His Untamed Love

by Anya Summers

  Her fingers, clasped at his neck, were threaded through the thick strands of his soft hair. Her face was buried in the crook of his neck and she watched the corded muscles ripple with movements as he carried her. Her mouth was close enough that she could taste him if she was more confident. And she wanted to, she wanted to flick her tongue out and discover what his skin tasted like. She wanted to rub her cheek along his close-cropped beard as she kissed his skin. Her grip tightened around his neck and she tried to squeeze her thighs together at the pooling heat in her sex. She refrained, but just barely. The man was potent and alluring. He tripped all the bad boy sensors that she hadn’t realized she had, and made her want to take a walk on the wild side.

  From the way he carried himself, Mia knew that sex with Cole would be wild and unfettered by any civilized restraints. He was this smoldering, hunk of confident alpha and the way he took charge, didn’t give her a moment to refuse, and just did as he saw fit, made her want to melt into him.

  At her cabin, Cole ushered her inside and set her gently down on the couch. She relinquished her hold on him grudgingly. But then his hands were running over her legs.

  She sputtered, “What are you doing?”

  “First, I’m taking your boots off. And then I’m going to help get your leg muscles to relax a bit.” He unzipped her riding boots and slid them off before she could protest. Not that she would, or that she even wanted to as Cole rubbed his big, working man’s hands over her calves, kneading the muscles.

  She moaned in the back of her throat as his hands encountered a particularly tight cluster.

  But she didn’t lower her gaze from his. Mia felt like she was in a trance as she watched him. The man had exceptionally skilled hands. Not that she would have expected anything less. They seemed to know how to do all manner of jobs, from fixing fuse boxes to fishing to caring for horses and her. He seemed to know precisely how to take care of her.

  Her blood heated with his every deft touch. He knelt before her on the floor, his broad shoulders flexing with his movements. When his hands traveled up above her knees and began massaging her thighs, she was surprised she didn’t melt into a puddle at his rather large, booted feet.

  She leaned forward, wanting—needing—more contact, her gaze focused on his lips. Yet he pulled back.

  “Give yourself a minute for the blood to flow back into the muscles and then we’ll see if you can stand. I’ll get a fire started for you. It’s supposed to get colder tonight, and you’ll want the extra warmth.” He withdrew from her and she shivered. It felt like she’d lost the sun.

  Mia nodded mutely. Cole stood and strode over to the fireplace. She watched him work. He was going above and beyond. Again.

  “So do you do this for all your guests?” she asked, her voice husky and breathy even to her own ears. She wanted to stem the flood of emotions thundering through her body if he was always this solicitous.

  “No,” he said, turning back toward her.

  Pleasure seeped into her chest as she watched him work to get a fire going. He was doing all of this for her. Mia didn’t know why. And she didn’t want to know. What if he was doing it because he felt sorry for her? She could withstand a lot, but having Cole pity her would be the worst.

  Once he had a fire dancing merrily, he rose and walked back over to her and held out his hand. “Let’s see how those legs of yours are doing.”

  Without hesitation she accepted his hand. Her muscles protested the movement. As she stood, her knees wobbled. Her thighs quivered, and her calves strained.

  She couldn’t stop the groan she emitted. She wobbled on her feet and expelled a pained hiss. Cole grasped her biceps.

  “Steady,” he murmured, his gaze assessing her. He was so intent and mindful of her every flicker of pain, every flash of unease. He made her feel. Feel something that wasn’t mind-numbing panic and throat-closing anxiety.

  Mia didn’t think. She acted. She leaned into his warmth and his heat, lifting her head up slightly, and pressed her lips to his. A bolt of lightning struck through her system at the contact.

  She brushed against his mouth. His beard grazed her chin. And she kissed him. Because she wanted him, this cowboy mountain man who rode horses as if it was second nature. Who cared for her when no one else gave her a second thought. Who held her as if she mattered.

  And, for a moment, she needed his strength and his confidence, hoping to absorb some of it. She craved him. Craved the chance to touch the burning embers she’d spied in the black depths of his eyes.

