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Controlling Krysta

Page 6

by Lyla Sinclair


  I tried to imagine Mason as a boy. “Why was that?” I’d relaxed as soon as he’d started speaking of his childhood. Did he know that would disarm me?

  “Because I was scared to death of my daddy’s bulls.”

  I watched a huge black bull, standing alone in a penned-off area.

  “Do you have a special gym in that barn? He looks like he spends all day in it.”

  Mason laughed as he propped his boot on a fence slat. “He’s more of a lover than a fighter.”

  “Anyone special in his life?”

  Mason made eye contact and I realized it may have sounded like I wasn’t really talking about the bull.

  “Actually, he’s got a whole harem of someone specials.”

  A jealous knot formed in my stomach and I broke eye contact. I’d had a flash of how I’d feel if I found out Mason was seeing other women. Were we still talking about the bull?

  “A harem of females? Sounds like any man’s dream,” I said sarcastically.

  “I don’t know. I think polygamy is over-rated—having to satisfy so many different women. It’s hard enough to figure out how to please one.”

  My eyes met his again. They were smiling at me and the corners of his lips were turned up a bit. Was I the female he’d like to please?

  Be cool, Krysta.

  “I think for polygamists, it’s usually about pleasing the man,” I said.

  “Damn, maybe I should reconsider, then.” This time he wore a full-blown mischievous smile.

  I melted. It was so sweet, how much he and his brother resembled each other when they smiled. But only Mason’s smile made my skin tingle.

  I wanted to press my mouth against those smiling lips. But I was still afraid of whatever this was between us, and what it could become.

  “Have you heard anything from Dixon?” I asked instead. “His voice sounded strange when he called in and said he was leaving town.”

  “Well,” Mason said thoughtfully. “What you heard was probably the unusual absence of cocky.”

  I raised my eyebrows at him, hoping he’d tell more.

  “Dix has a special woman in his life, but it’s been a long-distance thing for a few months now and he’s afraid he’s losing her.”

  “Dix? Afraid?” I repeated doubtfully.

  “Yeah. I’ve never seen him like this over anybody.” His brow knitted together and I knew that he was genuinely worried about his little brother, as Dix had been about him.

  “I hope he can pull this off. She’s a sweet girl…” He looked down at me and I caught the twinkle in his eye. “Not my type, though. I like ‘em with a smart mouth.”

  “Hey!” I said.

  I tried to punch him in the chest. He grabbed my fist, leaned in, and gave me a kiss on the forehead.

  That was it. He had me. He’d voluntarily made skin contact of the sweetest kind, and, apparently, that’s all it took for me.

  Now, I didn’t just want him. I wanted to keep him. Running my hands up his hard chest, I encircled his neck and pulled his head toward mine. He didn’t resist.

  By the time our lips met, he took over, pressing his mouth hard onto me. His tongue pushed inside, exploring with such passion, a ball of heat plunged from my chest to my stomach.

  I wanted more. I closed the inches of space between our bodies. His hands splayed across my back and squeezed me tightly against him.

  The heat from his body melted through me, morphing into desperate, burning desire.

  A strange sound tore through the air, startling me out of the kiss. I glanced around.

  “It’s Bart.” He nodded toward the bull. “I think he just told us to get a room.”

  *****

  I thought we’d go in the house and make love immediately. Mason had other plans—

  to cook me dinner.

  He turned out to be a bit of a gourmet and wouldn’t let me help in the kitchen at all.

  My dream man!

  We lingered over supper, and he told me all kinds of stories about when he and Dix were kids.

  He avoided the sadness of the past few years, but this probably wasn’t the right time for that anyway.

  My misgivings of a few hours ago had vanished. There was more than the hot tension and kinky sex. We had a real connection.

  His cell phone rang and he reluctantly checked the screen.

  “I have to have a quick meeting with Dix. The files are down the hall in my office.

  Make yourself at home. This should only take a few minutes.”

  “Hey Dix,” he answered regretfully, walking from the room.

