by BJ Wane
She figured there were around thirty people gathered on the first floor as they stepped inside, with several others already up in the loft, enjoying the BDSM equipment she’d only gotten a glimpse of last week. A sultry voice crooned through a sound system she couldn’t see, the seductive tune drawing her eyes across the room to the couples swaying close together on the dance floor. One tall man slid his hand down the silk panties of his petite brunette partner and pushed her pelvis against the slow gyrations of his hips, holding her there as he ground against her. Goosebumps raced across Sydney’s arms as she imagined the scrap of silk covering the young woman’s mound offered no barrier to the heated friction of his denim-covered erection. Connor distracted her from the scene by handing her a one-night punch card for her two-drink limit, his blue eyes lit with humor she ignored.
Crossing to the bar, he nodded or waved to a few people seated at the tables before introducing her to the drop-dead gorgeous man eyeing her with piercing gray-green eyes filled with speculative interest, a toothpick dangling from the corner of his mouth.
“Grayson, this is our new cook and my guest tonight, Sydney Baker. Sweetie, Grayson is Willow Springs’ sheriff and the third owner of the club.”
“Nice to meet you, Sheriff.” Sydney held out her hand, surprised at the warm tingle his grip elicited. She put her reaction down to a normal response, given her long celibacy followed by her frustrating, unrequited lust for her boss this past week.
“The pleasure’s mine, Sydney. Have you taken a tour yet?”
“No, but I think I’ll stick to this level for now.” She glanced toward the dance floor again, noting a few bouncing bare breasts this time before scanning the rest of the spacious room. Her face warmed as she caught sight of a woman slipping to her knees, her hands and mouth reaching for the jutting cock of the man standing before her. “Then again,” she stated with a rueful grin, “down here may not be any tamer than the loft for a newbie like me.”
The midnight-haired sheriff winked and drawled, “Trust me, sugar, upstairs, any Dom here can take you much further.” He stood to his impressive height of six-four and clasped her hand. “Connor, if you don’t mind, I’d like to dance with your guest.”
“Feel free.” He looked from Grayson to her. “Sydney, the only thing you need to remember tonight is that red is the club’s safeword. Say it, and whatever is happening will stop immediately, including something innocent like dancing.”
From the little she’d seen, even dancing wasn’t so innocent, but Sydney nodded, too thrilled with the sheriff’s attention after a week of pining for a man who wanted nothing to do with her outside her job to wonder if she was in over her head. “Got it, thanks.”
Caden entered the club in a pissy mood. As if the memory of a world-class ass with soft, round buttocks that reddened to a beautiful hue under his hand wasn’t enough of a burden the past twenty-four hours, he’d also developed another bout of guilt to contend with. The thought of leaving Sydney alone for another long night kept biting at his ass during the difficult breech delivery of a calf. When he’d returned to the house intending to offer to stay home with her and found her gone, his first thought was she’d gotten herself lost again. A quick call to Connor had set his mind at ease over that possibility but hearing his brother mention her whereabouts took his mood from tepid to boiling in the blink of an eye, effectively erasing the guilt.
He spotted her bright, waist-length hair across the room, her slim body swaying too damn close to her partner, keeping perfect time with the upbeat country western song. Stomping over to the bar, he ignored the questioning looks from friends and glared at Connor across the bar top. “Explain.”
Grayson, whom he hadn’t noticed sitting on the stool next to him, slapped him on the back none too gently. “Lighten up. We’re keeping an eye on her and I was dancing with her up until a short time ago. She’s having fun and has some damn good moves for an inexperienced newbie.”
Connor shrugged, just as unperturbed over Caden’s anger as Grayson. “I have every right to invite a guest and don’t need your permission.”
“Fuck.” Running a hand through his hair, he looked over at Sydney again and had to admit they were right. His gut tightened when she laughed up at Dan, a long-time friend and member, her green eyes alight with pleasure. The tight band of her skirt hugged her slim hips before flaring out around her thighs, her twirls revealing creamy, soft flesh he itched to touch again. Small breasts swayed braless under the cotton tee, and his eyes weren’t the only ones enjoying the rigid outline of pert nipples.