  Cole didn’t move, his body still as a statue. And then he issued a guttural groan. His hands cupped her face as he delved his tongue inside to tangle with hers in a heated duel. Her hands slid to his chest and gripped his shirt, pulling him closer.

  She wanted all of him. She wanted to touch the flame that was Cole Stewart and see if it burned. She wanted to trace her hands over the wealth of rock hard muscles she’d spied the other day. She wanted to be bold and daring, and experience a night of torrid ecstasy in his arms.

  Mia whimpered, needy for more. Her fingers fumbled over the buttons of his flannel shirt. Then he lifted his mouth from hers and his hands grabbed hers, disentangling them from his shirt.

  “No, Mia,” he said, his face grim. He took a step back and put distance between them.

  “I don’t understand.” She could tell he wanted her, if the firm bulge in his jeans was anything to go by. It didn’t make sense that he was shoving her away.

  “Nothing can happen between us,” Cole declared stonily.

  “But… why? I want you and you want me, so… oh God, you’re married or engaged or something.” The heat drained out of her face. It would be something she would do. Fall for a guy who was unavailable. Wait, who said she had fallen for him?

  “No. It’s not like that. I’m a Dominant, Mia. I need a woman who is submissive, and I don’t dally with virgins,” he explained, his face shuttered and all the prior warmth now absent.

  “But I’m not a virgin.”

  “You are when it comes to the lifestyle. You’re a beautiful woman, Mia. And while I might want you, I won’t touch you,” he said, his voice suffused with regret.

  She flinched, then wrapped her arms in front of herself defensively. How could he want her, kiss her like that, and then say no? She didn’t understand.

  “You might want to consider making use of that tub of yours with some Epsom salt to help any lingering tenderness in your legs. I’ll see myself out,” he said, then tipped his hat in her direction.

  Mia stood rooted to the spot as he walked out of her cabin. He wanted her but wouldn’t touch her? That was the most asinine logic she’d ever heard. And just what the hell did he mean when he said that he was a Dominant and needed a submissive?

  She couldn’t seem to wrap her brain around this one. He wanted her… but could put such a cold distance up between them. She had to get to the bottom of this, the bottom of him, because then maybe his rejection wouldn’t feel like an arrow piercing her chest.

  Chapter 10

  The next two days sped by in a bit of a blur for Mia because, wonder of wonders, she was writing. And not just journaling, although she did do some of that as well. After researching what a Dominant was, which left her blushing to the tips of her toes, a niggling idea for her hero stampeded into her mind. It was so vivid, she could practically waltz into the world and take a look around.

  So she’d written. Quite a bit, in fact. For forty-eight hours, she’d poured images from her psyche and muse—who’d been silent as a tomb for months and suddenly roared back to life—onto the page. She wrote until her fingers and back ached. Until her eyes were blurry from fatigue and crossing from staring at the computer screen for such a long length of time.

  She only stopped for short naps and to eat, not wanting to break up the steady stream of information humming in her brain.

  It was only in the wee hours of the night, as she exchanged a hot cup of tea for the one that had gone cold, o
r added a new log to the fire to keep the chill out, that Mia allowed herself to think about Cole and his revelation. She’d done an Internet search on the word Dominant and had been treated to an interesting side of the world wide web.

  He’d also mentioned the word lifestyle. As she researched, she discovered it was a term used by people who practiced BDSM—or bondage, dominance, submission, and masochism. While she’d been honest when she’d said she wasn’t a virgin, that would only be in the technical sense, because after what she’d learned, the lifestyle made her feel like a babe in the woods staring at the big bad wolf.

  And the problem was, she wasn’t turned off by it. She might have rolled her eyes at some of it, or thought; Ew, that gets you all hot and bothered? But when Mia researched a topic, she didn’t dip her toes in the end of the pool and call it a day. It was one of the reasons history fascinated her so much, she could pick a topic and go down the proverbial rabbit hole with every new thing she discovered.

