by Leigh Curtis
But to do so without any personal gain would make her look soft. And the one thing she couldn’t afford to do was appear weak in the eyes of the people around her. If she did, they’d be on her like vultures on a three‐day‐old corpse.
“Sorry, Mr. MacReynolds. My offer stands. You want to deal with me, then you have to submit to my rules.”
*****
“…you have to submit to my rules…”
The words rang in Wade’s ears as loud as the prison chapel’s bells ringing before an execution. He cursed under his breath. The days of his time spent locked away in a cage came back to him full force. One meal a day, water so foul it burned his throat and gagged him just to smell it, and days on end without sunlight made him remember all right. Still, he reminded himself, this was a woman’s bed. How bad could that be?
But not just any woman. Lily Barnett. And he knew her kind of woman.
For an instant, his mind went back to his prison cell. The smells and filth returned to his senses full force. The memories of that place assaulted his psyche, gripping his heart with thick fists of shame and anger.
“Open up for me, Wade,” Rosalie’s voice rang in his ears to this day. She’d done the unthinkable to him. Raped him and had him beaten half to death. The warden’s wife had been very exacting in her tastes, and when she’d finished with him, he’d felt the whip on his back and then been subjected to days on end without so much as a kind word from anybody in that damn, forsaken place.
But that was two years ago, and he’d survived, damn it. He’d survived, and he could take anything as long as it meant his freedom. Chances were no matter what the locals said, Lily couldn’t be as bad as all that, could she?
“What do you say, Mr. MacReynolds? I haven’t got all night.”
Well, neither did he.
“When do we start?”
“Tonight. Now.”
Wade’s balls drew up into his abdomen. He wasn’t ready for this.
“Fine.”
Although it wasn’t a death sentence, it sounded pretty damn harsh. Not knowing what to do, he looked around the room. The sound of her laughter surprised him.
“Not here, Mr. MacReynolds.” She turned and walked to the corner of the room and pulled a bell rope. A tall, dark‐haired man appeared in the doorway. He was roughly the size of a tree trunk, and when he looked at Wade, it was with only one eye. The other was sealed shut, and ragged skin scarred over half of his face. There were other scars visible on his face and arms, too, and he looked as if he could deal out as many blows as his grizzled body had taken.
“Yes, Mistress?”
“Tell Helga to prepare the lavender room. Then, take Mr. MacReynolds out back for a bath.” She turned a coy glance his way. “I don’t take to filthy men.”
Wade watched as she walked out of the room. Anger and fear mixed in his blood like whisky and fire. How dared she!
“This way, sir.”
Wade followed the servant down the long hall and to the back of the house. Together they walked to a tall, shed‐like building beside the outhouse. Taking out a set of keys, the servant unlocked the door and motioned him inside.
The first thing Wade noticed was the warmth of the room. And, in the corner a long tub sat, filled with steaming water. Beside the tub stood a petite, white‐haired woman. She waved him over.
“Come, come, Monsieur. Off with your clothes and into the tub. The mistress awaits her pleasure.”
Wade crossed his arms. “I can bathe myself.”
She nodded once and smiled. “Of course, you can. Now hurry, before she changes her mind.”
Changes her mind, indeed, he thought. Crossing his arms he waited. For a moment, neither of the servants moved, each one waiting for the other. Then, the woman shrugged.
“You are a stubborn man, Mr. MacReynolds,” she said, making a tisking noise. Then, motioning toward the door, she nodded once. “As you wish. It seems the Mistress has her work cut out for her.”
When the two of them had gone, Wade took off his clothes and laid them on the chair beside the tub. Truth was, he didn’t need a bath all that much. Since he’d left the prison he’d made it a practice to scrub himself daily. Being dirty reminded him of being in that filthy place, and that led to other memories he’d decided to keep buried deep in his psyche.
Once in the hot water, Wade’s anger began to dissipate somewhat. The bath actually felt good on his sore muscles. He’d worked hard that day, and it wasn’t quite so bad ending his labors this way. That and the thought of the prim redhead under him was a very stimulating notion. Clean sheets, soft bed, and a willing woman. Well, there were worse ways of getting what he wanted.