“How long are you going to sit there stewing?” Connor asked him, leaning back against the bar and crossing his arms.
Ceding to the inevitable, Caden dragged his eyes from Sydney to his conniving brother. “Your turn is coming. Don’t forget that. You too,” he included his best friend, Grayson, before turning his back on their smirks.
Nudging his way onto the dance floor, he tapped Dan’s shoulder. “My turn with our guest,” he stated without giving the other man a choice. Thankfully, Dan was a good sport and nodded with a small grin curling the corners of his mouth.
“No problem, Caden. Thanks, Syd.” Dan bent and kissed her on the mouth before sauntering toward the bar.
Moving in, Caden drew Sydney next to him, enjoying the way the quick flare of ire in her eyes changed to a gleam of excitement as he pressed her close. “Someone should’ve warned you of the consequences of playing with fire, darlin’.”
“Oh, they did, but I found getting singed could sometimes be worth it, for the right reason,” she returned with a smug look.
The brush of those pert nipples against his chest turned out to be a good example of getting singed, Caden thought. He could swear the turgid tips left imprints on his chest when she shifted away.
“Yes, but that doesn’t negate the higher risk of getting a third-degree burn.” That saucy smile prompted him to make a snap decision and try to thwart her persistent come-ons with a harsher taste of what she thought she wanted from him. The spanking yesterday seemed to have done nothing but spur her on. Knowing his luck, this might not work either, but he’d be damned if he stood by all night and watched her flirt with others. He would save questioning the prick of jealousy that poked him when he saw her with Dan for later.
Grabbing her hands, Caden drew them behind her back, cuffed her wrists together in one of his hands and hauled her tighter against his shifting pelvis. He ground his thick erection against her pubis, watched her eyes widen and eyed the rapid beat of her pulse in her neck with relish. His little cook wasn’t as sure of herself as she let on.
Bending down, he ghosted his lips over hers, whispering, “You want to play with me, Sydney?”
Sydney shivered from the unexpected light brush of Caden’s mouth, the warning in his tone bumping up the heat pulsing in her sheath, his moves reminding her of the dancing couple she’d watched earlier. She liked the tight clasp of his hand around her wrists, the way his restraint bound her to him, stripped her of choice and gave him complete control. “Yes, I mean… all I know is I can’t stop thinking about…” Wanting you. “Hell, Caden, I don’t know, but I want to give it a try.”
The resigned look crossing his sun-bronzed face was not flattering, but she’d take what she could get as he ground out, “Then come upstairs, and we’ll see if you can take what I like to dish out, and we’ll both know, one way or another.”
He brought her hands in front and kept a tight hold of both as he tugged her along behind him toward the stairs and then up. The sense of urgency he displayed would thrill her if she didn’t think his sole intention was to drive her away rather than introduce her to the pleasures he indulged in. She was getting good at shoving aside the pangs of hurt he caused her.
The dim lighting in the loft cast eerie shadows around the space, but Sydney could still get a clear picture of various apparatus scattered around and barely make out the row of spanking implements hanging on the far wall, some of which drew a frisson of unease
down her spine. The faint strands of music were over-ridden by the sounds of leather-slapping flesh and high-pitched cries from either pain or pleasure, or both. Caden didn’t give her time to gawk at the scenes taking place as he led her over to what looked like a gymnastics vault until she got close enough to see the thick dildo attached in the middle.
Stumbling to a halt, she went hot then cold and tugged on her hands. “Uh, what…?”
Turning, he drilled her in place with his vivid gaze. “You demonstrated you’re in need of another riding lesson, didn’t you?” he reminded her with a slow lift of one brow before commanding without pause, “Strip.”
He would have to bring up that error in judgment. She struggled to swallow past the sudden lump constricting her throat as she glanced around to see if anyone watched. “On this?” She waved at the vault. “Just like that, huh?”
