Passion's Dream (The Doms of Passion Lake Book 1)

by Julie Shelton

  “Yes,” she admitted, thinking of all the times Richard had brought influential clients home for dinner at the last minute without bothering to tell her beforehand. After their fifth or sixth fight over his inconsiderate behavior, which he’d always managed to turn around and make her fault, she’d started preparing and freezing gourmet meals that could be quickly re-heated and served to however many people he’d brought home. After she quit making a fuss about it, he had quit doing it.

  “Everything that didn’t go according to plan was your fault,” Clay persisted as they crossed the bridge over the Intracoastal Waterway. This time the drawbridge was down and they quickly passed through West Palm Beach and up the ramp onto I-95 North.

  She bit her lip. “Yes.”

  “And, once you were married, he either ignored you or constantly criticized you and put you down.”

  She just cringed as his words summed up the cruel sham that her marriage had ultimately been. “He told you that you were frigid, no good in bed, incapable of satisfying him, or any man, sexually.”

  Cheeks flaming with humiliation, she ducked her head, “Yes.” Her tiny whisper was barely audible. “H-he called me ‘Ice Princess.’ In front of everybody—his co-workers, his colleagues, his clients, even mere acquaintances. He kept telling me I was f-fat. That he hated my big boobs and fat ass.”

  Clay’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. Christ, what he wouldn’t give to have his arms around her right now so he could kiss her and give her the reassurance she needed. Instead he did the next best thing. He put out his right hand and placed it on her thigh. “Look at me, Leah.” He waited for her to gather herself together and turn her gaze to his. He risked a glance over at her. “Your ex is a moron. There is a difference between fat and voluptuous, and you are definitely voluptuous. Any man worthy of the name prefers his woman to have some meat on her. You are also the most responsive woman I’ve ever met. When you kissed me this morning, and last night in the pool, it was with such heat, such passion, it was all I could do not to rip your clothes off and fuck you senseless. Right now, you’re so aroused I can smell you. It’s filling the car like a cloud and it’s driving me fucking crazy.” He grabbed her hand and brought it over to his crotch, fitting her fingers around the rock solid contours of his erection His breath stalled at the carnal sight. “Feel that. See what you do to me? My cock is so hard, I’m afraid it’s going to break off. All I want to do is roll you beneath me and fuck you until neither one of us can walk.” He risked another quick glance. She was still looking at him, her lower lip caught between her teeth. “You caused that. You. And by doing nothing more than being who and what you are.”

  “And what would that be?” she asked, watching his sculpted model’s lips, mesmerized by the way they moved, the way they shaped each word, each syllable. Her fingers tightened around his cock, both of them hissing when it jerked and grew even harder beneath her touch. Her clit was throbbing, her pussy gushing, and the heartbeat hammering in her ears was so loud, she nearly missed his next words.

  “What are you? You’re a woman who’s ready to give yourself to the right man. A man who is ready to accept your complete surrender and who will treasure and honor that surrender. Who will take the power you give him and use it to guide you on a sensual journey to heights of pleasure you’ve never even dreamed possible, because no one has ever valued you enough to take you there. The man who will give you the freedom to claim fully what you already are, a naturally submissive woman.” He finished, watching her carefully for her reaction to his words.

  She swallowed hard. And are you that man, she wanted to ask, but was too afraid he’d say no. Instead, she just stared at him, her eyes troubled. “You mean ‘submissive’, like in Dominance/submission? BDSM?”

  “Yes.” His relief that she was at least familiar with the term was short-lived. He frowned. “What do you know about D/s?”

  ‘Only what I’ve read on the internet,” she admitted. “Three years ago, after our encounter on the beach, I tried to tell Uncle Everett how you had made me feel, and he suggested I look it up.” She blinked. “The more I read about the powerful dynamic between a Dom and his sub, the more I suspected that part of the reason I had reacted to you so strongly was that you were a Dom. You are, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.” He noticed her slight frown and waited patiently for her to voice her concerns.

