snowball’s chance in hell of working. She knew well and good that Jory Raines would never hurt her. Not even as much as she wanted him to.
His glacial eyes held the heat of four suns as he stripped her down where she sat. She couldn’t hold back a small smile of pure satisfaction at the hunger that burned hotter when he saw she wasn’t wearing panties again. The bench was chilly against her butt, but she only had to bear it momentarily. The moment the last scrap of her clothing fell away, she was tossed over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. His big hand gripped her thigh securely as he turned and headed for the stairs.
Bailey was too absorbed in the feel of his wide, cotton-covered shoulder under her hips and the sight of his denim-clad ass to notice anything out of the ordinary until a light came on and they were heading downstairs instead of up. She glanced around as much as her precarious perch would allow. The narrow-ass door tucked beside the stairs she had always assumed was a broom closet wasn’t. The stairs leading down were a match for the ones leading to the upper story— wide and sturdy with a polished rail.
She went still, wondering where he was going.
“Got you worried yet, brat?”
Slightly, but she wasn’t about to let him know that. “You don’t scare me.” She kept her voice matter-of-fact, but the rather harsh slap he laid on her ass changed that. “Ouch! Fuck! What was that for?”
“You don’t scare me…?” His voice rose expectantly as he flipped on some lights.
“Sir.”
“Mmm, that’s better.”
Bailey was only getting disjointed glimpses of her surroundings as her back muscles protested the awkward angle required to view things in an upright perspective. Coupled with the burn seeping through to her pussy from her reddened ass as Jory rubbed it, she was finding it mighty hard to concentrate. She did see enough, however, to know Jory hadn’t been exaggerating about having a dungeon.
Big iron rings embedded in stone walls. A St. Andrew’s cross. A spanking bench that afforded more positions than any she had seen. And in one darkened corner, wooden stocks. Her eyes locked and held on the sinister device as Jory dropped her to her feet. For the first time ever in Jory’s presence, a quiver of true terror ran through her.
* * * *
Jory saw her still, and cursed himself silently. He should have thought to pack the apparatus away. “Eyes on me,” he snapped, drawing her gaze away from the subject of her nightmares. Indigo eyes rested on his, searching, seeking. He held her gaze until she settled before reaching for the light switch. He turned on the direct lighting above the padded spanking bench and the cupboard nearby, and flipped off all others. Only a twilit dusk encompassed the remainder of the space.
He ran his finger from the pulse fluttering at the notch between her collarbones down between her breasts and all the way to the soft curls regrowing on her mound. “These have got to go. When you go in to see Doc for your birth control shots tomorrow, go down to the spa and get rid of these, too. I want you to be able to feel every little move I make.” He flicked at her clit, noting with satisfaction the return of flushed arousal to her face. Bailey had been scared, real scared, but she had recovered.
He walked over to the padded bench, running a finger along the faux-leather top to bring her attention to it. “Have you seen one of these, Bailey?�
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“Yes. Sir.” He could tell the sir was a late addition. “None as sophisticated as that, but I know what they’re for.”
“Have you been put on one, Bailey? Secured so you couldn’t escape what was being done to you?”
“I’ve been held down on one and lashed, but never restrained, sir.”
“I think we’ll rectify that right now.” He noticed the sliver of fear that reentered her eyes. “Or are you going to throw that ‘red light’ at me, Bailey?” Jory deliberately made it sound like a challenge, pulling her in with a dare he knew she wouldn’t refuse.
There was a real swing to her hips as she stalked over. A provocative roll that hardened him as fast as if she had run her hot breath over his balls. “No, sir. You’ll have to work harder if you want to hear that from me.”
He smiled at her bravado, but he knew damn well that if he pointed her toward the stocks, she would fold. Last night that had been exactly what he was looking for, but today he found he wanted nothing more than to get her past the true terror he had glimpsed on her face. He tapped the section of the bench designed for kneeling on. “On your knees, wench.”
The look she shot him as she complied told him just how much she liked his “master and commander” voice, as did the glistening petals that peaked out as she lifted her leg to step up.
At the moment the leg rests were together, but it would only take the turn of a handle to have them sliding wide. He adjusted the height of the bench so that she would be slightly below the horizontal when he stretched her over it and brought the cross piece in a bit. He wanted to restrain her arms to get her used to it but not stretch her too much.
“Lay down. Arms out to the side.” He watched as she adopted the required position. He ran his hand up the length of her spine, rubbed the back of her neck, and brought it back down. He smiled when she writhed beneath his comforting touch. Bailey soaked up the smallest touches. Ones calculated only to reassure her brought her pleasure. “You look good like this, Bailey. Damn good.”