He nodded and crossed his arms. It was the ‘I told you so’ confident smirk on his face that galvanized her into action and defused her misgivings. Moving fast, she shimmied out of the skirt, whipped her top over her head and curled her bare toes into the wood floor. Standing in just a pair of bikini panties, Sydney swore his heated blue gaze seeped right through her skin. Her nipples puckered under his intense regard and her pussy warmed and swelled, reactions she was starting to get used to. God help her, but she wanted him any way she could get him.
Waving his fingers, he cocked his head, asking, “Do you need help with those?”
Caden shifted to her side, his big body shielding her from view. If not for that considerate maneuver, Sydney wasn’t sure she wouldn’t have balked, despite the shrouded seclusion of the corner. “No,” she replied, proud of her steady voice. Sliding the last barrier to complete nudity off, she gasped as he clasped her waist and lifted her astride the wide, padded vault without warning.
“It’s called a Sybian.” After placing her feet in stirrups on the sides, Caden wrapped her hands around the pommel set a few inches in front of the long, wide dildo that was giving her heart palpitations. “I’ll leave your hands free since you’re new at this.” The light brush of his callused fingers up her slit drew a full-body shudder as he nodded and then grasped her hips and lifted her, leaving her little choice but to lower onto the phallus or say the safeword.
A low groan spilled past Sydney’s compressed lips as the sheathed, lubed toy speared her vagina, stretching the under-used muscles until she sat with it fully embedded. Proud of herself, she tossed him a look of triumph he cut short with the flick of a side switch and a sardonic curl of his mouth.
“Oh!” The slow roll of the padded vault accompanied small vibrations against the long-neglected, ultra-sensitive nerve endings deep inside her. Sydney was so intent on concentrating on rocking with the apparatus and dealing with the fast spiral of arousal curling up through her pussy, she didn’t notice Caden retrieving a slim rod from underneath, or the square, silicone slapper attached on the end until he snapped it against one buttock. The immediate sting snagged her attention off the ripples of pleasure raising goosebumps and her eyes flew to his.
“Either ride or say the safeword. Those are your two choices. Anything else will earn you a punishment I guarantee you won’t enjoy.” He flicked his wrist and struck her other cheek, the sudden burn fueling her lust, whipping her into a frenzy of need that outweighed the urge to kick out at his smug look.
Pressing down with her feet, she rose with the forward sway of the machine and lowered as it righted itself. Closing her eyes, she pictured herself astride Caden’s wide body, pretended it was his cock she gyrated on with increasing vigor, his hair-roughened thighs against her softer ones as she gripped his sides tight. A few more strikes peppered her buttocks, the painful heat spurring her on until he switched and shocked her by blistering her right nipple with a snap of the rubber square.
“Ow!” Reaching up with one hand, she cast him a reproving look, rubbing the abused, burning tip. Too bad her indignation fell flat when the throbbing, painful sting executed a straight beeline south to take up residence between her legs, the added pleasure enhanced by her slow circulating palm caressing her tortured nipple.
“Do you have anything else to say or are you ready to continue?” he drawled, one corner of his mouth kicking up in a taunting smirk.
Sydney left off her breast masturbation to grip the pommel, ceding to his mastery and the need rippling around the ridged toy filling her. “Do your worst, Boss. I can take it.” At least, she prayed she could.
Shaking his head, he delivered a strike onto her left nipple, but this time she was prepared for the bite, and for the heated streak of pleasure. She closed her eyes again, this time against the cobalt blue of his knowing gaze and rode the dildo for all its worth. If he wanted a show, she’d give him one, and get a little payback along with her pleasure in return.
She shivered as the thick phallus abraded her slick, swollen tissues and her inner muscles clamped around the toy. Pushing down with her feet again, she dragged her pussy up the pulsating, silicone cock, moaning as she contracted around it with the slow glide over her clit. Arching her head back, she lowered once more, feeling the stretch and burn, glorying in the fiery pleasure. The clit rasping up and downs were accompanied by snaps of the spanker back and forth between her breasts and buttocks, leaving behind the most delicious zing of pain/pleasure.