  “So I guess that makes me a submissive.” She ducked her head, avoiding his gaze, removing her hand from his lap and putting it in her own. “Are you going to want to…you know…”she shrugged, cringing inwardly at the very thought”…whip me? Or—”

  “Never.”

  Her breath whooshed out in relief and her face brightened into a smile.

  “I might flog you,” he warned, chuckling when her face fell once again, “and I will definitely spank you. But—and this is a big but, Leah, so listen carefully—I guarantee you will enjoy every minute of it.”

  At her skeptical look, he laughed. “Tell you what. If you don’t enjoy all the things I plan to do to you, I will personally march down to the Grand National Headquarters of Dominators, Incorporated and turn in my Secret Dom Decoder Ring and Handbook. Not only that, I will also resign my position as Exalted Grand High Poobah, Supreme Imperial Overlord and Bake Sale Coordinator of the Southeast Chapter of Dominators, Inc., just so you’ll know I mean business.” His grin turned sly. “Of course, I’ll miss their monthly meetings, but, hey,” he shrugged, “if that’s what it takes. A guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do.”

  She laughed. “Grand…Poobah, Exalted…something Overlord?”

  “And Bake Sale Coordinator.” He smirked. “But only of the Southeast Chapter,” he added modestly. “You can turn on some music if you want,” he offered, “and the seat back goes down if you get tired. You might as well make yourself comfortable. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “A little town my buddies and I created called Passion Lake, Virginia.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “Not surprising. It’s only two years old. It’s not even on any maps yet.”

  “You just…created an entire town?”

  “Yup.”

  “How do you do that?”

  “You buy an old town that’s bankrupt and change the name. Then you build up a base of businesses that will actually bring in revenue and expand from there. We purchased 13 square miles of land around a derelict town by the name of Porterfield. The land includes a few established farms, a large, deep lake that’s well-stocked with fish, several smaller lakes and a few streams, a forest, even an old World War I-era airfield. Nik and Jay, two of my buddies built a large lodge with half a dozen log cabins and an adjoining campground that they rent out to tourists who like to fish, boat, and hike. The Lodge has a bar that also serves food. Another buddy, Caleb, and his brothers, Simon and Ash, bought the old World War One-era airfield. Simon now operates a small, luxury charter airline, plus a crop dusting business and a sight-seeing helicopter business. Ash is a professional photographer. Caleb’s the sheriff.”

  “Wow.”

  He nodded. “We moved the main street closer to the lake and now boast a bakery/slash/coffee shop, a combination gas station and Mini-Mart, a repair garage owned by another buddy who’s a mechanical genius and can fix anything with a motor, a store that sells outdoor gear and camping equipment, several really fine restaurants, and a toy store.”

  “A toy store?” Leah asked. “How odd.” How could a toy story possibly do enough business in a town such as Clay was describing?

  “Yes. Granny Grace’s Tea Shoppe and Toy Emporium.” Clay laughed at the puzzled expression on her face. “It’s an adult toy store. Granny Grace is one of the residents of the former town of Porterfield. She lived in a lovely Victorian house in the center of the old town and was the last person to sign off on the deal. But only if we agreed to move her entire house out to the new town center and set it up in a
place of prominence, beneath some big old oak trees like it was in the old town. So we did. It’s now the Passion Lake Bed and Breakfast, the first building you see as you approach the town along the new Main Street and I have to say it’s pretty damned impressive. All my buddies and I completely refurbished it, in and out, and it looks gorgeous. So good, in fact, we moved a few other old houses from the surrounding countryside into town and have been fixing them up, too. Plus building houses of our own. It’s been a busy couple of years.” And he had needed every second of that time to decompress from the stress of that last undercover assignment. Dealing with cruel, vicious, amoral slave traders and pretending to be just like them had taken its toll and Clay had spent the last year buried in back-breaking, mind-numbing work and seeking solace in native rituals designed to ease his spirit and heal his soul.

  “So what is your place like?” Leah asked into the silence that had descended into the car’s interior.

  “I own a ranch. A horse ranch. I have five prize stallions, so part of my business is a breeding program. The other part is supplying rides for the tourists and campers. We established trails up through the foothills to a waterfall and the top of a rocky cliff.”

