by M. C. Cerny
When I finished, I sat in the living room back on the couch and in front of the fire Sloan produced with the flick of a fancy wall switch. Despite the rustic look, the house had all the creature comforts imaginable. He’d explained the beautiful windows I’d admired earlier were designed so we could look outside but the mirror coating prevented people from looking inside. It was a strange feeling seeing everything and knowing anyone on the outside couldn’t be a voyeur.
My thoughts drifted toward the next day when Sloan finally reemerged from somewhere in the house. He came around the couch to stand directly in front of me buck-ass naked. The firelight danced on his caramel skin, highlighting all his dips and male curves. He wasn’t kidding about everything out here being bigger.
I tried looking anywhere but at his impressive length that was hardening before my eyes to rest at attention against his belly that caved inward from his abdominal muscles and ridges.
Sloan crowded me in on the couch, leaning over me to speak. “Strip, Langley.” He leaned back, waiting, watching me. Well, this was unexpected.
I stood up and backed myself nervously away from him, heading toward the fire. Warmth licked at the back of my legs, reminding me of his touch earlier that slowly ascended up my legs.
“Did we suddenly join a nudist colony?” Changing the subject didn’t seem to deter him as his head dipped down, and he looked me over.
Sloan looked as though he was close to cracking a smile. “Langley, a master doesn’t repeat himself. Now strip or I’ll do it for you.”
His body looked like he belonged in a museum—hard and smooth like marble. Despite his order to strip, I wanted to touch him and see if his skin was truly as smooth as it looked in the light of the fire. He cleared his throat, and I stood straighter and taller with the fire cracking and popping behind me.
“Any preference of where I should start?”
His eyes narrowed, heady with desire, and I licked my lips as I nodded. He clearly wasn’t going to be directing this show.
“Okay then,” I said, reaching down to untie my gold sandals to remove those first. I kicked them away in his direction.
He crossed his arms, looking impatient, and a sly thought crossed my mind. I reached behind my back, watching his eyes go wide thinking my dress was next. Instead I unhooked the bra and pulled the straps down slipping them off my arms and dragging the lace through grazing my breasts. The lace scratched against my nipples hardening them. I wasn’t sure who was more affected by that, but I snapped the bra out, and it flew, smacking him in the chest.
Sloan grunted and I cursed.
“Shit.”
“Langley Elizabeth Dawson. I ought to spank you for your language.”
I rolled my eyes and his narrowed making me wince. I knew once I was done stripping, he would probably torture me with some kind of orgasm denial I had researched this past week waiting for him to pick me up.
“Right, sorry.” I looked anywhere but at his face as I shimmied my lace panties down my legs under the dress. Attempting some kind of sexy move, I tossed them.
Sloan covered his mouth this time, barking out a laugh, and looked around seeing the pale peach lace hanging off the tip of the steer horn.
“Damn it, that’s awkward,” I muttered. There was little hope of getting out of a punishment now, and Sloan shook his head seeming to enjoy himself at my expense.
My lips smacked, and my hands went to my hips before I growled, “Oh what, like that’s never happened before?” I flipped my hand up.
“No darlin’, you must be the lucky one. Now get that dress up and over your head.”
I huffed out air, emptying my chest as I pulled the dress up and over, tossing it on the chair next to me.
“Happy now, master?” My hands crossed over my very naked and pebbled breasts, the tips aching as my arms covered them. Sloan merely wagged his head back and forth looking disapprovingly. Good because this was awkward as hell for me.
“Come here you little spitfire,” he rumbled before hauling me up against his naked body. Heat suffused through my body, and his rod pressed against my belly, pre-cum smearing me from the tip.
“Is this the part where you take me like a caveman?”
“Oh, I’m going to take you all right.” He picked me up and maneuvered me down before the fire, our bodies inching slowly to the soft carpet near the grate and warm flames.
