Surrendering to the Mountain Man

by Asha Daniels

  He bit his lower lip. “Reynolds. My name is William Razer Reynolds.” He tipped his head, gauging my reaction, as if I’d heard the name before. “My father thought the middle name was perfect for his little boy. Well, Daddy, I’ve lived up to my name.”

  “Sounds familiar.” But from where?

  “I’m certain it does.” He held the glass to his lips, shaking his head.

  “Megan Wallace. My father is Gabriel Wallace the third of Wallace Industries. The name should be Wallace Destruction Company.” Did I actually hear a slight gasp coming from his mouth? I snapped my head, trying to read his expression. “No one really knows them other than the people he’s targeting. But trust me, he’s dangerous.” The grip he had on his glass was white knuckled, his hand shaking. “Do you know them?”

  “No. I’m just angry for you.”

  “That makes two of us.” He wasn’t telling me the truth.

  After a few additional minutes, he climbed to his feet, walking toward the kitchen. He was such a complicated man, brooding and full of secrets. Weren’t we all? I took another sip of wine. I’d be forced to develop a game plan tomorrow.

  I heard him padding toward me and looked up. He’d refilled his glass. He’d also removed his shirt. In his hand was… I strained to see. A pair of scissors and a comb. “What are you doing?”

  “You said you could cut hair.”

  “I… I said maybe.” Was he seriously contemplating allowing me to cut his hair? I was shaking all over, but not from fear of messing up some grand design. He’d made a decision. He was allowing the door to swing wide open, to learn about all of him. I realized my mouth was open. “I mean, sure.”

  He shrugged as he sat down. “Time for a change. Cut and I’ll finish. If you don’t mind anyway.”

  “I don’t mind.” The words were whispered. I had difficulty sliding my glass onto the hearth and the way he handed me the scissors, as if I was taking his life into my hands was almost too overwhelming.

  “I trust you. Completely. With everything.”

  When he turned away from me, exhaling as he crossed his legs, I sat exactly where I was, dumbfounded. Enthralled. Swallowing hard, I placed my hand on his naked shoulder, shivering. “This will take a little while.”

  “I know. I have all the time in the world and even if I didn’t, I’d make the time. For you. With you.”

  Steadying my nerves, I gripped the comb, sliding the teeth through his hair. The feel was more luxurious than I remembered, creating another heavy shot of electricity. As I began to cut, I held my breath. “Who is she?”

  Razer shook his head, reaching back to grip my knee. “Please, finish.”

  “Yes, sir.” He responded to my sign of respect with another squeeze of his hand. As I ran the long strands of his hair through my fingers, I thought about his name. It rang a bell, or perhaps a red flag, but from where and why? I wasn’t certain I wanted to know, but at some point, no doubt I’d learn. I cut carefully, removing several inches, easing onto my knees in order to try and give him some shape. The more I cut, the more handsome he seemed to me.

  “You’re very good at this.” He slid his hand up my arm, caressing, kneading his fingers into my skin.

  “Say that after you look in the mirror.” His touch was so electric, sending tingles everywhere. I combed then pulled back, giving him a hard look.

  “You don’t like?”

  “I can’t tell with the beard. I can only do so much.” I forced a smile and could sense he was just as tense as I was. Perhaps in removing his mask, I was unleashing the man inside, the one he seemed to fear. After finishing with his hair, I moved to his beard, cutting closely, the scissors coming within millimeters of his face. The mustache was slightly easier and when I was finished, I blinked several times. This was the businessman, no longer someone hiding on a mountain top. “You look entirely different.”

  “Exactly what I thought you’d say.” His voice held such a tone of disappointment and he glanced at the fire, exhaling. “I’m not the man you think I am.”

  I refused to accept the standard line any longer. Pulling his face toward mine, I lowered my head. “I don’t know who you are on the outside of the cabin and in truth, I don’t care. I know the man who’s given me a chance at being the woman I long to be. That will be in my heart always.”