That is if she let him pleasure her the way he wanted. He suspected that Lily Barnett wasn’t used to letting men have their way with her. Inside her bedroom or out of it. He remembered what she’d said. Her rules.
Well, he’d see about that, now wouldn’t he? Closing his eyes, he let his hands wonder over his body. Oh, yeah. He’d let her play with him a little, he thought. First, nibbling on his nipples and then running her tongue from his mouth, down the side of his face, his neck, chest, belly, and to his cock.
At the notion of the lovely woman’s attentions, old one‐eye stood to attention. It had been a long time since he’d had the pleasure. Of course, his sojourn on Rosalie’s bed didn’t count. She’d forced him. Forced him and then violated him. Not this time, he told himself.
Old one‐eye would have his way with Lily, and she’d be damn glad of it, but it would be Wade who’d be in control of the situation.
*****
Lily paced the length of her room. What in blazes had she been thinking? Her clit seemed to have taken over her senses since the moment she’d laid eyes on Wade MacReynolds. Now, every waking minute was agony. Pure agony.
“He’s ready, Cherie,” Marie said. She stood at Lily’s door, arms crossed and wearing an amused expression.
“Yes, of course.” Lily started to move toward the door, but Marie held her hand up.
“This one is different,” she said.
“Aren’t they all?” Lily didn’t care. She was tired and excited and wanting to be done with this business.
“Non, they are not. He has scars. I think you should be careful.”
“Scars? What kind of scars?” “Marks from a whip, I think.”
“Oh.” Lily’s mouth went dry. She still felt the sting from the time one of her customers had taken a strap to her back. Fortunately, he’d been a weak man, and her young back had healed completely. Healed on the outside, at least. She still bore scars. They were just deeper than most. “I suppose a different kind of discipline is called for, then. Either way, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Marie squeezed her arm, concern shadowing her expression. “Be careful, Cherie.”
“I’m always, careful, Marie.”
*****
Lily walked to the lavender room. She could hear the faint rustling of sheets and the whispering sound of his sigh. It was strange how his presence affected her. Her legs became heated and damp at the very thought of him. She hesitated. If even thinking about him brought such a quick reaction, then what would bedding him be like?
She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. For a moment, her mind wandered. Sinewy limbs and the sensuous feel of his damp skin against hers heightened her arousal. Lily knew if she didn’t take him soon, she would explode.
Leaning against the doorframe and sliding her hand beneath her robe, she caressed her breasts, first one and then the other. Each nipple had hardened to a diamond point, and the itchy feeling of anticipation curled between her legs. Answering the call, she let her hand slip downward, rubbing small, tight circles on her abdomen and then to the mass of curls below.
Fingers dipping deeper, she spread her legs slightly and massaged the heated flesh of her outer lips. The whisper of a sigh came from the other room.
“I know you’re there,” he said, his voice thick and lo
w.
*****
The minute he’d seen her silhouette in the doorway, Wade knew he was in for trouble. Oh, not the whips against his skin kind, to be sure. No, the kind that could tear a man’s insides out if he let it. The kind where a woman could trample a man’s heart and then hand it to him on a platter, with him smiling like a fool, thanking her, and begging for more.
Shit. This was going to be a mite harder than he’d thought.
From the moment he’d come into the room and seen the display of items laid out for him, he’d known that tonight was going to challenge his strength in every way possible. Long, mahogany whips were mounted on the walls around the room, the leather straps looked well‐oiled and showed signs of long use. Then, on the bedside table, there were other things… disturbing things. A coil of thick braided rope, a horse’s harness, and God help him, even a thick, ivory carved dildo lying in a red velvet‐lined wooden box. Damned if his ass didn’t pucker just at the thought of it.