  I decided to make myself useful clearing the dishes from the table. I wasn’t a big fan of kitchens, since people generally expected you to cook in them. But even I had to admit this one was pretty awesome. State-of-the-art, yet done in a way so you still knew you were at the ranch.

  When I finished rinsing the dishes, I wandered into the huge open living room. The wood beams in the high ceiling were a nice touch.

  I curled up on a distressed leather couch and thought about how surprisingly comfortable I was here.

  It wasn’t the house, though. All evening, Mason and I had fit together emotionally in a way I’d never experienced with a man.

  How was that possible? Had I been completely wrong about him? Or had whatever this was between us affected him positively, too?

  We’d kissed and held hands and he hadn’t seemed the least bit uncomfortable about it.

  I was so relaxed, cradled by the overstuffed back cushion, I only opened my eyes half-way when Mason strode in.

  Something slammed loudly on the coffee table and I jumped, suddenly wide awake. I glanced down and saw that he’d smashed a file folder down in front of me.

  I stared up at him in confusion. His lips were pressed together, his eyes narrowed. His entire body was tense.

  “What happened?” This was a different man than the one who’d left me twenty minutes before.

  “You tell me.” He nodded toward the coffee table. “Looks like I pulled the wrong file from Dix’s desk when I left the office.”

  My heart beating like a scared rabbit’s, I reached down and flipped the file open. It was the contract Dix had made up for me to sign. I’d forgotten all about it.

  Speechless, I stared down at the front page. This was bad.

  “Seems you’re a hell of an actress. I actually believed we had something.”

  “We do, Mason. I felt it all along, but I didn’t know for sure until I ca—”

  “Stop!” He leaned down, placing his palms on the coffee table. “There’s no point, now.” He glanced down at the contract. “I’ve read it.”

  “But it’s not—” What was I going to say? That is wasn’t how it looked?

  Mason stood and paced toward the kitchen. “I can’t believe Dix pulled this on me.

  He’d better hope Tessa wants him up north because I never want to see his face again.”

  “Mason, your brother was worried about you.”

  He turned and strode toward me. “So he hired a receptionist-slash-psychologist to trick me into thinking she cared about me?” He stopped in front of me. “Well, damn, I feel better already.”

  My heart hurt. Mason thought he’d been bamboozled by his brother and the woman he…

  I tried not to think the word. It came anyway. Loved. An hour ago, Mason had loved me.

  I couldn’t let it fall apart now because I knew I loved him, too.

  “Mason, listen to me. I’ve wanted you from the first day. I didn’t sign the contract for the money. I just needed a way to rationalize these urges I had.”

  “Get the hell out. I can’t listen to you anymore. Who knows what they’ve taught you to do in shrink school.”

  So I was getting to him.

  I stood and walked around the coffee table, stopping right in front of him. I hoped my nearness would change his mind, but I was afraid to put my hands on him.

  “Please let me stay,” I said quietly.

/>   His face softened for a moment. He was tempted. Then he got hold of himself and the stern expression returned.

  “You wanna stay?” His voice held a challenge.

  “Yes.”

  “If you stay now, everything will be different. You’ll be here under the terms of this contract.” He took it from the table and held it up in front of me. “Your body will be mine to control.”

  My breathing quickened at the last sentence. The words “mine to control,” echoed in my head.

  I wanted him to rule me, dominated me. But I also wanted to prove to him that I cared about him.

  “I’ll go one better,” I said. “I’ll stay under the conditions of the contract, but I won’t accept the money.”

  He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at me. I could see the shrewd businessman at work, trying to determine what my angle was.

  “Okay,” he said finally. “Go to my bedroom. Take off your clothes and wait.”

  I stood there for a moment, undecided. What would he do to me, knowing I had signed that contract with his brother behind his back?

  The thought frightened and aroused me. Would it be painful? Humiliating?

  I glanced down at his waist. I remembered Mason whipping me with his leather belt and I could sense the rush of liquid to my pussy.

