by B J Wane
“I know and I appreciate it, Donovan, I really do, but right now I’d rather you looked out for my needs. And I need you to quit holding back.” Anna didn’t know where all this bravado had come from, but the sight of him holding a round, leather paddle coupled with the smooth caresses from his hard, calloused hand had her need and arousal firing up on all cylinders.
“Then bend over, push your hips back,” he stated without preamble as he took his hand off her ass and replaced it with a light swat from the paddle after she had done as instructed. Her startled gasp made him smile, but she didn’t budge from her position. Taking a step closer, he slipped his free hand over her smooth mound, remembering how those soft folds looked as they slowly parted for his cock. Snapping the paddle on her other buttock, he slid his finger through those drenched folds and fingered her tight sheath, smiling again when she closed tightly around him.
The third swat had Anna moaning and shoving back against him as she simultaneously tried to ground down on his finger. The heat and pain built across her buttocks with each stroke, the leather slapped against her flesh with a resounding snap that echoed in the room, but not loud enough to drown out the murmuring voices from their audience. She tried to avoid seeing those faces in the mirror but soon found the only way to do that was to shift her eyes to the side and watch Donovan. The intense look on his face as he slapped her ass again made her shudder with longing, wanting more than ever to feel that intensity when he was fucking her.
His finger made direct contact with her clit on the next stroke and she tried but failed to bite back a telltale whimper of need. Jerking against his marauding hand, she tightened her hands on the top of the chair and tried to keep from begging, but on the next swat accompanied by a light pinch of her clit before a sudden release, she couldn’t keep from whispering, “Please.”
Chuckling, Donovan said, “It’s about time,” then proceeded to milk her engorged clit between his fingers as he smacked her cheeks several more times.
Anna cried out in pleasure, her orgasm exploding without any slow build up, just one massive burst of body enveloping pleasure that consumed her from head to toe. She was still writhing in the throes of that climax when she felt Donovan’s hands on her hips and his cock invading her still spasming pussy with one deep, hard plunge. And then he fucked her, hard and deep with fast, jackhammer, body jarring thrusts that sent her senses careening out of control again on a never ending spiral of pleasure. Over and over, his cock invaded her pussy with driving, forceful possession, filling her completely, rocking the chair with each deep plunge, giving her exactly what she had asked for, what she had craved for so long.
Donovan didn’t give her a chance to meet his thrusts but kept control of her hips as he took her like she had asked him to, with no holds barred. Each calculated thrust went as deep as possible, slamming his balls against her thighs as he touched her womb with jarring intensity, over and over. Sweat broke out on his brow as he pounded into her, her red ass and bouncing breasts with their stiff nipples driving him to greater heights. Digging his thumbs into her cheeks, he spread them enough to reveal the small puckered hole they hid from him. Rubbing one thumb over that sensitive piece of flesh, he was rewarded with her scream and the feel of her clamping so tightly on his dick in her third orgasm there was no way he could hold out any longer. Her tight pussy sucked his orgasm out of him with strong pulses on his hard flesh, milking him nonstop until he swore she drained him dry, flames of pleasure tearing through him as he pumped into her, their harsh breathing, the squeak of the chair and the slap of their hips coming together forcefully drowned out the muted strains of music and the soft murmurs from their audience.
For the first time in over seven years, Donovan didn’t feel like he was using a woman. He rarely sought sex, and when he did more often than not it was to help rid him of the demons riding him, an effort to expunge Nathan’s dying face from his mind as well as the sight of the guard he had beaten to death in a fit of rage as the prison was being taken over by his rescue team. A man he had killed with his bare hands and yet had no memory of actually doing the deed. But Anna had given him a reprieve from his guilt and remorse as well as the anger that always seemed to be simmering just below the surface. As he pulled reluctantly from the soft well of her vagina, he hoped her pleasure had at least equaled his own.
Anna turned as Donovan helped her down, shuddering as she simply folded herself against his hard frame and felt his arms go around her. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from her screams of pleasure as she tried to catch her breath.