  A quiet relief swept his face, sliding into his furrowed brow. He pulled me onto his lap, rubbing his hands up and down my back. “I would also love to stay here, Megan, but we can’t. We can no longer hide who we really are. You know that.”

  There were no words to answer him.

  He kissed my lips with a gentle touch, a lover’s touch before moving to his feet. “I’ll be back.”

  “Okay. I’ll wait.” The jest was followed by his hard stare.

  As he started to walk away, I reached for my wine, perhaps needing some level of courage. Then I heard his words.

  “And I’m falling in love with you as well.”

  Chapter 9

  Razer

  Megan Wallace. The name made me livid. I knew her father, far too well, and not just by his crass reputation. My experience with him was less than stellar. Our businesses were similar, but Gabriel Wallace had taken a darker turn with his company, something my father had tried to convince me to do prior to his death. There were no coincidences. Either Megan was a perfect plant, or the poor girl had no idea what she’d stumbled on, obtaining certain facts about her infamous father. Either way, I would be forced to face the past, the ugliness that has kept me a prisoner. Was there any chance the man had discovered my location? If so, there would be a brutal ending and this time, I refused to be on the receiving end.

  I stormed into the bathroom, flipping on the light and waiting for a solid two minutes before I could stomach seeing my reflection. When I did, I inhaled and rose to my full height, shifting my head, studying the change. She’d done a damn good job with the haircut. Very similar to the classic pictures I’d always loathed. I rubbed my face, snickering given the scraggly beard. The facial hair I would have to contend with.

  What I also had to come to terms with is that she deserved the truth. At least she understood the nature of her father’s business. To what degree remained to be seen. However, there would be no need to sugarcoat it, to lie to her any further. She’d had enough family trauma to contend with over the years. The rest was buried in the details. At least for now.

  I’d been prepared for the day I’d be forced to go back from the first moment I walked into the cabin door, having rented the space with no questions asked. Money did all the talking necessary in the majority of transactions. Fortunately, the owner had never bothered me, had never even called. He’d accepted his position, which was no position. If anyone asked, there was no one staying in the cabin. Not fit to be rented. Not a soul had any clue of my whereabouts.

  At least so I thought.

  I sniffed as I found the straight edge razer, studying the man staring back at me. I no longer knew the scruffy creature, a man close to becoming a drunk. Hell, maybe I didn’t want to know him any longer. There was an old saying. You can’t run from the past. You can’t hide from the inevitable. I twisted the blade back and forth, enjoying the way the metal gleamed in the ugly light. Ruthless. That’s what I would need to become again. Only this time, protecting her would be added to the mix.

  As I began to cut, dragging the edge through the scrubby beard, the mustache that hid so much of me, I resisted reliving the anger, the memories. They would do no good at this point, only serving to help me self-destruct.

  I took my time, shaving every inch of beard, the sideburns and the mustache. When I was finished, I rubbed my face, snarling into the mirror. I washed my face and threw the implement back into the cabinet. I was filled with rage, blinding and unsettling, the kind that created the mess in the first place. Some would say my temper was the reason.

  I knew otherwise.

  Lies. Deceit. Her.

  Closing my eyes, I
tried to think clearly, to put a plan together. What I knew is that I’d fallen in love with Megan. Damn be to any freaking God above. I’d done exactly what I ran away from. I’d allowed my feelings to get in the way.

  Slamming my hand on the sink, I hissed, dropping my head and trying desperately to think. To figure out the shit I’d gotten myself into. Megan had no full understanding of what she was facing, but her fucking father would not force her into any arranged marriage. I knew I was capable of killing the man.

  And I might if necessary.

  I rubbed a towel across my face and chuckled. “Judge not lest ye be judged.” But they’d all judged me. Every one of my colleagues, my supposed friends. They’d classified me as guilty as charged for every crime. For every heartache.

  And for…

  No, I refused to go down the path. I wanted this woman. She’d broken through more than one barrier, allowing me to find a way back to what most would call civilization. The discipline. Jesus. She knew how to turn me on, her blatant needs fulfilling everything I’d once had.

