Her pulse fluttered wildly and color seeped upward to her face. She hesitated just briefly while she looked around to make sure the area was clear. One day, when she trusted him, she would do it without question, showing him she knew he’d keep her safe.
Biting her lip, she lifted up in her seat enough to wiggle her skirt up a bit and get her hands underneath it. “I’m taking my panties off, Sir, because you ordered me to.” He watched, purposely impassive, as she tugged the panties down and then off, pulling the skirt back down with it.
“Hand them to me now.”
She flushed dark pink but placed a tiny, wispy, lacy scrap of nothing in his outstretched palm.
He raised a brow. “Naughty panties, princess. I like them. I think I’ll keep them.” He stuffed them into his pocket. “Now, let’s take that walk.”
Her eyes were still wide. “Really?”
“Really. If you weren’t a novice, you’d be walking around without panties and with some kind of toy in you. A vibrator, an anal plug, Ben Wa Balls, a clit clip. Now, I’m up for some sightseeing.” He aimed a swat at her hip, grinning when she let out a small squeak. “Shake a leg, princess. I don’t like being kept waiting.”
He got out of the car, came around the side and opened her door for her, holding out his hand. She put it in his, and he squeezed her fingers, drawing her up to standing. He leaned close. “Good girl. Maybe next time I tell you to take them off for me, I’ll have you do it standing, outside the car.” He nipped her ear and laughed softly at her gasp, then stood back, giving her a tiny bit of space.
Still holding her hand, he led her off to the information center so they could figure out what they wanted to see. They walked slowly along Shenandoah Street, enjoying the relative quiet and emptiness. Come summer, this place would be mobbed, and though that could be fun too, he needed it less crowded for his purposes.
They stopped in one of the buildings to watch the short film about Harpers Ferry. The film had already started, so they stood in the back of the room. Gabe leaned against the wall and pulled Olivia close so she was standing in front of him. He wound one arm around her waist, his palm splayed wide across her stomach, pressing her backward against his groin.
She shifted slightly, rubbing her ass against his semihard cock. He didn’t think it was deliberate, more a balance thing, but the effect was still the same. He bent his fingers slightly, pressing into her skin. “Careful, princess. It’s dark in here, and you never know what I might do.”
And it was dark in the spot where they stood, so he tunneled his other hand under her tank top, rubbing a thumb across her nipple. He felt her go tense, then felt rather than heard her sigh of acquiescence. In response, he pinched it lightly and fastened his teeth against her neck where it met her shoulder. In that same spot, his spot, the one he’d grown to love to mark. He spoke quietly in her ear, continuing to tease the aroused, beaded nipple. “Mine. When I want, where I want, what I want, unless you use a safe word. Understood?” She hesitated, then nodded. “Excellent.”
The film was winding up, so he removed his hand and righted her clothes, still holding her close. People filed past them, smiling and talking with each other, and he remained silent, letting his words sink in, giving her time to absorb them. When the theater was empty, he led her outside into the sunshine again. She looked somewhat dazed, so he took pity on her. “What would you like to see next?”
She blinked, either from the bright sunshine or from the unexpectedly normal question. “I, um...the blacksmith shop, maybe?”
He grinned. “Ah, ironwork. One of my favorite things.”
She blushed furiously. “I didn’t mean—”
“I know you didn’t, princess. That’s what makes it even better.” He pointed off into the distance. “It’s over there, by the canal.”
They started walking. “I saw something on the map about an overlook?”
He nodded. “It’s on the Maryland side, but it’s a strenuous hike. The view is fantastic. Maybe we can do it this fall, when the leaves are changing.” When she’d recovered more of her endurance and her strength.
He’d might as well have said that out loud, because she got quiet again, and not the good kind. She’d disappeared inside her brain again, and he stifled a curse. He forged on, though, hoping he didn’t make things worse by sharing his own issues with her. “I’ll probably need my knee brace for it. It’s steep.”
That got her attention. “Knee brace?”
He grimaced, and it wasn’t feigned. “Yeah. When I play sports or run, I wear a brace. My knee is stable most of the time, but it’s not worth it to me to blow it out again.”
She cocked her head to the side, giving him a measured, serious glance.
“What?”
“You’re not saying that just to make me feel better?”
He snorted. “Right. I’m going to admit to being forty-five and unstable—”
She laughed, the sound like light, tinkling chimes, and he realized what he’d said.
He smirked and adjusted his words. “Being physically unstable in front of a woman I’m trying to impress?” He shook his head. “I’m not that much of a nice guy.”
The concern slid from her eyes, which turned rueful. “Actually, I think you are. But thank you.”
He took her hand but ignored her words.
Along the way to the blacksmith’s, they stopped into the dry goods store. Olivia was fascinated by the items that would’ve been for sale during the 1850s, especially the fabrics, notions and medicines. She talked animatedly with the reenactor playing the shopkeeper for nearly half an hour, and he was glad he’d decided to bring her here. She’d needed this change of scenery. They also wandered into the Provost Marshal’s office and the bookshop, where he picked up another copy of the book on local history he’d lost in the fire.
