Bunny and the Beast [Divine Creek Ranch 22] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)

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Bunny and the Beast [Divine Creek Ranch 22] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) Page 10

by Heather Rainier


  Mona hugged her shoulders and obviously set out to discreetly explain what Conrad was up to. Joseph chuckled when Bunny turned so her face was in profile, her jaw hanging open. But she didn’t interfere, smart girl. He schooled his expression as she scanned the room and then looked back to him and smiled. His heart slammed against his sternum.

  Holy shit. He gulped quietly as their eyes locked and her cheeks flushed. To see her smile at him like that created such an ache in his chest.

  He didn’t look away, and neither did she. Their staring match continued, and finally her grin widened and she made that naughty, and very sexy, lapping motion at him with her tongue and his dick turned to stone.

  “So are you planning to share her with the other Doms once she’s more broken in?” Samson asked, and Joseph found Samson’s stare assessing him when he shifted his gaze to his friend. He knew Samson was pushing him and for a good reason. Joseph had been without a regular sub for a long time. Some of his friends thought too long.

  “Bunny is a smart, independent woman, latent submissiveness notwithstanding. She knows her own mind, and I’m letting her make her own choices.” He sat forward so only the two of them heard him. “But if I have my way, I’ll be the only one she’s submitting to from now on.”

  Samson turned his gaze to her and grinned as he stared hungrily. “She is a sweet little armful of mischief. Any Dom would have his hands full with her.” He swung his deep blue gaze back to Joseph. “Treat her right or you may have competition.”

  “From you?” Joseph asked, ignoring the discomfort that thought brought with it.

  “Look around,” Randall said, gesturing discreetly to several Doms throughout the room, all good Doms, who were also watching Bunny. “There’s your answer.”

  It was time to lay it on the line with an impish sub.

  * * * *

  Toward the end of the evening, Bunny and Mona were relaxing and talking in one of the seating areas when a man and a woman, who both wore the same collar as Bunny wore around her wrist, approached them. They sat when Mona greeted them and motioned them to join them, and during a break in the conversation, the female sub, a woman whose features indicated Asian heritage, lightly touched her arm and waited until Bunny smiled at her.

  “Did you really braid Master Samson’s hair?”

  “I’m curious to know, too,” the male sub said as he crowded closer on the couch. “When we got here, a friend told us what you did.”

  Bunny giggled, and as if in reminder, her ass renewed its throb. “Yes, and I have the stripe to prove it, too. I won’t be doing that again anytime soon.”

  The pretty Asian girl held out her hand to shake. “I’m Shae, and this is Robert. You’re my new hero.”

  “Since then, I’ve heard from several people tonight that he’s a sadist. My radar must be off because, when I saw him, my first instinct was to hug him and do something that would make him smile.”

  Robert grinned as he looked over her shoulder. “I think you did. He’s with Joseph and Randall in the VIP section, and he’s actually laughing and smiling.” Robert’s face grew serious as he said, “I think he needed that. His last sub, a little masochist—”

  “Bitch,” Shae muttered under her breath.

  Robert looked around as he shushed her. “His last sub safeworded here in the club and then broke it off with him publicly.”

  Bunny’s eyes rounded. “What did he do to her, to make her do that?”

  Mona’s eyes got big, but she didn’t say anything as Shae picked up the story. “It wasn’t what he did. She said he didn’t do enough and there was no point in fooling themselves. She basically called him out for not satisfying her.”

  “Not satisfying her?” Bunny asked, trying to school her expression. “But he’s a sadist. Isn’t he supposed to be into giving pain?”

  Robert said, “Trust me, he is. Those of us who have been on the receiving end of his whip will testify to that. But her needs surpassed his limits.”

  Shae leaned in. “She wanted harder play than he could give her.”

  “Harder?” Bunny said, her jaw dropping as she reached back to rub the welt she could still feel through her panties. “Did she expect him to draw blood?”