  And lost.

  But there were differences.

  I’d been used to women who wanted something from me and usually that entailed money or influence. Some even thought I had a higher purpose in life. What a crock. Then I’d fallen into my own trap, the very one I’d invented, enabling me to maintain some sense of professionalism while screwing over the entire world. I laughed, the sound bitter. Not quite my father but damn close. Karma was certainly kicking my ass and for good reason.

  Megan was sweet and inviting, caring and hearing the words that she loved me had been stunning at the time, taking me to a darker realm. I should stay away from her, pushing her out of my life before it was too late. She would no doubt be hurt if she was forced into the light of my scathing life, but I was willing to take the chance. As long as I could protect her.

  After taking another deep breath, I lifted my hand, issuing my middle finger. Time to be a fucking man. Turning out the light, I remained in the darkness, allowing the shadows to creep in, to grasp that tiny amount of my soul that had yet to be claimed by the Devil himself. If I did this, my life would forever be changed. And so would hers. There would be no turning back, no resetting of the clock. I would become the monster she so feared in order to survive.

  The thought was riveting but again, a chance I was forced to take. I walked back into the living room, keeping my steps light, unsure of her reaction. She sensed my presence immediately, rising to her feet and walking toward me. I’m not certain what I was expecting, but her face was full of adoration, love. I was utterly fucking terrified.

  “You are…” She laughed as she walked closer, stopping briefly, scanning my entire body with her eyes. Closing the distance, she stood with her hands clasped then extended her arm. “It’s very nice to meet you, William Razer Reynolds. Do you mind if I call you Razer?”

  Hearing the lilt in her voice was enough to cut a small slice through the armor made of steel. But I had to maintain focus. “Yeah. Suits me, Megan.” In so many ways.

  She shook my hand, cutting her eyes away. “Much better. You’re the man you need to be.” Very tentatively she reached out, fingering my brow, moving the tips of her fingers down the bridge of my nose then across to my cheekbone. When she circled my lips, her breathing heavy, I wanted nothing more than to devour her. “Perfect.”

  I grasped her wrist, pulling her toward me, forcing her onto her toes. When I spoke, I could hear the angst in my voice, the almost intolerable domination I’d been a part of my entire life, but she craved it. She wanted this. “Are you willing to obey me?”

  The question was met with an expression of surprise, but she immediately answered. “Without question.”

  “Are you willing to surrender to me body and soul?”

  “Always and forever.”

  I dragged her closer, leaning over to kiss her lips. “You need a spanking.” I grasped her tightly, pressing my hand against the small of her back, forcing my tongue inside her hot, wet mouth. I was drunk on her scent, famished for another taste. Gripping her shoulders, I found myself unable to think clearly. “Hard.”

  “For what?” she breathed.

  “Because you must understand.”

  She exhaled and rubbed her hand across my cheek. “Yes, sir.”

  For all the wrong reasons, I wanted nothing more than to dominate her, command her in every way, train her to be my own. I sucked in my breath, reveling in the way my skin felt, my heart. There was no escaping the love that crowded out the pain, the agony that had been a part of me for so long. “Remove your clothes.”

  If she was surprised in any manner, she didn’t react, merely nodding before pulling away, unbuttoning the thick buttons and peeling away her shirt.

  My shirt.

  Seeing her slender shoulders, the nape of her neck was far too enticing, and my cock twitched, hungering to fill her. Fuck her.

  Megan kept her eyes on me, her arms crossed over her chest, her face shimmering in the glow of the fire. She held no fear, no wanton regret, only desire electrifying her skin. She lowered her head, waiting for my command.

  Gritting my teeth, I was consumed by the kind of emotions that would never have been accepted in my previous life. As I unfastened my belt, I realized my hand was shaking, my fingers rigid. Whatever time we had left in this cabin, she belonged to me outright. I would do with her as I pleased. I pulled the thick leather from the loops, marveling in the difference the strap felt in my fingers. I’d amassed an impressive collection of implements over the years, thousands of dollars spent on exotic woods and handmade leather. Some pieces were considered antiques, even artifacts from a distant time. Nothing made as much sense as using an item that was so personal.

