Master of Mine: Masters of Haven Book One

by Dark, Raven

  “Fuck Gwen, come for me.”

  She moaned, grinding into him as her release spiraled her to ecstasy. Archer’s pace turned frantic. Gwen screamed. Archer roared, slamming forward a handful of times.

  Gwen clutched him to her, as his mouth claimed hers in a hot, fierce kiss.

  When he drew back, she grinned down at him, breathing ragged. “Wow. My whole body is tingling, Sir.”

  He let her down slowly, but kept her close, leaning her against the wall and resting his forehead against hers. “Liked that, did you?”

  She nodded, cradling his face in her hands. The gentleness, the warmth in his eyes melted her insides. “Yes, Sir. I’ve never felt anything like that.”

  Archer’s voice was barely a rasp. “Me neither.”

  She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but right now, she was all his.

  15

  Jerk 101

  Gwen snuggled up against Archer in his surprisingly comfortable bed. Before leaving the bathroom, they’d showered again, washing each other off. Archer folded her in his arms, tangling his legs around hers. The dusting of hairs on his chest tickled her cheek, and the heat his body generated wrapped around her like a blanket.

  “This is nice, Sir.” She nuzzled the crook of his neck, fingers making lazy lines on his chest.

  Archer made an approving noise in his throat and ran one of his large palms over her shoulder, down her arm, then back up. She squirmed against him and he grinned against her forehead. “It is. But stop that, or you’ll make me want you again.”

  Gwen looked at him, biting her lip around a smile. “That would be bad, Sir?”

  “It is if you don’t want to spend the day walking like you have a stick up your ass.” The stern look on his face, complete with the raging fire in his eyes sent a pleasant ripple through her. “Behave yourself.”

  The first ripple of self doubt swirled through her. “You don’t want me again, Sir?”

  Archer gave a soft sigh. “If only you knew what you do to me.” He pushed her hair out of her face. “But I don’t want to hurt you. It took everything in me not to ravage you. If I take you again now, I won’t be able to be a nice guy. I want to take it slow, until you’re ready for it.”

  Gwen dropped a kiss to his shoulder. Her heart swelled for him and part of her longed to see what he was capable of. To tempt him into losing control so she could see the dark side of him that clawed just beneath the surface of discipline that surrounded him. But the other part reveled in the warmth that came after their wild fucking.

  She set her chin on his chest. “Funny how sex changes everything.” When he lifted a brow at her, she grinned. “I feel a lot less nervous around you now, Sir.”

  “Good. I don’t want you to be afraid of me.” He brushed his mouth over hers.

  When he dropped his head back, she studied his face. She let her gaze rove over his fabulous body. Archer had exactly the right amount of body hair. Little more than a dusting of dark hair across his broad chest, working its way in an ever thinning trail down his rippled front, all the way down to where his half hard cock rested against his stomach, long, thick, and just a little curved.

  She’d have to ask to paint him someday.

  Archer tuned his head and kissed the top of her head, inhaling deep. “Get some sleep. I’ll take you for steak and eggs tomorrow before my morning class.”

  Tomorrow. She honestly hadn’t known if there would be anything beyond tonight between them. Happiness buoyed in her chest.

  “Sounds wonderful. Sir?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Thank you.”

  “For?”

  “For helping me. I feel safer with you than anyone I’ve ever known.”

  When she’d met him, she’d seen him as just another controlling, arrogant male, the last kind of person she wanted in her life. Yet here she was, in his arms, never wanting to leave. Feeling safe, protected. He was a place where the stalker couldn’t touch her.

  Something in him tensed at her words, and his arms seemed to close tighter around her. Protective. “It means a lot to hear you say that.”

  “I do mean it, Sir.”

  “I know, and you’re welcome.” He kissed the top of her head. “Sleep now.”

  Gwen shifted against him and laid her cheek over his heart. Safe.

  The strong, rhythmic beating of his heart soon lulled her to sleep.

  Archer jerked awake with a sharp breath. A woman’s scream ripped though his mind, calling for him. The memories gripped his heart in a cold, tight fist.

