Domination (Surrender Book 2)

by Tina Donahue

  “You’ll see.” He stepped away, leaving her bereft and mystified as he resumed his cooking duties.

  Max loved playing with Jacquie’s head. If she’d been any other woman, he would have entertained her at his apartment in the city, a bland white-and-black residence, heavy on glass and chrome. As sterile as his farmhouse was warm and inviting.

  She wouldn’t have belonged there. These surroundings matched the woman she was.

  He hadn’t meant to tell her so much about himself. The words simply fell from his mouth, countless hurtful memories rushing back. She chased them away with her own history and cluelessness when it came to TV stuff. Which made him wonder if she’d even seen a music video.

  He chewed his omelet and swigged apple juice to wash it down. “Have you ever watched a Dominant Men video?”

  “All of them, dozens of times. Possibly hundreds.”

  “You stream them on your TV?”

  “Can’t afford one yet. I’m still paying off loans for my associate degree in administrative assistance. The moment I got to LA, I enrolled at the community college. I watched the band’s videos at Surrender on my computer.”

  “Before or after you met us?”

  Her chews slowed and her face reddened. She lifted her finger and downed her milk. A full glass. “Both. But only during lunch hours and breaks.”

  He leaned in, catching her fragrance. Another flowery scent, this lighter than the one she’d worn at the club. He liked her current perfume better. “You’re a fan?”

  “Do you even have to ask? Don’t you remember me bragging on Breathe Me In when we had drinks at the club?”

  “Uh-uh. The only thing I recall is you propositioning, then kissing me. Totally epic. Don’t stop. In fact…” He tapped her place setting. “Clean your plate. Breathe if you must, but concentrate on nothing else except chewing and swallowing. You have two minutes to finish.”

  She leaned back in her chair. “What’s the rush?”

  He stroked her nipple. It peaked.

  Shivering, she leaned into his touch. “Are we going to bed once I’m finished? We don’t have to wait an hour for the meal to settle?”

  He fought laughter. “That’s for swimming. Don’t worry. Where I’m taking you—literally and figuratively—you won’t drown. Though there is water.”

  She grasped his wrist, not coming close to encircling it. “Where? Tell me.”

  “You’ll see. As soon as you finish your breakfast.” He chucked her chin. “Eat hearty. You’re going to need your strength.”

  After swallowing the remainder of her omelet, she stuffed her half-eaten biscuit and a cinnamon roll into her mouth, forcing both down with orange juice. “I’m done.” She burped. “’Scuse me.” Once she’d rubbed a napkin over her lips and hands, she tossed the linen on the table. “Let’s go.” She yanked his arm.

  He stayed in his chair. “Who’s the Dom here?”

  “I’d like to say you, but you’re moving too slow for one.”

  “Is that right?” He slid off his chair and slung her over his shoulder.

  She yelped.

  He squeezed her plush ass. “This better?”

  “God yeah.” She pushed her hands beneath his waistband and cupped his bare ass. “I like that you didn’t wear underwear.”

  “It’d only get in the way.” He carried her through the dining and great rooms then down a hall leading to the westernmost end, an area hidden in front by the house, and sheltered by trees in back, the stand so thick walking through it wasn’t easy. Tinted windows further hid whatever happened inside.

  At his destination, he entered then closed the glass door and locked them in. “Down you go.”

  On her feet, she stared.

  The greenhouse roof rose fifty feet, nearly as tall as the front entrance. Trees, flowers, and potted plants mingled in the moist, fragrant air. A veritable Garden of Eden. Outside, cats and dogs dashed past. His family. The one Jacquie worried he lacked.

  She turned a slow circle, drinking everything in. “Wow.”

  Her awe sent his heart to his throat and warmed him better than booze. Only her caress would have heated him faster. “You like?”

  “Who wouldn’t?” She gestured to the surroundings. “Did this come with your place?”

  “Had it built.”

  She blinked. “Besides cooking you like gardening, too?”

  He rubbed his mouth, holding in a laugh. “I’m not that domesticated.”

