Bunny and the Beast [Divine Creek Ranch 22] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)

by Heather Rainier

  Cecelia chuckled as she handed Joseph the drink she’d been mixing for him. “Yes, but it’s always been the smile of a predator. A lion or a tiger, maybe? This is the smile of a pussycat having his belly scratched. Purring,” she added in her soft Bahamian accent. “Purrr.”

  Samson chuckled and rubbed his chest, just over his heart. “You know we’re teasing, my friend, but I envy you the challenge she’s giving you. While you were walking Hector, Juno, and Jillian to their suite, a couple of members asked if I knew whether Bunny has any sisters who are as full of spunk as she is.”

  He frowned at Samson and added, “They didn’t approach her, did they?”

  Samson shook his head. “With your collar on? No. They saw me nearby, serving as her bodyguard and asked.”

  Joseph shook his head. “As far as close family goes, it’s just her brother and her grandmother. She’s the breadwinner in their family.”

  Bubbling laughter from several yards away drew their attention, and Samson nodded. “Looks as though Jade and Blake have hit it off.”

  Joseph nodded, angling his head so he could observe without appearing to. Jade sat at Blake’s feet, dressed in a green satin corset and G-string that matched the shade of her jade-green eyes perfectly. She was chatting with Blake, using her hands as she spoke. He laughed with her as if she’d told a joke, and she put her hands to her pink cheeks before placing them on his knees. Blake spoke to her and motioned to the play areas, and she responded to him as if he’d asked a question. Joseph waited for signs she was reluctant to play with him, but her body language stayed open, and her submissive posture, as ever, was perfect. Normally, her perfectionism was a point of concern for him, but he saw the willingness in the way she kept her eyes on Blake and nodded as he spoke.

  “I imagine we’ll be having a collaring ceremony before too long,” Samson said, his gaze on her as well.

  “She and I had a meeting of the minds earlier. It’s still early days for her, but at least now she’s moving forward. I think he’ll be good for her. I’ve already warned Blake she has to meet two other Doms first.”

  Samson grunted. “How’d he take that news? The man looks ready to claim her right now.”

  “I agree with you, and he was up-front about having feelings for her, but he knows she needs to explore her world a little bit before she makes a choice. I guess I should’ve pushed her a little sooner.”

  “You guess?” Samson asked, tilting his head down to eye him. “You don’t usually question yourself about your decisions. You were letting a friend move along at her own pace, only it turns out she was frozen. I can’t say I blame her. It’s hard to let go and move on when you find the perfect person for you and they slip through your fingers. Maybe it’s better to never have someone like that than to have them and lose them.”

  Joseph studied Samson, who had turned back to the bar and was gazing off into the distance. The big man seldom showed more than a casual interest in the subs. That wasn’t to say he didn’t care. Maybe it was that he was careful to not give any of them any ideas about him. He’d been Joseph’s right hand since the club had opened, and although he appeared happy, Joseph didn’t know if he had much of a social life outside the club and his career in law enforcement.

  Bunny appeared to be having a good time on the dance floor, so Joseph took the seat next to Samson when it was vacated by another member and positioned himself so they could talk and he could also keep his eyes on his sub. She blew him a kiss from the dance floor and laughed when he tilted his head, without breaking eye contact with her, and chomped as though he’d caught her kiss in mid-air with his teeth.

  Samson looked at him as if he had two heads, and Joseph schooled his expression and said, “It’s usually for the subs that I serve as matchmaker, but I wonder, why is it that in all the years you’ve been playing here you’ve never found a sub who you felt a deeper connection with?”

  Samson’s heavy shoulders rose and fell with his deep sigh, and he tipped his drink to his lips and took a deep swallow. He gave a half-shake of his head but didn’t respond.

  “What about Victoria, from earlier? The cardiac surgeon. It’s obvious there’s affection between the two of you, and you were more than content in giving her aftercare.”

