by Vonna Harper
Was he complaining about his employer and, if so, did he expect her to do something about it? Darn it, wasn’t everything going his way? He could do whatever he wanted to her like unzip himself and—
“You don’t want to hear this,” he muttered. “Hell, I don’t want to talk about it.”
His weight continued to hold her in place, but it was getting easier to breathe. Being mugged had been a terrifying experience, in large part because it had been so unexpected. In contrast, she’d gone into today with her eyes open—at least, she’d thought she’d known what she’d signed up for.
It hadn’t been this.
Or had it?
She flexed her ankles, pushed her toes against the floor and lifted her buttocks maybe an inch. Even as she tried to make her peace with the sex-starved woman who was doing this thing, she prayed he’d noticed. When he didn’t react, she struggled to free herself from the bed but couldn’t, thanks to his weight, his all-commanding weight. His slipped his hands from her shoulders to her waist, burning her as he traveled.
“Training fascinates me,” he said. “The deep, get-it-done process of fashioning a person into something new. A just-broken horse tolerates being ridden. Maybe he figures it’s a fair trade for regular hay and water, but in his heart of hearts he still longs to run free. That’s not what I intend to do with you.”
You want to alter my reality so I won’t think to fight your ropes.
Her thoughts swirled until she could barely concentrate on what was happening. Every time she tried to imagine herself holding up her hands for binding, however, her mind balked. This was all too new, with too much happening. Eyes closed, she took stock of her body, from her cheek against the satiny spread, to Master’s knee sealed against her crotch. There wasn’t an inch of her he didn’t impact, a breath she took that didn’t include his essence.
“Enough. I have no intention of revealing anything about myself.”
But he already had. She just didn’t know how to process the little she’d learned.
One, then two arms slipped between her waist and the bed. He lifted her off it and pulled her back against him, not stopping until his erection was mashed between them and grinding into the small of her back. Her fingers hummed with the desire to capture his cock while instinct warned her not to try.
After all, he was the one in charge.
“Spit out the gag,” he ordered. “I’m going to ask some questions.”
And she would answer as honestly as possible, she decided as she pushed out the sex-tasting garment. It briefly hung up on her chin then fell to the bed.
“Done,” she announced around her humming, ever-heating body.
“Yeah. I know.”
Wondering if she’d done something wrong by speaking without permission, she struggled to focus on anything other than her naked body and the masculine form behind her. He wrapped one arm around her breasts and the other over her waist. The longer she stood there without use of her hands the righter it felt. This way, he made all the decisions and moves. All she had to do was react.
React, yes. Feel, yes.
He took one deep breath after another. Her thoughts followed the act. What was it she’d concluded, that he outweighed her by about a hundred pounds? He was nearly twice as big as she was, which made him doubly intimidating.
Arousing to the max.
His muscled forearm flattened her breasts. He seemed to be everywhere and everything, all-consuming. Hungry cock grinding against her. Light-headed from the overload of sensation, she arched her back and pushed her buttocks toward him. Two could do this thing, this sexual dance of desire and anticipation.
Maybe she held the upper hand after all.
Her self-confidence and need for adventure growing, she leaned into him. “This feels good,” she admitted. “Damn good. What—what happens next?”
He sucked in air, one deep breath after another, making her dizzy from the effort. If asked, she wouldn’t have been able to describe the room. How could her surroundings matter when her body was marching down a road she hadn’t known existed?
When only the journey mattered.
“You’re asking what happens next?” he ground out. “You want an outline?”
She’d displeased him in some way, but how could she determine what that was when he’d given her so little?
“I didn’t mean— You said you wanted to ask me some questions.”
More deep breathing on his part followed her comment. Maybe he wasn’t as self-contained as she’d initially believed. She’d come into this—this situation believing she could trust whoever was in charge of her ‘education’ to run every aspect of the show. That was how she’d wanted it.
He released her, not giving her time to prepare before shoving her against the bed. She struck it first with her breasts, followed by her chin. Angry and startled, she planted her feet under her and pushed off it. To her surprise, he made no attempt to force her down again. Her back was to him so she could only guess what he was doing. One thing she knew—the item he’d placed on the bed was a vibrator.
Vibrators brought pleasure. And climaxes.
Shivering, she swiveled and faced him. He didn’t so much as blink as he perched on the seat-less chair.
“Right there.” He jabbed a finger at a spot some two feet in front of him. “Stand there.”
Instead of making a run for the door, she did as he’d commanded. His hard stare made her even more aware of her half-naked state.
What was the point of still wearing a bra and T-shirt when she was nude from the waist down? Someone who didn’t know what this was about might’ve concluded she’d stopped in the middle of getting dressed. That person might’ve wondered why she hadn’t put on her panties before slipping into the pale yellow top she had no use for on a worksite, but maybe he—of course it would be a he—wouldn’t care.
