Linger

by Lauren Jameson

  Lifting the flogger, Scarlett let the supple ribbons fly.

  Logan’s body was completely tense and rigid—and she knew he was trying to hold on to some semblance of control. But she thudded blows over his shoulder blades and down his spine, heating his skin, waking up his senses.

  It looked like the tension that he was holding so tightly on to was on the verge of easing, though he stayed silent.

  Scarlett swung the next blow with more force, landing it right over the lower part of his ass so that he would feel the vibration all the way to his balls.

  He shuddered, but still didn’t utter a sound.

  “Stubborn ass.” She couldn’t hold in the smirk. “You’re going down, baby.”

  Tossing the flogger to the side, then scooping to stuff two more toys into the pocket of her jeans, she circled around him, studied his face. A fine sheen of sweat glossed his brow, and his mouth was set in tense, stubborn lines.

  But he turned toward her, sensing her movement even through the blindfold and headphones, and that pleased her.

  Baby steps, she reminded herself as she slid a finger between his cuffs and his wrists, checking to make sure that they weren’t too tight, then gave him a thorough once-over.

  His breathing was quicker than normal, but even. His skin was slightly flushed, and while he sure didn’t look relaxed, she could tell he was still with her.

  Reaching into her pocket, Scarlett removed the next item that she intended to use on Logan. They were a set, two slender pieces of metal that looked like skinny pliers, each with a wooden ball weighing down the ends.

  Standing on her tiptoes, she fastened her mouth over one of Logan’s nipples.

  “Oh!” He groaned, his voice louder than usual because he couldn’t hear himself. He pulled at his chains as Scarlett sucked hard, then flicked her tongue over the hardening flesh.

  Pulling her mouth off of his skin with a wet pop, she pinched his nipple between two fingers, then applied the clamp.

  “Damn it!” That big body bucked, and while he was preoccupied, Scarlett paid the same attention to the other side, sucking his nipple to a point and attaching the clip.

  Finally, he stilled, the lines of his muscles telling Scarlett that he was furious. After dragging the beaten wooden stool over and stepping up on it, she pulled one side of the headphones away from his ears.

  “What color are you at, Logan?” She made sure that her warm breath fanned out over the lobe of his ear as she spoke, adding every extra layer of sensation that she could.

  As if by instinct and not design, he pressed into her touch rather than away from it, but his reply was still full of tension.

  “Green,” he said curtly, and Scarlett nodded. She knew he wouldn’t ever willingly use his safe word, but he’d confirmed what she’d noted.

  Replacing the headphone, she flicked one of the heavy wooden balls dangling from the end of one of his clamps, sent it swinging, and smiled when he gasped. Then she circled behind him again, and this time she set aside the deer-hide flogger for a cat-o’-nine-tails. Like its name suggested, the wand was connected to nine long ribbons, each with a bead at the end to add bite.

  His skin was flushed a beautiful rose, darker in the places where the flogger had struck. Scarlett loved seeing it, loved knowing that she was the one who had marked him.

  But now was not about her pleasure. It was about pushing him through his barriers so that he could obtain his own relief.

  Being careful not to swing too hard, Scarlett let the cat-o’-nine-tails fly. It had enough bite on its own—she didn’t need to put much force behind it. She struck slowly at first, a blow on one shoulder blade and then the other, repeating the pattern on his buttocks.

  When he seemed to be anticipating those slower strikes, she upped the pace, the flogger landing in what she knew would feel like a series of quick little nips—nips from very sharp teeth.

  And as she flogged him, as she wiped away her own sweat with her free hand, she kept an eagle eye on his body language. She’d known he was stubborn since her first interaction with him, but now—

  Now she was starting to see just what lengths he would go to, to protect himself. He held out far longer than any sub she’d ever seen before finally, finally, he started arching to meet the blows, his breath slowing, deepening, demonstrating that he’d finally hit that high, the rush of endorphins known as subspace.