  He shifted, and a warmth of a woman’s body seeped into him. Gwen. He turned his head, rubbing his jaw on the top of her head. It surprised him how much strength and reassurance he drew from her closeness.

  Darkness still lay over the room, only a faint silver moonlight illuminating her sleeping silhouette against him. She had her back to him, head on the pillow next to him. So still. In the darkness, it looked like she wasn’t even breathing.

  Alarm stabbed through him. Archer’s heart beat in his throat as he reached one hand out to touch her. For one horrific moment, he expected her skin to be cold to the touch. To turn her and see her roll lifelessly onto her back, eyes staring up at him, unseeing.

  Gwen shifted in her sleep, letting out a soft, worried moan. Archer’s chest heaved; his breath came in harsh rasps. Relief flooded him. He slid his arms around her, shivering.

  Emotions roiled in him and he squeezed his eyes shut, gripping her close. His Gwen. The stalker hadn’t gotten her. Hadn’t somehow broken in and taken her life from him.

  Against his arms, her chest expanded, rising and falling. Rhythmic again as she relaxed in his arms. He held her, letting it sink in. She was alive.

  The emotions in him mounted until his chest felt like there was a knife lodged between his ribs. He wasn’t sure what it was that hurt so much, grief for what he had lost long ago, or the momentary terror at the possibility of losing Gwen. Gwen was the first woman he’d allowed himself to feel for in years.

  An absurd urge to keep Gwen all to himself, to never let anyone near her who might hurt her reared up in him, hard, twisted and ugly. Oh, man. He was not the overly controlling type, not like that. Not beyond the bounds of a healthy Dom. Outside the game, a woman could live her life, while he lived his. She saw who she wanted and went where she pleased. Except now, the idea of her going someplace where he didn’t know the layout, the people, made his heart race. It tapped into instincts honed in the military, a soldier’s instinct to protect, but then it twisted them into something much more possessive. More animalistic.

  Archer closed his eyes again. It was just his grief talking. It triggered a protective urge to watch for vulnerable places where Gwen’s stalker could get close enough to harm her. He had no right to expect her to live her life like a woman under armed fucking guard.

  Damn. Archer slipped out of the bed and paced over to his practice area. He ran a hand through his hair. He wanted to pound all his possessiveness, all his overprotective instincts into the punching bag, but that would wake her. He wanted to find her stalker, whoever he was, and beat him to a pulp for scaring her, forcing her into this situation.

  Possessive need thundered through him. He resisted the urge to wake Gwen and take her hard and fast until she screamed. Reminding her she belonged to him, and only him.

  He pushed out a long breath. He couldn’t control her life, no matter how worried he was for her safety.

  The awareness of what he had to do settled on him, heavy and painful. His past still hovered around him, an unwanted ghost he’d mistakenly believed he’d exorcised. Gwen needed a normal relationship, an equal one, outside of when they played. She didn’t need an overprotective bastard like him telling her what to do, where to go.

  And right now, as long as she was his, he wasn’t sure he could stop himself.

  Everything in him screamed to return to her. He went out onto the balcony, resisting the urge to look back at her luscious, sl
eeping form in his rumpled bed. If he looked at her now, into the peaceful, sweet, heart-shaped face, he’d never be able to let her go.

  His gut churned at what he knew it would do to her. She’d never forgive him. Never trust again. They’d never come back from this. I’m sorry, Gwen.

  Sunlight warmed her face as Gwen blinked open her eyes. Lethargy and a pleasant sort of soreness tightened her muscles and she stretched across the bed. She turned, expecting to feel Archer’s hard, warm body against her.

  Nothing. Gwen lifted her head, sitting up. The space beside her was empty. The faint sound of water rushing drifted from the bathroom.

  A subtle tension she hadn’t noticed trickled out of her and a pleasant sensation she’d never felt before wrapped around her. Archer Drake. Hers. A smile curled her lips and she rolled over, burrowing into the mattress. The memory of last night washed over her, and she moaned. She’d never forget the skill, the mastery with which he’d commanded her body, the intense way he’d brought her to release.