The blacksmith was outside his shop, working over the glowing coals of a fire. He was pounding a red-hot piece of iron into a large, S-shaped hook. Gabe glanced over at Olivia to see if she recognized it. He had several like it at Bondage and Breakfast, but she didn’t seem to notice. She watched the man’s work intently, grinning as the blacksmith smiled at her.
Something that might’ve been jealousy twisted in Gabe’s gut. “Come on, let’s check out the inside.”
She turned her happy smile to him. “Sure.”
They were the only ones inside the small shop. There were several displays, including one of chains and manacles. He crowded against Olivia at that display, slipping his left arm under hers and then across her chest, his hand covering her right shoulder. Protective.
Possessive.
“Do you like those? I do. I can imagine you in nothing but them, with some padding under the manacles so they don’t hurt your tender skin. In the house, with your arms over your head and the chain looped over an S-hook in the ceiling, your feet spread wide and the chains hooked into the floor.”
“Gabe, please—”
“Oh, I would please you, princess. I’d make you beg me to let you come. And I would make it happen over and over and over again until your eyes glazed over and you were exhausted.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were still alone, then slipped his right hand under the hem of her skirt, sliding his palm against her soft skin. Anyone looking at them from behind would see a man hugging a woman. He lightly pinched her thigh. “And it’s Sir.”
She whimpered. “Sir, please.”
As he moved his hand higher, he felt her wetness against his fingers. “So fucking hot to be teased like this, isn’t it, bad girl? Walking around without panties, getting wet from my words. Me touching you out in public, where anyone might walk in on us. You love it, don’t you?” He moved his hand so his fingers teased her curls but weren’t touching her skin.
She dropped her head against his shoulder and shuddered.
“Yes, Sir.”
Satisfaction flowed through him. When she’d freaked out at the house this morning, he’d worried she’d call a full stop. Why he’d been so invested in that answer, he didn’t want to examine. Not deeply, anyway. He was enjoying breaking her in to this kind of play. It had been a very long time since he’d done that, and he’d forgotten how satisfying it was. That was all he’d admit to. He shoved the rest to the back of his mind.
“I know you do.” Childish laughter outside alerted him they were no longer alone, so he withdrew his fingers from beneath her skirt and pressed a kiss to her temple, loosening his grip on her shoulder and spinning her so she faced him. Her color was high, her eyes wide and slightly unfocused, but she looked neither scared nor horrified. He’d been checking her reactions during everything he’d done, and he’d been very careful not to twist her spine in any way. He tweaked her nose. “Let’s go look at the canal.”
He enfolded her hand in his and drew her outside. They stood outside the group of school kids and listened to the blacksmith show them how he made horseshoes. Once he’d plunged the hot metal into water, releasing a hiss of steam, Gabe turned to Olivia.
“Canal?”
She bit her lip, a sure sign something was on her mind. “Would you mind if we skipped that? I’m getting a little hungry, and I think I’d like to head home.”
When she called Bondage and Breakfast home, he got an odd feeling in his stomach, something like nerves but better. He looked at his watch. “Wow, I didn’t realize it had gotten this late. Sure thing, sweets. Let’s go.”
Chapter Nine
Liv stood in front of her closet trying to figure out what she was going to wear for dinner tonight. They weren’t going anywhere, but she liked to wear something other than sweats when they sat down to eat together.
Three weeks. She’d been staying at Bondage and Breakfast just over three weeks, and already she couldn’t imagine going back to her regularly scheduled life.
Every morning, she did her physical therapy with Gabe watching. With her doctor’s approval, she’d added a daily two-mile walk to her routine. Gabe insisted on coming with her, claiming it was just as good for him as it was for her. She was mad at first, but she’d grown to love that time together. He made it interesting for her, taking her different places for the walk. C&O Canal Towpath one day, Mount Vernon another day. He knew a lot about the history of the area, and he shared that with her. She felt like she was on vacation, and she felt guilty keeping him from his work. One day, she confessed that to him, apologizing for monopolizing his time. Mildly, he’d told her to shut up, and when she hadn’t, he’d shut her up with a kiss that had made her knees weak.
In the afternoons, they continued to work on getting the bed and breakfast ready to reopen, dealing with the copious amounts of paperwork or shopping for necessities. Even though he’d told her he hated shopping, he’d joined her on most of those trips, too. He was funny and charming and polite to everyone, and with her he was all of those plus wickedly sexual.
At dinner and for the rest of the night, he became Master Gabriel. To her ever-growing frustration, he kept things fairly mild. After he’d teased her with kisses and light, barely there touches, he’d send her to bed with the warning not to make herself come. She was ready to scream and beg for him to please just finish things, but she had the feeling he had his own timetable and wouldn’t be swayed.
She was falling for him, hard. Had maybe even fallen all the way. And she wasn’t sure what she was going to do about it.
She finally settled on a loose sundress and no bra. Her scars were really bothering her today, and the thought of anything pressing against them was more than she could handle. To hide the fact that she was braless, she slid on her favorite loose sweater wrap. She wore it nearly every day, so maybe Gabe wouldn’t notice she didn’t have as much support as she usually did.
