by Sophie Oak
“I didn’t want to leave. I needed this place. I was happy here, so you don’t have to feel guilty.” He couldn’t imagine what his life would have been like if he’d been forced to move to Dallas. He glanced at Nate, who was talking to his deputy, his eyes never straying far from the man in the cell. Nate had grown up in that world. Nate had taken years to accept who he was. He’d tried to fit into society’s version of normal. He’d almost lost Callie in the process. No, he wasn’t angry with his father for letting him stay in Bliss.
He was angry with his father because he hadn’t stayed with him.
The revelation hit him straight in the gut.
He was angry, brutally angry, with his father. All the years of telling himself that he’d built his own family and didn’t need anything from the man had been lies. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his pieced-together family. He did. But he’d needed his dad. He’d needed to know that someone with his blood wanted him for something besides convenient proof that he could procreate.
He looked down, and his hands were shaking.
“Son, I deserve everything you’re thinking right now, but I’m asking you to hear me out.”
Stef stood abruptly. The room seemed to be closing in on him. His father scrambled to get up as well, but Stef moved across the room from him. He couldn’t do this right now. He had too much going through his brain. Everything his father had said reinforced his belief that he was doing the right thing for Jennifer, but the fact that she would soon be gone made him sick. He hadn’t had enough time with her, and he couldn’t allow himself any more. If he did, he’d take over her life. He’d mold her into something she wasn’t.
“Stef?”
A hand on his arm brought him back to the real world. Jennifer looked up at him, her eyes soft and filled with concern. When he focused on her, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him as though she could read his need to be close to her. Without hesitation, he took the comfort she offered, reveling in the way she felt in his arms.
“I’d like to go home, love.”
He felt her head nod as she squeezed him close.
“You keep an eye on her,” Nate said, standing up and walking across the room. His hand came out.
Stef adjusted Jennifer so she was firmly at his side as he shook Nate’s hand. “I will.”
He slid his hand into hers and led her out.
If he was going to lose her soon, he didn’t want to waste a moment on anything as insignificant as the man who had left him behind.
“Stefan.” His father’s voice called out.
He didn’t look back as he walked out the door.
Chapter Fourteen
Jen wasn’t sure what had happened with Stef and his dad, but she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was her job to calm him down. If she allowed him to, he would withdraw, pretending that there was absolutely nothing wrong. He would more than likely tell her that he wanted to work or some such nonsense and leave her alone for the rest of the evening.
That was not going to happen.
Stef pulled his Land Rover into the long drive that led to his house just as the sun was going down. He’d said little since he’d asked Max to give his father a ride back when Sebastian was ready. The whole way home, he’d concentrated on the road. His hands had been perfectly steady on the wheel, but she couldn’t forget the moment when she’d seen them shake. Stef out of control made her heart hurt. It was the one thing he couldn’t handle.
She knew exactly how to give control back to him.
He put the SUV in park and shut off the engine. Jen got out before he could say a word. Though she was right in front of the door that led into the house, she walked around the vehicle. She wasn’t going into the house.
“Jennifer?”
She turned slightly and stared at the deliciously masculine sight he made. He was lit from behind by the setting sun. He looked every inch the rough-and-tumble cowboy in Levi’s, boots, and a somewhat-battered Stetson. He looked far from the immaculate man he often presented himself as. She realized looking at him, heart racing at how beautiful he was, that she loved all of Stef. She loved the wickedly decadent artist and the doggedly loyal small-town boy. She adored the perverted Dom. He was all of those things, and she wouldn’t have him any other way.
“I love you, Stef.”
His boots suddenly became very intriguing, it seemed. He stared down at them for a moment.
Though her heart clenched at his silence, she realized something else. In the end, she couldn’t control whether or not he loved her. She couldn’t force him to see how good they could be together if he didn’t want to. She could bluster and batter him with attention-seeking behavior, but in the end, he would decide whether or not he was brave enough to take the chance. All she had control over was how much she loved him. It wasn’t such a selfish thing. Her love suddenly seemed vast and warm and giving.
“Don’t cry.”
She hadn’t been aware she was, but she felt it now. It wasn’t sad. It was simply the acknowledgement of overwhelming emotion. She loved, and suddenly she was a better person for it. She was larger than she’d been mere moments before.
“I love you.” There was no hesitation in the words. They were strong and proud. Her love was worth something. He might deny it, but she wouldn’t.
“I…that means a lot to me.” His words were oddly faltering, as though foreign to his tongue.
She wouldn’t push him, but she could help him. “Then come to the guesthouse with me. I want to play.”
His eyes flared. “You want to play? I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I’m not exactly calm and in control.”
“But you will be.” She turned and started to walk toward the guesthouse. This was how he could get his control back. This was the gift she could give him.
He caught up to her in an instant. “You’re topping from the bottom.”
The outrage in the accusation made her smile. “Isn’t that what every smart sub does?”
He frowned before a laugh huffed from his chest. “You’re going to kill me, Jennifer.”
He leaned over and gently pushed his shoulder into her midsection, picking her up in a fireman’s hold.
“Hey!” The world went topsy-turvy, and then she felt a sharp slap to her ass.