  An ache started in her core and she bit her cheek. Would he really take her like he promised next time, in a scene like Nick and Zoe had done? The fantasy played out in her mind and her nipples hardened against the mattress. Would he let her render that perfect body onto a canvas?

  Breakfast. He’d promised steak. Her stomach rumbled. She couldn’t decide which she wanted more, him or food. Maybe both, at the same time. She grinned into his pillow. It smelled of him, a little spicy and a lot Archer.

  The shower shut off. Momentarily, she thought of spreading out over the mattress, splaying her body for him, enticing him to take her again, only this time like he’d threatened to last night, brutal, hard, mean. The usual insecurities niggled at her and she folded into the mattress. Not there just yet.

  The door to the bathroom opened and Archer put his head out. “Morning. Good, you’re awake. I’ve got an early start, so you can’t stay long.”

  Gwen lifted her head. What…? She looked across the room at him as he ran a comb through his hair, buttoning up a silk shirt. He’d smiled at her, but the look was like his voice, all wrong. A frightening feeling she couldn’t name rose in her, clawing.

  She couldn’t stay long. That didn’t match with the plans they’d made. Gwen cleared the huge tightness in her throat and sat up. “Ok… what about breakfast?” Why did that sound incredibly dumb now?

  For an instant, she thought he froze, and something flashed across his face when he glanced at her. “I know. I’m sorry, Gwen. I forgot, my class starts earlier than I thought. Next time.”

  A cold chill passed through her. Some innate part of her screamed with confusion and something close to panic. Another part of her mind tried to tell her it wasn’t happening. But she knew it was.

  “Next time. Right.” She’d wanted it to sound casual, not flat and empty. Archer narrowed his eyes at her as he crossed the room.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to back out on you. I really do have to get going. Where are your pants?”

  Gwen pulled the bed sheet around herself, suddenly needing to hide from him without knowing why. She couldn’t look at him. “On the floor somewhere, I think.” She shivered, unable to make herself move to find them.

  She didn’t have much experience with situations like this, but she’d heard enough about the morning after to see what he was doing. A low burn of disgust filled her belly. Doubts and fears raked over her.

  She made herself look at him. For some reason, Archer wouldn’t meet her eyes, and seemed to take a long time finding her pants. The last thing she wanted to do was come off desperate or clingy when it was obvious she was being cast aside. But it was just such a change from the previous night, she couldn’t let it go.

  “Archer, why are you doing this? Did I do something wrong?”

  “Here they are.” Archer straightened after a moment and handed her pants to her. “If you want a quick bite, I have an apple or something in the fridge you can take with you.”

  He’d ignored her. If there had been a doubt he was pushing her away before, there wasn’t now. Gwen resisted the urge to rip her pants from his hand. She would not get angry.

  “Archer, look at me.” When he stopped, she drew a long breath. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No.” Huge grin. “Why would you think that?”

  Seriously? “Last night we talked about plans. Now you’re being all one-night-standish. Why?”

  Something—regret?—flashed in his eyes, and a shadow of something else she couldn’t read. Then it was gone. “Let’s not make a big deal out of this, okay? It was what it was.”

  Gwen blinked at him. Not make a big deal out of it? For an instant, her lack of experience reared up. Was she missing something? Had there been a sign last night that what had happened between them hadn’t meant as much to him as it had to her? Had she read too much into it?

  She closed her eyes, mortification racing through her. She looked at the floor, twisting her hands.

  “Was…” Deep breath. “Was it me? Did you change your mind? I’m not good enough?”

  Damn it, all the progress she’d made, standing up for herself, all the times she’d felt so much more comfortable with him than anyone else, and it was all slipping away. Suddenly she was that same shy, awkward girl she’d been when she’d come to his dojo that first time. The words frozen in her throat, her brain fighting to say what needed to be said. “Why are you pushing me away?”