  I needed to stay to find out what other arousing humiliations he could dream up for me. And I needed to show him it wasn’t about the money.

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  Chapter Seven

  It seemed like I’d been standing in the bedroom for a long time. My clothes were folded and laid neatly on Mason’s dresser, since I didn’t want to mess up his immaculate room.

  I stared at the fancy headboard on his giant bed. There was a Texas star emblazoned in a circle in the top portion. The bottom half was made up of square wooden spindles.

  Would he fuck me on that bed? A tingle slithered over the skin of my arms.

  Why was he waiting so long to come in? Was he undecided as to whether he would really let me stay?

  That thought panicked me. How could I make sure he wouldn’t change his mind and throw me out?

  I had an idea. I got down on the hardwood floor on both knees, my hands folded in my lap.

  Seconds later, Mason strode in and stopped dead in his tracks. I was sure my position was having its desired effect. His chest heaved as he stared down at me.

  I dropped my eyes and bowed my head, looking as submissive as I knew how.

  He cleared his throat. “Get up,” he said. “Lie down on the bed.”

  I stood and climbed onto one side of the bed, hoping he’d join me.

  “In the middle.”

  I obeyed.

  “Spread your legs as wide as you can.”

  I complied and he stood at the end of the bed, directly in line with my crotch.

  “No, that’s not wide enough.”

  “That’s as wide as they go,” I said.

  He turned and opened one of his dresser drawers. When he swung back around, he’d donned a pair of gloves.

  Shit. I knew they were a symbol. He was back to protecting himself against emotions.

  He didn’t trust me or my feelings toward him.

  He came to the end of the bed, grabbed my ankles roughly, and positioned my feet so they were flat on the bed, my knees bent.

  “Now you can spread your pussy more for me,” he said.

  When I didn’t move, he pressed on the insides of my knees, so that my legs were in an awkward frog-like position.

  This was much more humiliating than any other I’d been in.

  “Now, show me how you touch yourself.”

  The gloves, the weird position, the idea of having to masturbate in front of him, was all too much.

  “I’m not here to touch myself!” I said.

  “No,” he replied calmly. “You’re here to do exactly what I tell you to, like we agreed.

  And the only appropriate response to my commands is, ‘Yes, Mr. Maddox.’”

  He stared at me, waiting for a response. If it were anyone else in the world, I would have told him to go fuck himself, but I felt as if his dark eyes were hypnotizing me.

  “Yes, Mr. Maddox,” I whispered. My pussy contracted with my words.

  “Go ahead,” Mason said. He stood at the end of the bed, legs splayed, arms folded, waiting.

  Slowly, I lifted my hand from the bed and skimmed it down my abdomen to my pelvis.

  I took in a shaky breath, then slid my finger through my slit.

  My clit sprang to life, relishing the attention. Yet, this wasn’t what I truly needed.

  “Please, Mason…I want you to—”

  “You’re not allowed to call me by my first name. I think you need a reminder.” He walked over to his closet and opened the doors. I’d never seen such a perfectly organized space in my life.

  He reached into a box and pulled out what appeared to be a cummerbund for a tuxedo.

  “Sit up.” He came toward me.

  I complied, wondering why he’d want me in a cummerbund.

  I soon found out. He tied it around my eyes. Damn, I hadn’t expected to be blindfolded.

  “Lie down and put your arms above your head.”

  I did as he asked, even though the blindfold was making me jittery.

  “Grab the spindles and hold on. If you let go, I’ll have to tie your wrists.”

  I didn’t want to be blindfolded and tied. I curled the fingers of each hand around a spindle.

  I heard him moving around the room. Drawers were opening and closing.

  The mattress dipped on my left side.

  Tremors of fear and anticipation caused my muscles to jerk involuntarily.

  Annoyed by my over-reaction to the situation, I sucked in a calming breath and blew it out slowly. I could choose not to be nervous. I was in charge of my own fear.

