by Zara Chase
Night. X
Darcy had just finished brushing her teeth when the phone rang for real. Her heart flipped because she knew who it would be. It was the point of no return. Darcy had a decision to make.
“Yes,” she said curtly, sitting on the edge of her lumpy bed as she took the call.
“What’s happening?” a masculine voice asked. “I expected to hear from you before now.”
“How’s Chloe?”
“She asleep.”
“Is she all right? When can I see her?”
“She’s fine, and you can see her as much as you like once you’ve completed your assignment.” The voice was flat, hard and impatient, speaking in heavily accented English. “Now, what news?”
“Huskies,” she replied, feeling like a first-class fink. “They are going to extend their husky sledge runs through the upper pistes.”
“Shit!” A long silence. “Anything else?”
“Isn’t that enough for a first day?”
“Not nearly. I need to know everything they intend to do.”
“Not until I’ve seen Chloe.”
“Call me tomorrow evening with more information, then I’ll decide if you can see the child.”
“You won’t get away with this, you know.”
His humorless chuckle that sent chills down her spine. “I think you’ll find I can get away with anything I damned well like.”
A virulent rage surged through Darcy at the man’s arrogance, his sheer audacity, his unshakeable belief that money and power made him untouchable. Given that he’d resorted to using a small child to bend her to his will meant he was either desperate or completely above the law.
Or both.
“One of the prospective building areas in this valley has some rare eagles nesting there. It ought to be a conservation site.”
“Which area?” Darcy named it. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Right, your mother wants to speak to you.”
Darcy didn’t want to speak to her, and wouldn’t, but for the fact that she was desperate to know how Chloe was.
“Darcy?” Her mother’s voice sounded weak and feeble, just like the woman herself. “How are you?”
“How the fuck do you think?” She heard a sharp intake of breath echo down the line. Her mother hated crude language. Tough shit! She should have thought about that before hooking up with a crude and violent man. “How’s Chloe?”
“She’s absolutely fine, darling. We’re having great fun.”
That was all Darcy needed to know. Not that her mother was likely to tell her if there was anything wrong with Chloe, and the child herself was too young to talk to her mother and reassure her. Still, Darcy reasoned that even her mother and her evil partner wouldn’t go so far as to harm a toddler. Besides, Darcy wouldn’t give them any more information until she checked on her for herself, and that was that. What she had given away wasn’t that important, was it? Her head tried to reassure her, but her conscience was having none of it. She had betrayed Ross in the worst possible way.
“Tell him he will get nothing more from me until I see Chloe,” she said curtly. “Text me a place and time.”
Darcy cut the connection, climbed into bed, pulled the covers up to her ears, and cried herself to sleep.
Chapter Eleven
Fatigue, sexual gratification, the exhausting events of the day—perhaps a combination of all three?—overcame Darcy’s angst, and she slept surprisingly soundly. She was awoken at seven thirty by an incoming text. Ross, she thought, sitting up and yawning, but smiling in spite of herself. She pushed the hair out of her eyes and reached for her phone.
Morning, babe. Sleep well? I missed you.
Darcy’s smile widened. A delicious shiver wracked her body, simply because she was the first person he’d thought of when he awoke. Her pleasure turned to almost unbearable pain when she recalled she had already broken his trust, and it could only be a matter of time before he knew it.
Morning, she sent back. I slept very well, thanks. Who are you again?
Hussy! Just wait until I get you across my knee.
Yes, Master.
Glad to see some respect going on there. Now get some breakfast inside you and I’ll see you soon. Dress warmly. It’s cold out there. X
See you soon. X
Darcy managed fruit and yogurt, which probably wasn’t substantial enough, but she still had to struggle to get it past the near-permanent lump that had taken up residence in her throat. Chloe ought to be with her. She wondered if her daughter was awake yet, but pushed thoughts of her aside. If she dwelt upon Chloe, or feelings for Ross that were threatening to run out of control, she would never get through the day.
“One problem at a time,” she muttered as she pulled on her thermal underwear, and then donned warm ski clothing over it.
Half an hour later, she was whisked up the mountain in the cable car, loaded down with her skis and her camera gear. Fiona was already at her desk, doing her gatekeeper bit, when Darcy entered the ski school. She looked up from her computer, her expression frostier than the weather.
“Morning,” Darcy said, refusing to let the woman’s attitude get to her. She deserved to be treated like the enemy, because that’s what she was.
“Ross has got someone with him,” Fiona replied, nodding toward his closed door. “Here’s a list of the classes and where they start from. He asked me to give it to you.” She returned her attention to her computer screen. “Don’t let me keep you.”
“You’re not. Classes don’t start for a half an hour yet, and I could use a coffee.”
“The kitchen’s through there.” Fiona pointed over her shoulder.
“Would you like one?”
“No thanks. Ross and I have already had ours.”
Darcy shrugged, pushed her way through the kitchen door, and was cheered to see Ward there.
“Morning, darlin’.” His smile was warm, his attitude diametrically opposed to Fiona’s, and Darcy was grateful for a friendly face. “How you doin’?”