  Leah was impressed. “Wow. Sounds like you guys are really serious about this.”

  “We are.” He paused, letting the silence stretch, wondering just how much he should tell her. “We—we’re all into kink, the BDSM way of life. We all belong to a BDSM club around thirty miles away from Passion Lake. It’s owned and operated by two former teammates of ours and their wife.”

  “Their wife?” Leah asked, not sure she’d heard correctly.

  “Yeah.” He turned to look at her. “They’re both married to her, in deed if not in fact. I’ve never seen three people more in love than Jesse, Adam and Sarah. They were part of the inspiration for establishing Passion Lake. Sarah helped us with all the legal stuff—she’s an attorney.”

  “I’d love to meet them,” Leah murmured.

  “Oh, you will. I’m planning to take you to their club, if not this week-end, then the next one.”

  She looked at him, aghast. “You’re taking me to a sex club?” she asked, horrified at the very idea.

  “Don’t worry,” he chuckled. “By the time Friday night rolls around, you’ll be more than ready to go to a sex club. You’ll be begging me to take you.” In more ways than one

  Catching the double entendre, Leah subsided in her seat, lower lip caught between her teeth. His words were like an aphrodisiac, sending her belly plummeting to her feet. Her panties were wet and getting wetter by the second. Turning her head, she looked out the window at the passing scenery. But she didn’t see any of it. She was too busy trying to decide what to do. Except…she already had decided—three years ago. She was going to give herself to this man. She knew it and he knew it. She was going to entrust her body, her heart, her very life into his care and hope she was not making the worst mistake of her life.

  They drove for ten hours, stopping only for gas, bathroom breaks, and fast food, which they ate on the road, until finally Clay pulled off the Interstate somewhere in North Carolina and pulled into the parking lot of a chain motel. As soon as he turned off the ignition, he twisted in his seat. His left hand shot out and curved around the back of Leah’s head, pulling her toward him, lifting her lips to meet his in an open-mouthed kiss that was filled with passion and promise. A kiss that was hard and uncompromising and brimming with hunger and raw, pulsing need. Pulling away slightly, he palmed the back of her neck and rested his forehead against hers, panting as if he’d just run the hundred meter sprint. Both of them were struggling to catch their breath.

  “One room or two?” he asked, his voice hoarse with arousal.

  She just smiled. “What do you think?”

  His grin was wicked. “Baby, you don’t wanna know what I’m thinking. You wanna grab a bite to eat first?” He nodded toward the restaurant attached to the motel. “The pancake house is still open.”

  She put her hand around the back of his head, threading her fingers through his long, silky hair, holding him in place while she angled her chin and started nibbling on his full lower lip. Then she slowly let her eyes drift up the hard, masculine contours of his face until they met his. When she spoke her voice was as husky as his. “It’s not pancakes I’m hungry for.”

  “Right.” Without releasing her gaze, he unbuckled his seat belt and opened the door. He backed out of the car, his movements graceful and unhurried despite what had to be a very painful hard-on. “Hold that thought.”

  Within minutes he was back, driving them around to the back of the motel and parking in front of room 189. Without saying a word, he came around and opened her door for her, then made short work of getting their luggage out of the trunk and ushering her inside the room. Dropping the bags on the floor, he pulled her into his arms and his mouth once again descended on hers, crushing her resistance.

  Ha! Like she had any left. Juice gushed from her pussy. By now her panties were so wet they had soaked through to her jeans. She could smell herself and knew he could smell her, too. His next words confirmed it.

  “Christ, Leah, you smell so sweet, so ripe, so ready for the taking”. He groaned against her mouth and all of a sudden, control gone, he realized he was slamming her against the door. Her legs flew around his waist, placing her heated pussy against his denim-covered cock and suddenly they were yanking at each other’s clothes in a frenzy to get them off. Mouths still fused, she wrestled with the buttons on his shirt, while he pushed up her tee, baring her breasts. Oh, my God, these are so goddamn perfect. His breathing roughened as he palmed her breasts, abrading her taut nipples, sliding his hands beneath them, lifting them, squeezing them together, and smashing them flat against her chest, swallowing her little squeals of pleasure. He tore his mouth away from hers. “I never want to hear you call yourself fat again. These breasts are perfect. Most women would kill to have them. And your ass is the most beautiful ass I’ve ever seen. So if you ever badmouth yourself again, you will get a spanking, do you understand me?”