  From what she’d learned, Dominants needed to be in control of a scene or any kind of sexual interaction with their partner. It was a power exchange with a submissive, where a submissive granted the Dominant control over them physically and, at times, mentally. This could extend to bondage and other things like caning or using a flogger.

  Mia had to admit she was intrigued. Could she give someone control over her body? Trust another person enough to take care of her and not harm her?

  If it was Cole, yes.

  The man hadn’t thought twice about jumping into the stream to save her life.

  Anyone else, likely not. And wasn’t that just the crux of her problem? The man she wanted wouldn’t touch her.

  It was Sunday afternoon and a bright, crisp spring day. Mia figured the best way around her problems was to walk and see which revelations broke through the fog. Her time outdoors appeared to be a key to breaking through her writer’s block.

  As much as she had always been an indoor girl, perhaps Cole was right. Spending time outside, allowing nature to soothe her soul, was slowly chipping away at her anxiety and despair. Mia felt lighter and more at peace than she had in years. Maybe her idea for shaking up her world had been right on target.

  She headed out in midafternoon, while the sun was at its perigee. A brisk hike on the nearest trail would work out the kinks in her body. With her book finally reshaping itself and a potential end in sight, she pondered Cole’s no touching policy.

  She was of two minds about the situation. One, that she should take him at his word and leave it alone. If the man was going to be this difficult, or push her away and hold her at arm’s length, she shouldn’t waste her time. However, on the flipside, there was a part of her that yearned to be the sole focus of his universe. Even if it was only for a night. She’d come here for adventure and to enjoy life for a change. Wouldn’t being with Cole, experiencing the wild tempest of his lovemaking, be the epitome of turning her world on its end? Would she regret never knowing him? Or would she let fear continue to dominate her life?

  She didn’t have an answer. So instead she looked over the cliff into the abyss and hesitated.

  Mia inhaled a deep breath. Her feet plodded along the path. The hum of insects buzzed in the brush. Birds chittered as she passed. And she realized she was smiling and, wonder of wonders, happy. Like, deep in the bone happy. It was this place. She liked it here; the land, the wilderness. Wyoming was beautiful and vast. The air carried a hint of pine. It was warmer today than it had been all week long. Warm enough for Mia to remove her jacket and tie it about her waist.

  Her pace brisk, she made good time. Judging her steps on the pedometer feature on her watch, she hit two miles one way and then decided to turn back. Maybe tonight she would splurge and eat in the Elkhorn Restaurant. It wasn’t that she was tired of her own company, she was just tired of cooking for herself. Besides, it might be good to stay out for a bit longer and perhaps interact with other humans.

  Which was odd. Back home, she was all for being the crazy hermit lady in the penthouse apartment. But here, she wanted to interact with other people. Okay, so mainly she wanted to interact with Cole. She wanted to go to the restaurant and perhaps casually run into him so they could talk. And she really did want to have someone else cook for her.

  This week she’d have to make a run into town and stock up her little fridge. Perhaps do the tourist thing. The idea had merit. Mia normally sat in the background and let life pass by without her. It was a new feeling for her, deciding to plunge in and not think about the consequences. Just to enjoy.

  Which brought her to the elephant of the hour. What did she want to do about Cole? Could she learn to be a submissive? Could she do that, let him order her about during sex? At the throb in her pussy, she knew that she could. The thought of Cole telling her what to do, taking away her free will, taking the pressure and anxiety she always felt in intimate situations off her shoulders, giving them to him and experiencing pleasure as he dictated, stirred her in ways she wasn’t prepared for.

  And was that why she felt such a conundrum?

  She had about a half a mile to go before she reached the main hub of the resort property. Here the grass was tall and lined the dirt path that was about five feet wide. The path was used for hikers and for the horse trails. She’d been in her own little world, contemplating the sky when she heard it.

  A fast-paced rat-ta-tat-tat-tat.

  Mia drew up short at the coiled rattlesnake sunning itself in the path. It spied her. The beady black eyes on the diamond-shaped head glared with menace. She stumbled back, watching her step while keeping an eye on the tan body decorated with darker brown geometric patterns over its skin.