When our knees touched he pushed me back, and I landed on my butt. I was going to say something cheeky, but the look in his eyes stopped my words. The fire reflected in them and a hunger seemed to take over. I leaned on my back, and he crawled over me pushing my legs apart.
I wanted this. Oh God, how I wanted this. Sloan devoured me with his eyes, and I submitted under his penetrating stare. His hands rested near my head, his body between my spread legs and raised knees hovering above me.
“Does my pretty girl know how to ask for what she wants?”
His voice gave me chills in anticipation. My heart fluttered leaving me faint in the heat of the room and warmth of his skin so achingly close to mine.
“Please, sir. Please make me yours.” Biting down on my bottom lip, unsure in my demureness, my fingers reached out touching the thick ridge of his shoulders. We hadn’t established what I would call him, and I cursed myself for falling asleep in the truck. I had so many questions but none seemed important right here in the moment.
Sloan pressed forward, his member rigid and heavy against my damp petals. He leaned his forehead into my neck and positioned himself at my wet entrance. “You’re wet,” he said, and I smiled. I kissed his cheek with a lick of my tongue.
“For you, master. Only you.” My words seemed to excite him as he pressed the head of his thick cock inside me in a slow steady press of flesh against flesh. Thoughts evaporated from my head, my sole concentration on the feel of him sliding inside me. The bulbous head breached my lips below moving deeply. My hips rose to meet him as if his cock could kiss my cervix in a gentle press he bottomed out within.
That was my only respite.
“This is how I want you, Langley.” Sloan pulled back and slammed in, making me shift upward against the carpet. “I’m not usually so gentle but you do something to me. I don’t know what it is.” He was rougher then, and my legs widened to give his hips the room to move.
“Give it to me. I’ll take it. I can take it,” I reassured him, lying compliant until the stirrings of an orgasm hit me on the second thrust, and I met him one after another.
“I know you’ll take it,” he said as we moved in tandem. Heat blossomed within me not related to the fire next to us, and beads of sweat tickled me between my breasts.
“Uh. Sloan. Sir.” I was going to come. I didn’t know what rules there were about that, but I didn’t care with the wave rushing over me.
He leaned down, licking between my breasts, his hot mouth covering my nipple in a hard suck that seemed to drain my soul from my chest. I would have given him anything he asked in that moment if he let me come.
“Please, please, please,” I begged for my release. Sloan gave it to me, grinding his hips into mine, coarsely rubbing my pubic bone setting off a deep ripple of energy within.
“This is how I want you. Wild abandon begging me to let you come.” He slapped against me in rough strokes, his ball sac heavy and hitting me below.
We grunted, coming at the same time, Sloan shooting off inside me bare, his load heavy within. I’d never done that before, but with him it felt right. We had talked about it. Probably one of the few things we actually discussed, and I was okay with him being inside me unprotected.
A part of me understood his need for control, to dictate his desires as he was fulfilling my own needs. I liked that. I wanted that, and I felt like we were well matched. He could order me to kneel, and I would do it to feel that drugging pleasure again as my heart slowly returned to its normal cadence. I would crawl, following him everywhere for the next thirty days because I knew it would please him as
much as I craved to please him.
We lay silently in front of the fire until our skin grew cold from dried sweat, my head pillowed on his chest, fingers running through my hair rhythmically, drawing me further down the rabbit hole.
I dozed maybe a few minutes more before I felt him pick me up and carry me to a bedroom I hadn’t seen before. He pulled the covers back and laid me within the downy blankets before joining me on the other side. His body curled protectively around mine, pulling me under his arms, and for the first time in a long while, I was happy.
9
Sloan
I wanted to sleep in with Langley, but chores around the ranch didn’t get themselves done on their own despite the ranch hands and Stella working for me. As expected, I was up before the sun, my internal clock rousing me despite my wishes to rest longer. My eyes felt full of grit I rubbed out and my muscles pleasantly sore from our time in front of the fire. Her gentle cries still echoed in my head, a record of pleasure fulfilled playing over and over, making me smile.