Darcy blushed, thinking of the circumstances under which they’d last met. It didn’t seem to bother Ward, but then he was as big an exhibitionist as Ross. Darcy wondered if she would ever get to treat sex as casually as they did. Not that she’d get the chance to find out, she realized with a sinking heart. Her days here were definitely numbered.
“Morning,” she replied. “I’m good, thanks, but cold.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Can I get you some coffee?” she asked, heading for the credenza.
“It’s already made. Help yourself.”
“Fiona implied it was her private stash.”
“Oh, don’t worry about her. She’s a tad overprotective, that’s all.”
“A tad?” Darcy lifted both brows as she poured coffee. “I don’t think she likes me.”
“Don’t let it worry you, darlin’. She doesn’t like any woman under the age of fifty who as much as looks at Ross for too long.”
“Yeah, I got that part.”
Other instructors joined them and the conversation became more general. Each time the door opened, she expected it to be Ross, and her heart leapt in anticipation. But it never was. Presumably his meeting was dragging on. Strange he hadn’t mentioned it, but then again, they had agreed to keep it low key up here and he didn’t have to clear his agenda with her.
She reluctantly left the warmth of the office along with the rest of the instructors, donned her skis, and headed off to do what she was being paid to do. The morning passed quickly. The weather was frigid, but the sky was crystal clear, and everyone appeared to be having fun. She even picked up a couple of private assignments for the afternoons—but not that particular afternoon. Darcy squared her shoulders, determination strengthening her resolve. She was tired of being threatened and bullied. If she didn’t get word that Chloe would be brought to see her, then she would go to her daughter, and if her activities aroused suspicion then Garcia had no one to blame but himself.
She was about to head back down to the village at the end of the morning session when her phone pinged. It was a text from Ross.
Missing you. Have lunch with me. Meet me in the kitchen in the ski school. The coast is clear!
Darcy smiled, taking that to mean Fiona was at lunch herself. She texted back to say she was on her way.
“Hey, there you are.”
Ross was in the kitchen alone. Presumably all the instructors ate with their classes, or headed for the cafeteria. His smile was both enticing and heated. No question what was on his mind.
“Hi, yourself. I thought you were avoiding me.”
He laughed. “Nah, I had to meet with some guys. There’s a big hoo-hah going on with some Russians who might invest in Nevella.”
“Oh, what’s that all about?”
“Don’t waste precious time talking about that. Come here and say hello properly.”
He opened his arms and Darcy hurtled herself into them. Anyone might walk in on them, but what the hell? She was still wearing thick outdoor clothing, but Ross was in his usual shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots. She could feel the muscles in his chest flexing and contracting as she leaned against him, and reveled in how safe she felt in the circle of his arms. How long had it been since Darcy had been able to lean on anyone else? A small part of her brain warned her not to get used to the feeling, but just for now, she chose to ignore the voice of reason. Live for the moment, she told herself. Her problems weren’t going anywhere, but Ross damned soon would be.
“Come on,” he said brusquely. “Let’s take this somewhere more private.”
“Take what?”
“Change of plan, babe. It’s time for your second lesson. I’ve been planning it all morning. It can’t wait until tonight.”
“Oh, I see.” A tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. So he hadn’t forgotten about her, and was desperate to get at her. That knowledge was empowering.
He led her through a doorway at the back of the kitchen, up a flight of wooden stairs, and into a windowless box of a storeroom, with low, sloping ceilings. Darcy could just stand upright without hitting her head. Ross had to stoop. But at least the room had the advantage of being warm. And private. There was an old couch almost free of cardboard boxes and old office junk, which was more than could be said for the rest of the place. Ross locked the door behind them and cleared the bits and pieces from the couch, at which point his whole demeanor changed.
“Stand over there and take your jacket off.”
His tone was rife with authority—his Dom voice—and Darcy found it impossible not to comply. She did as he asked, then remembered to lower her eyes, waiting for his next instruction.
“Pull down your salopettes and kneel on the rug, darlin’. Rest your head and arms on the edge of the couch and let me at that ass.”
Excitement ricocheted through Darcy at this unexpected turn of events, and she didn’t hesitate to do as he asked.
“You know something,” he said, kneeling behind her when she was in position and placing a large, warm hand on her ass, still covered by her flimsy panties. Without warning he brought his hand down hard against her almost bare flesh, making her flinch. The sound was loud, ringing around the space like a gunshot, echoing the dark desire that spiraled through Darcy’s soul. “This backside has a lot to answer for. I couldn’t sleep last night for thinking about the things I intend to do to it.”
Darcy wasn’t sure if she was permitted to speak, and so bit her lip and remained silent. His words were both a turn-on and a torture. Her butt stung where he’d slapped her, but the feeling was pleasurable, and she hoped he would repeat the process.
“Did you like that, Darcy?”
“Yes, Master, I did.”
“Would you like some more punishment?”
“Yes, please.”
“Then you’d best ask me nicely.”
“Please, Sir, spank me some more. I deserve to be punished.” You have no idea how much I deserve it.
“I have a ruler here,” he told her. “I’m going to hit you with it. Hard. Are you ready?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“I want to gag you. Will you let me do that, sugar?”
