Calliope's Master

by Melinda Barron

  The heat she’d felt earlier returned. He wore a dark pair of jeans and a tight, long-sleeved jersey that hugged his muscles. It was open just enough to reveal a little dark chest hair.

  “You ready?”

  “Yes.” She thought about her disastrous attempt at submission with Justin. Why the hell had she checked her lipstick when she couldn’t follow through on the need that welled inside her? She should scratch getting her hair cut off her list.

  Give it up, Calliope. The only man for you is gone. “I’m ready to get to work.”

  “Let’s go then.” He opened the door and indicated she should go out before him. She found Sebastian on the porch railing, studying her with his green eyes.

  “Good morning.” She held out her hand, and he sniffed her fingers. He turned his head and rubbed against her, his purr audible. It made her giggle.

  “He’s a good judge of character.” Silas stood right behind her. Even through her heavy sweater, she could swear she felt the heat from his body.

  “He’s very sweet.”

  “Wait until you catch him trying to scratch the furniture.” Silas reached around her and rubbed the cat between the ears. The tom’s purr grew louder. She could relate to what the cat felt. Silas’ arm touched hers, and if she were able, she was sure she would be purring too.

  She bounded down the steps and then stopped at the bottom to wait for him. When he arrived, they took off across the parking lot.

  “Does Augstown figure into the witch trials?”

  “No, although some of our tradesmen have relatives who lived in the area during that time, the actual town doesn’t figure into the history.” His long legs were eating up the pavement faster than hers, and she hurried to catch up. At the same time, he seemed to realize what he was doing, and he slowed down.

  “Tell me about the village.”

  “We have the church and cemetery, of course. Those are our biggest draws, I think. People are fascinated with the headstones. In the village we have a glass blower, a blacksmith, a seamstress who makes made-to-order items and a general store. The town is open from Thursday afternoon to Sunday afternoon. People that stay at the hotel when the town merchants are closed generally are here to walk around the cemetery or just get away from the thick of things.”

  “I could see that.” They were nearing the village now. The sound of hammering filtered through the air along with masculine voices. The area seemed very different than it had in the dark of morning. Last night she’d been angry, an emotion which surprised her in the light of day.

  She should have been frightened to be out here alone, especially with a four-hundred-year-old graveyard not far away. But she’d felt no fear, only anger at the image that had appeared to Henry—on film, anyway.

  They were walking down the cobblestone street now, and it occurred to her that she didn’t really remember the actual trip out here last night. She remembered running up and down the street, and screaming, but she didn’t remember the actual journey to the town. How strange was that?

  She was about to mention it to Silas, when he tapped her on the arm. “You remember Chuck, right? He’s still a sheriff’s deputy, but he makes extra money helping us move along our construction.”

  “Mrs. Ingalls.” He held out a hand, and she shook it. “It’s nice to see you again.”

  “Calliope, please, and it’s nice to see you too.”

  “Sure do.” He indicated the buildings around them. “I’m here when I’m not at work, which is most mornings since I work nights at the SO now.”

  “By choice?”

  “Yup.” He leaned close to her and wiggled his eyebrows. “More action at night.”

  “A lot of his action has been here,” Silas said. “We’ve had trouble with kids thinking this is a party ground. That’s what I thought I saw last night when I saw you with the flashlight.”

  Chuck perked up. “Last night?”

  “Calliope went for a nocturnal stroll,” Silas replied. There was a short pause. “Tell me something, Chuck, have you ever seen anything… abnormal out here?”

  “Besides you and some of the construction workers? No.”

  The two men chuckled. Calliope studied the buildings as they walked. They were new, but they were built in such a way as to give them an old feel. The wood was not glossy, and there were no modern touches.

  When they reached the church, she stopped and looked to the left. The cemetery was much neater than it had been the last time she’d been here. The grass was freshly mowed, and there was a picket fence around the perimeter.