Chuckling, Donovan tilted her face up to his and kissed her, his mouth taking hers softly in direct contrast to how he had just taken her body, before replying, “Anytime, sugar.”
Chapter Twenty Six
Anna rolled over in her bed the next morning, smiling as the lingering ache in her pussy reminded her of the pleasure of fucking Donovan, an ache that only reinforced her desire for Donovan and his rough possession. Once again, she had worked up a sweat during sex, proof she had thrown her whole body into the act, exerting enough effort to leave her shuddering in sated exhaustion. And she had loved it. She had been hoping Donovan would invite her back to his house, but when he didn’t, she didn’t allow her disappointment to ruin an otherwise perfect night. He was a complicated man, a man who, she suspected, battled his share of demons as she did. The scar running down the side of his face indicated a violent past that could rival her own and at the thought of someone hurting him she found herself not only empathizing with him but angry at his having suffered.
Stretching, reluctant to leave the warmth of her bed and her memories of the previous night, she glanced at the clock and was surprised to see the morning practically gone. Cursing, she rolled out of bed and padded naked into the bathroom. Today was the third Sunday of the month and her scheduled visitation day at Shady Oaks. Stepping under the hot shower, she let the heat warm her suddenly cold and clammy skin as she remembered her obligation. Damn it, she thought angrily, she didn’t want to cloud the bliss she was feeling with a trip to the home where Todd had lain in a vegetative state for over two years.
Guilt for one thing or another had hounded her most of her life, and when she had taken an opportunity to free herself of the daily beatings her husband had been inflicting on her for eight days, three of those accompanied by her broken arm, she had to add the results from that desperate action to her already long list. Grabbing the bedside lamp and smashing it over Todd’s head when he had turned his back on her after that last beating, had been an act of desperation driven by fear and pain. With blood running from her infected wounds and her right arm useless from the unattended break, she had simply acted without thought, never guessing that her desperate act would leave Todd with irreversible brain damage or that both her parents and his would blame her for everything. Her father’s death from another heart attack eight months ago had only compounded her guilt.
Since that fateful day six months after her marriage to Todd, she had accepted not only her responsibility for her husband’s actions, but the fact that her parents weren’t there for her when she needed them the most. She had lost all hope of ever being accepted and loved for who she was that day, and drawing on her experience of learning to shield her emotions from others, she had vowed to never let anyone see the depth of her need and pain again.
Somehow, Donovan had broken through that shield. The way he befriended her that first week just to ensure himself she was free of her abuser was more than anyone else, except Diane, had done for her since that fateful day. The fact that he gave in to her pleas for sex, for experiences he was obviously reluctant to give her, only made her want him more and after she had felt his hard cock taking her the way she had always wanted, she knew she wanted more from him than just last night.
Tired of the guilt, the constant recriminations she battled every month when she went to visit Todd, Anna decided she was going to do something for herself today instead of for the man who didn’t deser
ve her time, the man who wouldn’t know whether she sat by his side this afternoon or not. Worried Donovan would shore up his own defenses against being with her, against giving her again what she craved so much, she decided to surprise him with a visit this afternoon, and, hopefully, earn a repeat of last night for her efforts.
Donovan spent a sleepless night wanting a woman in his bed for the first time, something that had him both edgy and, ironically, pleased. He had never thought he would want a steady relationship, never imagined he would even contemplate one given his constant struggle to keep the underlying anger that had plagued him since his imprisonment in check. That anger had started to build slowly during those first days when he had to sit in that small, cramped cell and impotently watch Nathan slowly and agonizingly die. Over the next few weeks, it had festered until, when he was given the chance, it had exploded with uncontrollable force, and not even the military shrinks could convince him his actions were both justified and a one-time anomaly due to circumstances beyond his control. The blackouts that came with his drinking binges hadn’t helped, nor had the fact that neither his rage nor his blackouts had returned in all these years.
