He pulled her into his lap and whispered, “Thank you, sprite.”
As he held her and stroked her back, she realized she’d been trembling. With a sigh, she relaxed. For a while they simply sat, enjoying the closeness, the sounds of the forest and creek. Eventually he stirred. “The air has cooled—let’s get into the bag.”
She stilled. Spend the night? Before she could formulate a protest, he’d pushed her to her feet and stood up. He unzipped the bag. “Hop in.”
After toeing off her boots, she bent to get in and squeaked when he gripped the neck of her shirt and pulled her upright. “I want you naked now.”
She stared up at him, at his utter self-confidence and the power radiating from him, and she swallowed. “Yes, Jake.”
He touched her face with his fingertip. “My sprite,” and the sheer satisfaction in his voice stopped her breath.
Then he stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. Excitement shot through her, and her fingers fumbled as she pulled off her clothes. The night air had chilled, and goose bumps rose on her skin; her nipples turned to tiny puckered buds. The air against her groin felt cool where she’d already grown wet. As she drew off the last sock, she stumbled. He caught her, setting her on her feet, then ran a hand over her breasts. As if he had the right.
She tried to take a step back, but he tangled his fingers in her hair, holding her in place, and deliberately palmed a breast. “My body, Kallie.” Something had changed in his manner, the way he looked at her. No longer controlling, but possessive too, as if to say, I am your dom.
And she was his sub. The thought sent a thrill across her skin, and she answered without thinking, “Yes. Yes, Sir.”
His lips curved in pleasure—pleasure she’d given him. He released her and patted her butt. “Get in the bag.”
The inside of the bag felt like smooth ice against her skin. It would warm up quickly, but brrr.
By the time she’d squirmed her way in, he’d removed his clothing. The firelight flickered along his body to highlight the curves of his pectorals, dance over the ridges of his abdomen, and shadow his groin, and she wanted to touch him everywhere. He sheathed himself in a condom, then slid into the bag beside her. After bunching his shirt up to serve as a pillow, he rolled onto his side.
Shivering, she inched closer; his big body gave off heat like a roaring furnace.
“Little ice cube,” he muttered and pulled her closer—a generous act if she’d ever seen one. As their legs tangled together, he ran his hands over her hips, pressing slightly, watching her face. “Any pain?”
She hissed when his fingers found the bruise from the club, and another spot on her shoulder.
“I remember the place on your back. Is that all the bad ones?”
She nodded.
“Good.” He firmly pushed her legs apart, opening her, and an intense surge of desire made her moan. His smile was hard, satisfied as he stroked her folds, finding her wet, already slick for him.
Suddenly a surge of anxiety hit her, and she grabbed his wrist, wanting—needing—to stall. Yes, she’d admitted she loved him, but now to have him inside her, surrounding her… That seemed too intense, as if it would leave all her heart and emotions vulnerable to him. If he left her…
He didn’t move. Didn’t speak or try to reassure her. He just waited, his steady gaze on hers. A minute passed, and her fears seeped away. People loved her. No one had abandoned her. And Jake would never deliberately hurt her. He loved her, and she could trust him with…everything. She sighed and smiled at him. “Mini panic attack. You made me take off my big-girl panties.”
He laughed and kissed her, so slow and sweet that it brought tears to her eyes. Lord help her, she’d turned into a damned faucet. “I love you, sprite,” he whispered in his rumbling voice.
“I know,” she whispered back and got another laugh. She released his wrist and grinned. “Where were we?”
Slowly, he slid his hand down over her mound and flattened it against her pussy. “I believe I was here.”
She shivered as her body sprang back to life. When he ran a finger up through her wetness, she sucked in a breath and then grinned at him. “No ropes. No cuffs. Are you sure you know how to do this without all that?”
He smiled slowly. “I thought I’d taught you that bondage can be more than just physical. Perhaps another lesson is indicated.”
And she remembered the rocks by the creek. Uh-oh.
He considered for a moment, then said, “Put your hands behind your head—lace your fingers.”
Her heart gave a jump. At the implacable look in his eyes, her body seemed to melt right down into the sleeping bag. The knowledge that he would insist she obey, would accept nothing less, somehow took her fears away. As if he stood between her and the world. She laced her fingers together.
He studied her. “Will having your arm in that position hurt your shoulder?”
Only a mild ache. “It’s okay.”
He gave a nod of approval. “Very good.” Smiling, he grasped her hair and tilted her face toward him, supporting himself on that elbow. He kissed her, deeply, thoroughly, as if asserting his possession, kissed her until her toes curled and her skin sizzled as if she’d been sunning all day.