Rolling over, I eased out from under her and gave myself a moment to drink in her loveliness. Her face rested easy against the pillows. Her warm and sleepy body reminded me of a tawny-colored kitten who lived in our barn growing up. My mother named her Luchadora, a rough translation from Spanish meaning feisty. That was Langley. My pretty girl had this unexpected fire that came out when I least expected it. I sensed she was often at war with herself to let go and simply exist in the moment. I didn’t know what held her back, maybe her upbringing or a bad past relationship. It didn’t matter now because she was here, and I had plans for Langley.
My shower was quick under the hot spray as I scrubbed my skin clean. I dressed in jeans and a buttoned flannel, my typical attire at home. I set up the closet with more cotton and lace dresses for Langley. Pretty things. Delicate things. My hands lingered on one in particular, pale blue cotton with white lace. I pulled it off the hanger and left it on the chair next to the bed. I had no doubt Miss Langley would roll her eyes in the confines of the room when dressing. I had removed all the underwear from the room. After last night, I didn’t want to get whipped with it should she remove it. Her hesitancy before giving in was cute. In another woman, I would have set out to break her of that habit, but with Langley it seemed enchanting and an integral part of her personality. I wasn’t looking to romanticize this arrangement in the least, but again, it was one more thing Langley seemed to be doing in me that I hadn’t planned on.
She made me laugh, a nearly impossible feat most days with my mind occupied on the ranch and Blackjack’s studding. I was quickly learning that Langley’s humor was a mixture of her awkward naivety and sarcasm. Definitely not a trained submissive. I could leave her special assignments, readings, and websites to explore, so she could better define her hard and soft limits, but I wasn’t so quick to mold her as I might have been with other women. I didn’t have words to describe it, so I ignored it for the time being.
Stella would say Langley was good for me once she got over the whole arrangement of things. Stella wasn’t big on the company I brought out to the ranch except maybe Lorand, but he stayed in the bunk house and worked the ranch. My female companions were removed from that, and I guessed only time would tell.
“Good morning, Mr. Tanner.” Stella busied herself cooking at the stove top. Eggs fried and bacon crisped in the pan filling the room with smells that made my mouth water. Hot coffee waited on the counter for my mug.
“Good morning, Stella.” I poured the coffee waiting for the inquisition.
“I see the new girl is here. No waiting on this one, eh?” She flipped the fried egg and caught the toast popping out of the toaster and placed it on my plate.
“Her name in Langley and she’s a nice girl, Stella.” My housekeeper could be a little protective, and after the last one, I couldn’t blame her.
She waved her spatula at me disapprovingly. “You said that about the last one. I’ll wait and see.”
I grunted. She would make up her mind on her own without my help. Langley’s shy and unassuming personality would win her over quickly.
Instead of directly addressing her concerns, I said, “I’m taking Blackjack out for a ride. I plan to be back by lunchtime to eat with Langley.”
“Is this a skins or shirts kind of lunch?” I nearly choked on Stella’s words. She continued cooking as if asking if I planned to keep Langley naked inside the house was a normal question. She was half right, but I didn’t give her the satisfaction of answering. Those games would be played another time.
“She has clothes in the closet I left for her. If she chooses to wear them it’s her decision.” It wasn’t my fault an overly extroverted sub from last year took to nudism during her month here. Langley would be plenty naked later. No sense in starting out that way and scaring my staff who would be reminded of their banishment from the house after today unless I required them. Stella had another kitchen she could cook in at the bunk house.
“I’ll leave the princess her breakfast on the warmer when she decides to get up.” Stella made her a full plate, and I relished not being here for their first meeting. Langley could handle her on her own. She seemed less skittish when I wasn’t in her space. Stella was gruff, but I bet she would warm up, taking Langley’s side before the week was out.
