by Renee Rose
“Then I carry you back into that cabin and give you a few more lessons for your research.”
My pussy squeezes. “What kind did you have in mind?”
He stops shoveling and tilts his head. “Bondage. Anal. More spanking.”
It’s like he lit a match and tossed it into a puddle of fuel. Heat explodes in my core, flames lick my inner thighs, my asshole, my nipples.
“Maybe some edging.”
“What’s that?” My voice warbles. I’m not afraid, but a tremor of nerves ripple through me.
“That’s where I keep you on the brink of an orgasm but don’t let you come.”
“That sounds… horrible!” I complain.
“Nah. When you finally do come, it’ll be so good you’ll be sobbing at my feet.”
My pussy clenches again and my face flushes red. It should sound egotistical. He’s suggesting I would be on my knees—submissive to him. But the matter-of-fact way he presents it, makes me believe it’s true. I would be on my knees, begging for more. And I’d probably love every minute of it.
“I-I don’t think you have consent for that.” I’m getting flustered, a trait I normally judge myself into oblivion for, but when Caleb’s lips quirk up, my insecurities fall away.
“We’ll see.” He returns to shoveling.
I grab the snow from the wall beside me and form a snowball to lob at him. It strikes square in his back.
He doesn’t turn around. I’m not sure he even felt it. Smothering a giggle, I ball up another one, tossing this one at the back of his head. It hits his neck.
I wince, imagining how awful it must feel to have snow fall down the back of his collar, but he only twitches a shoulder. “You must really want that spanking,” he rumbles without turning or pausing in his shoveling.
Now I giggle out loud. I ball up a snowball and pitch it at his head again. I miss, but Bear chases and tries to catch it in his mouth, coming back with snowflakes falling from his lolling tongue.
“Come on, Bear, let’s see what it takes to get the mountain man to turn around,” I tease, forming another snowball.
Caleb turns, amusement dancing on his face. “Baby, you throw another snowball, I’m gonna toss you in that snowdrift.”
I run, launching myself at his body in an attempt to tackle him into the snow. The fact that I’m not worried about hurting him, or him freaking out about having a rather big-bodied woman fly through the air at him is a testament to just how manly I think he is.
The fact that my full weight hitting him from two feet away doesn’t barrel him over is a testament to how bad-ass he truly is.
He catches me, a full laugh rumbling out of his chest as I wrap my legs around his waist and squeeze for all I’m worth. It feels amazing to be held this way. Like I weigh nothing. Like my size isn’t too big, too hefty to lift. Like he’s enjoying the close contact.
Bear jumps at Caleb’s feet, as if this is a game he wants to play, too.
“Now you’re gonna get it.” His dark eyes are intent on my lips.
“Oh yeah?” I breathe.
His smile has a trace of wickedness to it. “Definitely.” He starts trudging back to the cabin, carrying me like I’m as light as a kitten. “We weren’t going to get out of here today, anyway. I just didn’t want to break it to you yet.”
Well, that’s sweet.
“Thanks for trying.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You don’t know what punishment I have in store for you.”
Flutters of excitement zoom through me. I’m getting more sex than a newlywed here and it’s like my whole body’s coming alive. I feel sexy for the first time in my life. I want sex. I want to strut my stuff. I’m willing to open myself to a man.
And it doesn’t feel scary.
Maybe I feel safe because it’s short term. This little adventure is encapsulated by the time I’m snowed in here. And if it extends beyond that, it would only be the few more days I’m up in Pecos. After that, I go back to Albuquerque and he stays here. End of story.
Don’t think about that part.
Caleb carries me to his bed and drops me in the middle. Bear follows, prancing around Caleb’s heels until Caleb sternly tells him to leave the room and my dog immediately obeys.
“Get naked,” he orders me like he ordered my dog. He shucks his jacket, shirt and boots so I have that very fine view of his tattooed chest, ripped abs and the V of muscles heading southward into his jeans.