Of course, the long, white silk scarves that were fastened to every post of the four‐poster bed didn’t shore up any confidence in what would transpire that evening, either. Already his wrists burned, and his cock tingled at the thought of his being tied down. Hell of a thing, he thought, when the mind had one idea and the body another.
“Pain and pleasure are not very different,” Rosalie had once told him during one of their ‘sessions.’ Damned if she hadn’t been right. But the pain or the pleasure hadn’t been the worst of it. Nope. He’d been humiliated, made helpless, and treated like an animal. Well, not tonight. He’d screw the woman’s brains out, but he wouldn’t let her tie him down. That was his rule.
So, before he took off a single shred of clothing, he’d taken out his pocketknife and cut down every scarf. Lily Barnett wouldn’t get that particular pleasure, at least. As for the rest, well, he’d endure it all.
Of course, all the time he’d been bathing, he’d been thinking of only one thing. How to get what he needed without humiliating himself any further. After all, Lily Barnett was a woman underneath her all business bullshit. He’d just have to woo her was all. Get her to fall hard for him. Then, he could use his influence to get her to sign off on the water rights for good.
Without putting off the inevitable, he shed his clothes and walked over to the bed. A huge mahogany behemoth, it sat squat in the middle of the room, dominating everything around it. Pulling back the bed’s spread, he ran his hand across the sheets. Lily Barnett was not a woman for quilts or laces, that was plain. This bed was made for pleasure. Fine silken sheets, probably from the Orient, a thick Persian rug on the floor, and the scent of polished pine heavy in the air.
Oh, yeah. Lily knew what men wanted. Masculinity permeated his surroundings like honey soaking into a biscuit. He could see her machinations a mile away. First, lower a man’s defenses with obvious comfort. Then ply him with her full arsenal of sexual delights. She’d keep it coming until he couldn’t refuse her anything. Yeah, he’d wriggle around like a wasp caught in a spider web for a while, thinking he might find some way to escape. But a woman’s wiles were stickier than horse glue, and very few men had the strength to withstand a woman like Lily.
What Lily didn’t know was that she was up against a man of a different sort. He might be desperate, but he wasn’t stupid. Sure, he was larger than most men, and when he needed to be, meaner. But he was smarter, too. He was more determined than ever to beat Lily at her own game.
Just when he was sure his plan would work, Lily showed up at the door. Her petite form that was rounded at just the right places, her scent of female musk and lavender invaded his senses, and every part of him turned rock hard in anticipation. Damn it all, he thought, this wasn’t going to be easy.
He watched as she paused, the slightest hint of moonlight behind her. Then, to his near undoing, she began touching herself. Caressing her breasts, rubbing her thighs, and then reaching up and stroking her center. God, she was beautiful. More than beautiful, she was inviting, seductive, sensuous. She was a feast beside a cool stream, and he was a starving man crawling through a desert.
“I know you’re there,” he said, using his tone to draw her forward.
She hesitated a moment longer, and he could imagine her small, luscious tongue darting out between her full lips and moistening them. God, he wanted her bad.
“I see you’ve redecorated.”
Wade pulled in a breath. “I don’t take to being tied down. You can do anything you want, but my hands and legs stay free.”
She chuckled. “Those were just for looks, cowboy. I intend to have you use your hands. Of course, I get to tell you what to do with them, and you will obey. That is, if you want me to sign this week’s agreement.”
“Of course.”
Wade held his face steady, though inwardly he smiled. One thing he did know was how to pleasure a woman. Back before prison and Rosalie, he’d been a very good lover. It had been before his life had gone horribly wrong, but he did remember, and for a little while he could pretend the last few years hadn’t happened. Forgetting was one thing he’d gotten really good at.
“Good. First thing, I want you on your belly.”
Wade didn’t hesitate, but took his time pulling back the sheet, just enough so she could get a real good look at what was waiting for her. Like it had a mind of its own, his cock sprang upwards when the thin material was lifted. He heard her catch her breath, and let his satisfied grin slide over his face. He could have sworn she’d swayed just a little at the sight of him.
Then, swinging his right leg over first, he turned his ass upwards, flexing his muscles just so she could see the hard outline of him.
