Own Me, My Love

by Reese Gabriel

  "I know what you're doing,” she rasped. “You're trying to drive us crazy, aren't you?"

  "Actually,” he offered wryly. “I'm already well on the way."

  In more ways than one, he might well have added.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Dev drove them up the long drive, all the way to an old red barn, the faded siding lit up in the pale moonlight. Elisia wanted to come so bad she could cry. Who'd have known not being able to masturbate would be more of a turn on than actually doing it? With every little bump in the road, her poor pussy bounced on the vinyl seat. She was so wide open, totally exposed. And yet he wouldn't do a thing. Not with her or to her.

  "Make your call,” he said, putting the truck in park.

  Her fingers trembled as she hit speed dial. “Bon? I'm here."

  "Where is here?” Her friend wanted to know, justifiably confused. “What on earth is going on? I've been so worried since you called. You sounded like you were kidnapped."

  "No, I'm on a ... kind of date. I needed to check in with someone. Look, I'll explain it all tomorrow, okay?"

  "All right,” conceded her childhood companion, as close as any sister. “But you better make it good. I assume this has to do with the husband hunting?"

  Elisia sucked in her lower lip. Just where did Dev stand in the scheme of things? Would she still try and go through with marrying him after the kind of intense experiences she was having? What if this were too much? What if having him in her life even one more day meant giving up more than she'd intended?

  The whole point of this was to give her the freedom she deserved. To be her own person, just like her brothers, not dependant on a man to keep her fortunes. They'd treated her like a child long enough and whatever it took; she would be a woman. On her own two feet.

  First she had to get through this night, though. And the very real feelings and desires this man was stirring in her. Allowing him to take her hand, she climbed down from the cab.

  "Take off your boots,” he bid her.

  She leaned on him, baring her small feet, one by one. The grass was cool and damp on her soles. “The shirt next?” She wondered aloud.

  "Let me.” His fingers, calloused from years of rope work and gripping the leather of saddles and the horns of bulls, turned nimble and quick as he gently undid each button. The wonder in his eyes, the honest awe as he parted the halves of the blouse put a lump in her throat. All these years she'd clamored for praise and here was a man making her heart sing; without saying a word.

  Dev helped shrug it down over her shoulders and then reached behind her to unclasp her bra. Elisia's young heart thumped in her chest, like a rabbit's as she prepared to have her breasts examined ... explored.

  He sighed as the cups fell away, soft as petals. The white globes of her breasts, healthy and full, shone in the moonlight.

  One by one, he grasped them. “Say my name."

  "Dev,” she recited. Then, more fully, “Max Develin."

  He brushed her hair back behind her ears. It was wild now, like loose straw torn from a bale. “I don't believe anyone's ever said it like that."

  "Tell me again,” she asked, moist eyed. “What you want to do to me."

  He spoke once more of the wonders awaiting her inside the barn, the leather collar, the whip, the bondage, until finally she could no longer stand of her own accord. Falling against him, she felt him lift her, light as a feather.

  Dev carried her like this, cradled in his arms. When he got to the door, he slung her over his shoulder and slid the door open with his free hand. Placing her standing in the very center, on a loose pile of hay, he went to light a pair of lanterns at either end.

  Long, lively shadows cut their way across the interior, born of the ancient rafters, made of dry black wood. The barn smelled of must and old tobacco. On the walls were racks and shelves loaded with tack. There were bridles, bits, saddles and riding crops, too. She cringed at the sight of these last devices.

  Dev chose one, of medium length braided black leather, and promptly tested it in the air, delivering quick slashes, back and forth. She thought of it, hitting her instead. Tingles went up and down her spine, wicked and sexual.

  He found the collar on one of the shelves. It resembled a dog collar, with spikes. Attached was a long chain. A leash to be precise.

  Wrapping it loosely about his neck, Dev grabbed a much longer chain attached to a pair of leather cuffs. These he brought to her, or rather to the rafter over her head. There was a long steel cable hanging down from it with a hook at the end. He affixed this to the chain and then put the cuffs on her wrists.