After licking a finger, he ran it in a circle around one nipple, then the other. Desire surged through her, increasing with every repetition. She looked up at him and realized his gaze was focused on her face, not her breasts—watching her responses. From the way the corners of his eyes crinkled, from the way he claimed a kiss, she’d pleased him.
When he leaned back, cold air drifted in from the open sleeping bag, contracting her nipples to hard, jutting buds. His lips captured one, his mouth as hot as a furnace. He lifted his head, and air wafted across the wet nipple. He tongued the other. Hot. Cold. One, then the other. Her breasts swelled to aching tightness, and when he sucked strongly, her back arched as an electric current ran straight down to her pussy.
Her clit throbbed, slow and heavy. She needed more. His cock touched her thigh, the heat compelling. She raised her leg to press against it. “Stop teasing me and get—”
He pinched one nipple, and the edgy sting made her insides clench. “I will tease you”—he pinched the other breast—“anytime I want, little sub.” His teeth closed on a nipple, holding it to the point of pain while his tongue flickered over the very peak. Her arms tensed; she wanted to touch, was afraid to move.
He slid a hand down her stomach, right to where she throbbed, and touched her with light strokes that only intensified her need. “Your clit is pushed out and swollen,” he whispered in her ear. “Slick and aching for my hand.”
She moaned and grabbed his shoulder, blinking up at him when he growled in disapproval. He removed his hand from her pussy and lifted his eyebrows at her.
Everything down there throbbed, and she whimpered, “Please.”
No answer.
She unclenched her fingers from his shoulder and forced herself to put her hands back under her head. Looking up at him, she managed not to beg.
His cheek creased, tempting her to touch. “Very good. Now open your legs wider.”
She slid her thighs outward, and his hand flattened on her pussy, increasing the fire.
“There we go,” he murmured. “Bound, whether by my will or my rope, open to me in all ways.”
She shivered, unable to take her eyes from his face.
“This is how things will be between us, sprite,” he said, his gaze level. “At least in the bedroom. Is this what you want?” His finger circled her clit until the pulsing encompassed her entire pussy.
“Yes. No.” She shook her head, trembling with the need to move. Her own submission increased her arousal to fever pitch. Think, Kallie. His touch slowed… “Not all the time, right? You won’t try to make me…”
He paused. “No, Kalinda. I don’t want a slave—except in the bedroom.” His smile flashed, and he teased the edge of her clit, the flicking touches igniting sp
arks everywhere. “In the bedroom, however, you will submit. Willingly. Respectfully. Giving me everything that is in you.”
His eyes held hers as he released her hair, as he moved on top of her. His cock, thick and hard, slid into her wetness, stretching her. The feeling of being held in place as he pushed deep inside her—her face and feelings exposed, her most private areas available to whatever he wanted—shook her. Melted her.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, Jake.”
“Good.” He kissed her again, so tenderly she sighed. As he drew back, he smiled down at her, and his pleased expression wakened a spark of defiance. Had it all his own way, hadn’t he?
He shouldn’t have life so easy. With a sudden wrestling move Morgan had taught her years before, she reversed positions, rolling him onto his back, clamping her thighs around his hips, not letting him leave her.
“I think sometimes I should get to be on top,” she announced and started up a forceful rhythm. His rough laugh made her heart melt. The way he looked when he laughed…
To her surprise, he let her work, setting her own pace, and everything inside her tightened as her climax approached at the speed of light. Every movement pushed her clit against his groin, and she increased the speed. Almost…almost…
He brushed his fingers up from her thighs, avoiding the bruise on her left hip. His gaze swept over her face.
And then those hard hands grasped her hips in an implacable hold and pushed her bottom upward until only the tip of his cock teased her opening. “On top,” he murmured, letting her dip far enough for the thick head to enter her and leave. “But not in charge.”
So close. How could he do this to her? “You bastard,” she hissed.
His rough laugh broke through the quiet. “Try again. Sir…or Jake. Master works too, especially when you really want something.”
She really wanted his cock moving again. “Master. Please.”
He grinned and slammed her hips down, driving into her, sending shock waves through her. Lifted her slowly, yanked her down again, and the waves of excitement built with each thrust, piling higher onto each other until her brain turned off completely and every sense focused on the next stretching impalement.
Her clit engorged, growing excruciatingly sensitive, yet the pressure expanded from the inside this time, pushing past any control. Suddenly the tsunami broke, exploding outward in wave after wave of pleasure, soaring higher as she tried to buck and he held her firmly in place. Unrelenting, he forced another orgasm out of her before taking his own release in forceful, pulsing thrusts.
