by Grant, Livia
“If I have your consent to fuck you, I’d like to, very much,” he told her quietly. He didn’t want her to think she had to submit to sex, especially if she was sore. Damaging her was not part of the game. “Don’t feel you’re under any obligation to, Ava.”
“I… I’m not.” Her hips lifted a fraction off the chair as she licked her lips. Her hand moved slowly over her hip, her belly, to the wanton spread of her legs, then hesitated for a moment before she did as he directed and parted herself. “I’d like you to fuck me, Sir. Very much.”
His boots were toed off and kicked aside in seconds. The hiss of his belt through the loops at his waist ignited a fire in her eyes he relished. The buckle thudded to the carpet followed swiftly by his jeans—after he rescued the condom.
The fire in Ava’s eyes became an inferno when he gripped his cock in his fist and stroked himself from root to tip in one long move. “Stand up.”
Scrambling to get off the unusually shaped chair, Ava nearly fell off it in her rush. But she stood beside it eagerly, hands clasped in front of her.
“Hands behind your back, grip your wrists,” he ordered as he settled himself into the dip of the chair and rested against the rising curve behind him. “Good girl. That’s better. Now, come around in front of me.” He waited until she stood where he had a moment before. “Such a beautiful little dove. All mine.” He set the condom near his navel, just above the crown of his cock. “Get to work, Ava. The faster the condom goes on, the quicker I can fuck that pussy.”
She shuddered from head to toe in what might have been a full-body orgasm before she—quite elegantly—draped herself over the smaller hump of the chair leading from the dip. She reached for his cock, stopped herself, and then questioning blue eyes met his. “Please may I… touch you, Sir?”
For a woman so unacquainted with BDSM and its rules, she really was a damned quick study. Finn granted her a sharp nod and braced. His cock was primed for her touch, throbbing with impatience. “Free rein, Ava.”
He almost snarled when she brushed her fingertips over his shaft, following the veins pulsing for her. Her skin was warm, smooth as she drew circles around the tip with a single digit, then clutched him tight in her fist and stroked down in one firm draw. “Fuck!”
Her mouth closed over the head, suckling gently, tongue fluttering.
It took him every ounce of willpower not to grip her hair and force that wet, warm mouth over each inch of his cock until she choked. Small hands worked his length with just the right amount of pressure to set his balls tingling as her tongue coaxed curse words from his own.
“Enough.” He did grip her hair now, yanking her mouth off him before he did the unthinkable. “You little minx.”
The smile she gave him was completely innocent—completely. There wasn’t a fraction of coyness or mischief on her face. She didn’t have a goddamn clue she’d brought him to his fucking knees in seconds—she was just happy making him happy.
Finn ripped open the condom, rolled it on himself, not trusting he wouldn’t ejaculate immediately with her hands on him again. Instead he patted his thighs and thought of his projected losses of cows and calves for the coming calving season. That took the edge right off his need to come. “Pony up, minx.”
She slipped backwards, onto her knees at the front of the chair, then rose and hurried around to his side. He held his hand out to steady her as she swung her leg over him, pretty face contorting with a wince, and straddled his thighs. Then she looked nervous. “Pony might be right, Sir.”
He chuckled. “Are you saying I’ve got a donkey dick, Ava?”
Humor flashed in her eyes as she blushed. “I, ah, no, Sir?”
“Good girl, didn’t think so. Get that sweet cunt settled on me, Ava. I’ve got things planned for you.” Finn drew in a breath as her fingers closed around him, held his erection upright, then groaned when she used her weight to sink onto him that first blessed inch. Big hands clamped around her hips, urging her down to the tune of guttural moans and pained squeaks.
She fit him like a hand-tooled glove, taking him to the balls.
“Oh. My. God.” Spoken like a prayer, she let her head fall back.
Grinning, Finn savored the feel of her clamping down on him. She was swollen after the fisting, muscles twitching and flinching in reflex, but there was that fire in her eyes devouring each and every flicker of pain.