  His friend looked around, making sure they didn’t have an audience. “She called to see if I’d be here this evening because she needed me. She lost a patient this morning, during surgery. A newborn. And she heard that one of her former patients died in a car accident. The double whammy was just more than she could handle. The last time we played she told me a little about her career and how much stress she internalizes with it, and I told her that, if I could help, I would, and I gave her my cell phone number. But there’s no connection there beyond friendship, and that’s a mutual thing. She said her schedule would be hell on a relationship, and I’m okay with that.”

  “As long as it’s mutually agreed upon, Samson. I don’t expect you to service the masochists out of a sense of duty. You’re supposed to get something out of this, too.”

  Samson grinned and pointed at the dance floor. “So long as I get to spank, paddle, and whip little girls and make them cry I’m good. One of these days I’ll find a luscious woman like that one who I can unleash the beast on. Oh, wait. You’ve already claimed that title, haven’t you, Beastly?”

  Shit. “Keep your voice down. I don’t want that nickname getting out.” He hid his grin behind his rocks glass as he lifted it to his lips.

  Cecelia chuckled and made big eyes at him, merriment glowing in their golden brown depths. “Too late—Beastly.”

  Samson was still watching the dance floor, and he started laughing, a full-bodied barking sound, and pointed. “I knew she couldn’t behave herself for long. Where did she get that?”

  Joseph squinted at the dance floor, watching his bratty, wayward sub with her friends. “I take my eyes off of her for two seconds…”

  “And she gets into mischief. At least she hasn’t smacked the wrong butt with it,” Samson said, wheezing laughter as Joseph set his drink down.

  Bunny lifted her gaze to him as he rose from his seat, and she popped her hand over her mouth in an oops! gesture and hid his brand-new calfskin flogger, the newest in his private collection, behind her back.

  He’d mentioned the purchase to Hector, and his friend had asked to see it because Juno had a particular liking for calfskin. The craftsman had dyed the soft leather a vivid blue-green, to his exact specifications. He’d asked Hughes to bring the flogger from his private dungeon so Hector could see, firsthand, the quality of workmanship. He’d also imagined holding the intricately wrapped and perfectly balanced handle as he swung the flogger for Bunny.

  Not at her. For her.

  She must’ve snuck over to the seating area and absconded with it because he was certain none of the other subs, especially Mona, would’ve dared touch it.

  The slow, seductive vocalizations of the next song began, and the rhythm of the dancers changed with the slow, methodic beat of Hozier’s “Arsonist’s Lullabye.” The lights on the dance floor changed color to reflect the mood, and Bunny bit her lip as she watched him approach. He felt the attention of both Doms and subs on him as they watched the scene unfold.

  No fear. Her sparkling eyes held only devilry as she edged from the dance floor, keeping several pieces of furniture between them.

  That’s all right, fiammetta. I have all night.

  He heard her panting, and he shook his head when one of the Doms tried to halt her so he could catch her more easily. She lifted the flogger and stroked it along her bare torso, and when she moved under a light, he saw the goose bumps as they rose on her skin.

  Tracking her like a predator was more than half the fun for him as he slowly backed her into a corner, near a fountain.

  “Give me my flogger, Bunny.”

  She licked her lower lip and bit it. She was holding the flogger behind her back, but he saw the long falls, a perfect blue to match her
eyes, hanging past her shapely hips. In his mind’s eye, he could already see her skin, marked and hot from the flogging, her eyes dazed as she begged for more.

  “Can you say please?”

  Now that he’d known a sub who challenged him, who knowingly riled his dominant side, how could he ever have thought he’d be satisfied with a perfect, biddable sub?

  She wants me to say please. “Please.”

  “That was nice, but it’s better if you don’t growl at me first. Now say pretty please with sugar on top.”

  Absolutely in her element, Bunny giggled and smirked as she kept her eyes on him, ready to move if he did, and drew the falls over her bare thigh. He could almost hear the soft calfskin slide over her silken flesh, could practically feel the vibration through the handle as the lengths fell in a rush to swing back and forth between her thighs.

  “Bunny—”

  “I don’t think I ever told you, but my mama’s family originally came from Gonzales, Texas. Do you know where that is?”

  That low rumble came from his chest again. Damn, but she brought out the animal in him. “Yes, Bunny.”