  Crack!

  I slapped the end of the belt against the wooden floor, enjoying the way the sound reverberated into the room. To Megan’s credit, she didn’t react. Moving very slowly, I made a wide circle around her, allowing the end of the strap to dangle next to her feet. “Did you know that some believe discipline is based in Christianity, honor and respect vital to the happiness of households?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ve read almost everything there is on domestic discipline, a submissive’s requirements. Honor and obey without question. Trust given based on respect.”

  I was impressed, the words forcing my heart to pump a little harder. “Yes. Discipline is only a tool.” I folded the belt, moving the folded edge down her spine, tapping her buttocks. “Open your legs for me.” I thought about my old playroom, but she didn’t fit in the realm I’d once captained. Maybe no one ever had.

  She did so without question, her rounded mouth pursing.

  Sliding the strap between her legs, I eased my other hand around her hip, grabbing the end and rubbing the leather back and forth.

  “Oh!” Her shudder was followed by a swaying of her body.

  I continued the action, drinking in her feminine essence, all of my senses invigorated. Easing just to the side, I was able to watch her facial expressions as they changed, morphing from anticipation to sheer excitement. Her body undulated, her hips shifting as she tried to get closer to the implement creating extreme pleasure. My breath sounds became ragged, slow and steady low growls guttural.

  Megan reached down, grabbing my wrist, her nails digging into my skin. She lolled her head, silky strands of hair falling into her face.

  Adding additional pressure, I pulled the belt back and forth until her pussy lips opened, the edges of the strap biting into her tender tissue. I wanted her to come. I needed her to come.

  She rocked her head back and forth, a seductive smile crossing her lovely face. Even her eyelids were fluttering open and closed.

  “Your pleasure belongs to me. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” she managed then licked her lips. She began to ride the intrusion, her actions matching the movement of the leather. Forward. Backward. Rising onto her tiptoes.

  I was unable to take my eyes off
her beautiful face, yet I was in near agony, my balls swollen, my cock pinched against the thick fabric of my jeans. She had a way about her that drove me to near insanity. Harder then faster I masturbated her, my own body swaying with her, living the moment of rawness. As she came close to coming, I dug the strap in deeper, angling my hold into a full curve.

  “Oh. I can’t… Please, may I come?”

  “Almost. Soon.” I held her back as long as I could stand. Picking up the pace, I inched closer, longing to see the instant the orgasm ravaged her body. When her body started to jerk, I was unable to stand it any longer. “Come for me!”

  The demand was met with an instant reaction, her face breaking out in a light sheen of perspiration. Her grip became tighter, her fingers white knuckled.

  “Yes. Yes!” Megan screamed, the sound filtering over us. She went rigid as the climax erupted, sending her to what I could tell was a place of ecstasy. When she’d finished convulsing, she opened her eyes, but I could sense there was no focus, only a swell of passion and heat.

  As she fell against me, her head tilted back, she purred. I led her toward the couch, placing her gently over the back. “Never forget who owns you.” I pressed the belt to my nose, tingling from the fragrance alone. As I moved behind her, taking a stance, perhaps accepting my position, I had an odd pang in my heart.

  Crack!

  The first strike was across her buttocks and her body jerked. But there was no sound. Not a cry.

  I smacked her again, marveling in the immediate redness, the sense of ownership.

  Megan breathed out, her hands slapping on the top of the couch.

  I was shaking as I administered the punishment, striking her with enough force her skin reddened immediately. As I fell into the role of disciplinarian, a concept I knew far too well, I began to count the lashes in my mind.

  “Oh!” Her cry was laced with a taste of ecstasy.

  I exhaled and rubbed her skin. The markings were incredible.

  Pop! Slap!

  I regaled at the moment, the utter domination of this woman.