Finn eased her forward, enjoying the snaps of pleasure sparking in her eyes when his cock rubbed and pressed inside her. He kissed her, slow and sweet at first, then harder as her hips started to grind into him. She yelped when he bit her lip gently, teeth sinking into that plump lower lip.
“Tonight has been better than I could have imagined,” he murmured, trailing his lips down to her jaw, nipping at her skin. He moved up toward her ear, nibbling as he went. “Playing with you, finding someone as special as you, is my wet dream come to life.” His teeth found her lobe, left indents in the soft flesh. “The things I could do to this body with you in my bed, Ava.”
She moaned, long and deep, eyes closing.
He continued to roam, nipping and biting down the graceful line of her neck until he reached the slope between neck and shoulder. He ran his tongue over the flesh, felt her clench. “In my bed, in the forest, in the fields. Hell, I’d take you outside and lash you to the hitching post in the yard, fuck you in front of the ranch hands so each and every one of them knew just whose cock you need to make the world go away.”
Ava shivered and pressed herself closer, breasts against his chest. Her head angled to the side to give him better access.
“My dirty little minx likes that, does she?” Finn paused, wondering if his use of minx would give her cause to call out her safe word. Relief flooded him when she whimpered and rocked on him, trying to take him deeper. “My little minx wants everyone to watch this perfect pussy get fucked, wants everyone to hear her scream… now whose name might that be?”
“Finn,” she whispered.
He lifted her as high as he could, yanking her down as his hips jerked up. Her eyes popped open; her jaw dropped. “I don’t believe they heard you, minx. Try again. With the correct honorific.”
“Master Finnegan!” she cried out.
He struck, biting deep but stopping on the verge of breaking skin between his teeth. He felt her convulse, body cruising at full speed toward orgasm, and cracked both his palms down on her bare ass. “Don’t you dare fucking come, minx!”
Her mewl of protest nearly undid him. “Sir…”
He ignored her, nipping at her arms, licking at the skin, until he lifted the first of her scarred wrists. Gripping her limb hard, he picked out the worst scar. “I know you, Ava. I understand this, but it doesn’t happen again. I’ll take your ass to the bank with a bullwhip if I ever find a fresh scar. Understand me?”
Panting, she nodded.
“Let’s make sure you do.” He sank his teeth into the scar, holding on as she bucked and writhed on his cock. They didn’t have much longer left before his restraint would snap. “You give me your pain, Ava, and I’ll only offer back what you can handle.”
He marked her other wrist in exactly the same way, choosing the newest, pinkest scar to replace with the imprint of his teeth. “I could give you every filthy fantasy you dream of and worship the ground beneath your feet.” He slipped his finger between her cheeks, found her hole, and pressed. “Fuck this tiny ass until you cry, come inside you and watch it all trickle out… then treat you like a queen. My fucking queen. Everything is about balance.”
“Please, Sir, let me… let me…”
“Let you come? No, I don’t think so. Dirty little minxes want to be fucked hard, don’t they, Ava? They want to be punished, they want to burn alive with the absolutely exquisite pain”—he leaned her back and bit her nipple sharply, making her squeal—“that only their Master can give them. Who’s your Master, Ava?”
“You are, Sir!”
“Try again, Ava.” He suckled on her o
ther breast, sucking hard on the peaked point to make it harder, more sensitive, while his fingers rolled and pinched the one he’d already bitten. This time when his teeth snapped down, her hips bounced.
“Master Finnegan!” she wailed, sobbing now.
Finn eased back, studied her torso. Wherever he could reach, she was marked. Small red nips raising like miniature welts, bigger bites already swollen and bruising, but not a trace of blood. Her breasts were a tapestry of crimson dots, her nipples hard and ruby red.
He ran his hand along her thigh, grasping her hip as she mindlessly tried to ride him, urging her into a fast, smooth rhythm. Dirty talk and biting, he thought, definitely spurred his flighty little filly on.
Her hands grasped his head, his neck, fingers clawing through his hair. The abject hunger on her face was impossible to deny any longer; she needed sating and she was going to get exactly what she needed.
Finn smacked his palms down on her ass again just to hear the strike of flesh on flesh and her feverish moan. Then he gripped her cheeks, making sure his fingertips found uncomfortable welts to clamp onto, surging effortlessly to his feet with her clinging to him like moss on a tree.