  “They have a town motto. Not all towns do, but they do. Do you know what it is?”

  Grrr. “Bunny.” Knowing she had a point to get to, he sighed and said, “What is their town motto?” He stood in place and folded his arms over his chest, feeling the attention of the club on him.

  She flicked her glowing gaze up and down his body. His cock was rigid and achingly hard, trapped in his boxers. The flush in her cheeks told him she saw the ridge at his groin, and her nipples hardened to tight points as she drew the flogger across them.

  She gripped the handle of the flogger and her eyes twinkled as she slowly stroked it in an up and down motion, teasing him. “That growl is so sexy, but you have to listen first. You won’t understand if I don’t tell you the story behind the motto. The first battle of the Texas Revolution came about when Mexican officials representing that dictatorial dickhead Santa Anna decided that, in order to control the Texan settlers, it was a bad idea to let the town keep their cannon. So they sent a message to them saying, ‘Give it back.’ And do you know what the brave settlers of Gonzales told them?”

  “No, but I’m hoping you’ll tell me soon, damn it.” She was stroking the flogger handle in that erotic fashion on purpose. He clasped his hands at the small of his back, his fingers twitching with the need to grasp great handfuls of her hair in them.

  She snorted and slowly shook her finger back and forth at him, the fiery-headed little demon. “Temper, Beastly. Now, bear in mind I’m paraphrasing here, but those brave men refused to relinquish that cannon and sent a message back. ‘You want it? Come and take it.’”

  Under her spell, her eyes enticing him to come closer, he ignored the tingling on his back and the absence of conversation around him. Only the club music accompanied the pounding in his heart and the regular, rapid flutter of the pulse at her throat.

  “As you wish, fiammetta,” he murmured, close enough to see the flecks of green surrounding the dark edge of her pupils. Her breathing was rapid, coming in puffs from her lips that he felt against his throat as she looked up at him. The flush in her cheeks had spread to her throat and her shoulders, and her nipples, still so red and ripe from their earlier adornment, were tightened up into peaks that must positively throb with a fiery ache. Full of spirit, but not defiance, she watched him. Waiting.

  Yes.

  One glance, to the floor in front of her. He backed away a few inches to give her space, and she didn’t look away as she lowered to her knees. The flogger handle, resting in her opened palms, was lifted to him. Not merely acquiescence. Supplication.

  Bunny Carrigan didn’t give over to anyone easily. But she gave over to him. He didn’t need her to lick his shoes. He didn’t want her to crawl behind him. She gave the submission he required, falling to her knees with only the nonverbal cue. He wished all submissives were as observant.

  The sounds around him gradually filtered into his consciousness, returning to normal levels as Doms and subs resumed their conversations or their play. If he’d needed an indicator she was ready to visit his private dungeon, she’d just given it. The first pair of eyes he met as he turned from her were Randall’s, across the club, where he’d been observing. Randall nodded and then leaned his head toward Samson, who was nearby. Walking slowly between the seating areas, Joseph caught Samson’s eye, and the sadist nodded affirmatively at him.

  They’d handle what remained of the night’s festivities. He didn’t have to watch the members surrounding him to know Bunny was right behind him. Not touching, not smarting off, or pulling any pranks.

  Blinking widely, Jade’s eyes were fastened on the swinging falls of the flogger in his hand, and then her gaze flicked past him to the woman walking behind him, and her brows went up, but not in shock. She smiled. Jade, who a month before would’ve disapproved of a sub meeting the direct gaze of a Dom in the club, now smiled at him and then turned her grin on the Dom seated before her.

  Blake rose to shake his hand as he paused beside his chair, and the Dom smiled down at his potential sub and then said, “I sense a paradigm shift amongst some of the subs, Joseph.”

  Joseph nodded, still not looking back. He could sense her body heat, just inches from his back. “As long as there’s no mutiny happening, I’m fine with that. A periodic shake-up can be a good thing.”

  “Enjoy your sub,” Blake said with a nod to him before returning to his seat.