  The wide-eyed looks confirmed her suspicion as Bunny imagined just that, and suddenly she frowned, wondering how he must’ve felt to be publicly told he wasn’t good enough. She didn’t curb the urge to look behind her to where the men were sitting. Not surprisingly, they noticed her watching them, and Joseph smiled at her. She’d felt so out of sorts since making the acquaintance of many of the Doms in attendance that night, wondering if they expected her to be intimidated by them. Some of them definitely gave off a scary vibe, but not the men on the dais across the room. She might never want to be on the receiving end of Samson’s lash again, but he didn’t fool her for a second. He had a heart, and she could imagine how he’d been hurt. Just then, Joseph frowned at her, and she sighed inwardly, wondering what she’d done now.

  Turning back to the group, she gasped when she discovered another person had joined them, explaining the silence, as it was a Dom she’d encountered earlier. And lucky her, she couldn’t remember his name, but the interest was clear in his rapacious gaze.

  “Little sub,” he said, smiling coldly as he lifted her hand from where it lay on the couch, “play with me.”

  Not a question. A demand.

  “No, thank you,” she said as she tugged at her hand ineffectually. Oh boy, she was going to give that jerk hell if he didn’t—

  Mona held up a hand to stop her from whatever she was about to do. “Mr. Hunter, Sir,” Mona said respectfully. “Bunny is Joseph’s guest in the club, as I mentioned earlier when you introduced yourself. Only he can release her to—”

  “Shut up, slut. I know the rules,” he ground out quietly, still gripping Bunny’s hand. His hands were soft on the palms and fingertips, cool and slightly clammy. “She’s coming with me, and we’ll check in with her Master before we play. Mind your own business.”

  Mona paid no attention to him and was half out of her seat, craning her neck, trying to get Randall’s attention. Bunny tried to turn her head to wave to Joseph, but Master Hunter grasped her by the knot of hair pinned up on the back of her head and lifted her out of her seat. A knifing pain shot through her neck as he twisted her hair, and the odd angle tweaked her neck. She cried out, unable to turn without further pain.

  “Red. Oh God, red,” she whispered as the pain increased. “Let me go, please. Red.”

  Hunter scowled at her. “You can’t safeword. We haven’t even agreed to the scene yet.”

  Robert got up from his seat beside Shae and put his hand on Master Hunter’s wrist. “She said ‘red,’ Sir. Release her. Can’t you see you’re harming her?”

  Master Hunter tightened his grip, and his agitation vibrated up his arm to her head, and she finally screamed. “Red!”

  She was seeing white spots when Joseph’s voice registered over the rush filling her ears. “What the devil is going on here, Hunter? Release her before I break your damned arm.”

  Hunter withdrew his hand without a care for where she landed, which thank goodness was in a pair of strong arms. Unfortunately, the movement sent another spasm through her already painful neck.

  “We were just coming to see you, Hazelle,” the Dom ground out in clipped syllables. “Your subs are in the habit of laying hands on a Dom? What kind of place are you running here?”

  “A place where they are supposed to feel safe and protected from behavior like what I just witnessed.” Joseph looked down at her, and she saw the apology and regret in his eyes. Glancing to the side, she realized it was Robert who was holding her cradled to his chest, flanked by Samson and Randall. “She has an old neck injury, Hunter. Your rough handling aggravated it.”

  “What the hell?” Hunter asked as he stood there staring. “Subs are supposed to be vetted for medical issues before they join the club.”

  Bunny held he
r neck as they placed her carefully on the couch once again, and she took a deep breath, attempting to relax. Tension would just cause another spasm.

  “Hunter, Miss Carrigan is my guest.”

  “I told him that, Sir,” Mona quietly said. “He did not have a green light from her when he grabbed her up by the hair. As a matter of fact, she turned him down.”

  “Then he called Mona a slut,” Bunny said, massaging her neck with her eyes closed. “I know name-calling doesn’t bother all subs, but she didn’t deserve it, the way he said it. She was protecting me.”

  Joseph squatted down to look into her eyes. “How do you feel?”