  Pain seared through my right nipple. Shit! Was he piercing it?

  Releasing the spindles, I clawed at the blindfold. My other hand skimmed over my breast to see if it was injured.

  Instead of a nipple, I felt cold metal. Before I could explore further or remove my blindfold, my hands were jerked up over my head.

  His palm pressed my wrists into the bed and I realized he was holding both with one of his big hands…just like in my dream.

  A wave of arousal coursed through me at the thought of being dominated so completely. Yet I was still angry. What a freak I was turning out to be.

  I struggled and he pressed harder.

  “Krysta!” He said sharply. “Do you want to stay?”

  I stilled.

  I shouldn’t have wanted to stay. Staying was crazy. But I certainly didn’t want to leave.

  And I hated the idea of saying it out loud. Admitting that, for some strange reason, I wanted to stay here with him no matter what he planned to do to me.

  Maybe if I made this about the feelings between us, instead of the sexual weirdness.

  “Mason, I—”

  “It’s Mr. Maddox, and the only answers here are ‘Yes, Mr. Maddox,’ or ‘No, Mr.

  Maddox.’”

  I knew that extra edge in his voice was there because of the contract. Maybe I did deserve to be punished.

  “Do you want to stay?” he repeated.

  “Yes, Mr. Maddox.”

  “Grab the spindles. This is your last chance. Let go again, and you’ll be tied.”

  I wrapped my fingers around the spindles, this time determined not to let go no matter what. I didn’t want my hands tied.

  Pain shot through my left nipple. I startled, but didn’t move my hands. I became aware of the cold steel chain on my skin, snaking from one nipple clamp to the other.

  Each time I breathed, it slithered, changing positions slightly on my chest.

  “I’m going to tie your legs open so you don’t thrash around too much.”

  The idea of being tied frightened me. It always had.

  “Please don’t tie
me, Ma—Mr. Maddox,” I cried.

  “This is what it means to be my contracted whore. I’m not interested in what you want. I don’t have sympathy for your fear.”

  My heart ached because behind the shield of indifference, I could hear the hurt in his voice. In his mind, he’d cared for me, and I’d betrayed him.

  I lay there quietly as he tied my ankles with leather straps and pulled my legs wide.

  As I became aware of a small buzzing sound, a vibration hit my clit.

  “Oh!” I yelled. It was a hit-and-run sensation, gone in a split second. My pussy flexed.

  My clit cried out for more. I wanted that feeling back.

  Instead, the chain on my chest moved and the clamps pulled at my sensitive nipples. I moaned as fabulous waves of pain swelled in my breasts and washed through my torso.

  My pelvis thrust upward on its own. It was rewarded with another burst of electricity on my clit.

  “Oh…yes!” I said. Before the second word was out, the apparatus had been removed.

  The feeling melted away.

  I nearly let go of the spindles in my desperation to touch myself, but squeezed them harder instead.

  My hips undulated, begging for more.

  Something cold and hard touched my clit, but there were no vibrations this time.

  “Do you want me to turn it on?” Mason asked.

  “Yes!” My hips thrust as though they could turn the vibrator on themselves. All that got me was a little more pressure.

  I heard the buzz as the jolt hit me. “Ahhh—” I began, but it stopped again.

  “Do you want to come?”

  “Yes, Mr. Maddox.”

  “Then tell me about this arrangement with my brother. What was the payoff for him?

  Was he planning to humiliate me with the contract after you and I were supposedly together?”

  “No… No!” I was shocked he’d think such a thing. “Your brother loves you.”

  “If he did, he wouldn’t make me the butt of his joke.”

  “It wasn’t a joke. He was worried about you… He cares about you.”

  “All Dix cares about is Dix. He has you charmed like all the others.”

  “Dix may be charming, but you’re the one I—”

  A shockwave hit the entrance to my pussy. This time, the buzzing bliss went on for one, two, three…

  My body stiffened, more than ready for the orgasm. The word I’d been saying turned into “l—oooooh!”

 

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