  Archer let out a sharp sigh and she jerked her head up. His eyes closed before she could read them. His jaw muscles twitched.

  “Look, Gwen. I’m afraid you’re putting more into this than there is. I think you know I‘m not the right man for you.” He rubbed her arm. “It was a great night, but can’t we just leave it at that?”

  Was he consoling her? Anger sparked in her, hot and fierce, unlike anything she’d ever felt. It scared her. She shook him off. She wouldn’t beg.

  Shaking, Gwen stepped away from him. She fought to control her breathing while disgust rolled over her in waves. Disgust with herself for not seeing what he was.

  “Great. Fine. Sure.” She snatched up her shirt, throwing it on. Made herself spill the words out in a shaking voice. “I’ll get home myself. You want to behave like nothing happened, let’s do that.”

  “Gwen.” He reached for her. “Don’t be like this. I just don’t think it’s fair to you.”

  She backed up and yanked on her socks and shoes. “Right, I get it.” She stood once she was dressed. “You know, I can live with being pushed away. But don’t talk about it like I’m some naïve girl. I may not have experience, but even I know what this is. I’ve seen my brothers do this to women. It’s jerk 101, Archer, right out of the handbook.”

  She snatched up her coat and purse and strode for the door.

  “Gwen. Wait a minute.” His footsteps sounded behind her. Then his hand seized her arm. “Gwen, damn it, look at me. I am not like that. I…”

  Fresh anger flashed in her hot and hard, and she refused to push it down. Before she knew what she was doing, her training kicked in and she spun, ripping out of his hold.

  “Get. Off. Me.”

  His eyes widened. “Jesus, Gwen…”

  She didn’t let him finish. She had to get away before he saw any of the emotions storming through every part of her. “Forget it, Archer. It was nice knowing you.” She tore open his door and left before he could reply.

  By the time she’d raced down the stairs and out of his apartment building, the stinging in her eyes had subsided to a manageable burn. Son of a bitch. She should have known getting involved with a man who considered Ace his best friend would end in heartache.

  Gwen got in a cab, yanking her mess of hair into a ponytail. If she was lucky, she’d be safe in her own house with a huge tub of chocolate fudge ice cream before the waterworks came.

  16

  Making A Deal

  Gwen groaned as she handed Zoe a class of wine and sat on the couch beside he
r. “I feel kind of bad talking to you about this.”

  “Why? If you can’t talk to your best friend about this kind of stuff, who can you talk to?” Zoe sipped her wine, then set it down and took a large scoop of ice cream. She handed the tub to Gwen.

  “I know. But you and Nick are friends with Archer. I can’t be sitting here telling you what an asshat he is.” She shook her head and spooned some of the ice cream into her mouth, savoring the chocolaty confection.

  “Why not? He hurt you. Honestly, I’m not feeling very friendly toward him now. You should see Nick. When I told him, he wanted to give Archer a talking to, believe me.”

  “Oh, god, please no. Tell me he won’t do anything.” She touched Zoe’s arm when she looked like she wanted to help Nick bury him. “Don’t let him say anything.”

  Zoe shook her head. “He won’t, but only because I told him you didn’t want him to. Look, Gwen.” She turned to face her on the couch, tucking her legs under her. “This isn’t like Archer. He’s not the kind of guy to use women. I don’t know why he’s being such a jerk, but this isn’t him.”

  Gwen looked away, fixing her gaze on the orange skyline outside her living room. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over now.”

  The thought that she’d never walk into his classroom again, of even looking at her gi, left a hole in her heart. She remembered how much fun she had with him, how comfortable he made her feel. How easy it had become to be herself, and all the progress she’s made. Gwen rubbed her chest and slipped another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.

  In the three days since she’d left his apartment, she’d somehow only cried once and only gone through one tub of this stuff. She’d taken too much work with Nick, and delved into her art for hours. Dad and Ace had both called multiple times, both probably ready to call out the search parties, since she never ignored a call from them.

  Keeping herself busy had worked. She’d managed to hold out on spilling all to her closest friends until now.