“Excuse me?” I have to take exception to his bossiness.
“Ten seconds, sweetheart. Or there will be consequences.”
Flutters in my tummy. Okay, that sounds exciting.
“What kind of consequences?”
He grins. “The spanking kind.”
The flutters burst into a shower of sparks and heat cascades through my limbs. Before I even make the rational decision to obey him, I’m stripping off my clothes.
Caleb opens his dresser and pulls out a long, green sock.
I lift a brow, covering my breasts—or at least my nipples—with my forearm.
He climbs over me, with no ceremony—all business—and grasps my wrists. A tug and a few quick movements and he’s tied me to his headboard with the sock.
Who knew socks had such creative uses?
I tug. I can probably slip out of it, but I don’t want to. I love all the responsibility for this interlude lying squarely on his shoulders. Like the other times—he’s showing me something. I don’t have to perform, compete or do. My insecurities don’t crop up or creep in. In fact, they all slip away because he makes me feel beautiful and desirable.
“Too bad,” Caleb mutters.
“Too bad, what?”
“I was looking forward to spanking that luscious ass of yours. Guess I’ll just have to settle for fucking it.”
My anus contracts in response. “Um… wait. I’m not sure—”
“You’re not, but I am.” He uses his brusque, no-nonsense voice, but I’m almost certain if I really didn’t want this, he’d stop in a heartbeat. Caleb is a gentleman at heart. I’m sure of that.
Caleb
I am a horny motherfucker. All I can think about is all the variety of ways I want to pound into this beautiful human. She’s lying on her back, her arms drawn up and bound, which makes her big, delicious tits part and lift. Her silky red hair is spread like a fan around her head. Her pussy is untrimmed, which is sexy as hell to me, because I want to be the guy who shaves it. I have this fantasy of putting her in the bath and scraping her clean of hair everywhere below her chin.
I want to show her every position in the playbook. Make sure her education with me is as thorough as it can be and she loves every second of it.
And right now that means I need lube. Lots of it, because I don’t want her to be in pain when she takes my giant bear cock up the ass.
“Don’t move,” I tell her, which makes her snort since she can’t anyway. “I’ll be right back.”
I grab some olive oil from the kitchen and wash my hands.
When I come back, I have to stop in the doorway and breathe deep to shove back the desire to give her a mating bite.
She’s not a shifter. And I’m not claiming her.
My bear backs down because, yeah. He’s as horny as I am.
Her strawberries and ice cream scent mingles with her feminine arousal, filling the room like the sweetest perfume.
“Spread your knees, baby.” My voice comes out two octaves deeper than usual. I’m still in the doorway because I want to be sure I have the bear under control before I touch her.
When she drags her lower lip through her pretty white teeth and butterflies her knees, I almost keel over from the sudden throb of my cock.
“Fuck.” I stalk over to her and drop the olive oil bottle beside her so I can hook both hands under her thighs and feast between her legs.
She shrieks the moment my tongue hits her clit and then writhes against my face, making the cutest sounds as I eat her. I take my tim
e, getting her good and swollen, her natural juices dripping onto my tongue.
When she’s babbling my name urgently, I finally take a break and open the olive oil bottle.
“Ohhh, Caleb. Oh boy. I don’t know…”
“You don’t. But I do,” I tell her. I dribble some oil onto my fingers. “Your job is to relax and take it. Mine is to make sure you enjoy it. Understand?” I rub my oiled finger over her anus, lubing it up good before I apply a little pressure. The trick is to wait a moment. There’s an initial puckering and then the ring of muscles relax. I wait until they do and push in, massaging all around to lube inside.
While she’s still getting used to the intrusion, I return my mouth to her pussy, treating her to the most lavish tongue-lashing I can concoct.
My girl loves it.
She moans and thrashes, her thighs crashing around my head, her feet cupping my waist like she’s trying to push me off, but every time I come up for air, she pulls me back in.