His efforts were rewarded with the mixture of a grunt and a moan. Damned if he’d ever heard a woman make a sound like that. He answered with a rumble of his own.
The air in the room was cool, and goose flesh raised on his skin, but not from the temperature. The pressure of his body on his cock kept a pocket of warmth between him and the sheets, but the heat of his desire spread fast over his body.
“My, my, Mr. MacReynolds. You are a fine measure of a man. Very fine, indeed. I dare say, you are pretty close to perfect.”
Wade swallowed, suddenly glad for the darkness in the room. The fact was, he may have been close to perfect, but the scars of the whip marks that cut across his back would tell the tale of his life sure enough. He doubted that the sight of his newly healed flesh, no matter how ugly it was, would matter much to a woman like Lily. The truth was, more and more he was able to forget about his time in prison, but the sting of his torture never fully left him.
Biting his lip, Wade pushed the memories of his pain and shame away. He had to keep all of his wits about him if he was going to best the whore at her own game. Gritting his teeth, he took a long, slow deep breath.
Lily started advancing into the room, taking her time, step by step as she neared the bed. Wade felt the air move around him, her scent growing stronger as she came, the wafting perfume of her readiness heralding her sexual anticipation. Next, he heard the soft rustle of her clothing as it floated to the floor, and his body twitched in response.
He waited for her to climb into the bed with him, when she surprised him with a sharp smack on his ass.
Flipping halfway over, he growled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Settle down, cowboy. I’m just testing my wares. I want to make sure that I’m getting prime beef, if you know what I mean. Now, back on your stomach before I change my mind.”
Wade did as he was told, but he stared hard at her for a moment before doing so. Then, when he did flop back down, he twisted his fists into the sheets and gripped them with all of his strength. His whole idea of wooing her into submission was going to have to be rethought once the night was over. If he survived, that was.
“You see? That wasn’t so hard. “ Then she sighed, and touched him again, this time caressing him on the back of his thigh and letting her hand glide up to h
is ass. She lingered there a moment, her warmth seeping into him little by little.
Then, before he knew what was happening, she vaulted onto the bed, her warm pussy against his thighs, her legs trapping his between them, her hands gripping his ass in so tight that he could feel her nails pressing into his skin. A rush of air escaped him, and he grunted.
“Now this is more like it,” he said between clenched teeth.
“You like?” Then she did the unimaginable, kneading his buttocks like thick dough, round and round, up and down.
Wade nearly shattered from pulse of excitement that surged through him.
“Easy, there, Miz Barnett, or the show will be over before it gets started,” he said, half kidding. Well, more than half, maybe. He was pretty damn near to bursting as it was.
“That’s not what I want to hear, Mr. MacReynolds. In this room, you are my slave. You’ll do as I tell you and hold it until I give you permission.”
Fury and fear exploded inside him, and before he knew what he was doing, Wade jerked sideways. He grabbed her at the waist and flipped over, his body pinning hers to the bed. For a moment, he did nothing, just stared at her, angry and breathless. When he did speak his voice was dark and threatening.
“You listen here, whore. I’m not some pussy‐whipped cowpoke. I do as I please with any woman in bed. I only agreed to have sex with you, not to be beaten or tied or treated like a side of meat. You want to trade for the water rights, fine. But fucking is all you’ll get out of me. Now, make up your mind. Do you want it, or not?” To emphasize his meaning, he pushed his cock against her opening.
He didn’t know what to expect, but even in the dim moonlight, he saw her surprise change to admiration. She gave him a wide, seductive smile. “Well, what are you waiting for? Ride it, cowboy.”
*****
His chest pressed against hers, Lily felt the power of his words vibrating above her. He was raw and immovable and just what she needed. At her urging, he ground his hips against hers, pressing against her pelvis and letting her feel the length of his cock between the soft folds of her labia. It was all she could do to keep from purring. She started to comment on his delicious size and incredible girth when he dipped down and captured her mouth with his own.