  “I need ibuprofen and a heating pad stat, Sir, but I’ll be okay. He mainly scared me. He’s not as nice as the others, and I really did turn him down.”

  “I believe you. I knew you had an old injury and probably should’ve kept you with me to avoid this.”

  “How could you anticipate some dickweed—whoa, I mean some Dom, totally some Dom—grabbing me by my hair.”

  Joseph grinned at her. “I’ll overlook your language this once because I can see the pain in your eyes. Mona, will you and the others escort Bunny to my seat? Her clothing is there, and she may put it back on.”

  “Sure, Sir,” Mona said, casting a glance around the audience they’d accumulated.

  Joseph turned to the errant Dom. “A word in private with you, Hunter. Now. Randall, I’m leaving you in charge of the club. Samson, would you gather the members of the advisory board who are in attendance tonight and join us in my office?”

  Chapter Nine

  At the end of the evening, Joseph walked with Bunny down the corridor leading to his suite. He’d had a heating pad fetched for her after the incident with Hunter, which she’d said would help. Bravely, she’d insisted she would be all right, but he’d noticed, every time a movement caused her to cringe, guilt had twisted his gut. Allowing her to explore on her own had seemed the best way for her to learn. Of course he’d trusted that none of the dominant club members would behave so callously.

  Of all the Doms in the club, Martin Hunter was not one he’d wanted her tangling with. A recent transplant from another club, whose manager had given him a stellar recommendation, he’d been allowed onto the rosters with little concern. That was about to change, though.

  “What did you say to that Dom who grabbed me?” Bunny asked, tentatively biting her lip.

  He’d caught sight of Hunter as he approached her, not terribly concerned because the Hazelle House Dominant members knew how to take no as an answer. Few people enjoyed rejection, but even Joseph had been shocked when Hunter had suddenly sunken his fingers into her hair and jerked her from her seat, an action that wouldn’t have happened if he’d kept her at his side.

  Even more disturbing, the vulnerable sight she’d made in her lacy bra and panties had set off the territorial beast inside him. He’d wanted to pound on Hunter for causing her harm and berated himself for not being close enough to stop Hunter in time.

  “Sir?”

  He stopped suddenly, realizing she was a few steps behind him.

  Smiling, he returned to her and took her hand in his. “I apologize. My thoughts are distracting me. Hunter has been relieved of his membership.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “The senior advisory board members were all in attendance this evening. He was ejected by a unanimous vote.”

  “Holy cow. Are you mad at me?”

  “Mad?” he asked in surprise as they took the first flight of stairs.

  “Well, Hazelle House is a business, and I cost you a membership tonight.”

  He shook his head. “No, Hunter cost himself the membership. And trust me, losing a member won’t even be noticeable on my spreadsheet. And I’d take a small hit rather than risk him damaging my reputation down the road. You haven’t created a financial burden in any way. I’m just glad you’re all right.”

  “Me, too. A hospital visit isn’t in my budget right now.”

  “I would’ve covered that cost, too. Are you in need of the ER? I can take you.”

  She shook her head a little gingerly and smiled, pointing at her neck. “No, I’m okay. The heating pad and painkiller did the trick. I need to make an appointment with my massage therapist.”

  “I’d be happy to cover that cost as well.”

  “No, I can take care of myself, Sir. I’d tell you if it was more serious. I hate that I ruined the night with all the drama.”

  “You didn’t. Are you planning to tell me how you got this ‘old’ injury?”

  “If you’re not the least bit worried about losing what is essentially a customer, what if he makes up stories about your establishment for getting kicked out?”

  He let her evasion of his question go, again. It was just a sign he still had work to do in gaining her complete trust. She’d tell him when she was ready.

  “Not unless he wants to end up in court. He signed a non-disclosure agreement.”

  That gave her pause. “Oh. Well…I haven’t signed one of those yet.”

  Noting she’d evidently consider it, he said, “No, but you will if you join the club.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yes, as my sub,” he said as he opened the door to his suite.