“Do you know what I’ll do to this ass when you’re mine, Ava?” Stepping over the sex chair, he raised her up so his length slipped from her until only the thick crown remained. “Look at me, filthy minx. I want to see those goddamn stunning eyes watch me take you.”
They locked onto his. Sweat ran like tears from her hairline, followed the contours of her face as she nodded frantically. “I see you. I see you.”
Finn dropped her, grunting as she enveloped him again in delicious heat, then fucked her hard. Pounded into her as her arms slipped around his neck and his mouth found the pulse point in hers. “I’ll tie you facedown, little minx, and mark this ass with my brand. My initials seared into this backside,” he panted heavily, orgasm rising quickly at the thought. “Mine forever, just like I’ll be yours.”
Ava stiffened and keened, the muscles in her cunt spasming around him, barely hanging on. “Please!”
“Come, Ava. Milk my cock like the dirty minx you are.”
She shattered apart in his arms like glass under a bullet. Her body bucked, riding him better than any dream cowgirl. Her head fell back on a wailing cry of, “Master Finnegan!”
Fuck, he was done. His name in that sweet, blissful voice was the extra nudge over the edge. He roared, slamming her down to take every last inch of him as pleasure speared up his spine and crippled him. As semen filled the condom in painful spurts, his knees gave out.
They hit the chair with an ominous creak of wood.
Chapter 9
Ava
Master Finnegan had broken her.
Destroyed her flawed body, stripped it down, sanded it, left her ruined.
Ava slumped over the slab of pure beefcake beneath her and couldn’t care less that she was half the woman she’d been before the night started—if she’d had words, she would have thanked him. She might have been akin to dead weight on top of him, but inside, she felt so much lighter.
Tomorrow, she’d ache like a bitch. But she didn’t want to think of tomorrow, of a day without Finn’s voice in her ear, his hand brushing hers. In a matter of hours, he’d changed her, altered her perception on pain, and made her long for something… more.
Made her need him.
Her head lolled on his chest as it rose and fell beneath her cheek, their breathing almost in sync. Body temperature cooling, her heart rate calming, she almost purred as a big hand caressed her back from nape to butt lazily, gliding over sweat-slicked skin.
“You doing okay there, darlin’?”
For a man with such strength packed into hard muscle, he was surprisingly comfortable. Her fingertips explored his skin, tracing the rim of a scar she found on his ribs. Drifting on a high, she frowned at him. “You got kicked by a horse?”
Finn peered at her with one eye. “You haven’t answered my question, but no, not a horse. That one’s from one of my best cows, a bitch of a thing. Hell of a temper on her but throws nice calves.” He closed his eye, brought his hand to her nape and squeezed firmly in warning. “That scene finished more roughly than I planned, Ava. You need to tell me if you’re okay, or whether I need to summon the medic to check you out.”
That was him being rough? Ava snuffle-snorted a laugh and pressed her nose to his nipple, punch-drunk on orgasms and pain. She’d take that kind of rough twice before breakfast and more besides on a daily basis. “Were you holding back on me, Master Finnegan?”
“Don’t make me spank an answer out of you, little minx.”
Rubbing her nose on his manly nipple, she sighed. “I’m fabulous, Sir.”
“Any pain I should know about?”
She frowned. Even if there was, she wasn’t letting a stranger—DM or no DM—poke around. She’d had enough of that tonight, thank you, and she wouldn’t let the memory of Finn’s touch be eradicated by someone else’s. Tonight’s memories were all going in her mental lockbox on the special keepsakes shelf. “No, just a bit sore, I think.”
“Okay, good girl. Looks like the night’s wrapping up, little dove. I think we have time for a quick shower if you feel up to it?” Finn stretched lusciously, lifting her with his massive chest and flexing his cock inside her disastrously sensitive pussy. “Have you got plans for the rest of the night?”
She bit her lip. “Not that I can think of, Sir. You?”