“Yes, Sir, if it would please you.”
“You please me, darlin’. More than you could possibly know.” She felt his hair flop against her buttocks as he bent his head and nipped at them, painfully hard. “Now keep still and take your punishment like a good girl.”
He produced something—a kerchief she thought it was—told her to open her mouth, and then tied it securely in place.
“There, you look damned hot, half-dressed and gagged. Wish we’d thought to bring your camera up here.”
He moved into her line of vision. His jeans were unfastened and his huge cock had sprung free of his fly to stand rigidly to attention. Oh my! Is that all for me? He moved behind her again and, without telling her to expect it, brought the ruler sharply down across her backside. Her cry was absorbed by the gag and no sound emerged. He repeated the process, varying the area he struck each time. She counted twelve strokes before the ruler clattered to the floor, and Ross pushed himself into her harshly from behind.
“That’s one of the first things I’m gonna do to you when I get you in the dungeon,” he said, his voice think and urgent.
His hand slid beneath her top and pinched her nipples through the fabric of her bra. Darcy discovered one of the benefits of being gagged was that she could express herself as loudly as she liked because virtually no sound emerged.
“Yeah, you like that, don’t you, sugar? You love just about every damned thing I do to you, because you’re a sexy little witch who can never get enough. Nod if I’ve got it right.”
Darcy nodded vigorously. She didn’t want to risk him stopping, and was so turned on right now she wouldn’t have cared if all the ski instructors were lined up watching the two of them in action. Did that mean she was already thinking in terms of the dungeon? That didn’t seem like her, but then nothing she did when she was with Ross reminded her of the staid Darcy of old. This was sizzling hot. It was fun, it was kinky, it was literally painfully erotic, and she loved every minute of it.
His cock filled her completely, brushing against the sensitive walls of her cunt, driving her increasingly closer to the edge. She thrust back against him, exquisite shards of the most intense sensation assailing her from all angles, especially when he abandoned her tits, wrapped her ponytail around his hand and yanked hard, pulling her head back as far as it would go. At the same time he drove himself into her and acute desire detonated through her system.
Helpless against the raging force of her need, she wanted to warn him she was teetering on the brink, her orgasm building and spreading through her core at warp speed. It would be impossible to hold it back for much longer. As she couldn’t talk through the gag, she got her point across by increasing the strength of her backward motions. She was jolted by a series of disturbing thrills as she encouraged him to bury himself as deep inside her as he could get. It would never be deep enough for Darcy to have…well, her fill of him. He was like an illicit drug, compelling because the effect wouldn’t be hers to enjoy for long.
Her active participation didn’t seem to please him. He grunted, landing another sharp slap against her buttocks when he next withdrew.
“Leave all the work to me, sugar. I’m in charge.”
Darcy moaned, and shook her head.
“Don’t argue with me, babe, or it will be the worse for you. I might have to spank you with something even harsher later, just to teach you a lesson.” He chuckled. “But something tells me you’d enjoy that.”
Darcy tried, she really tried, to keep a lid on her blooming orgasm, but she couldn’t manage it. Fire lanced through her veins, sizzling hot, firing her blood, impossible to keep in check. Passions stirred to the point of madness, she let out a series of guttural moans around her gag and exploded, clenching his glorious cock with every muscle
in her pussy.
“Naughty!” But there was a smile in his voice. “Now, let’s see if there’s more where that came from.”
Incredibly, he was still rock solid inside of her. Her orgasm hadn’t triggered his. Such control! She was in awe. He continued to work her sensitized cunt with harsh, assured thrusts, occasionally giving her butt a slap when he withdrew. The long fingers on one of his hands reached beneath her and played with her engorged clit, causing her head to spin and for her to bite the gag in her excitement. The aftershock of her first orgasm was still fragmenting her senses, but she could feel another building, chasing directly on the tail of the first. Nothing could have prepared her for such feelings of surging, heady passion, and she gave in to them, not caring if it was against the rules. Not caring about anything except the bliss that hovered tantalizingly just out of reach.
“No bra when you come to work tomorrow.” Ross’s breathing was now labored but his voice still retained its authoritative edge. “I want to think of you out there, nipples all solid beneath your top as you take pictures of the punters. You’d be surprised how many places there are up and down these pistes where it’s possible to get it on, and I know them all. I might just have to surprise you.”
Ross upped the pace, and Darcy was lost. With his fingers working her clit, and his cock assaulting her cunt, she didn’t stand a chance of playing him at his own game. Her second orgasm was less intense, but far deeper, and ultimately more satisfying. It surged from her core and spread through every inch of her body. Carried on a scorching tide of inflamed blood, it reached parts of her she hadn’t previously been consciously aware of. The experience brought her truly alive, tumbling her headlong in love with this gorgeous, domineering, inventive yet insatiable god.
A god who could never be hers.
He actually laughed, then groaned as she felt his cock expand inside her. He slapped her butt hard as he shot his load, his penis pulsating deep inside of her until he had drained his balls dry and had nothing left to offer her.
He withdrew immediately, placed a kiss on each of her buttocks, and released her gag.