  This is where Henry died. She closed her eyes to see if she could feel her husband’s spirit. There was cold wind, but nothing else. If she were going to make contact with him, she would think the best spot would be here. But there was nothing.

  Her hands shook a little as she headed through the gate. She felt a slight stinging of tears, but she was able to hold them back.

  “Are you all right?” She turned to Silas, looking over his shoulder to where Chuck was walking back toward the construction work.

  “Yes.” She nodded. “I’m fine. Well, not fine, but…” She cleared her throat. “You want this place cataloged, right?”

  “Yes. There’s not a real record anywhere, and I thought it would be a nice touch.” He put his hand on her forearm. “Would you like me to leave you alone for a few minutes?”

  “No.” She looked over at the spot where Henry had fallen. “I was afraid I would lose it, but it seems like just another patch of land. How odd, considering he came to see me last night. Or maybe it’s because he came to see me that I’m so calm. Maybe I got it out of my system by being pissed off at the female ghost.”

  “Or the figment of your imagination,” Silas replied. “I sorta like that idea, because it means that, in your mind, you’re thinking of giving me a blowjob, and you know what I said about it being your choice.”

  “It won’t happen; I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked, and she cleared it several times to try and steady herself. “I tried earlier to… and… it was a disaster. The only man I could ever let top me is Henry. I’m sorry. I should never have said what I said last night.”

  He stepped in front of her, scrutinizing her carefully. “Would you like to know what Jolie said when I told her I wanted you for this project?”

  “Not really.” Hearing what Jolie had said to her was hard enough.

  “She said it was like you’d wrapped yourself in clouds and you intended to stay there for the rest of your life, never to let the sun, or anything else, into your life.”

  “Well, isn’t that very poetic. She was always a little melodramatic.” She clenched her hands into fists. “I’ll have to thank her for that frank evaluation.”

  “She cares about you a great deal. And she’s worried. You may hate me for this but letting yourself stew in misery is doing Henry’s memory a huge disservice. I would hope that, if I died with a beautiful sub in my command, she would find a way to move on, that I would have taught her that.”

  “Don’t you dare blame this on Henry.”

  “I’m not blaming Henry. I think he did teach you, and you’re ignoring it.”

  Rage built up inside her, boiling up from her toes and spreading through her entire body. “You pompous, arrogant… ass!”

  “Pompous and arrogant pretty much mean the same thing,” he said, leaning closer. “Don’t be angry with me because I pointed out the truth. Did Henry make you rely on him for everything?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Did he encourage you to keep up your photography, to work and get out in the world?”

  Her stomach lurched. She didn’t want to hear this.

  “Did he?”

  The worst part about this lecture, Calliope thought, was that Silas was right. And he wasn’t delivering it in a rude way. He was just pointing out facts. “Yes.”

  “Did he ever once make you imagine you couldn’t think for yourself?”

  “No.” Damn y
ou, she wanted to scream. Shut the fuck up!

  “It’s hard to lose someone you love.” His voice was gentle, and the tears she’d been holding back earlier slipped down her cheeks. “And it’s easy to give up, to say you’ll never get involved again, because you don’t want to go through pain. But you’re hurting yourself doing that. I’m not sure what happened with the event you said was so disastrous, but I don’t think you should allow yourself to give up because of it. Let a little sunshine back in your life.”

  A mischievous smile crept onto her face as she wiped at her tears. “Would that sunshine, be you?”

  “I wouldn’t complain if it was.”

  “Do you approach all your subs this way?”

  He traced his finger up her arm, and she shivered, even though he wasn’t touching her skin. It sure felt like it.

  “Sweetie, I’m not talking submission, not yet. That’ll come soon enough. Right now, I’m talking good, hard sex. You need to fuck.”

  Calliope’s breath caught in her throat. He was so right. “You’re moving a little fast.”