  To keep the transition from being shocking, Scarlett dealt five more blows, decreasing the intensity of each until the last was just a tickle against the now red skin of his back.

  Bending to pick up the final two items that she’d laid out, Scarlett noted that her own arms were trembling.

  Seeing this particular man, this one who held on to control so fiercely, reacting so strongly to what she did to him, made her ache.

  Inhaling deeply, she once again moved in front of him. A quick glance told her that his fingers were still pink, his skin still smooth, despite the way he’d been pulling at his cuffs.

  Setting one of the two toys on top of the wood that bordered the stall, she opened up the bottle she held and squirted oil into her hand.

  Rubbing it between her fingers to warm it, she looked up at Logan. For the first time since she’d met him, he seemed to be waiting expectantly for her next move.

  It was the endorphins of subspace that had made him so open, but that didn’t bother Scarlett. It was why she’d pushed him the way she had.

  One day she hoped he would let her in consciously. But for now, it was her job to push him there, kicking and screaming if it came to it.

  “Here we go,” she murmured, then clasped his erection in both hands.

  “Fuck!” Logan reared back, then arched forward, pushing into her touch. He groaned as she interlaced her fingers around him, then started to slowly pump up and down the length of his shaft.

  Lost in sensation, he sagged on the chains, shuddering every time she reached the tip of his cock and slid back down to the root. Liquid gathered on the fat head of his cock as she slowly picked up speed, working the pulsing length methodically, carefully.

  “Damn.” Watching Logan’s head fall back, watching him lose himself in pleasure from the touch—her touch—had heat gathering between Scarlett’s legs, and she knew that her panties were growing damp. Hunger smoldered within her, and for a moment she contemplated taking him in her mouth, tasting the salt and musk of his arousal.

  But that would distract her, and this was all about him.

  “Oh.” Logan moaned louder, pushed harder into her grip. Swiftly, Scarlett reached up and removed first one of his nipple clamps, then the other, letting them fall to the ground as she returned her fists to his cock.

  “Shit!” he yelled, his mouth set in a grimace born of both pleasure and pain, and Scarlett knew that the blood was rushing back into his nipples, a controlled burn. She began to stroke him faster, one hand returning to the base of his cock as the other slid off the top, a nonstop stroke over his swollen flesh.

  “Yes. That’s—oh. Right there. Yes!” Beyond himself, Logan’s hips began to pump, thrusting into her firm touch, and she knew he was reaching toward his release. His breath quickened, his muscles trembled, and his cock stiffened in her hand.

  Right before he could come, she pulled her hands away.

  Logan howled, even as he thrust into the air. Scarlett grabbed the heavy sacs of his testicles in her hands, pulling them away from his body to help stave off his climax. His lips twisted in a sneer, his voice desperate as his body tried to find a way back into her touch.

  “You fucking cock tease!” he swore, sweat beading on his forehead. He was clearly frantic, and Scarlett licked her lips, watching the strength of his big body, restrained by the cuffs. “Let me come. Please let me come.”

  Ahh. There are his manners. Such as they were. Her focus narrowing to include n
othing beyond this man, this submissive—not even the wood and straw and still air that surrounded them—Scarlett took the final toy from where she’d placed it at the edge of the stall.

  Flicking the switch, she let it hum against her hand, a low but pleasant buzz.

  Except—he was almost there. She didn’t want to tease anymore—she wanted to shove him off the edge of the cliff from which he refused to jump.

  She turned the vibrating plug up to high, then doused it with a generous stream of lube. Working the liquid over the entire surface, she moved to stand behind Logan once again.

  His ass was still a beautiful scarlet from the kisses of her flogger. It was hard, and tight, and she found herself wanting to pinch it.

  Another time. Right now she needed to send him over the edge.

  When she slid a finger through his crack, he stiffened, though his pelvis still rocked into ghostly hands.

  When she pressed the tip of the plug to the pucker of his ass, he tried to pull away.