“Hush, sub. You want to play? I want to play, too. But we’re at least going to pretend I have some control. When we go into that guesthouse, you treat it like a dungeon. I’m the Master. You’re the pretty submissive who’ll do anything to please me.”
And that was different how? She didn’t argue with him, though. She was already getting hot at the thought of playing with Master Stefan. “Yes, Stef.”
“What will please me?”
She loved the way his voice went deep and rich, like dark chocolate. “My submission.”
“No clothes are allowed in my dungeon.”
He set her on her feet and pulled out the key. He quickly opened the door and allowed her to enter. Jen felt her shoes sink into the thick carpet. The door closed behind her, and when she turned, Stef was staring at her, his face as hard as granite.
“I’m waiting.”
She certainly didn’t feel the cold now. She shrugged out of her coat and handed it to him to hang. With deliberate movements, she took off her clothes. Where the afternoon had been a flurry of passion, this was measured, and a level of anticipation permeated the room. She felt almost drugged by it. She slid her hands under the waistband of her jeans and pushed them down her legs.
“Poor darling,” he said with silky sympathy. “You had to wear your plug all day. Is my slave’s ass sore?”
“I can handle it, Stefan.” She smiled at him in genuine pleasure.
There wasn’t a hint of his earlier worry and panic. He was utterly and completely focused on her now. He was in control. “Turn around and lean over the couch. It’s time to take it out. I have more interesting things to shove up your ass than a piece of plastic.”
&nb
sp; His cock made his jeans bulge. While she’d been undressing, he’d done the same. He was down to his jeans, his perfectly cut chest making her mouth water. She wondered what he looked like in his leathers. More than likely, a lot like he did now. He was an intimidating, lean presence. Jen took a deep breath to calm her racing heart and walked to the couch with what she hoped passed for grace. She placed her hands on the arm and leaned over, presenting her ass to her Master.
“Nicely done, love,” Stef purred. She shivered just a bit as his hands traced her back. “You’ve studied up. I can see that. I wonder how much you’re prepared for. I wonder how much you can take.”
“I can take almost anything except the part where you get me riled up and walk away.”
He chuckled. “Yes, I can see where that would be difficult for you. How about I promise you that I won’t ever leave you unsatisfied? But your satisfaction, when we’re playing, comes at my discretion. If I choose to torture my slave for hours on end, that is my decision.”
“I don’t know how much I like the sound of that.”
He smacked her ass, causing every nerve in her backside to come alive with a jittery pleasure. “Yes or no? We can go back to the house and have nice, vanilla sex. I’m all right with that, love. I really am. We can have vanilla sex and go to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms. Or I can tie you up, spank your sweet ass, and torture you with vibrators and other nasty toys. I can lick every inch of your body. I can devour your pussy while I shove my finger up your ass. And I can fuck that ass, love. I’m going to ream it until you don’t remember a time I wasn’t balls-deep inside you. Really, it’s your choice.”
He punctuated his speech by running his tongue down her spine almost to the place he’d promised to fuck. It was delicious and dark and dirty, and she felt her pussy clench in response.
“Oh, Stef, I want to play.” Her hands tightened on the couch because if she didn’t hold on, she would fall. He was turning her into a quivering mass of desire. “Please play with me.”
She felt him get to his knees behind her. He nipped at her butt cheeks. “I’ll play, love. Have I mentioned how pretty your asshole is?”
She laughed. It wasn’t a compliment she heard often, but Stef said it like he was talking about her hair or telling her how nice she looked in a new blouse. He left absolutely no room for shame. “Thank you.”
“I like to look at it.” He pulled her cheeks apart.
“You’re not painting my asshole, Stef.” She had her limits.
“I don’t see why not. I wouldn’t sell it, of course. But it is a work of art. I could do a whole series of paintings featuring your pink parts. I love your ass and your pussy.” His hand slid up to where she was already wet and wanting. “I definitely love your clit. I like to rub it and suck on it until it pokes out of its hood and begs for my attention.”
Jen gasped. Her clit was probably doing that right this second because he was rubbing her in the sweetest way. He pressed on her clit and lessened the pressure, running a circle around the nub before pressing again. It lit a fire that spread from the apex of her thighs, crawling along her skin.
He pulled his hand away.
“Hey, I was enjoying that.”
“And I’ll enjoy this, brat.” He pressed her down, forcing her midsection over the arm of the sofa. His hand slapped at her ass in ten quick, harsh licks, each one a shocking heat on her flesh. “Don’t talk to me that way when we’re playing.”
“Yes, Stefan.” She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out, but even as she did he was smoothing his hand across her skin, the pain morphing into pleasure.
He slid his hand between her cheeks and pulled on the plug. It slid from her, leaving her strangely empty. He almost immediately pressed a finger in.
“Tight. You’re still going to be tight, love, but you can take me.” He groaned as he pressed deep, rotating his finger. He moved in between her legs, taking up all the space. “No one’s had your ass, have they?”
“No, Stefan.” She never even dreamed she’d want anyone to take her there, but she couldn’t imagine not sharing the intimacy with Stef. He’d invaded every inch of her soul. She wanted him to have all of her body, too.
