by Avery Gale
“How long have you been here?”
“I was right behind you coming up the mountain. I had to park farther down so you were already in place before I caught up, so I took a position by the first fork in the path. The only reason I found you—great perch by the way—was because I swiped one of these from Phoenix’s office the other day.” She watched him pull an earbud just like hers from his ear. Caila knew exactly why he’d waited down the path…he was protecting her, and she loved him for it.
He leaned forward, pressed a kiss against her forehead, and grinned. “I can’t let the Mistress of Mayhem have all the fun, you know.” Caila rolled her eyes at the mention of one of the Morgan brothers’ favorite nicknames for her. “Baby, did you just roll your eyes at me?” The two of them weren’t as deep into the D/s dynamic as his brothers and their wives, but they did enjoy playing every once in a while.
“Actually, I was rolling my eyes at the nickname I don’t believe I deserve, but if a false confession will get me a funishment spanking and hot sex, then I’ll be all over it.”
He hugged her tight before leaning down to pick up her rifle. “Come on, baby, let’s go start the mountain of paperwork my brother is going to subject us to before he lets us go home to have some wild monkey sex. Mom’s got all the grandkids at their house in town, so hopefully, big brother can be persuaded to delay some of his questions until tomorrow.”
Caila didn’t think it was likely, but she wasn’t above batting her eyes and whining a little if it meant spending time doing naked mattress gymnastics with her man. She’d loved Kip since she old enough to understand what love was. Becoming his wife had been one of the happiest day of her life, because she’d not only gotten the man of her dreams, she’d gotten his family as well.
Rafe moved her off his lap and settled her on the sofa when he saw Kip lead Caila into the room. “Wait here, love. I want to thank Caila.”
“Thank her?”
“For saving your life, baby. The shot that took Merrett down was hers, Peach.”
Reagan was stunned. “Dr. Caila Morgan? The vet?”
When Caila giggled behind him, Rafe turned and smiled down at the petite bundle of trouble and pulled her in for a quick hug. Reagan heard him thanking Caila for saving her as Kip knelt in front of the sofa. His eyes were filled with concern as he inquired, “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Yes, and I hear I have your wife to thank for that fact.” Reagan was still trying to wrap her head around it.
He nodded and gave her a grin Reagan bet had melted a lot of women right out of their panties before he’d gotten married. “She’s racking up an impressive resume. I hope Uncle Sam doesn’t get wind of her skills.”
“Oh no! Is she going to be in trouble for shooting that prick? Because if there ever was a man who deserved to be shot, it was Major Merrett.”
“Hell no, I’m worried the military will try to recruit her.” His laughter was contagious, and she appreciated it more than she could tell him. The dam of emotion she’d been holding back bubbled forth as that laughter switched from amusement to something far too close to hysteria for her comfort.
Caila sat next to her and wrapped her arm around Reagan’s shoulders. “It’s the adrenaline crash. The more you try to hold it in, the harder the fall, so let it go.” The other woman’s words settled over her, and Reagan was grateful for her support. Damn, it had been a long time since she’d had friends to talk to, and in the past few days, she’d been surrounded by women who offered their friendship. Not one of them had asked her for anything in return.
“Thank you. I know it’s not enough, but I don’t think anything would ever be enough to show my gratitude. He was going to kill me, but not until after he made me wish a thousand times for the relief of death.” She shuddered, and Caila nodded her understanding. “I tried to shoot him, but the prick tried to pull my hair out by the roots, and I fell over. I was going to shoot him right in the…well, I was going to make sure Dick didn’t have a dick anymore.”
Caila giggled, Kip roared with laughter, and Rafe snorted a laugh even as he shook his head, looking for all the world like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. But it was Brandt Morgan who spoke. She hadn’t seen him walk up beside Kip, his dark eyes dancing with amusement. “Blood thirsty little wench, isn’t she?”
“Oh yes, she’s going to fit right in.” Caila turned her attention to Rafe, “You’d better keep her, Sir. She and I are going to get along great. And I can hardly wait to introduce her to my sisters-in-law.” Kip and Brandt groaned in unison, making Caila clap her hands looking like a little girl who’d found her heart’s desire under the Christmas tree.
Brandt held up his hand, gaining everyone’s attention in a way that reminded her all three men standing in front of her were sexual Dominants. Instinctively, her eyes moved to Rafe, though he wasn’t the man who’d commanded their attention. His slow nod of approval launched a flurry of butterflies in her stomach. Brandt’s deep voice cut through her budding arousal, “We’ve boarded up the window and cleaned up what we can. I want all of you in my office tomorrow morning. The reports can wait until then.” Focusing his attention on Caila, Brandt’s expression softened. “That was one hell of a shot, Cal. I’m damned proud of you. Hell, there were only a few guys in the SEALs who could have drilled that shot.”
Reagan watched Kip when Caila whispered, “I had good teachers.” His eyes were filled with a mixture of pride, love, and molten lust that made Reagan wonder if the couple would make it home before the passion steamrolled them.