“Tell me something,” he said. “The things I’ve done so far, the bound wrists and getting rid of your panties and shorts, how does that make you feel?”
Master got right to the point. She’d be wise not to forget that.
She dug her toes into the carpet. “Awkward.”
He shook his head. “Damn it, you can do better.”
She hadn’t given him enough. Fighting the piercing glare of his gaze, she looked down at herself. Her breasts hindered her view somewhat, but she could and did fill in the spaces.
“I’m sorry, but I’m in uncharted waters.”
“Why did you decide to come here?”
Momentary relief at not having to answer his earlier question faded as she realized he’d asked an even harder one. At the moment, she was taller than him which, maybe, should have increased her self-confidence but didn’t. The longer she was with him, the more his presence impacted her. Women wouldn’t consider him handsome but neither could they dismiss him. He controlled not just the cabin’s doors, but the air in here. His unrelenting gaze cut through her layers.
She licked her lips. “Even before I learned about the MSDB site, I was questioning certain elements of my existence.”
“You’re too young for a mid-life crisis.”
“It isn’t that.” She shook her head then cast around for what she should say next. She’d always been the quiet one in her family, more comfortable doing than talking. “I have a business that sucks up nearly all of my time. When I was trying to get it off the ground, the only thing that mattered was being able to pay the bills.”
Were his eyes glazing? Maybe this wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Unsure of how to proceed, she slid one foot then the other over the floor.
“Why landscaping? That’s a man’s career.”
“Says who?” she snapped. “Granted, I can’t compete with the big boys, but my customers don’t give a damn about my gender, as long as I complete a job on time and on budget, which I’ve done ninety-nine percent of the time.”
His mouth twitched, the gesture telling her his intention had been to push her buttons.
“Why are we talking about this?” she asked. “I thought— I paid for a sexual experience.”
He stretched out his legs. “Is that the only thing you paid for?”
She closed her mouth. Everything had changed. She’d never so much as imagined an experience like this, but here she was. She’d be crazy not to live this new reality to the fullest.
To try to learn more about herself.
“I don’t fit in a box. My family—I have two older brothers and am close to all four of my male cousins—saw me as a tomboy. I wanted to be included in what they did. Maybe that’s why my feminine potential…”
At a loss for words, she tore her attention from the man she’d called Master and took note of the tree tops just beyond her existence. They continued their wild, disjointed dance. In some respects, the trees were like her, trapped by a greater force.
“Go on.”
Snagged by the low voice, she faced the nameless man again. His casual stance might’ve deceived other people, but she could see beneath the surface to where coiled energy throbbed. The backs of his knuckles on the wooden chair arms had turned white. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell while his gray eyes continued their relentless probing.
Go deep into yourself, they demanded. Maybe he was speaking to both of them.
“I don’t know how to be feminine.” She stuck out a foot that had never had a massage or pedicure. “I own one dress and my makeup—I’ve been out of lipstick for weeks.”
His attention moved from her to what was taking place outside. Something seemed to be changing about him, a growing hardness perhaps. Is it getting darker in here? Maybe a storm was approaching. If that were the case, she might be trapped with him until it was over.
More trapped than she already was.
“If you want to play to your feminine side,” he said, “why don’t you?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Didn’t you?”
“No,” she insisted, then remained silent.
His eyes were definitely duskier than when she’d first spotted him, and the fine lines at his lips were more prominent. He reminded her of a guard dog she’d considered buying but hadn’t because she’d sensed she wouldn’t be able to control it. The difference between then and now was that the dog had been chained up while this man was free to—to attack her if he wanted.
If the impulse became more than he could resist.
“What about you?” she asked. “What brought you here? What do you get out of your association with MSDB?”
He straightened, prompting her to slide back a few inches.
“Don’t,” he commanded. “Stay where you are.”
Or what?
“I don’t understand you.” She leveled him with a stare that came from years of being the boss. “If this is your way of trying to fuck with my mind, I don’t appreciate it.”
A slow shrug rippled through his upper body. “Tell someone who cares. As for not understanding me, that’s exactly what I want.”
“I’m sure it is.”
The ghost of a smile eased his features, followed by a return to stern remoteness. A man whose ‘work’ called for assuming a Dom role should’ve enjoyed what he was doing, shouldn’t he? After all, sex was a major part of the job’s perks, and what male didn’t want that?
“So you were, what, a jock while you were growing up?” he asked.
She rolled her shoulders. “Kind of. I’d rather do something physical and nothing pleased me more than digging in the dirt.” She glanced at the window. The trees lashed about. “Seeing if I can make things grow.”
“Grow.”
The rumbling word pulled her attention back to him. He was looking not at but through her, his mind somewhere else. “What is it?” she asked. “What—?”
“Don’t!” He clenched his jaw. “I was talking, damn it, learning more about you.”
“Were you?”
“Yes. Gardening is a form of nurturing, a trait people associate with the female sex. Just because you don’t wear pink or false lashes doesn’t make you any less a woman.”
