“So you told him.”
At Donald’s cocked eyebrow, I flush. “Stop stirring, Don.”
“I’m not stirring, just surprised.” At Nate, he nods. “Yes, I’m Jimmy’s father. I’m surprised she told you. I don’t think even her best friends know about Jimmy.”
As awkward as this is—my insides have started to churn away again, it’s that bad—I can hear the faint hurt in Donald’s voice. It’s not something I’ve ever noticed before. But after listening to every nuance of Nate’s voice for nearly two months, I’m used to muddling through tones to discern moods and orders.
I scowl at Donald, feeling slightly annoyed with him. “You say that like you think I was ashamed of him,” I bite out, unable to help the snark in my own voice.
“No, of course not.” His bluster just sounds false to my ears.
“Don’t lie. I know you think that. Well, I’m the only one who knew Jimmy who wasn’t ashamed of him. I’m the only one on this fucking ranch who loved him for who he was, not his frigging IQ.” I point my finger and jab Donald in the chest.
“It’s lovely to see you again, I missed you. But don’t put your own guilt on to me. Jimmy could have been dumber than a donkey, but his heart was good. Pure. He loved me for me. Not for who I am or what I can do and I loved him the same way.
“For God’s sake, he was what? Ten points under the IQ acceptance quota.” I huff out a breath. “He wasn’t good enough for the ranch or for you and Molly; he told me that. He knew you were ashamed of him. But I wasn’t.
“I don’t talk about him, because it hurts.” I hear my voice crack and know I’m on the brink of tears. These fucking waterworks. I’m sick of crying. “Not because I regret being with him for those last months. Heaven forbid.”
And that’s it. The tears start to fall and ashamed at showing such weakness outside of the bedroom, I storm off. As I walk down the stable’s walkway, soft neighs and sighs line my path. Two feet from the door, Nate calls out, “Marina.”
No.
I hover, my legs trembling with the need to disobey but I’ve already broken a ton of rules today, adding another one to the list is merely going to up my punishment. It’s hard. I want to retreat to my room, cry out my memories there. I hadn’t expected to be thinking of Jimmy today…it’s a topic I try to avoid at all times.
So, even though it kills me, I freeze a handful of steps away from escape.
Above the soft neighs, I can hear angry voices, Nate’s low bark and Donald’s bite as they snap at each other over me. That Nate’s defending me is a given. I don’t even feel surprised. This is it for me, for us. It’s what we do. And I’d protect Nate if anyone bitched at him. It’s how we roll now.
That doesn’t stop me from hurting. I’m literally vibrating by the time he reaches me. Anger, upset, misery, hurt, they’re battering me with the force of a hurricane. When his hand slides around my shoulder, I sink into him.
God, it’s good to hold him. To be in his arms, to have him hold me. His essence permeates my nostrils. I can tell, even though the doctors have told him not to, he’s been riding. He smells like sweat, fresh air, horses, and Nate. Bliss.
I turn my face into his throat and know that I could cry and that there would be no shame in doing so when he’s there to protect me, but I suppress my emotions, knowing I have to cross the yard again to make it home.
I move my face away and he whispers in my ear, “You ready, princess?”
His special name makes me suck it up and square my shoulders. “Yes, Sir. I’m ready.”
In unison, we step out of the shadowy gloom of the stables and into the bright light of day. The yard has quieted down, and for that I’m grateful. Everyone must be in the mess. The pair of us take advantage of it, only stopping once, when Alexei, of the weird Greta and James triangle, hails Nate to a standstill.
Even though his focus is on Nate, he keeps on darting wary looks my way as though expecting me to pounce.
That alone adds to my distrust of what’s going on between the three of them. As it is, he’s in luck.
I’m not in the mood for contemplating. Christ, it’s taking everything I have not to break down out here in the yard.
“Did you see what I mean over in the west pasture?” Alexei nods at me in greeting, but focuses his attention on Nate.
“Yeah. The grass lining the river needs cutting. I saw a heifer nearly fall in to get some water. Managed to get to her just in time to stop her from drowning. Thanks for bringing it to my attention, Alexei.”