I add a second finger, work to stretch her back hole, get her ready for my cock.
She moans, a needy, keening cry.
“You like having your ass fucked, don’t you?”
“Jesus, Caleb. Jesus. You are so… dirty. Ohmygod. I need you to fuck me so badly.”
I chuckle at how far we’ve come in such a short time.
I rub her clit with my thumb while fucking her ass, lifting my face to drink in the view. “You ready for your ass fucking?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know. Maybe. I’m scared.”
“Aw, baby. You don’t have to be scared.” I slide my fingers out of her ass and untie my sock holding her wrists. “Roll over and put that pillow under your hips.” I lift my chin toward the pillow under her head.
She complies immediately, which tells me her fears aren’t holding her back from giving up her anal virginity.
I dribble more olive oil into the crack of her ass and push her pale cheeks wide. “You have the best ass,” I tell her. It’s true. I’m definitely an ass man and hers is ample.
“I have a big ass,” she says wryly.
I smack her cheek, and a red handprint blooms. “You’d better love the hell out of this ass.” I slap the other cheek.
“Or what?” she laughs. “You’ll spank it? I’m not sure that’s showing it the love.”
“Oh it is.” I laugh, too. I deliver a flurry of stinging smacks, laying down a pretty blush on her pale skin. “It’s definitely a show of appreciation.”
She clenches her buttocks and wriggles, giggling the whole time.
“Put your hand between your legs,” I tell her.
“What?”
I smack her ass hard. “Now, Doctor. When I give you an order, I expect you to follow it.” The fresh scent of her arousal fills my nostrils, telling me I haven’t gone too far. She enjoys my dominance.
Good, because I sure as hell like taking charge. I haven’t taken charge of anything in three years—including my own life. I wouldn’t think something so simple as showing a hot genius the benefits of sex would be the cure-all, but I sure as hell feel good.
She lifts her hips and slips her hand beneath her, curling her fingers into her juicy sex.
“Good girl. Now you keep working that pussy while I enjoy this ass.”
She lets out a tiny mewl, but I see her fingers working, rubbing her swollen clit, sliding in her entrance. I free my erection and give my dick a rough yank. Fates, I’m hard for her. I pull her cheeks apart and line the head of my cock up with her back hole.
“Deep breath,” I coach as I apply a little pressure.
She takes a giant inhale, like she’s about to go underwater.
I chuckle. “Blow it out, baby.” I gently press forward, waiting for her sphincter muscles to relax and allow me in. “Take me, Miranda. Work that pussy and let me in.”
She relaxes more and I ease in. One inch, another.
Miranda vocalizes—one long vowel tone that starts and stops and starts again. I grind my teeth at the effort of holding back. Sweat gathers at my hairline but I go slow, holding my weight on my arms as I fill her and retreat.
There’s something so dominant about taking her ass. It’s a claiming of sorts, even though I have no right to stake any claim. No desire to, either.
Except that’s a lie. The idea of me training Miranda so she’ll find another man and demand good sex should satisfy me, but it doesn’t. It makes me want to follow her back to Albuquerque and rip the imaginary male’s dick off.
I fuck her faster, my breath coming in pants.
Her vowel sounds shorten, voice raises.
My loins slap her ass as I plow deeper, harder. Miranda works her fingers between her legs frantically.
My balls draw up tight, heat spikes at the base of my spine. I come with a shout and a shudder.
Miranda cries out and tightens her anus around my cock.
I growl at the tight squeeze. Eventually she loosens, the muscles in her back softening, her breath slowing. I kiss her shoulder before I realize how tender the gesture is.
That we’re just having sex.
But it’s too late to take it back. I ease out and go to the bathroom to clean up and bring her a washcloth.
No more kisses. No cuddles. I need to watch myself. My bear’s acting like I found myself a new mate, and that’s not the case at all.
I will never re-mate. Especially not with a human.