“I left her boots in the hall. If she wishes to find me, I’ll be in the barn with the horses,” I said, planting my Stetson on my head and taking my travel mug of coffee with me outside.
Reaching the barn, I found Jose Cologne, my barn manager, pacing back and forth.
“Jose, what’s going on?”
“It’s that damn horse again,” he said in his lilting Spanish accent that reminded me of my mother—God rest her soul.
“What’s happened?”
“Blackjack kicked out another set of boards from his stall. We have him set away from the mares and the other horses but he’s got a mean streak a mile wide.”
“Was anyone injured?”
“Just Pete. I had Conner drive him to the clinic next town over to get checked out. Nothing broken but damn animal yanked the lead so hard we left him in the stall for now.”
“Thanks, I’ll take him out.” I walked up to Blackjack’s stall, and the horse was pacing inside. He was ready to breed but it wasn’t time. He was overly eager as expected and with little patience. I could understand his plight.
“Easy boy,” I crooned to my horse. “Let’s get you outside before you cause a shit storm in here and scare my staff off.” I got the lead around him, stroking his silky coat. His skin visibly vibrated under my palm. He pranced and fought the lead right up to the pasture gate. I opened it wide and set him free inside. He bucked and gamboled back and forth over the grass. I watched him, thinking about a certain filly back at the house that was equally as feisty as my stallion.
10
Langley
My bare feet padded over the radiant, heated flooring inside the house, toes curled against the Spanish adobe tiles that matched the southwest theme despite the modern finishes throughout. The soft cotton of my lacy, blue calico sundress skirted the edges of my upper thighs, leaving me dangerously bare should Sloan come looking for me. Each step made the bareness between my legs sensitive. I couldn’t find underwear anywhere inside the dressers or the closet of the bedroom. I had to shake my head at Sloan’s deception. Apparently when he’d said he would provide for me, he neglected underthings.
Smells in the kitchen pulled me out of the bedroom. I expected to see him this morning when I woke but he was gone, the only indication of his presence the indentation of the pillow next to mine and his scent in the linens.
“Good morning, Miss Langley.” A woman stood in the kitchen, her back to me as she continued cooking and cleaning.
“Uh, hello?” I said, suddenly feeling barer in my dress than before. Sitting on the stool at the bar counter was difficult given how short my dress was, and I cursed Sloan for that.
“I made you
some breakfast.” She placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of me with a freshly poured cup of coffee. She continued cleaning, and I took a bite of the food which was delicious. “I’m Stella. I’m the housekeeper and cook but you won’t see me unless you need me after today. Mr. Tanner is pretty specific about that with his ladies in the house.”
I paused in my next bite, thinking over how she said “ladies” as in plural. Sloan was completely upfront with me, telling me that he’d done this before. I guess I hadn’t really thought about what that meant precisely or how many others had come before me.
“Have you been here long?” I asked.
Stella glanced over her shoulder at me and then came to the counter.
“Since he was a boy.”
“Really?” This intrigued me. She ought to know a bit about him, and maybe I could glean more from her than the basics of hot rancher who came to Karim once a month for banking—seemed like there should be more about him than that. Stella resumed her cleaning and humming, and I finished eating thinking over how I might ask those questions.
“You’ll find Mr. Tanner out in the barn. Shoes by the door and lunch will be prepared by one.” My unasked questions were obviously deflected as she changed the subject and pointed down the hall, slinging the dish towel over her shoulder. “He’ll be answering any questions you have around here.”
Stella left out the door off the kitchen which I assumed led back to wherever she was staying. So much for learning more about Sloan Tanner.
As Stella instructed, I found a pair of new boots by the front door with socks that pulled up, so a bit of lace peeked out from the top. No underwear here either, and I did my best to pull the dress down, making sure I wouldn’t embarrass myself with anyone else on the ranch. A matching hat in dark brown rested on the side table, and seeing the bright sun, I plopped it on my head as I walked outside in the direction of the barn looking for my host.