“More than welcome. I saw the same thing, but knew not to do anything until I consulted you. It will be good when you’re back on the range full time. How are the wounds?” Alexei’s eyes flash to me and I can sense his curiosity. Everyone probably shares the desire to know all the facts about Nate’s injuries. Up to now, we’ve been very close-mouthed about them.
“I’m getting there. Slowly but surely. An infection slowed the healing down, but I went riding today and the jolts didn’t hurt. I’ll be in for a check up to see if I can return to full duties ASAP.”
Alexei nods and hearing the dismissal in Nate’s words, scuttles away.
Had I seen Nate around the ranch, watched him with the people here, I’d have realized sooner rather than later that he is a Dominant. There’s something about him… He’s polite, kind, even-mannered. But by the tone of his voice, you can tell what he wants. Like then, Alexei knew to go without Nate saying a word.
We make it to the homestead without further annoyance. The instant the door closes; he wraps his arm tighter about me and presses my head to his chest.
“Let it out, baby girl. Let it out.”
The instant those words penetrate my eardrums, I do as bid. Tears swell and drop over my lashes, rolling down my cheeks and drenching his shirt within ten seconds. Deep in his embrace, I let go, release the hurt throbbing through me. I know I’m crying about another man, but, as much as it saddens me to say it, Nate knows I want him. Every part of him. I lost Jimmy a long time ago, and even though he’s hard to talk about, I grieved for him and accustomed myself to his passing. This is because of Donald’s own guilt and trying to transfer it to me.
Nate hushes me, hums and soothes me, by rubbing his hand up and down the length of my spine and nuzzling his bristly jaw against my hair. I’ve seen him with the horses and his treatment is remarkably similar. The thought has a laugh hiccuping out of me.
“It’s good to hear you laugh, princess, but what’s so funny?”
I push my head back so I can look up at him through watery eyes. “I saw you yesterday with Buttercup. You gentled her the way you’re soothing me.” My smile is wide as I stand on tiptoes and brush his lips with my own. “Thank you. I’m sorry about crying. I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with me at the moment.”
He rubs his lips against my temple and settles me back into his arms. “It’s only natural. You’re on a path of self-discovery, baby. You think a few tears don’t clear the past away?”
“Maybe. But I swear, I never stop. It’s weird.” I shake my head. “Being a sub makes me a real pansy.”
“You’d be surprised how hardy a pansy can be.”
I chuckle at his teasing. A thought blasts through my brain and even though the moment is inappropriate, I push my forehead into his chest and close my eyes as I whisper, “Nate?”
“Yes, honey.”
I swallow. “I love you.”
“I know you do, baby. I love you too.”
The simplicity of his statement has my stomach bottoming out. I squeak, “You do?” Flinging my head back so I can gawk up at him, I catch his grin.
“Yeah. I have for a long time.”
“No way.”
“Way.”
I blink up at him. “I can’t believe it.”
He snorts. “You think I stay with every woman who gets me shot?” he chides me, then rubs my back comfortingly as hurt rumbles through me, apparently making an appearance on my face. “Now, don’t
get upset. It’s the truth.”
“That’s why I’m upset.”
“I didn’t say it to hurt you. I said it, because regardless of what happened in Chicago, I didn’t want to lose you. I think that says a lot, don’t you?”
Biting my bottom lip, I stare up at him. “Do you love me, because I agreed to be your sub?”
He shakes his head. “I’ve loved you for a long time, Marina. You agreeing to be what I’ve always known you’d become, is like a cherry on the cake.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re spoiling it.” I growl.
He laughs at me. “Don’t question why I love you, then.”
With a pout, I mutter, “There’s no guarantee I’d have become your sub.”
“Want to bet? When I first met you, it screamed at me. When we first hooked up, it screeched at me. It died down a little. Distance took the edge off. But these last few visits, I could sense it breaking free from you. Why do you think you tried to dominate me that last night we were together in Chicago?”