Chapter 10
Miranda
Three days locked in a cabin with a wild mountain man.
Three days, a wild mountain man and the hottest sex imaginable.
That’s something I couldn’t have predicted for this research trip. But every good thing has an end, and this bizarre chapter—or aside—is over.
After my sex education yesterday, we hung out for a while. I pulled out my tablet and we watched The Voice together. We slept in separate bedrooms again.
Today the sun’s melted the snow enough for Caleb to get his truck out, and he says he should be able to drive me back to the research cabin.
I can’t figure out how to arrange my thoughts or feelings as we leave. It’s like I’m having an out-of-body experience, watching it all happen without context or reference.
As we drive back, I try to pretend I’m not a changed woman, like he didn’t just rock my world with crazy rough sex and make me fall in love with a hurting but kind soul hiding behind the gruff exterior.
“Well, thanks,” I murmur when the pickup truck pulls up behind my Subaru, which is completely covered in snow. “For everything.”
Caleb cuts the engine and opens his door, like he’s going to come in with me.
Okay, I didn’t expect that, but we haven’t really defined what happens next.
Bear barrels past Caleb, leaping out and rushing off to sniff things. Caleb puts his nose in the air and sniffs, too, eyes scanning the perimeter of the cabin.
“What?”
“Just making sure no one’s been around here.”
My mouth falls open in surprise, but I look, too. There aren’t any footprints in the snow—everything appears undisturbed.
“Because of the missing women?”
He gives a single, curt nod. His brows are down, mouth drawn up tight. This is the man I first met. Unsmiling. Serious. Taciturn.
I wonder if he thinks there’s some connection between the missing women and his wife’s death. Surely not.
“I don’t like you staying here alone.” Somehow the sentiment sounds so different coming from him than it did from the convenience store guy. So much more personal. His concern for me fills my chest like liquid warmth.
“Thanks, but we’ll be okay.” I look down at Bear.
“I don’t suppose there’s a landline in that hut.”
“No.” I’d noticed he doesn’t have a landline either. I guess he likes being permanently disconnected.
“If anyone shows up here for any reason, I want you to get in your car and drive to my cabin. Understand?”
>
It’s on the tip of my tongue to argue, but Caleb looks so grumpy, I just nod. “Okay, thanks.”
His mouth tightens even more, the lines between his brows deepen.
I don’t know how I pictured our goodbye going—a hug, a handshake. A discussion on why we won’t exchange numbers for further contact. But it wasn’t this.
Caleb stalks back to his truck, the grouchy mountain man fully returned. He gets in and starts the engine, still surveying the research cabin with a frown.
And that’s it.
He drives away.
No hug, kiss or handshake. No thanks for the memories. Not even a nice to meet you.
I realize as he’s driving away I should have stopped him—to thank him for saving my life. And for changing my mind about sex. It even occurs to me to run after the truck and wave it down.
But I don’t.
I don’t move.
My boots stay rooted to the snow and I just watch the truck drive away, somehow seeming as prickly as its owner.
Well, damn.
I didn’t expect to feel so much loss.
As the truck disappears down the road, it’s like it took one of my organs with it. Some vital thing from the center of my chest. The emptiness feels near fatal.
Don’t be so dramatic—it was just sex.
It was just. Sex.
Tears prick my eyes. I didn’t want more. I didn’t even want sex. But now that I’ve experienced it Caleb-style—now that I’ve experienced Caleb—my solitary existence with Bear feels so shallow.
What am I doing? Working my ass off to prove myself to a bunch of men who will never see me as their equal because I have a pair of tits? And will my efforts ever be enough? Will I ever receive the recognition I desire? Or is there something more to life?
I look around me at the snow sparkling on the pine trees, at my feet. The air is crisp and fresh. The smell of the forest creates a physiological change in me. My breath slows. Muscles relax. Awareness expands out beyond the tiny sphere of my body. This forest, this mountain, this beautiful nature is the meaning behind all my work.