“Excellent.” He pulled his finger out and backed away. “Go into the bedroom, love. I’ll be along in a moment. There are some toys I need.”
He steadied her when she got back on her feet. Every nerve and pore in her body seemed open and aware of his presence. His lips curled in a decadent grin as he looked down at her.
“Toys? Dare I ask?” She probably didn’t want to know. He was a veritable pervertopedia when it came to toys. He knew how to use them all to great advantage.
“No office supplies this time, love. We’re in my dungeon. I have every luxury imaginable.” He suddenly frowned. “Unless my father threw it out.”
She stifled a laugh. “I doubt it.” She went on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’ll be waiting.”
On wobbly feet, she made her way to the bedroom. Callie had pointed it out when she’d given her a secret tour of the guesthouse. She’d gone into salacious detail of what went on, though at the time she hadn’t played here herself. She had the feeling Nate and Zane had probably fixed that situation. She knew that Max and Rye had an open invitation. She entered the bedroom and wondered if there was a sign-up sheet. It might be awkward if the room was already occupied.
Then she wasn’t thinking about awkwardness. Her heart raced as she looked at the newest addition to the dungeon. Stef had installed a floor-to-ceiling mirror. She stared for a moment at the reflection of herself. She was naked, but she almost didn’t recognize the woman there. She looked tousled and soft. She’d always thought of herself as gangly and too thin. She didn’t have Callie’s curves or Rachel’s petite grace, but there was an innate sexiness to the woman in the mirror that couldn’t be denied.
“Yes, love, you’re beautiful.”
Stef stood in the doorway behind her, his dark hair ruffled. He leaned on the frame and caught her gaze in the mirror.
“I never thought of myself as beautiful. I certainly never thought of myself as sexy.” She doubted she would without him. Stef brought out a version of herself she really liked. When he looked at her like he was looking now, she felt powerful and sexy even as she submitted to him.
“I can’t think of you as anything less.” He tossed several items onto the bed and took a place behind her, cupping her shoulders. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about painting you, your graceful arms and long limbs.” He let his hands move lower to cup the breasts that had always seemed too small to her, but felt like the perfect size when his hands were on them. “Your sweet breasts. You’re my ideal model. I couldn’t find a woman I want more than you.”
She let her head lean back against his chest, enjoying the picture they made. When she looked into that mirror at the couple cuddling together, it was hard to believe they ever fought at all. They looked right together, as though two pieces that had been separated had finally found their way back together.
“Kiss me, love.”
She tilted her head up and reveled in his kiss.
* * * *
Stef pressed his lips to Jennifer’s mouth and felt himself sigh. All of the previous tension of the day melted away as he let his body mold to hers. This was what he’d needed since that moment when he realized how close he’d come to losing her.
He’d walked into the room to find her staring at herself in the mirror as though seeing herself for the very first time. He wanted her to see herself as he did—a true, amazing work of art. She was gorgeous from the top of her silky, sable hair to her dainty toes. She would probably be shocked to discover he was fascinated with her toes. She painted them pinks and purples, and one day last summer, a bright, shocking orange. He loved summer because she would glide around town in sandals, her toenails a patch of art in his day.
He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips. She always tasted sweet
to him. He sometimes thought he could run his tongue over her skin a thousand times a day and never get sick of the taste.
How was he going to let her go?
A breathy cry slipped from her mouth as he moved from her lips to her neck. He let his eyes drift up so he could watch them in the mirror. She was femininity and grace to his masculine aggression. That mewling cry went straight to his cock. Every muscle in his body seemed hard and ready to pounce, but his cock was past rigid. His cock was a throbbing, insistent rock.
He nuzzled her neck. His fingers found her rigid nipples. He pinched at them, remembering how well she’d taken his spontaneously made clamps. He had better ones now. Unwilling to wait any longer, he moved back. “Get on your knees on the bed, love. Face the mirror. I want you to watch everything I do to you.”
She shivered a bit, but he didn’t think it was from the cold. He could see her pussy, and it was getting creamy and soft. She was so responsive, like an instrument only he was meant to play. She climbed on the bed and turned so she could see herself in the mirror. He reached out to the nightstand table and grabbed the first of the toys he’d brought for her, a set of lovely clover clamps. Silver and ornate, they were held together by a chain that would dangle between her breasts.
“No more paper clips?” She anticipated his next command. She pushed her shoulders back, thrusting her breasts out. The pink and brown nipple pointed directly at him.
He quickly clamped the precious nubs, adjusting the tension to ensure maximum stimulation without cutting off her circulation. He would really prefer piercings. If she belonged to him, he would try to convince her to pierce her nipples. He’d play with the rings constantly, twisting them and sucking on them. He would attach pretty chains between the two and tug on them to stimulate her.
“It’s pretty.” She smiled at him like he’d given her a diamond necklace rather than clamping her breasts for his pleasure.
“You’re prettier, love.” She was gorgeous, and it went past her lovely face and sexy body. She was beautiful down to her soul. She was kind and loving. She put others first. It was up to him to make sure she got her dreams. Even if it meant letting her go.