Twenty minutes later, she and Rafe were the only ones left in the house. He’d led her to the bedroom before pulling the blanket from her shoulders. “Don’t move.” Leaving her standing beside the bed, he strode purposely across the large master bedroom to turn on the gas fireplace. She’d noticed the dark marble feature, but hadn’t seen it aflame until now. When he heard her gasp, he turned and smiled. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? It was my one completely extravagant addition after I bought the house.”
Beautiful didn’t do it justice. The flames appeared to dance atop a bed of mirrored glass. The configuration was constantly changing. One minute, it was a straight line; the next, it looked like a crowd performing the wave in the stands during a college football game. “It’s amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I’ll tell you more about it—later. Right now, I want you to turn around and lie over the edge of the bed with your legs spread more than shoulder width apart and your toes turned in.” She blinked her eyes in surprise, and he cocked a brow, waiting for her to comply. “You have a safe word, Reagan. Do you want to use it?”
The question pushed her to move quickly into position. She’d been waiting too long to let uncertainty steal this moment from her. He stepped behind her, his gaze a warm caress on her chilled skin. The shattered floor to ceiling window downstairs along with the steady stream of people in and out of the house meant the temperature had dropped to nearly freezing inside. Reagan was glad she’d closed the master bedroom door earlier in the evening, retaining at least some of the heat.
“Stay with me, Peach. I don’t want your mind wandering. I can be very creative when it comes to keeping subs focused.” Oh, she could only imagine all the tricks he had up his sleeve. She’d kept herself busy the past couple of days reading everything she could find online about Dominance and submission. What impressed her the most was the emphasis on communication and the absolute commitment of reputable clubs to safe, sane, and consensual as the guiding tenet of the lifestyle.
A sharp slap landed on her left ass cheek, making her shriek as heat exploded over her bare skin. She instinctively started to stand and discovered his hand wrapped possessively around the back of her neck. When did he do that? Her reflex was no match for his strength, and a second wave of heat moved through her at the feeling of being bound by him, even if it was just his hand holding her in place.
“How interesting.”
“Sir?”
“Peach, your respiration rate increased with the swat, but it was the feeling of being restrained that sent your heart rate through the roof.”
“I think having a Dom who’s a doctor might have some disadvantages I hadn’t previously considered.” She heard the quiver in her voice and there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell he’d missed it. Damn, nothing like turning into a puddle of goo after only one swat. Nothing needy about that, no siree.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rafe leaned his head back and laughed. Reagan’s comment delighted him and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed during a D/s scene. How she’d managed to retain her sense of humor after everything she’d been through this evening was a mystery to him. He’d planned to paddle her ass to pull her out of the stupor he thought she’d fallen into, but damned if she hadn’t just proven him wrong. Now he’d give her the five swats she’d earned a few days ago and defer the rest until tomorrow night.
The scene he was planning at the club could easily be adapted to add the additional punishment she’d earned this evening. Rafe had never hidden the fact he enjoyed meting out discipline when a submissive blatantly ignored a command, especially one given to keep the sub safe. By the time he administered the five swats he’d promised her a few moments earlier, he was confident she would still feel the remnants tomorrow morning.
Smoothing his hand over her ass cheeks, he admired their flawless round shape. “You have a beautiful ass, baby. And I love the way my handprint bloomed the perfect shade of pink. My goal is to turn your entire backside the same color as your pussy.” Sliding his fingers down the crack between her cheeks, he smiled when he found her wet folds. “You’re very wet, baby. I think we’re going to get along splendidly. I’m going to show you just how easy it is to blur the line between pleasure and pain.”
Her pussy was slick and he could smell her arousal. The folds were swelling under his touch, and he loved watching them unfold as blood flowed into the tender tissues. The mirror behind her gave him a lovely view, something he was certain would make her blush when she realized the peep show he was enjoying. Continuing to slide his fingers close, but not close enough, to her clit, he almost laughed when she subtly tried to shift from one foot to the other in an effort to get him closer to the target.
He pulled his fingers from her sex before he gave in to the temptation to finger fuck her to orgasm. She hadn’t earned it, and he was determined to begin as he intended to go. “Tell me why you’re being punished, Reagan.” It had been so long and so much had transpired, he wondered if she’d remember. Once again, she surprised him.
“Because I hesitated to follow an order.”
“That’s only a partial explanation. Fill in the blanks before I decide five isn’t going to be enough to teach you the lesson.” He gave her pussy a quick slap and smiled when she moaned.
“I was worried about who might see me and that meant I didn’t trust you to keep me safe…even though I didn’t realize that at the time.”
Damn, she was fucking perfect. She’d not only remembered the incident, it seemed as though she’d given it some thought since. “You’re exactly right, love. Even if it’s unintentional, that’s the message you send to your Dom when you don’t respond immediately to his commands, particularly in public.”
Giving her swollen labia another slap, he relished the moan he heard rumble from deep in her chest. “The swats are going to feel like fire racing over your skin, baby. But each stroke will vibrate all the way to your core and then burst into a brilliant white explosion of pleasure. By the third swat, you’ll be begging, but you won’t know if you want me to stop or continue.” Her arousal was running in rivulets down the insides of her thighs, and it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
Only a true submissive could fall so deep into a scene from the words alone, and so far, Reagan was proving herself as close to perfect as any newbie sub he’d ever had the pleasure of punishing. But something about this was different. This wasn’t a carefully negotiated scene with a submissive from the club. The naked woman bent over in front of him awaiting her punishment was his—or at least he hoped she would agree to belong to him, because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to let her go.