  With a bit of adjustment he managed to secure her, on tiptoes, just as he'd said he would.

  Elisia's stretched body was like a live nerve. Every bit of her craved and yet dreaded to be touched. She was half afraid that even an incidental touch might bring her again to the point of orgasm.

  And yet he hadn't even begun with the real bondage.

  Dev held out the collar. “Before we go any further—I want you to have a phrase, a safe phrase that will put a stop to whatever we're doing. Just say “trust fund” and I'll back off. Otherwise, I keep going. Understand?"

  She nodded, though she couldn't help smiling at his choice.

  The collar fit snugly. The leather was hard, but supple. Smooth, sexy, and above all ... strict. Dev let the leash depend between her breasts. She whimpered as the chain touched her belly, settling itself between her legs.

  I'm a prisoner, she thought. A slave ... at least for pretend.

  "Are you ready to be whipped?” He inquired, casually flicking her nipples, one by one.

  "Oh, god,” she groaned. “I ... no ... I mean..."

  Elisia couldn't think straight. She wanted to go on, she wanted to discover this dark world of Dev's. But she felt so lost, so unsure.

  He pinched her nipple, focusing her. “I asked you a question."

  "No,” she winced. “I'm not ready."

  "Good,” he approved, stroking her pussy. “At least you're honest."

  "What's it ... like?” She gasped.

  "Like sunrise and sunset. Fireworks. Apple pie. Sex. Whatever you want it to be. The only thing I know is, it makes me hard. Seeing a woman writhe under the lash. It makes me harder than anything in the world."

  "Oh, Dev,” she sighed. “I want to writhe for you."

  He put the crop to her lips, letting her kiss the side of it. “I know this may seem like a diversion. But it's a very intimate thing, Elisia. It changes the relationship. The sex, all of it."

  "Yes,” Elisia said, though all she really knew was that the sound of this man's voice, his face, and his strength had become the center of her world. Did it matter what he said now?

  "This is about possession, Elisia, and surrender. When we're done, I'll unchain you, and from then on when I tell you to do things, you'll do them. We can still fight six ways from Sunday, but there will be an unspoken bond of obedience."

  He flicked her nipples again, this time with the whip. “I won't let you run wild,” he promised. “Marrying strangers is a damned fool thing to do. I'm going to run herd on you, until your life is fixed."

  Elisia felt a surge of rebellion. “You don't have the right. It's my life."

  He struck her across the thigh. “I'm claiming the right, Cowgirl, on account of the fact that you're out of control. If and when you get your act together, I'll give you back your freedom."

  "I hate you,” she cried. “You tricked me."

  Dev went for her clitoris. “You tricked yourself. The moment you tried to have it all."

  She moaned against her will. “Do it,” she heard herself beg. “Fuck me ... whip me..."

  Dev obliged, letting loose with the crop, clean, artful blows across her belly, red and pink brushes across the canvas of her virgin skin, burgeoning pain, stinging blossoms, pains within pains, and through it all the humiliation of what was being done to her.

  Punishment. A beating ... like she was an animal.<
br />
  He moved around to her ass, peppering it in due course. She twisted and twitched, making a sight of herself, she was sure.

  "Have you any idea?” He paused to kiss her. “How long it's been since I've felt this good?"

  "I'm glad I could make you so happy,” she spat.

  He took her pulse, measuring the throbbing of her cunt. “You're not exactly unhappy,” he winked.

  Elisia tried to impale herself, but he pulled back. “I want to try the bullwhip."

  "The ... what?” She'd seen these on the ranch. It was a long, powerful snake-like device that cracked the very molecules of the air.

  "Don't worry, I have a little experience. I'm after little kisses on your fair person, not out and out mayhem."

  Dev handled the whip lovingly; the way cowboys do all the tools of their trade. She'd no doubt he was an expert, though whether that should make her feel better or not, she wasn't sure.

  He began between her legs, tucking the coils neatly into her slit with a gentle hand. “Feel that?"