“I wanted to play.”
“No, you didn’t. You were testing me. Trying to make me react…you wanted me to take over.”
“That makes no sense. Why would I use FemDom tactics on you, if I wanted the opposite?”
“FemDom tactics? One of your girls taught you, I’ll assume?”
I blush at his cocked brow. “Yeah. Jenna. She taught me about edging.”
He snorts. “Yeah. I wondered how you knew about that.” With a shake of his head, he sighs, “You were testing the limit, the boundaries. Pushing me, urging me to react, because you need me in control. Even then, you did, you just didn’t realize why.”
I frown at him, wondering if that’s the case, but before I can ask another question, he lifts a hand and smooths the frown away. “Now, just because I love you, doesn’t mean you don’t get punished. If anything, it makes it all the more important.” He raises his arm and checks his watch, then shows me the time. “You have ten minutes to prepare yourself for what I requested yesterday.”
The blasé repetition of his love for me has my heart stuttering in my chest. Astounded, amazed…absolutely thrilled, I don’t even have it in me to grouch at him or complain about being punished.
Because why would I complain?
In his own way, even though I’m not sure I agree one-hundred percent with the fact I’ve been testing him for years, I’ve come to realize I do need this. Before yesterday, I’d been a pretty good girl. A few spanks here and there for cursing but no out and out defiance. And the weirdest thing is, it’s made me as edgy as hell.
Without another word and seeing how the afternoon has disappeared, leaving me only a few minutes to prepare for our five-thirty appointment together, I nod at him and retreat upstairs. I know he’s watching me, but I don’t work it. Don’t sway my ass back and forth. My second week as a sub, I learned not to tease unless he requested I walk for him… The punishment that time has made it so I don’t repeat the infraction.
Fuck, those pins hurt.
I enjoy the spanking, but not the pinch of the clothespin. Just thinking of them pushes me to rush up the stairs and toward Nate’s room. As I do, that weird lavender scent permeates my nostrils again. It’s weaker now, but the smell has lasted a hell of a lot longer than the average air freshener.
Curling my nose against the stench, I hurry into our bedroom. The instant the door closes, I pull at my clothes. Tugging my shirt and vest overhead, I strip off my jeans, toe off my low boots, and then gather them up and dump them in the hamper in the bathroom. Another rule, although not a commandment, is that I’m no longer allowed underwear. After discovering the pleasant friction of the inner hem against my pussy, I made no further complaint. And as I'm wearing the nipple guards, it's a relief to be free from the abrasive weight of a bra.
Rushing from the bathroom to the foot of the bed, I kneel down and position myself how he instructed. I rest my butt on my heels, spread my legs wide so he can see the crevice of my pussy, hands on my thighs, back straight, and head bowed.
The instant I’m positioned, I suck in a deep breath. Allowing the oxygen to flood my lungs, I release the air and hear the stairs creak as Nate climbs them. I close my eyes and take a few moments to indulge in this new ritual. I know I don’t have long, but I don’t need time. I need him. Centering myself, preparing myself for whatever is about to happen, a smile curves my lips at the possibilities flooding my brain.
The minute the door creaks open, I’m ready.
I’m his princess.
Chapter Twenty-One
Just as quietly as it opened, the door closes. Keeping my head down, I look up as far as I can while maintaining this position and see his boots. Crossed at the heel, his weight leaning against the door, I know he’s there for the long haul, and his silence is exciting, because it means he’s studying me. Every flaw, every perfection…they’re his to know, because they belong to him.
Fuck, my thoughts are working me higher than anything he’s doing. This idea of being His is a new thought process, but one so thrilling, sometimes, it’s difficult to even contemplate. Why it excites me, I don’t know. What I do know is I’ve never felt more secure and less vulnerable.
Before, even if I’d realized I’d loved Nate, I wouldn’t have told him. Learning about this new part of myself opened the doors to such revelations.