  Joseph stalked to his private entrance to the club, another of the hidden doors placed strategically throughout the mansion, and held it open for her. The door closed behind them with a soft thud.

  “I thought we were visiting the dungeon tonight, Sir?” she asked softly, her hands tugging gently at his sleeve.

  “We are. It’s time I showed you my personal dungeon.”

  “Oh. Am I in trouble?” she asked, and the soft syllables of her query trembled.

  In the quiet of the stairway, her words reverberated in his head. The hint of trepidation mixed with arousal, and curiosity. With that one utterance, she told him everything he needed to know.

  He paused on the stairs and tilted her chin up so he could see her eyes. “When I had you restrained on the medical exam table, playing with you and teasing you, after a certain point it would’ve been possible for you to get off without my help—or permission, wouldn’t it?”

  She licked her lip, as though hyper-conscious of his fingers on her chin but she gave him a slight nod. “Yes, Sir.”

  “But you didn’t. You were begging to come. Why not just take what you obviously wanted and needed?”

  Her dark lashes flickered down and the flush in her cheeks deepened. She turned those lovely blue-green eyes back up to his. “Because it would’ve disappointed you and ruined the scene.”

  “But the choice was yours, wasn’t it? In essence, making you the one in control.”

  “I suppose.”

  He turned to continue up the steps. “That is submission, fiammetta. And no, you’re not in trouble. I’ve decided to reward you.”

  She was half a step behind him, visible in his periphery as he climbed the stairs at a slow pace. “This flogger was made by a friend who specializes in the crafting of BDSM tools. Whips. Paddles. Floggers made of whatever materials your mind could conjure up. Calfskin. Suede. String. Chain. Rabbit fur.”

  “Rabbit fur? That doesn’t sound scary.”

  Joseph chuckled. “Oh, ye of little faith. He made this flogger for me to my exact specifications. The leather is as soft as butter, as I’d expect from him, but it’s the color I wanted to be perfect.”

  He unlocked the door at the top of the stairs, the scent of leather with a hint of lemon furniture wax and wood soap providing welcome into his private space. She came abreast of him in the doorway, and as she looked up at him, he lifted the flogger and stroked her cheekbone with the super-soft strands bending away from where they were anch
ored at the handle. The dyed leather picked up the mix of blue and green flecks that made her eyes snap with turquoise fire.

  “Perfect match.”

  She bit her lower lip and reached up to stroke the strands of leather. “You had it made to match my eye color?”

  “I did.”

  Her hand slid over the leather, and her fingers caressed his as she gazed up at him. “Use it on me?” Not a demand. A request.

  “One of these days, fiammetta, I’m going to discover the secret of your boundless energy.”

  “Hey, we make time and energy for what we care about, right, Sir?” she said, her lips curving into a shadow of their former cheekiness, tempered by tenderness. “I was just playing down there but…”

  He reached out to the dimmer switch and brought the lights up so she could see. He’d expected her to bounce back, say something impertinent like holy spitballs! Her jaw dropped, as expected. He heard her gulp but, otherwise, made no sound. Even more telling, she continued on with her earlier thought.

  “Something happened between us down there. For a split second I thought I’d backed myself into a corner with no way out that wasn’t embarrassing for either myself…or you.” Worry reflected for a moment in her drawn brows, as if the latter thought bothered her.

  He nodded as he removed his dark gray suit jacket and hung it on the valet by the door. “You took a chance doing that, and I admire your…guts, for lack of a better word.” He loosened his necktie and pulled it from his collar. He smiled at it, realizing he’d chosen it for the same reason he’d chosen that color for her flogger.

  A soft chuckle sounded behind him. “One of the subs, Shae, told me I was straight-up crazy for handling your tools. I wasn’t doing it out of disrespect.”

  “I know you weren’t,” he replied as he unbuttoned the top two buttons on his dress shirt. He knew she’d done it because, whether she realized it subconsciously or not, she was ready to move to the next level.

  “Are you going to punish me for doing that? Touching your stuff and teasing you?”

  He kept his smile out of her sight and chuckled in that evil way that gave her goose bumps. “I should, shouldn’t I?”