He thought of the pain and suffering Anna had endured. Even without knowing the details, he knew to get those scars she had to endure beatings as severe as his, yet she managed to put it aside enough to go after what she wanted, to pursue him and what he could do for her even after he had been anything but encouraging. Damned if he didn’t admire her for that. And when he had finally caved and taken her the way they both wanted, she had reveled in his hard possession, had responded with open abandonment and enthusiasm and without any fearful memories being resurrected. Which was why, as he was tossing and turning all night, that for the first time in his life, he was giving serious consideration to setting aside the rest of his reservations in order to give their relationship a chance. For the first time he found himself caring enough about a woman for him to risk losing the precarious hold he maintained over his emotions, a hold vital to his peace of mind, to ease his constant fear of losing control again. As much as he had regretted not inviting her back to his place for the night, as much as he had wanted having her in his bed, he finally fell asleep convinced it was a risk worth taking.
Donovan entered the stables later that morning, his head in the clouds as he wrestled with the urge to call Anna and invite her out today. As soon as he awoke this morning, he began second guessing his decision. He couldn’t afford to make any mistakes where she was concerned, so he wasn’t about to jump into a decision without carefully considering all the possible ramifications, no matter how much he was itching to call her just to hear her voice. Irritated with himself for both that sappy thought and his inability to simply go with his gut and his desire and pursue this relationship without thinking it to death, he headed towards Champion’s stall intent on clearing his head with a brisk ride. Seeing Ethan pacing nervously in front of Belle’s stall had him eyeing the fearful and guilty expression on the kid’s face suspiciously, and just that quickly he felt anger churning in his gut, somehow knowing what had him agitated.
“I need to talk to you,” Ethan stated, his voice tinged with a mixture of desperation and anger he couldn’t disguise even though he tried. Ever since Belle’s premature labor that had threatened both her and the foal’s life and his out of control anger that followed, he had wrestled with doing the right thing and coming clean with Donovan. He knew he could probably get away with everything, that there was a good chance none of them would find out it was him that had caused so much trouble for them, but meeting their mother had reminded him of his own mother and how disappointed she would be at his actions. She must have had her reasons for not telling him who his father was until she was dying and for not asking Casey McGilley for either monetary or moral support in raising him. They didn’t have much and his mother had worked hard to provide them with what they did have and she had always instilled in him the value of earning your way in life.
Since her untimely death, Ethan had been drowning in a sea of grief and rage, scared because he was now alone in the world, bereft because he missed his mother and angry because he had a father he never got a chance to know and brothers who seemed to have everything growing up, including the love of their father. Looking at the cold expression settle over Donovan’s face, he knew this wasn’t going to go as well as he had hoped, but he refused to be a coward any longer. Already regretting the loss of this job and praying he didn’t end up in jail, he blurted out, “It was me. I caused all the trouble around here.”
Donovan had suspected as much when he saw the way Ethan had been hanging around Belle and her foal, saw the guilt and simmering rage in his hazel eyes every time he happened to catch Ethan looking at him. Anger at his actions, the destruction and monetary hardships as well as the sense of betrayal rose to the surface with blinding speed. Turning from the kid he had a special fondness for, he struggled to get himself under control, clenching his hands so tightly he cut the circulation off.
“I’m sorry; I’ll work off the damages…” Ethan tried desperately to say but was viciously cut off by the sharp slice of Donovan’s hand in the air between them.
“Why? God damn it, you better have a fucking good reason for tossing everything I’ve done for you away.”
Ethan’s own anger surfaced and quickly overrode his remorse. “Everything you’ve done for me?” he sneered. “You’ve had it all your whole life while I’ve had nothing and I should be grateful for your handouts when I should’ve been a part of this,” his arm swept in an arc, indicating the stables, “my whole life.”
Donovan looked incredulously at Ethan as he tried to digest what he was saying while controlling his anger. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m you’re God damn brother, that’s what,” Ethan shouted. “Only I’m the one dear old dad apparently didn’t want.” He knew better, knew his mother had never told Casey about him, but he couldn’t help but be resentful that he hadn’t known, that he hadn’t cared enough about his mother to know he had a son with her.