She dressed in front of the mirror, noting with no small measure of pride that she no longer looked as if she’d just come out of the hospital. She still had a way to go, but her skin wasn’t hospital-sallow any more thanks to all the time she spent outside in the sun, and her hair, her one real vanity, had regained most of its usual shine. She’d put some weight back on, too, and she felt more like herself than she had in months.
She headed downstairs to the kitchen, looking for Gabe. He was standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot. He wore a linen shirt and loose trousers that emphasized the cut of his hips and his tightly muscled arse. He was barefoot. She smiled at that, having learned he preferred bare feet to shoes any day of the week. She looked down at her own feet. She was barefoot as well, for the same reason.
“Smells good,” she said, coming up beside him, trying to peek into the pot. “What are we having?”
His voice was gruff and he didn’t look at her. “You’ll see soon enough. Pour us some wine, please?”
She winced at his tone. “Um, sure,” she said, heading over to the table, looking back over her shoulder at him. He seemed like he was in a bad mood, but maybe dinner would help.
There was a bottle on the table, but no glasses. They were in a cabinet across from the table, so she went and opened the door. She’d seen him get the glasses before, but she’d never gotten them herself, and she realized that, barefoot, she couldn’t reach them. She stood on her toes and tried, but they were still too high. Her fingers touched the shelf, but she couldn’t reach the glasses. She tried to stretch more, but any further tugged uncomfortably at her scars.
Before she could ask him to help, he was behind her, against her in a full-body press, leaving no doubt as to the reason for his earlier tone of voice. He was fully aroused, his cock pressing against her arse, thick and hard and hot. “Stay right there on your toes, princess, and leave your hands where they are,” he growled. “Don’t move an inch unless I tell you to.”
Her heart started to pound. “Yes, Sir.”
He squatted behind her, sliding his hands under the short skirt of her dress, raising goose bumps against her skin. He ran his palms up the outside of her thighs, then hooked his thumbs into the elastic at the sides. “I want these off.” He drew them down before she could even blink. “Step out of them, then back on your toes.”
She did, and he stood again, dangling the panties in front of her face by a single finger. “Another pair to add to my collection.”
She couldn’t let that slide, and risked looking over her shoulder. “If you keep taking my knickers, I won’t have any left to wear.”
He grinned, a predator’s smile if she’d ever seen one. “Exactly.”
She’d walked right into that one. “Oh.”
He leaned against her back again, then reached over her and pulled down two wineglasses. He set them on the counter beside her, and she dropped off her toes and started to turn. “I didn’t say you could move, did I, princess?” He reached back up to grab her wrists.
If she’d still been on her toes, it would’ve been fine, but now that she was standing with her feet flat on the floor, the movement pulled the scars on her back. She didn’t want to ruin the playful mood, so she clenched her teeth until she pushed herself back up on her toes, easing the amount she needed to stretch, biting back the hiss of discomfort that almost escaped.
“You okay, Olivia?”
He was obviously attuned to her, and she swore under her breath. “I am now.”
“Shit.” He brought her arms down by her sides and stepped back, turning her so she leaned against the counter, facing him. “Why didn’t you say something?”
The frown on his face brought out on one her own. “I’m fine. Once I got back on my toes, it was better.”
His frown turned into a scowl. “I told you before I don’t want you hiding things like that from me. You should’ve told me you were in pain.”
She rolled her eyes. “Red. I’m sa
ying that so I can say this without you going all tough Dom on me. I’m not in pain, exactly. The stretching was uncomfortable. It made me catch my breath. And I’ve told you before, I’m not going to break. If it was pain, trust me, you’d bloody well know.” She paused, tossed him her sweetest, most patently fake smile. “Sir.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I’m thinking you’re more brat than princess, at least right now.”
Brat? The word set her blood boiling. “Why? Because I won’t share every single bit of how I feel with you? Sorry, but I’m thirty-four, and I’ve taken care of myself for a very long time. I’ve lost my appetite. Excuse me.” She pushed her way past him.
“Fuck. Olivia, wait.”
She didn’t stop, just slammed out the back door and into the yard. They’d both left a pair of trainers on the steps earlier, so she slipped her feet into hers and took off walking toward the path that led to the horses, muttering under her breath about pushy, stubborn men. Dusk had almost turned to night, but the nearly full moon was bright, and she had no trouble finding her way.
Part of her was dismayed Gabe wasn’t behind her, following her, and part of her wasn’t surprised at all. She’d been a total bitch to him. Why would he follow? And bloody hell, what would she say to him if he did, anyway?
She reached the clearing and leaned her elbows on the fence, propping one foot on the lowest rail. There was a warm breeze and it blew up under her short dress, the air wafting across her bare skin, reminding her Gabe had taken her panties.
Again.
In spite of her anger, she was still aroused. That just by stripping her panties from her, he could bring her to the point where she wanted to beg him to please, please, oh God please take her? Pissed her off, but made her even wetter for him. Maddening cycle, that.
There were several horses in the pasture, and she watched them play under the moonlight. Two of them seemed to be flirting, one chasing the other. It was charming to watch, and it helped settle the frustration she felt with both Gabe and with her own stubborn, neurotic self. She stood there for a long while, soaking up the quiet.
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