“Well, I don’t have to be out of my hotel room until eight but my flight is at eight-thirty. I’d like to get to know you better, Ava. I meant what I said,” he told her earnestly, cupping her face in his huge hands and maintaining intense eye contact. “My whole life is ranching, and ranching is a minefield of possibilities and asking nature for mercy. Praying for rain for the crops, wishing for an easy winter to make calving time go smoother. So many variables that go wrong, and I gamble with it all every time I open my eyes in the morning and make a decision that could cost more than just money.
“Tonight, with you? Absolutely the biggest gamble I’ve ever made in my life and undeniably the best. I can see myself with you—five, ten, twenty years down the line.” He kissed her, gently, sweetly. “The question I need you to ask yourself is, do you feel the same way?”
Yes. Ava nodded, throat closing with tears.
Finn grinned at her, a triumphant expression resembling a predator cornering delicious prey. “Okay, so my proposal is this: we take a shower, maybe go for a coffee. Back to my hotel if you’re comfortable with that. You’re still a little dazed so I’m not holding you to anything you say until your mind’s clear enough to make rational decisions.”
She hummed as his fingers removed the tie from her hair and began to carefully unbraid the strands, untangling it from its unruly state and probably making it worse. She’d end up looking like a ripe dandelion, no doubt, but the look in his eyes wiped every concern from her head.
“We’re going to talk, long and hard, about what you want. What you need. What we want to accomplish together.”
“What about what you want?” she asked.
“If I have you, little dove, I’ll have everything I want.”
Her bottom lip trembled; his thumb stroked over it, stilled it with a touch. He had the power to do that, to incite shivers and trembles or stop them dead in their tracks.
Someone cleared their throat; Ava’s eyes slid to the right and up, up, up. She flushed furiously under the scrutiny of Black Light’s owner, Jaxson, then buried her face into Finn’s chest when her lover chuckled and greeted the ex-model with a friendly hello.
How embarrassing.
She became keenly aware she was naked, thoroughly claimed, and still locked tight to Finn. She flinched as warmth draped over her back, huddled into the blanket Jaxson placed over her before he drew up a chair and perched on the edge.
“My apologies for intruding,” he began, addressing Finn directly. “I trust you’ve had an… entertaini
ng evening, Master Finnegan?”
Finn’s purr of satisfaction reverberated through Ava’s body, awakening tiny fires. “Couldn’t have chosen a more perfect sub myself, or more interesting kinks.”
“Excellent. Well, you’ve seen the evening through, congratulations. I’m afraid I’m going to need to hurry you along; the cleaning crews are eager to get to work. And there’s a rather anxious submissive and her Dom waiting for Ava in the locker room.”
Ava’s head shot up. Rosie! Shit, she’d forgotten her friend existed tonight. Her thoughts turned to the activities she and Finn had spun, all the ways he’d had his hands on her, in her—oh fuck, in her—and the blood drained from her face. Had Rosie watched?
“Someone you know, little dove?” Concern marred Finn’s brow when she bolted upright, urging his semi-hard cock deeper into her sore center. His hands grabbed her hips before she could wrench herself off him. “Easy, Ava. Calm down.”
“She’s my roommate,” she blurted in a wheezing voice. Mortification soured every happy, pleasant memory from the last few hours. Tainted them with judgement and a sudden, overwhelming fear of how she’d be seen in her friend’s eyes.
Slut. Whore. Impostor.
Jaxson’s eyebrow lifted. “I’ll inform the relevant parties you’ll take care of her?” he asked Finn as strong arms snaked around her, restraining her from bolting.
“Please.” Finn’s tone was grim. He rattled off a hotel and room number. “For safety purposes, that’s where she’ll be. We’ll get dressed and let your crew get to work.”
Shaking, Ava fought against his embrace until she was too tired to struggle anymore. After the evening’s excitement, it didn’t take long. But he cuddled her, really cuddled her, rocking her until the panic attack eased.
When she stopped shaking and sagged into the comfort he offered, he lifted her effortlessly with an arm around her waist, disengaging them without too much mess or fuss, and disposed of the condom. “Come on, little dove. I think any decisions made tonight are going to be null and void. You’re exhausted.”