  Swallowing hard, she nodded. Frantic to feel his skin against hers, she yanked the final button through the button hole and pushed his shirt off his shoulders, halfway down his arms. Pressing her breasts against the hard contours of his chest, she threw her arms around his back in a tight embrace. Their mouths ripped apart, the breath sawing in and out of their lungs.

  “Stand up a sec,” he ordered.

  She whimpered in protest, but lowered her legs. He unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans and pushed them down her legs along with her sodden panties.

  “Step out,”

  Quickly she toed off her shoes and stepped out. In the meantime, he was busy unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans—Good Lord, he’s not wearing any underwear—shoving them down around his thighs, revealing his enormous cock, dark purple-y red and dripping pre-cum like a leaky faucet. Oh. My. God. She stared at it, dry-mouthed, as it sprang free from its denim prison, straightening and seeming to grow before her very eyes. His testicles hung beneath it like two ripe plums. Then she lost sight of it as he bent nearly double to shove his jeans down around his ankles. He had to leave them there because they were too tight to get off over his shoes.

  Swiftly he straightened, pulled her tee over her head, and shrugged out of his own shirt, dropping both on the floor with her jeans. Grabbing her beneath her ass, he lifted her. She threw her legs around him and let out a shuddering moan as she felt the flared head of his cock probe the entrance to her pussy. Oh, God, yes! She’d never been so aroused in her life. Had never thought she was even capable of being so aroused. She, who had never had an orgasm from a man was about to have one that was going to be epic! Yes! Yes! Her breaths were coming in short, sharp pants as he pressed her back against the door with his upper body and began to push inside her.

  Suddenly he flexed his hips backward, pulling out of her. “Leah—“

  “Noooo,” she moaned. “Don’t stop. Why
did you stop?”

  A groan ripped from his throat. He pressed his forehead to hers. “Condom.”

  “Noooo.”

  “Yes. Stand up, baby.”

  “Noooo,” she protested again, even as she loosened her legs and let them fall to the floor. He bent down and grabbed his jeans, yanking them back up his legs so hard, he lost his balance and nearly fell flat on his face. Righting himself with effort, he dug his hand into his back pocket and seized his wallet, but the stupid thing wouldn’t come out. Christ, it was stuck! Of all the goddamn—with one last yank, the wallet came free. Finally! Jesus! Flipping it open, he retrieved a foil packet. Dropping the wallet, he ripped open the wrapper and sheathed himself in the latex.

  Leah’s hands went to his bare shoulders. She was bouncing up and down in her impatience. “Clay, hurry. Please. Fuck me. I want to feel you inside me, I need to feel you inside me.”

  God, he needed that, too. More than he’d ever needed anything in his life. “I know, baby, I know. But I’ve never gone bareback before.”

  She opened her eyes to find him staring at her. “I-I’m clean, Clay,” she said with a little hitch in her voice. “After Richard’s philandering, I had myself tested, just to reassure myself.”

  He paused at her words. She was reassuring him! Usually it was the other way around.

  “No, baby, that’s not it. I trust you. I just want to make sure you’re safe. That you do trust me.”

  “Please, Clay, I trust you. I know you would never hurt me. And I’m on the pill.”

  His face was agony as need wrestled with caution. God forgive him, he was actually thinking about it, thinking about how delicious it would feel to slide into her welcoming sheath and feel her heated wetness bathing his skin. He’d never felt that before and to feel it with this woman, of all women—Lips compressed, he shook his head. “I want to, Leah. God knows, I want that more than anything. But this is not something we can decide right now. This is something we can negotiate later when we’re both thinking straight and not driven by sheer lust. So for now…”