  How could she not? Her small fists clenched and unclenched. Her toes wriggled against the prickling hay. The night airbrushed her body. She'd never been more alive in her life.

  "You're a conniving bastard, Max Develin."

  He gave her an angled smile. “Not a very endearing proposal; or isn't that offer still on the table?"

  "You tell me. You're the self-proclaimed boss of my life."

  He rubbed the whip, ever so slightly, just enough to put her into a sexual frenzy. “You're still free to leave at any time,” he reminded.

  "As if I could..."

  He kissed her. “So we're stuck with each other."

  "It ... appears that way.” Elisia was panting. “Damn it, Dev, let me come."

  "No.” He circled behind her, trailing the snake of the floor of the barn.

  Elisia winced, bracing herself.

  The first blow came around her midsection, the tip somehow managing to find her belly button. It was like a finger, stern, electric.

  The second caught her in the crack of her ass.

  "No more,” she pleaded, the reality of her situation sinking in. “I'll do anything you say."

  "That's the whole point of this,” he reminded.

  "But I learned my lesson."

  Dev whipped her back, between the shoulder blades. It brought tears to her eyes, but still it was not pure pain, but a devilish mix, a cauldron that burned every part of her flesh, including her breasts and pussy.

  Another across the thighs, light and quick, and then a deeper slash that somehow found the side of her left breast. Elisia hung her head, her hair hanging like a damp mop. Sweat dripped from her body. She ached from every pore.

  "You'll please me,” he told her, his hand brushing her cheek. “You'll go to your knees as soon as I release you."

  Elisia blinked. Where had he come from? A moment ago he'd been behind her. “I will,” she croaked.

  Dev undid the cuffs, helping her to her knees. She wrapped her arms lovingly, groggily about his midsection. The pain had dulled, to a glowing throb. His hands wrapped in her hair as he moved her into place. His pants had magically disappeared, along with the rest of his clothes. Only his cock presented itself, proud and stiff and ready.

  Elisia kissed it, and then licked it. His words ran through her mind, snapping like the whip through every synapse.

  This is about possession, Elisia, and surrender. When we're done, I'll unchain you, and from then on when I tell you to do things, you'll do them.

  Obedience, he'd said. And with it the inevitable possibility of punishment. If ever there was a better circumstance for a woman to take a man in her mouth...

  "Mmm,” he sighed. “That's what I've been waiting for. That and every other blessed thing with you. You know how much I wanted you the minute I laid eyes on you? Hell, everybody in the place did. But there's nothing worse than a beautiful woman who knows she's beautiful."

  Elisia licked the length of him, up and down, covering every inch, top and bottom with a fine sheen. She wanted to please him so very much, not because he was making such a show of ordering her, but because underneath she had this sense he really cared.

  "It's a burden, Cowgirl, I know it is. Not being vain. When you look like you do and have every privilege in the world. And I think deep down you're afraid of being like the rest of them. The shallow, rich assholes of the world. But you're different. Trust me, I've been around."

  She showed her trust by taking him to the back of her throat. He stroked her head in appreciation. She hoped he would come this way, letting her swallow his emission.

  But Max Develin wasn't that sort of man. He liked equality and balance. You had to if you were going to hold your seat on a wild bucking pony or a two thousand pound raging bull.

  "I want you on all fours, Kiddo. Can you do that? Are you hurting?"

  She answered with her body, putting herself down in the hay right where he wanted her. Use me was her answer, spoken louder than words.

  "Attagirl.” Dev mounted her with flattering enthusiasm, making her feel like the most desirable filly in the world.

  It occurred to her now, maybe she'd been trying so hard and so stridently to trumpet her beauty because deep down she wasn't sure at all.

  That was a pretty sobering realization. As was the fact that she was about to blurt out something she'd never said in her life. Not to anyone.

  "Dev ... Dev..."

  "What is it, Cowgirl?” His cock rocked her back and forth, his teeth half sunk into her shoulder.

  "I ... I love you."