  She followed.

  “No! No, I don’t want that!” He yanked on his chains, and Scarlett pushed. The plug pressed against the tight muscle, and Logan groaned, the sound frantic. Then the tight flesh gave way, and the long, slender wand was in, the base snugged tightly against the hard planes of his ass.

  The vibrating of the plug sent Logan thrashing, his feet planted on the floor, his hips moving as if he were already inside Scarlett.

  “Not like this! I want to be inside of you!” he snarled.

  He had shown her why he didn’t like to come like this the first night that they’d met—that tender bundle of nerves inside of him milked his release from him despite anything he said or did.

  It shoved him past his own control and into hers. Which was why Scarlett ignored his pleas, pulled the plug out, and slowly slid it back in, even though she wanted exactly what he did.

  To be twined together, no barriers. Just naked skin and raw need.

  “Scarlett . . . Mistress . . . no!” Scarlett’s pulse skipped as he pleaded. Even though she knew his safe word, hearing the word no was disconcerting.

  But he groaned and shuddered as she pulled and pushed one more time.

  Standing on her tiptoes, she removed his headphones and tossed them aside. Then she tugged at the blindfold, pulling it free, the iPod following the headphones down to the ground.

  Logan’s eyes went wide as vision and hearing were returned. His gaze narrowed in on Scarlett, looking her right in the eye.

  “Please,” he begged, and she didn’t think he even knew anymore if he was asking for release or asking her to stop. “I want to fuck you.”

  Climbing back onto the stool, she traced a hand over the line of his jaw and savored the shudder. When she fisted her hand in his hair and tugged, he only moaned.

  “You don’t get to come inside of me until you let me in.” Her eyes were fierce, claiming his, as she reached down and wrapped her hands around his cock.

  “Mistress!” The word was a shout, and then he cried out again as he shoved into Scarlett’s hands, liquid heat streaming into her palms as he came.

  She let it fall, closing her grip on his softening erection. His body tensed as the shudders took him over, and the movement tightened his clasp on the vibrating plug.

  To Scarlett’s amazement, the cock that hadn’t yet fully softened went rock solid yet again in her palms. Before she could even move them to stroke down his length, another body-rocking climax shot through him, and she watched, stunned, as Logan threw back his head, closed his eyes, and released the most earth-shattering groan she’d ever heard.

  “No more. Please,” Logan whispered. He tried to fall to his knees, his body twitching with aftershocks. Breaking herself from her trance, Scarlett hurried down from the stool and moved to his back, switching off the vibrator.

  Logan moaned softly, and Scarlett bit her lip to keep from wrapping him in her arms. She had a duty to care for him now, but if she’d come to learn anything at all about this man, it was that he would be furious within moments.

  He wouldn’t welcome an embrace, so she wouldn’t press one on him.

  He was silent as she dampened a cloth with a bottle of water that had been in her bag, then washed her hands and slowly cleaned his skin. His expression was unreadable but fixed on her, and Scarlett felt her own fast pulse skittering through her veins.

  Swallowing thickly, she returned to his ass and slowly removed the plug. He hissed as she did, and she knew the burn would be waking those nerves up all over again.

  Setting the plug carefully aside, she moved the cuffs that still bound him. Click. Click. Releasing one wrist, she drew the circlet of metal through the loop on the stall wall, then released his other hand.

  “Fuck!” With a great snarl, Logan pulled away from her, putting distance between them as fast as he could. “I told you no!”

  Scarlett watched, her face set in an impassive line, as he scrambled for his jeans, then his cowboy boots. Picking up the shreds of his T-shirt, he tossed it aside as soon as he noted its ruin.

  There were so many things that Scarlett wanted to say. She wanted to soothe him, to assure him that everything would be all right.

  But she’d accomplished her goal—she’d touched that place deep inside of him, the one he kept so carefully guarded. Just a touch, but it was a start. And at the same time she’d taken him out of his own head, given him the respite that he’d asked for.