  “You’re only going to be here a month, and Nella and Phillip will only be gone for three days. I’d like to take advantage of this alone time.” The pressure on her arm increased, and she felt as if his hand would seep under her skin, touching her at her very core. “Don’t deny you want it. I can see it in the flush of your skin, the need in your eyes. Everyone needs physical contact, Calliope. It reminds us that we’re alive.”

  She nodded slowly, unsure what to say.

  “I’m cooking tonight, chicken and rice.” He wiggled his brows and smacked his lips. “Dinner’s around eight. Don’t be late.”

  He backed toward the gate. “You get to make the salad, and I’ll handle the veggies and bread. We’ll do the wine and dessert together.” He walked off, going a few paces before turning back. “And since I’m your boss, I expect you to work this afternoon, but you clock out at six, on the dot.”

  “Yes, sir.” She saluted him, the action surprising her. The smile he gave her made her toes curl and let her know he appreciated her smart-ass response.

  He turned and yelled for Chuck to wait. “I’ve got something to talk to you about.”

  Calliope glanced at the spot where Henry had died. She wanted so much for things to be different. But they weren’t, and it was time she dealt with it. Jolie was right about the clouds. Large, dark gray ones had surrounded her when Henry had passed, and they’d yet to leave.

  It was time for a change in the forecast. She just hoped she could handle the sunshine.

  The sound of popping grease filtered out through the kitchen door. Silas’ muttered, “Damn, that hurt,” made her bite back a smile. She’d been standing outside the kitchen for about three minutes. If she wasn’t careful, this could become a habit, and not a good one.

  She needed to grab hold of her senses and face things head-on rather than hanging back and wondering what was going to be said and how things would work out. It was obvious from their earlier conversation that this evening could end up with them in bed.

  Her body was ready, but her mind rebelled. Maybe a few glasses of wine would help her overcome the mutiny and let her body do what came naturally. He didn’t expect her to submit to him, so that was a load off her mind.

  So, all she had to think about was sex. Just sex. She could shut off her expectations and allow her clit and nipples to think. It had been hard to concentrate on photos that afternoon when all she could think about was a hard dick slamming into her. Her clit had throbbed since he’d told her she needed to be fucked.

  There had been several times when she’d considered relieving the pressure herself, but she hadn’t, because all she could think about was how good an orgasm would feel after her excitement built the entire afternoon.

  “One fuck,” she whispered to herself. “After the others are back, it will be easier to keep from being alone with him. All I need is one fuck. I messed up with Justin because it reminded me of Henry. This won’t remind me of Henry.”

  She took a deep breath and stepped into the kitchen just as a pop of grease landed on Silas’ shirt.

  “Crap!”

  She looked around the kitchen. Silas stood before the stove. Grease splatters were evident on his button-down shirt. “You do make a mess when you’re cooking, don’t you?”

  “Quite a bit,” he said as he used tongs to lift a piece of chicken from the skillet and placed it in a nearby roasting pan. “But the chicken’s seared and ready to go into the oven, after I add the special herbs and spices and the rice.”

  “It sounds delicious.”

  “I hate to tell you how easy it is. My mother taught me to make it when I was young. It’s comfort food—chicken seared in butter with garlic and pepper, then placed in a roasting pan with several packets of dry onion soup mix. You add the rice and water and bake it for an hour. When it’s done, it’s guaranteed to warm your soul on a cold winter’s night.”

  He hurried around the kitchen, adding things to the roasting pan before he hefted it into the oven. When he was done, he slapped his hands together and focused his gaze on her.

  “You look like a turkey invited to Thanksgiving dinner.”

  His words shocked her. “I do?”

  “Yes, you do. Your hands are shaking, and you’ve got what is commonly known as the ‘deer in the headlights’ look. Are you afraid of me?”

  “Not of you, not really. But… well, maybe a little.”

  “A little fear is good, just don’t allow it to send you running, okay?”

  Calliope nodded. Then she surprised herself. “If I was going to run, I would have done it earlier. I stood outside the doorway for a while.”