My thoughts make my breathing ragged. His, His, His…my pussy, my arousal, me. The thought swirls around my brain, taking me higher and higher until I almost don’t notice his boots are moving closer toward me. He stops with one foot between my thighs. Not touching me, just stood there, as close as he can be. He moves his hand to cup the back of my head, to tangle his fingers in my hair and then, the digits sweep down to caress my jaw.
“Have we behaved today, Marina?”
His voice is stern, harsh and oh, so fucking hot that my overloud breathing raises another notch in volume.
“I tried my best, Sir.”
“Your best is only good enough if you succeed, and we both know you haven’t. I saw you commit two rule violations so God knows how many more you’ve broken.”
As his hand tightens in my hair, I hiss at the sting and murmur, “I’ve sworn and well…” It’s do or die time.
Do I mention the bedroom suite? If I don’t, not only am I defying a rule, I’m lying to him… But if I do, I’d be ruining his surprise.
I hesitate over what would disappoint him more and whisper, “I saw the refurbishments in my old suite. I told Jase that I’d lie to you, so as not to ruin the surprise, but I couldn’t lie to you, Sir.”
In the outer field of my vision, I see the denim at his knees start to crease as he bends down and squats in front of me. He grabs a hold of my chin and tilts it up so he’s looking me dead in the eye. “Good girl. I’m sorry I can’t surprise you with my gift to you, but I thank you for being honest. Now, tell me. Why did you go there? This is my room, and as such, yours.”
I swallow and whisper, “I needed a time out.”
“And you hoped to avoid me?”
A scowl twitches across my forehead. “No, Sir. I didn’t want to see anyone. I just wanted to lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling.”
“Why couldn’t you do that here?”
“I-I don’t know. I needed…” I lick my lips, wishing I’d lied to him about seeing the refurbishments. Admitting I’m finding it hard to settle into the studio, that it’s impossible to create anything… I’d like to stay in denial for a little while longer. “I can’t…well, I don’t like the studio. I can’t seem to get anything done there. I feel like everyone’s watching me.”
“I see.” At my earlier admission, at my honesty, his voice had softened a little. Now, it’s back to harsh. Before I can panic over what’s wrong, he tells me. “And how long have you been feeling this way?”
Shit. I’m supposed to talk to him. Tell him stuff like this. Things that affect me. “Since the very first day,” I whisper.
“And why haven’t you told me before now?”
“Because it’s ridiculous. Everyone else loves it. Just me. I’ll get used to it, I guess. It’s hard though. In New York, I was never short of ideas. I tried to deny them, tried to suppress them, but they wouldn’t let me. I had to draw them. Here, there’s nothing. It’s… discomforting.” The word sits heavily on my tongue, but it’s the only way I can think to describe of this complete loss.
“What other rules have you broken?”
“I-I’ve cursed out loud and…” I bite my lip and around another whisper, “In my head. About five times.”
“But you didn’t say them?”
“No.”
“I want you to tell me if you think them in your head, but that doesn’t count. I don’t control your thoughts, and I don’t want to, either. That isn’t to say I don’t want to know what’s running through your mind. Because I do and you already know that. I’m disappointed that you haven’t shared your unhappiness at the studio with me. In fact, I’m quite mad about it.”
My head shoots up. Contritely, I stare at him. “I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to disappoint you. I just…it’s hard putting it together for myself. It doesn’t make sense to me, so why should it to you?”
“All the more reason to share this kind of thing with me. I’m more than just your Master, princess. I’m your partner, even if the balance seems skewed.”
“I’ll try and tell you these things in future, Sir.”
He grunts. “You’ll do more than try. But, enough of that, what else have you done?”
I frown down at the floor, because I know he’s going to say touching Donald. “It wasn’t a sexual touch,” I eventually mutter.
“No, but you touched another man, and did I give you permission?”
“No, Sir.”
He sighs at my low voice. “I think you need a lesson in remembering who you belong to.”
Once again, my head shoots up. “No, Sir. I know who I belong to.”
“I think you need a reminder.” He stands up and says, “On your feet, hands on the foot board, legs wide.”
Sinfully Mastered: Naughty Nookie Page 27