  “I don’t know.” She elbowed his gut. “You better show me otherwise.”

  No one could match her candid propositions. She spoke her mind and he loved it. “Strip. Now.”

  “Or?”

  Her challenge hung in the humid air. Water misted, turning the atmosphere thicker and charged.

  “This.” He pulled her to a wrought-iron chair and sat leaving her to stand. After undoing her jeans, he shoved them to her knees, his breath catching. She hadn’t worn underwear either, her delicate curls and crotch glistening from her moisture, her slit wet from arousal.

  Everything in him yearned to taste her slick folds, to smell her bush until her scent filled him and he couldn’t manage another whiff.

  He wasn’t certain such a moment would happen. When she was near, he couldn’t get enough, always hungering for more. “No panties. Not even a thong.” His voice caught. He cleared it. “Bad girl.”

  “You have no idea.”

  He would. With his arm around her waist, he pulled her over his legs, and spanked her. Hard. Vigorously. Without pause.

  She gasped and moaned, shrieked and yelled.

  Nothing stopped him until his arm hurt and her ass was good and pink.

  Clutching his leg, she panted.

  He stroked the separation between her cheeks, her skin impossibly soft, his rod stiffening. “You going to behave?”

  Her panting slowed. She coughed and swallowed. “Never.”

  “Have it your way.” He pulled her off him.

  She staggered right and left, the jeans around her knees fucking up her balance.

  He righted her. “Okay?”

  “No.” She toed off her sandals and removed her tee.

  No bra either; her nipples pointed at him. “No?”

  She dropped the tee on his shoulder. “Why’d you stop?”

  “Who said I did?” He pulled her back onto his lap, holding tight as he pushed the jeans past her calves and feet.

  Nude, she curled into him, suckling his neck, tonguing his ear.

  His nuts plumped and his cock squirmed wanting inside her, needing to linger in her warm depths until the day ended and she left.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Her leaving would be brutal. He never should have asked her to come.

  No way could he change things now, going with the flow his only option.

  He eased her to a standing position and cupped the back of her neck. “This way.”

  She held back. “Hold on.”

  “Nope.” He tugged her forward, his boots slapping the unglazed Mexican pavers.

  “Aren’t you going to undress?”

  “Not now.” He stopped and gave her a hard look. “It’s part of your punishment.”

  “I was wrong. Maybe you are a prick.”

  He held back a smile. “I can live with that.” He placed her hand on his fly. “But can you do without?”

  Her eyes grew wide. “You’re not going to fuck with me, either? Hell, I’m going home.” She pulled away.

  He yanked her back and threw her over his shoulder, spanking her extra-hard as she liked.

  “Damn.” She sucked in air. “That was…” She switched to Spanish, her words rapid fire like Eduardo’s.

  And equally unintelligible to Max. “Huh?”

  “Never mind.” She wiggled her butt.

  He swatted it.

  “Yes.”

  Before she got too excited, he put her down, facing away from him, pulled her arms behind her back, and cuffed her wrists
.

  She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Where did the cuffs come from?”

  “The internet.” He turned her back to the front. “You’d be surprised what one can find there.”

  “No kidding.” With her knee pressed against his balls and dick, she pumped her hands up and down, rattling the metal. “These were in your pocket the whole time?”

  “As a former Boy Scout I’ve learned to always be prepared.” He pulled condoms from his front pocket and waved them in her face.

  “Hmm. You’re not truly ready for everything if you didn’t bring enough.”

  He had five. “You are so going to regret your smart mouth.”

  “Is that what you think?” Impudence rose in her eyes. “I say you’re wrong unless you show me.”

  Using his height and weight, he backed her toward a vertical bar in the glass wall, a plant hook secured to it at waist level, its contour blunt to avoiding hurting her skin.

  Once he’d secured the chain between the cuffs to the hook, he stepped back.