  What the hell was she supposed to do? She paced far enough away that she could still see the snake. But she wasn’t petrified that it would strike at her and chase after her—not from this distance, at least. She was a good hundred feet away. At least, she figured that was far enough. Maybe she should have researched the wild animals in the area more.

  Mia wrung her hands and walked away from the rattlesnake, her gaze on the nearby bushes, looking for more slithery surprises. And then she turned and marched back up the path, thinking perhaps it had just been crossing the path and they’d both surprised each other.

  But nope.

  Damn thing was hanging out on the path like he owned it. And when the creature spied her, it lifted its pointy head, daring her with its tail, letting her know that if she came any closer, she would regret it.

  Mia sprinted away down the trail until her side ached and she stopped. She braced her hands on her knees. The sun had begun its nightly decent, hovering above the western span of mountains and creating a colorful menagerie.

  She wondered if this path circled around and how much time she had before the sun set. It was already near five. But she was hungry, and she had to pee. And with that thing blocking her way, the last thing she wanted to do was try and pee in the bush. Not with the way her luck was shaping up.

  She was still trying to decide what to do—and failing—when the clip clop of horse’s hooves clomping against the dirt reached her ears. She straightened and looked west. From around a slight bend in the trail, a horse and rider emerged. The setting sun created a golden halo around the cowboy. She knew who it was the moment she spied him. Cole sat atop a horse with such confident grace, it was like he and the stallion were psychically connected.

  He made a picture with the setting sun at his back, his broad shoulders framed in his leather coat. The black Stetson crowned his head and his long, thickly hewn legs were in blue jeans, directing the stallion with a slight press of his knees.

  Horse and rider trotted toward her as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

  “Problem?” Cole asked, his gaze raking over her form. She felt her nipples perk up under his perusal.

  Crossing her arms protectively in front of herself, she said, “Little bit. There’s a rattlesnake on the path ahead, blocking the way. And I don’t know what
to do.”

  He huffed and held out a hand. “Come on up with me, I’ll get you past it.”

  “What? On the horse?” she asked, her pulse revving at the thought.

  “Yep.”

  “No. There has to be another way around it.” She still hadn’t made a decision about what she wanted to do about him. And if she got close to him, things would happen. She couldn’t seem to help herself where he was concerned. The last solution she wanted for her current problem was to ride the horse with him.

  Even when the thought of it made heat swirl in her belly—so much so, she had to clench her thighs together. She blurted, “There has to be another way. What about the trail? If I follow it around, will it loop back?”

  Please let there be another way.

  Cole thoughtfully regarded her from his perch. With his gaze never leaving hers, he said, “It does. But if you plan to go that way, I suggest you hurry. It’s about a six mile round trip. And it’s going to get dark long before you make it back. And once night falls, you won’t just have to worry about snakes.”

  “Six miles.” She scanned the trail behind him, trying to calculate how much time there was before the sun set. She would never make it back. And all she had was her cell phone to light her way. Before she could scurry away or come to a decision of any kind, Cole intervened.

  Exasperation laced his voice. “Mia, come here. You’ll be fine with me. Do you trust me?”

  The problem was she did trust him. It was her ability to keep her hands off him she was worried about. Except, she didn’t see a way around accepting his help. That meant riding him—er, his horse with him on it. Dammit, she had to gain control of herself. With a deep breath, she said, “How do I do this?”

  “Oreo, still,” he commanded. The horse froze in place and was so still, it could have been a statue. Even the stallion’s tail stopped swishing. Cole swung himself out of the saddle with that lion-like grace of his and the slow burn in her belly spread to her limbs. He was walking, talking sex on a stick. His hand cupped her elbow and towed her over to the horse. All her reluctance at being near him vanished the moment he touched her, even when the touch was innocent. Then Cole lifted her up and helped her mount Oreo. The stallion was a good foot taller than her mare, Morning Glory, had been. The horse barely seemed to notice her weight atop him.