  Dev made a deep, blood curdling sound. He was flush against her, his every muscle taut. He was shaking, convulsing and yet at the same time he was rock still. Semen was coming out of him, his belly vibrating ... she'd never had a man react this way.

  Like demons coming out, like liquid, crystal birth fluid and bursting thunderstorms, rolling thunder across an unknown valley.

  The thunder of a thousand wild horses, a herd of mavericks, never touched by human hands.

  She thought he must love her, too, because it was not every day a man climaxed like that, nor did he do so with just anyone.

  Dev fell, rolling to his back. He was muttering something, calling her to him. She crawled, her breasts hanging in his face.

  "The collar,” he was saying.

  His hands were reaching up. He wanted to take it off. She wasn't sure if this was good or bad. “Go,” he said, unbuckling the black leather and tossing it aside. “It's ... no good."

  Elisia clutched him. “What are you talking about? You're not making sense."

  He groaned, turning onto his side, head shaking, facing the far wall.

  "Talk to me, damn it!"

  "I'm only just the biggest ... fucking ... moron."

  Elisia's eyes clouded. Her lip trembled. The new world they'd just built, that place for two that looked like it had all the potential in the world was crumbling before their eyes. A collapsing house of cards. And he was letting it happen.

  "I'm sorry I was such a big mistake for you,” she sought to salvage what little pride she had left. “I'm sure Blackie can get you enough whiskey to drown out the unpleasantness of my memory."

  Now it was his turn to try and stop her leaving. “Elisia, wait."

  She was at the doorway. “Fuck you,” she took off running.

  "Damn it, slow down!” He was hot on her heels. Halfway to the truck he managed a diving tackle, grabbing her by the wrist. She fought like a wildcat, forcing him to pin her on her back, hands over her head.

  "Go on,” she snarled. “Rape me. Get it all out of your system."

  "Cowgirl, would you listen to me for thirty seconds?!"

  She closed her eyes and started humming. Loud. “This is me, not hearing you."

  "Fine I'll shout over you. The reason I'm a fucking moron isn't because I regret what we did, it's because I'm about to betray you."

  "No shit, Sherlock. I think you got
that covered already."

  "Not that kind of betrayal, Elisia. I pledged to be your protector, to watch over you, but I can't do that ... because ... I love you, too."

  Her gaze narrowed. “Excuse me?"

  "I love you right back, you little blonde minx. And I want to marry you—not for some bullshit trust fund, but for real. Forever. And god help you if you say yes, because I make the worst husband in the world."

  "But you've never been married to me,” she pointed out.

  "That's true."

  "I'm not like any other woman you've ever known."

  "An understatement, that is."

  "It could be different with me..."

  "I'm not changeable,” he warned. “If that's what you're thinking. What you see is what you get. Can you live with that?"

  She considered the matter, looking a whole lot more comfortable in her improvised bondage. “I don't know. Would you be faithful to me?"

  "To my dying breath."

  "Would you love me and cherish and honor me to the best of your ability?"

  "To the forfeit of my own life,” he vowed.

  She shrugged. “I don't see a problem, then."

  "What about you,” he challenged.

  "Will you be faithful?"

  She grinned mischievously. “As long as you keep me in line."

  "That I can manage. How about obedience?"

  She snorted. “Don't hold your breath."

  "Thanks for the warning.” Dev was hard again. “Now how about taking care of your marital responsibilities."

  "My responsibilities?” she complained. “I can't help it if you're hornier than a Texas Longhorn."

  Dev flipped them over, depositing her neatly on top. “That's the deal. If you're going to be defying me left and right, then you'll be spending a lot of time appeasing me in bed."

  She purred in satisfaction as he impaled her on his engorged rod. “I don't see a bed out here, Cowboy."

  "Nope. Me neither. But I see a Cowgirl who might need another spanking."

  "Promises, promises,” she grinned.

  Dev gripped her breasts, molding them. “These will feed our babies."

  "Oh, honey ... yes..."

  "One more thing, Cowgirl."

  "What's that?"

  "I'm not partial to blondes. What's the chance of you changing that beautiful hair of yours?"