  Sun grazed her breasts, pussy, and thighs. Blue highlights shone in her black hair. His stubble and kiss had puffed her lips and reddened her cheeks. Passion burned in her cool gray eyes. She resembled the paintings and photos in Bree’s office, those women raised in a culture demanding innocence yet their faces told a different story. Females who yearned for a strong male to ravish them then hold them close afterward, offering safety and love. A four-letter word if ever there were one, and not what should be crossing his mind.

  They were in here for pleasure, amusement, and because he couldn’t think of a single place he’d rather be, or a woman he’d prefer.

  Don’t go there.

  He wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Commitment was for fools or crazies like his folks. Someone had to break the Nolte curse. Might as well be him. If he could.

  Unsettled, he dropped to one knee at her feet.

  She looked down at him and smiled. “Gonna have your way with me?”

  And then some. “Wait and see.”

  While trailing kisses from her belly to her bush, he slipped two fingers into her cunt, his thumb glancing across her erect clit.

  She pushed to her toes.

  Dizzy, he lowered his face and pulled in her scent, her musk filling him. No flower smelled better. The other vegetation didn’t come close to competing. His heart thumped against his chest, hurting it. A pain he required, the same as this moment, telling him he was alive and worth more than what his singing and gyrations on stage amounted to.

  He was an ordinary man who wanted closeness even as it scared the fuck out of him.

  I’m losing my mind.

  He had to stop this shit, but wasn’t certain how. Shaky in a way he’d never been around a woman, he focused on Jacquie and licked her cleft.

  She spread her legs.

  His vigilance faded, leaving him helpless against her allure. Her scent, skin, voice, laughter, and intelligence unmatched.

  Aroused to the breaking point, he suckled her nub harder than he’d intended and also probed her tightest passage.

  Her head fell back against the window, making it tremble. Her toes curled and splayed. Deep pink stained her skin. Her gasps and his jarring breaths the only sounds he required.

  Male voices drifted in from outside, their Spanish incomprehensible, yapping dogs joining the noise, both men and beasts nowhere near the greenhouse.

  If anyone dared come by…

  Max would fire the lot if they tried to look at Jacquie. She belonged to him. For today. Once the sun set, the magic would end.

  Pained, he worked her clit, pussy, and anus harder, bringing her to a speedy climax.

  She fell against the frame, struggling for breath, the glass wobbling. “Fuck. I, I, I…”

  “Breathe.” Her face was dangerously red. He pecked her lips. “Relax.”

  “No.” She sucked air between her teeth. “Strip. Please. I’ll do whatever you want. Even watch the show about the Little House on the Prairie cook.”

  “Pioneer Woman.” He pulled off his boots. They clunked to the side, his socks landing on top, his jeans following. “Screw television. I want you to watch me.”

  “I am.” Her gaze hungered over him, lips parting. “Your balls are amazing.”

  He cupped them and held back an anguished cry. The suckers were too sensitive and ready to burst. He pushed down his pain. “Not my cock?”

  “There aren’t any words for it. I know. The thesaurus is my best friend.”

  Laughter burbled in his throat. He wouldn’t let it out, worried what he’d do when she was gone. Heartache wasn’t his thing. Pining wasn’t either. He pressed against her. “Don’t move.”

  “Why would I?”

  “Because you’re a bad girl?”

  “Mouthy.” She tongued his nipple. “Not stupid.” She sucked his pec.

  His legs bowed. Before she took his remaining strength, he grasped her wrists and tugged them apart sharply.

  The cuff on the right opened.

  She brought her left arm around to the front. “These are fake? Cool. Now let’s see if you can keep me down.”

  “Oh, please.” Faster than she could speak—which was jet-propelled at times—he pulled her other arm in front and snapped the cuffs back on.

  “Big deal.” She tugged.

  He tickled her.

  Shrieking and laughing, she stumbled away, the cuffs forgotten.

  He chased her around the greenhouse to the place where they started. Pinning her against the wall, he kept her from pulling the cuffs apart.

  “No fair.” She licked his chest, sucked his tat, and fondled his balls. “You’re bigger.”