Her head spun as he pulled her down to lie over him, limp except for little explosions that continued to spasm inside her. She laid her cheek on his damp skin and tried to figure out where all the air had gone. She could hear the strong, even beat of his heart.
Under her ear, his voice rumbled through his chest. “You brighten my life, Kalinda. I love you.”
As if his words had echoed into the sky, the golden rays of the sun glimmered over the distant white-capped mountains. Sunrise. As it lightened his face, she lifted up enough to stare down at him, at the hard cheekbones, the strong jaw. Someone she could lean on, yet who valued what she had to offer. Someone she could fight with—and who she’d have to keep from stepping in front of her. Someone who loved her.
And God, she loved him. “I lo—” She choked on the words and then remembered she didn’t have to hold them back. “I love you.”
His eyes crinkled, and he caressed her cheek, holding her gaze with his. “I love you, Kallie Masterson,” he murmured. “And I’ll be telling you often so there’re no misunderstandings.”
Would there ever come a time when his words didn’t send a surge of joy through her? She lifted her hand to trace his confident face, the mouth that curved under her fingers. “Are you really sure?”
“Completely.” He rolled them over, putting her under him. His weight on her felt right, and she ran her hands up his biceps. He kissed her slowly. “And we’ll be getting married before the year is out.”
“Married?” She blinked and frowned, trying to ignore the thrill of happiness. “Aren’t you supposed to ask me?”
“All right,” he said with a deceptively agreeable smile. He ran a finger over her damp lower lip. “Do you want the wedding this month or next month?”
He sounded far too smug. She bit his finger—hard.
“Dammit,” he swore, his complacent attitude disappearing like morning fog.
She giggled—and then he flipped her onto her stomach, and brought his hand down.
Major mistake. Ow, ow, ow!
First he spanked her.
Then he kept her on the edge of orgasm until her cries echoed through the mountain valleys.
Then he took her so hard she might never walk again.
An hour later, he smiled down at her and repeated the question. “So. Do you want the wedding this month or next month?”
When her head stopped spinning and she could breathe again, she managed to answer. “This month. Master. Sir. Oh captain of the universe.” Oh honestly, just listen to her—what a wimp. She frowned at him. “You know, your new carving is going to have a really little penis.”
His deep laugh rang through the clearing, and then his gaze focused on her, the heat almost perceptible. “So disrespectful,” he murmured. “Looks like we’ll have to do it all again until you get it right.”
Hellfire. Her bottom still hurt. She glared at him, and then closed her eyes as various threats ran through her mind. I’m going to glue brass balls onto your carving…and give it to you for Christmas…in public.
Jake cupped her cheek and had to smile. Tough and soft and sweet. My sub. My love…my problem. He could almost hear Kallie’s thoughts racing, and considering the expression on her face, whatever she was planning involved him—and not in a good way. He narrowed his eyes and studied her suspiciously.
A minute later, she looked up and saw his face. Her husky laugh rang out through the clearing, as open and happy as he’d never heard it before. “I love you, Jake Hunt, and you know what? You love me back.”
Damn straight.
Loose Id Titles by Cherise Sinclair
Master of the Abyss
Master of the Mountain
The Dom’s Dungeon
The Starlight Rite
The MASTERS OF THE SHADOWLANDS Series
Club Shadowlands
Dark Citadel
Breaking Free
Lean on Me
“Simon Says: Mine”
Part of the anthology Doms of Dark Haven
With Sierra Cartwright and Belinda McBride
Cherise Sinclair
Now everyone thinks summer romances never go anywhere, right? Well…that’s not always true.
I met my dearheart when vacationing in the Caribbean. Now I won’t say it was love at first sight. Actually, since he was standing over me, enjoying the view down my swimsuit top, I might even have been a tad peeved—as well as attracted. But although our time together there was less than two days, and although we lived in opposite sides of the country, love can’t be corralled by time or space.
We’ve now been married for many, many years. (And he still looks down my swimsuit tops.)
Nowadays, I live in the west with this obnoxious, beloved husband, two children, and various animals, including three cats who rule the household. I’m a gardener, and I love nurturing small plants until they’re big and healthy and productive…and ripping defenseless weeds out by the roots when I’m angry. I enjoy thunderstorms, playing Scrabble and Risk, and being a soccer mom. My favorite way to spend an evening is curled up on a couch next to the master of my heart, watching the fire, reading, and…well…if you’re reading this book, you obviously know what else happens in front of fires. :)
Cherise
Visit Cherise Sinclair on the web at www.CheriseSinclair.com
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