The first two swats were quick in succession and sharp enough to rock her up on her toes. Her fingers curled into the bed’s coverlet. He heard a sniffle, but she didn’t utter any other sound. “Very good, love. Your ass is blushing beautifully. It should be nice and hot by the time I slide my cock deep into your pussy and take my pleasure. You do not have permission to come. Don’t forget that, or we’ll have to begin again.” Reagan’s entire body stiffened, and he was sure she was wondering how in the hell she was supposed to hold back the rising tide of pleasure that was undoubtedly already barreling in on her.
Rafe was damned glad she couldn’t see his satisfied smile. He fully intended to give her several earth shattering orgasms, but the first time she came on his cock, he wanted to be looking into her eyes. He landed the next swat so that his large hand almost covered her entire ass. The implements he planned to use tomorrow night wouldn’t push her further than his hand. The goal wasn’t to turn her away from the lifestyle. Rather he wanted Reagan to understand the freedom she’d find if she could only surrender.
“Please, sir.” And there it was—the softly whispered plea he’d predicted. He wasn’t going to ask her what she was begging for, because he was certain she wouldn’t be able to articulate the need. He’d seen many Doms set their submissives up for failure, but that had never been his style. Asking Reagan a question he was sure she couldn’t answer wouldn’t do anything to build trust between them.
“We’re almost there, baby. Two more and then I’m going to fuck you. As soon as I’ve gotten off, we’re going to take a shower together.” He didn’t give her time to think about the implications of what he’d just said before he delivered the last two slaps, one immediately after the other. These had been harsher than the first three, and her knees buckled briefly before she moved back into position. He gave her a few seconds for the pain to morph into something much more pleasurable before he moved behind her and pushed balls deep in one thrust.
She screamed, and he felt her internal muscles clamp down around him, testing his control. For the first time since he’d been a teenager, Rafe almost lost control of his release. The combination of her submission and tight sheath threatened to launch him over the edge. He’d been so lost in the fog of desire, so eager to fuck her Rafe had forgotten her earlier admission that she hadn’t had sex in a couple of years.
Without moving, he asked, “Are you okay, baby?” Her vaginal walls rippled around him and her soft groan answered his question, but he waited—needing to hear the words. “Reagan, I asked you a question and I expect an answer.”
“I’m sorry, Sir. I had to pull myself together enough to respond. I’m afraid that first stretch was so amazing I almost came, and I couldn’t think of anything but holding back. I’m fine, other than worrying about coming without permission, because sweet Mother of God, it feels so good.”
Rafe had made subs come just by talking to them—hell, he’d done it numerous times. After all, ninety percent of the pleasure of sex originated in the brain. But he’d never had a woman’s words send him so perilously close to the edge. Reagan’s willingness to be transparent was a gift he’d treasure. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against the sensitive shell of her ear. His hoarse whisper of possession made her shiver and solidified his commitment to the truth of the one word he’d managed to push past his lips. “Mine.” It was a cross between a declaration and a promise. Then he pulled back and surged forward, inching deeper with each thrust until the tip of his cock pressed against her cervix.
Knowing his seed was going to splash against the opening to her womb sent a lightning bolt of possessiveness arching through him. It wasn’t until that moment that he realized he hadn’t worn a condom. He’d never fucked a woman without protection, but h
e couldn’t force himself to pull out before the first spurts of cum exploded from his balls. The heat seared its way from his tip, and the feeling of his cum washing back over his sensitive tip almost made his knees buckle out from under him.
His body lay pressed against hers. He prayed he wasn’t crushing her, because there wasn’t a chance in hell his arms would hold him up enough to roll to the side. Hopefully, his knees would regain some dignity, and he’d be able to stand in a few seconds.
“Fucking hell, baby. You decimated me.” He’d known it would be good between them, but this was so far beyond good he wasn’t even sure there was a word to describe it.
The walls of her pussy were rippling around him, and he was absurdly pleased when his cock remained hard. She hadn’t said anything to him, but he could tell by her breathing she was struggling to hold her orgasm at bay. That knowledge fueled his effort to stand. Feeling his dick slip free of her depths was bittersweet, but seeing his pearly white seed flow from between her folds made him want to beat his chest like fucking Tarzan. Christ, I’m turning into a God damned Neanderthal.
An hour later, he emerged from the shower with Reagan cradled against his chest. He’d given her two screaming orgasms that left her as limp as the over-cooked noodle she’d compared herself to. He set her on the counter after toweling her off. The intimacy of combing her hair made him want to slide her to the edge of the marble surface, bury himself to the hilt, and begin all over again.
Rafe made certain she was steady on her feet before leading her to bed. Climbing in behind her, he pulled her against his chest. With his arm wrapped around her, his hand cupped her breast possessively. “I’ve never fucked a woman without a condom, baby. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you, but I swear to you that I’m clean.”