  After the intensity of what had just happened, Scarlett found that she wanted to wrap herself in his embrace. To savor the feeling of closeness.

  And as he glowered at her, his body rigid with fury, Scarlett understood that what this particular sub needed right now was space and time.

  “I’m going to go inside,” she said, making sure to keep her voice even. She would return to clean up their mess later—she needed to get out of his space. “Do you need anything?”

  “I need you to fuck me like you keep promising with your teasing.” Logan spat out the words. His body was rigid with frustration, his fists clenching at his sides.

  He was a lot bigger than Scarlett, and he was enraged. But she didn’t for a moment think she was in danger.

  “If you wanted a quick fuck, you shouldn’t have become a submissive,” she reminded him, biting back a grin when he hissed through his teeth. “I’m sure there are plenty of women around here who will give you just that.”

  But that’s not what you want. She knew that by now. What he wanted was to submit, to give in to the right Mistress.

  He just didn’t think he could.

  “You’re playing with fire,” he taunted, and stepped closer to her, once again dressed in his jeans and boots. Before Scarlett could react, he had his fist clasped in her shirt, and he dragged her up to meet his mouth in a fierce kiss that spoke of heated possession.

  “I’m too careful to get burned,” she whispered when he finally broke away. The kiss had singed her skin and told her that he wanted to own her every bit as much as she did him.

  It made her soul sing.

  He snarled at her words, glaring down at her, then spinning on his heel and stalking away. Scarlett watched him go, her fingers pressed to her lips.

  He was breathtaking, the jeans riding low on his hips, the muscles of his chest and back highlighted in the vivid colors of the setting sun.

  “Damn.” As he went she realized that, although it was a rule of hers not to ever lie in a power-exchange relationship, she inadvertently had.

  She was careful, absolutely. But if she failed—if she couldn’t get this particular man to submit, fully and completely . . .

  She wouldn’t just get burned. She’d be consumed.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Scarlett bit through the crisp skin of her second apple as she reached the top of the stairs and entered her room, closing the door behind
her. The scene had left her ravenous, but her emotions were in such a tumble that she wasn’t sure she could eat much else.

  Letting the tart taste spread out over her tongue, she crossed the floor to the massive window that looked out over the ranch.

  Logan was pacing back and forth across the yard, every now and then throwing a mangled tennis ball for Mongo, who would retrieve it with delight.

  His stiff steps showed Scarlett that he was in one hell of a foul temper. But he didn’t appear to be on the verge of collapsing, so she decided to just leave him be.

  She had her own care to see to, she mused as she methodically chewed her apple. Her body was sore, from the hard day of work that she wasn’t accustomed to and also from the tension she hadn’t known she’d been holding.

  The scene in the barn had been more about emotion than sex, at least for her. But that didn’t stop her body from being hungry, feeling tight, and aching with physical need.

  Knowing that she could shuck off her jeans, lie down on her bed, and take the edge off by herself didn’t sit quite right.

  Now that she and Logan had started . . . whatever this was . . .

  It didn’t feel right to do anything unless they did it together.

  “You need to focus on work this year, Scar.” She lectured herself as she slowly—stiffly—stripped out of her torn jeans and her filthy T-shirt. When her fingers began to work at the knot in her bandanna, her mind flashed to the memory of Logan’s strong, sure fingers tying it around her neck just that morning.

  The big, stubborn alpha had blindsided her at a point in her life in which she’d been pretty sure she hadn’t wanted the distraction of a full-time sub. No. She was lying to herself—deep in her heart of hearts, that was the one thing she’d always burned for.

  A partner. Someone to call her own, something she hadn’t had for years, if ever.

  But the timing wasn’t ideal. She’d had it all planned out.

  Obtain doctorate of veterinary sciences. Check.

  Spend year of internship on a ranch, honing her skills with larger animals. Half check.