  She put up a hand but didn’t look as if she planned to run back downstairs. “I don’t know you well enough yet to agree to something like that.”

  “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, fiammetta. Come inside?”

  She stood on the threshold, biting her lip as he extended a hand to her, making it clear from this point forward that everything was her choice.

  She followed him inside, brave girl.

  Samson Cutter’s words rang in his ears. Would he allow competition for her attention? Not likely. He didn’t share with any man, not even a close friend.

  “Can I make you something to drink?” he asked as he set her up on the couch and plugged in the heating pad at a nearby outlet. He was worried she might have pain in the coming days, and he felt bad again for not acting faster when he’d first seen Hunter approaching her. He should’ve known.

  “Do you have any cocoa up here?” she asked with a good-natured grin. “The boxed instant stuff is fine.”

  He licked his lips and chuckled. “Sorry, no cocoa. I can make you a hot toddy, though.” He made a mental note to ask Mrs. Hernandez to add cocoa to her next shopping list.

  Cocking an eyebrow at him, she said, “Irish coffee?”

  “Sure,” he said, patting her knee. Handing her the remote, he said, “Thumb through the satellite music channels and find a channel you like.”

  “I get to pick the mood music? Awesome!” she said, quickly pressing buttons on the universal remote for the home theater system.

  “I need you up here at night to help me figure out that remote,” he said, hiding the smile that thought brought to his face as he entered the kitchen.

  “It’s easy. I can show you again.”

  I want you to show me everything. Now, how best to go about it?

  He was in the kitchen, brewing a pot of coffee for her hot drink when he heard her squeal happily. “Yes! Sing it, Eric!” Her enthusiasm was contagious.

  “You can turn it up if you like,” he called.

  It was a country and western song, one he wasn’t familiar with. The only country and western music he ever heard was the stuff they played at the Dancing Pony, one of his favorite places away from home. He’d expected Bunny to choose popular dance music, like she’d danced to with Mona and the other subs on the dance floor of the club a little earlier in the evening before Hunter had manhandled her.

  He listened to the words, and a smile crossed his lips. “What’s this called?” he hollered.

  “‘Like a Wrecking Ball,’ by Eric Church.”

  The song had a good beat, and as he listened to it, he began to pick out another voice as she sang along with it. His suite, his private space within his home, had never been graced
with such warmth, such animation as she brought to it. Her soft alto voice blended with the singer’s, and he strained to pick out her sultry, honeyed tones and burned himself with the hot coffee.

  “Damn it,” he muttered, reaching for the dishtowel to clean up the mess.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked, appearing around the corner, her turquoise eyes big with concern as he mopped up the hot spill. “Did you burn yourself?”

  “Yes. I wasn’t paying attention.” Just out of curiosity, he held his burned finger out to her across the countertop.

  With no hesitation, she leaned against the counter, and he thought she would kiss his finger, but instead, she opened her mouth and took his tingling digit between her lips, surprising the hell out of him.

  But you’re not submissive, are you? No, not at all.

  Her tongue was silky and hot on the pad of his index finger as she stroked it and then sucked lightly before kissing it and smiling at him. “Better?” The blue-green rims of her irises narrowed, and her eyes dilated as she licked her lower lip.

  “Better.” Perfect.

  When she’d spilled wine on his hand the night they’d eaten in the kitchen together, he’d imagined her lapping the wine from his fingers and his palm. She’d asked what he was thinking then, but he hadn’t elaborated because she wasn’t ready. Still too nervous and unsure. She hadn’t hesitated at all just now, and there was no trace of nerves in her posture.

  “I’m messing up your nightly routine, aren’t I?”

  “Not at all. You’re a lovely distraction.”

  She looked down at the black-and-gold mottled granite countertop and traced a vein of copper in it with a neatly cropped nail. Her hips swayed to the tune, and he nearly burned himself again, as he was mesmerized by the motion, before finally paying attention to mixing her beverage for her.

  “You should sit back down with the heating pad. I’ll bring your drink in just a minute.”

 

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