Was that a compliment? Maybe that was his off-handed way of pointing out her half-naked state. One thing she did know—as long as she stood before him like this she was hard-pressed to carry on a conversation, let alone try to grasp what was taking place inside him.
He blinked. “When and how did you lose your virginity?”
“What? I thought we were talking about—?”
He started rubbing the chair arms. “About dirt and growing things, no. Answer the damn question.”
So much for thinking there was anything approaching equality between them. She was no longer as aroused as she’d been when he’d dispensed with half of her clothes, but the question took her a step in that direction. Of course he’d insist on keeping the discussion about sexual matters. The bit about gardening had been to knock her off balance.
Besides, sex was what she wanted, wasn’t it?
“I lost my virginity during my senior year of high school.” She felt herself being pulled into the past. “A group of us were at a party. There was drinking and making out. I-I hadn’t done much of either. The music was like drumbeats and the heat—the air was close and hot and alive.”
“You got drunk?”
She’d told a few girlfriends about the first time, so it wasn’t as if she hadn’t been down this road, but she’d been among friends then. Not standing with her legs clamped together in a vain attempt to prevent a stranger from seeing her sex, and her hands helpless behind her.
“High, not drunk. Feeling things I wasn’t handling well because boys kept brushing against my breasts or grabbing my ass.”
“Come closer.” He spread his legs. “Turn around.”
Chapter Nine
Reminding herself that part of why she’d paid for this adventure was to hear words like those, she settled herself between his thighs and presented him with her rear end. Restlessness again claimed her.
“So the boys were doing this?” He ran a nail down her right butt cheek.
“No,” she whimpered, struggling to remain in place with her legs together.
“Maybe this, then?” He raked her left cheek.
“No.” She tried to tuck her buttocks under her. “It wasn’t—”
“I don’t care.” He grabbed both cheeks and squeezed them.
Her spine straightened then arched of its own accord. Her fingers curled inward so her nails dug into her palms. If she wasn’t careful she’d fall forward, which would place her even more at his mercy—not that mercy was part of him.
The pressure let up but nothing about his hold said he might release her. “Am I getting warmer or colder with regard to the night of your unflowering?”
Don’t play along. Maybe that way he’ll relent. “I was dressed back then.”
“What were you wearing?”
“Jeans,” she blurted, because she’d seldom worn anything else.
“Tight ones that cupped you like this?” Discomfort oozed out of her beat by beat as his fingers cradled her ass. “Snug jeans designed to drive horny teenage boys crazy.”
“I didn’t—” Her memory of that night was foggy, but she’d known there weren’t going to be any adults at the house. One of her few girlfriends—she tended to hang out with the boys in Future Farmers—had begged her to go with her because, as her friend had said, everyone except the geeks would be there.
She’d agreed, not just to keep her friend company, but because something had been humming inside her for months.
“I don’t like having to remind my sex slaves to be honest.” He hoisted her cheeks higher. “Finish, damn it.”
‘Sex slave’? Harsh energy drove through her. Despite the heady sensations, however, being half-dressed was a confusing experience. She didn’t know whether to embrace her partial nudity or focus on her top and bra. One thing she was certain of, she wanted him to call her ‘slave’ again.
Despi
te her heated thoughts, she stumbled through a description of that night. At first, the girlfriend she’d gone to the party with had stayed by her side while they’d dealt with their nerves by grading the boys’ appearance. Most had been physically unfinished, more children than men, but a few had crossed over. With two beers fueling her imagination, she’d started her own scoring system. Brad’s voice had dropped and he’d probably shaved several times a week, but his shoulders had been narrow. The Hendley twins had been well over six feet tall. Their hands had been big, their hips narrow and the width of their shoulders—just studying them had dampened her panties. They’d played football, basketball and baseball, which had made them jocks to the max.
Unfortunately, they’d had eyes only for the cheerleaders.
“Then Jake handed me a bottle,” she told the commanding man behind her. “Until then, I’d thought of him as my brother’s friend.”
“Something shifted inside you.”
Master still had hold of her buttocks but he’d simply cradled them as she spun out her story. She’d been able to think and speak around the sensation.
“I guess,” she admitted.
“You guess?” His grip tightened, became almost painful.
“No.” She hated her whimpering tone. “Something changed in me that moment. Jake kept his hands on the bottle longer than necessary and looked at me in a way that made me feel like—like a deer in the headlights.”
“You liked the sensation.”
“Yes.”
“Something a woman and not a child feels.”
Before she could admit he was right, he stood, grabbed her tethered wrists and pushed her arms up, forcing her to bend over. She felt her helplessness in every cell.
“Keep going.”
You don’t have to do this. “We went outside. He’d driven his older brother’s truck.” She had to work at not drooling, and speaking was hard.
“The cab or the bed?”
“The cab,” she got out. “I wouldn’t let him do it out where someone might see.”