Unable to hold back any longer, Sydney gasped, arching her sweat-slick body and grinding down on the fake cock with all the finesse of a panting bitch in heat. Her body bucked under the onslaught of gripping pleasure coiling up through her core with the vibrator’s increased pulsations. Muscles spasmed, her juices seeping around the intruding phallus to pool on the seat as her sheath convulsed with rhythmic pulses. Her cry reverberated around the room, but she kept her eyes closed, basking in the release that soaked her mind as well as her body, through it all, conscious of Caden’s eyes on her.
Caden’s mouth went dry watching Sydney splinter apart, her soft, glistening body undulating on the Sybian a sight to behold, guaranteed to drive a man to his knees with lust. Tight nipples thrust up, begging for a touch, the areola puckered around them, giving away her heightened state of excitement the cream coating her slippery folds confirmed. Her labia wrapped around the dildo like a loving glove, and he couldn’t look away as her body clutched at the toy with tight grips meant to contain both the vibrator and the pleasure. Her abdominals quivered as she strained for release and he succumbed to the urge to touch, lightly tapping on her mons pubis with the snapper while strumming one distended, reddened nipple with his finger.
By the time he shut off the vibrator and the machine and watched her come down from the euphoric high by slow degrees of awareness, he wasn’t sure who won this round. All he knew for certain was it wasn’t him, not when his cock remained a steel rod of discomfort in his pants and he refused to bury himself between her slick folds and allow her fiery heat to take him up in flames. Even if her responses to his control were every Dom’s fucking dream.
Setting aside his own need to see to Sydney’s well being after such an intense experience, Caden lifted her perspiration-slick, quivering body into his arms and carried her over to a chair nestled in the corner. Without talking, he cuddled her on his lap, stroking her damp hair back, running his hands over her soft skin as he gave her time to work through what she was feeling. He would need more than these few moments of aftercare to get himself under control.
His brother had a lot to answer for, but could he honestly blame Connor for the riot of emotions Caden couldn’t subdue, let alone make sense of? Only two things had become clear as a bell tonight; he couldn’t continue to straddle the line between employer/employee and Dom/sub. And he couldn’t let her go.
Sydney snatched her purse off the hook by the front door and skipped out into the crisp afternoon. Bounding down the steps, the dogs came loping toward her with wagging tails. She smiled at their eager welcome and stooped to feed them the leftover bacon and sausage from breakfast. Too ba
d she didn’t see or hear Caden come up behind her until his deep voice revealed his frustration with her continued spoiling of the collies.
“Sydney.”
Spinning on her heels, she looked up at him, shielding her eyes, catching the glimmer of amusement in his gaze despite the lowered brim of his hat. “You’re not mad,” she accused, pushing to her feet. “It’s just a few meat scraps. See, they’re back to work already.”
They both watched the dogs answer a call from a hand on horseback before Caden noticed her purse. “Where are you off to?”
“Willow Springs, and get that look off your face,” she chided. “I know my way there and back. I didn’t find whole fryers in either the mess hall’s freezer or yours and the guys have been asking for chicken and dumplings.”
He nodded toward the chicken coop attached to the horse barn. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll save you a trip. How many do you need?”
Sydney stiffened with a wave of incredulity at his suggestion. Indignant, she fisted her hands on her hips and sputtered, “We are so not eating Clara or Betty or Tandy…” She paused in her tirade as he closed his eyes, his lips moving but uttering nothing aloud. Cocking her head, she asked blandly, “Are you counting?”
“It’s either that or wring your neck. You’ve named the damn hens? Please tell me you haven’t been making nice with the chickens like you have the dogs.” He tipped his hat back and his eyes held the same disbelieving surprise she’d felt riding the Sybian at his command, only now there was also a hint of humor tugging at his mouth.
“Well, I couldn’t very well keep calling them ‘hey you’, now could I? And all I’ve been doing is tossing them some of the rotting vegetables from the garden. Besides, my meat comes already dead, plucked and ready to cook. Later, Boss.” With a small finger wave, she strolled to her car, feeling the heat of his gaze through her jacket.