“If that’s true, why didn’t you say so from the beginning, come to us openly instead of stabbing us in the back? You got proof?” Donovan asked, knowing it was entirely possible his father hadn’t stopped reproducing after he was born and as irresponsible as Casey had been, entirely possible he never knew about Ethan.
The rage left Ethan as quickly as it had risen. What difference did it make if he had proof? He’d blown his job and, from the closed unforgiving look on Donovan’s face, he could very well lose his freedom. Without answering him, he simply said resignedly, “I’ll pack my things and be out of here today.”
“The gate, were you responsible for that, for Belle getting out and getting hurt?” Of all the incidents, that was the one that had the anger churning the most and Donovan needed to know the truth.
“I didn’t open it, but I saw it was open and didn’t do anything.” And of everything he had done in childish retaliation against his brothers that was the one that he couldn’t forgive himself for.
Just then, the other three hands came in, laughing and cutting up as they often did, but all Donovan saw was the injury Belle had sustained when she had run out that gate and gotten clipped by a car and all he heard was her high pitched cries of pain and distress of her premature labor brought on by the stress of the previous weeks since her accident. “Out,” he ordered all of them without an explanation. “Take the day off. I don’t want anyone around here until tomorrow.” He watched them go, the rage simmering in him too volatile to risk being around anyone right now. He’d deal with Ethan and his surprise announcement later, right now he couldn’t risk being around anyone.
Donovan stormed back to the tack room, stripped off his shirt and grabbed his gloves, the need to vent and take his anger out by pummeling his punching bag overriding everything else. He didn’t know what made him angrier, the possibility he had a brother he had never known about, Casey’s irresponsib
ility or the betrayal he felt at Ethan’s admission. Donovan didn’t get close to people other than his brothers. He had friends, mostly at the club, but he didn’t see them regularly and didn’t socialize with them. He had always liked the college kids he hired, but always kept an employer/employee relationship with them. From the first time he had met Ethan he had felt a connection to the more times than not surly kid. He saw his affinity with the horses, saw the way he worked hard and didn’t complain about the dirty jobs and recognized a kindred spirit in their love of running the farm.
Was that why he was so angry, why his betrayal sat so heavily in his gut and had him shaking with rage? He had never acknowledged his fondness for the kid before now, not even to himself, but as the incidents around them had escalated and his suspicions since Belle gave birth grew, he suspected that was why he hadn’t mentioned those suspicions to Colin and Brett. As he started pounding on the heavy leather bag, he relished the relief venting his anger physically gave him and was glad he was alone to exorcise his demons.
Anna pulled into the drive leading to the McGilley stables, her anticipation at seeing Donovan again taking precedence over everything else. Her sense of obligation backed by her ever present guilt had warred with her need to simply shuck both emotions and indulge herself with being with Donovan again. Her need to feel him taking her again, taking her with no holds barred vigor to heights of pleasure that obliterated everything except the pleasure won out over her nagging sense that this was wrong, that she shouldn’t put being with Donovan before Todd. But need won out over duty and here she was and she refused to let anything mar this beautiful afternoon and the anticipation she felt as she entered the barn.
She recognized the sound of his fists connecting with his punching bag and followed it to the tack room, surprised she didn’t see anyone else around. The sight that greeted her at the door held her immobile for a brief moment of surprise. Shirtless, his back to her, Donovan was going at the hanging punch bag with a viciousness that would have startled her if she wasn’t trying to cope with the sight of the myriad of scars crisscrossing his sweat glistening back. All of a sudden his empathy for her in the beginning made more sense and she felt herself tearing up as she absorbed the suffering he must have endured. She knew he had been in the military, but she had wanted to learn about him slowly, grow to know the man from being around him rather than from reading other people’s accounts of his life. She now understood why he had never stripped completely while with her.