  “I know.”

  Her eyes widened at his admission, and then she laughed. “You could hear me?”

  “Not so much hear you as sense you. But I was concentrating on dinner. I had a feeling you wouldn’t go back upstairs. And I was right.”

  “Let’s go to the wine cellar and pick out a bottle, shall we?” He motioned her toward a doorway under a staircase.

  “Servants’ stairs?”

  “Of course.” He patted the upstairs railing before opening the door underneath it. “They wind up to the floors upstairs. The opening there is down at the other end of the hall from you.”

  “Might come in handy,” she said as she stepped near the opening. He flicked on the light before stepping behind her. She gazed down into the cellar. It looked cold and damp. “Seems like something you might see in a horror movie. The not-too-bright woman creeps down the creaky stairs after hearing a strange noise, like someone saying, ‘Come here, I want to kill you,’ only they don’t actually say it, the sound effects do it for him, and she goes down the stairs like she’s never watched a slasher movie in her life.”

  “Don’t worry,” he whispered in her ear. “I don’t want to kill you, I just want to fuck you.”

  Calliope felt as if she were standing on lava rocks. Heat surged through her as he wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her shoulder. She reached out and clasped the railing that was just inside the doorway.

  Silas clasped her hips and jerked her back against him. She could feel his hard cock pressed against her ass, and she whimpered with need.

  “Those are the sounds I like to hear,” he said. He kissed her neck through her hair, and then she felt the sharp prick of his teeth, reminding her of how a male cat claimed his queen.

  His breath was hot on her neck. “For months now, I’ve been thinking of wonderful scenarios for us: They involved you tied between the columns in my dungeon, crying out as my whip caresses your ass; you moaning in pleasure as I tighten the clamps on your nipples and clit; you struggling for breath as I shove my cock down your throat.”

  “Oh God, Silas.” She closed her eyes and savored the feel of his hard, masculine hands as they pushed her jeans to the ground. He caressed her thighs, and she tried to get ahold of her senses. Had anything ever felt this
good?

  This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Dinner first, with a few glasses of wine to numb her mind, take away the thoughts that were, even now, running through her. But her body ignored her subconscious, which screamed out that she should make him stop.

  He slipped a hand between her thighs. “Spread your legs as wide as you can.”

  She obeyed him instantly, and his fingers delved inside her wet folds. He found her slave ring and tugged. Calliope gasped; he tugged hard, and she came. Hot thunderbolts of pleasure soared through her as he tugged it again, and again, and again.

  He let go of the ring, then found her clit and pinched.

  “Silas!” Her scream echoed into the basement. The pain was exquisite, and she rode his fingers as if she’d never felt anything like it in her life, her hips rocking into his touch.

  “Say it,” he whispered. “I need to hear it.”

  She shook her head, and he pinched her again. Calliope bit her lip as the pain bit into her harder.

  “Say it.” His voice was low, commanding.

  Calliope closed her eyes as he pinched her again.

  “Please fuck me,” she murmured as she leaned back into his chest. “I need it. Please.”

  “Good girl.” He kept his hands on her, holding her steady. “Step out of your jeans.”

  She stomped her feet, trying to move the heavy material over her shoes. When she was unsuccessful she giggled nervously.

  “You’ve got hold of the railing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I’m going to let you go, so don’t fall down the stairs on me.”

  “I won’t.” Her arms shook as they took the whole weight of her body. He leaned down and pulled off her shoes. Then he helped her step out of her jeans. When she was naked from the waist down, he turned her.

  Before she could say anything, he grasped her face between his hands and kissed her, his tongue sliding into her mouth before she could even grasp the fact he was there. He stole her breath, his lips caressing hers. When he released her, he leaned his forehead against her.

  “You’re so beautiful.” She shook her head, and he pulled away and gazed down at her. Then he took her hand and pressed it against his crotch. “See what you do to me? I’ve been hard since you got here yesterday. All I could think about was this.”