  Like it mattered. She had more power in her mouth and slender fingers than he had in his entire body. “As I should be and as nature intended.”

  “In your dreams.” She pressed her knee against his nuts and worked his cock.

  The hairs on his balls stood up. He gasped.

  She gave him a smug look. “Now who’s boss?”

  “Me.” He lifted her wrists to another plant holder in the bar, securing the cuffs over it, her arms stretched to a point she had no leverage to tug her bonds apart and free herself.

  She regarded what he’d done then him, laughter gone, yearning in her eyes. “Make love to me.”

  His smile came before he knew it would. “With pleasure.”

  After sheathing himself, he positioned her legs on his hips and entered her deeply, willingly, happily, unable to do anything less. He required her in a way he didn’t want but couldn’t deny.

  They made love as she’d asked, rather than simply fucking, his tenderness a surprise, his passion unexpected, climax refusing to wait.

  He couldn’t. Each moment flashed by too quickly to lose more.

  Their pleased cries floated through the structure, joined by their scraping breaths as they came down as one and held each other in a longing embrace—until they needed each other again, making love four more times.

  Sated and dressed, Jacquie met Max’s pets as he’d promised, doing her best to remember their names. Oatmeal and Brownie for the geldings, Blossom for the mare. He called the adult ducks Mama and Papa and their brood Daisy, Donald, Huey, Dewey, and Louie.

  She fed the little ones. “How can you tell their sex?”

  “I’m guessing. If I’ve fucked up, I’ll send them to a shrink.”

  Jacquie laughed so hard, she fell on her ass.

  He’d named the sheep after the Rolling Stones, Mick being the one with the most wool. The dogs were Lassie, Yeller, Rin, Tin, and Tin Two. The cats didn’t answer to Sylvester, Felix, Nala, Simba, or Garfield, choosing to ignore him until he shook their bagged kitty treats.

  They crawled up and down him, trying to get their share, using their claws to hang onto his jeans.

  “Hey sweetie.” She picked up a young calico. “Careful with Daddy’s balls. You don’t want to hurt them.”

  Max chuckled.

  T
hey fed the animals and groomed the horses, those critters snorting like they were orgasming.

  The dipping sun turned the windows gold, creating a scene the Chamber of Commerce would have killed for: wealth, comfort, and well-loved animals.

  Jacquie envied them but couldn’t linger, unless Max asked her to.

  Shading his eyes, he glanced at the sun. “It’s getting late. Better end the day.” He looked everywhere but her. “I have lots to do tomorrow.”

  None of those activities included her. She pushed back disappointment, an old hand at it after her time with Andy. “Will Eduardo take me back? Want me to call for a ride?”

  Max’s face changed. “Who did you have in mind?”

  If she had to guess, she would have said he was thinking Andy. It wasn’t like her to pit one man against another to make them jealous. Hell, until now, two guys had never even looked at her at the same time. If Max and Andy wanted her for friendship, or to explore a relationship, she needed their decision based on honesty not manipulation. “A ride service. Let me get my purse and phone. Be right back.”

  He stopped her before she reached the door. “I’ll take you.”

  “Why?”

  Tin Two jumped on Max’s leg, his paws muddy, tongue hanging out. Max petted him, his gaze on the dog rather than her. “Because I will. Let me put on a shirt and get my keys. I’ll bring your purse out.”

  “What about the video?”

  He stopped and turned his head to the side, not looking at her, his hair wiggling in the breeze. “What video?”

  “For the band. We never talked about it like you wanted. You didn’t look at the notes on my phone either.”

  He strode toward the house, talking over his shoulder as he put distance between them. “You can read them to me on the way to your place. We’ll discuss the video then.”

  Chapter 11

  Max gripped the steering wheel, driving slower than he had since taking driver’s ed. Cars tailgated his Beemer then whizzed past when they could.

  Jacquie cleared her throat. “Do you want to hear more?”

  He nodded. Speaking was too difficult.

  She read her other ideas from their fateful night at Surrender.