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

by Julie Shelton

  “No complaints on this end.” She grinned, letting him take her hand and pull her up off the blanket, which he proceeded to fold. “Do you…um…do you ravish many ladies here?” Omigod, I can’t believe I just asked that! She bit her lip as her cheeks heated.

  He stopped, turning to face her. When she couldn’t raise her head to look at him, he curled his fingers beneath her chin and lifted her gaze to his. “I have never brought any woman to this spot, Leah. You are the first and only woman I have ever, or will ever, share this place with.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “Even if you decide to return to your life in San Francisco, there will never be another woman in this place.”

  “This place is very special to you, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. I come here whenever I need to unwind. Or meditate.” He hesitated. “Or pray.”

  “You pray?” she asked curiously.

  “Yes. To the spirits of nature. They are all strong in this place. Earth, air, sun-fire, and water. I know they watch over me and that’s why I wanted to make love with you here. So they would see how special you are to me and know to watch over you, too. Not just here, but wherever you go.”

  Tears clogged her throat, welling up in her eyes. God, where did he find the words he used? He was a SEAL. A warrior. A man whose character had been shaped by poverty, neglect, tragedy, and violence. Yet his words were like poetry. Like a song so beautiful, it ravishes the heart. She just stared up at him, unable to put thoughts into words. How could she even think of leaving someone whose every word was spoken straight from the heart?

  As Clay watched, one lone tear spilled over her lower lid and started down her cheek. He bent his head and licked it away with the tip of his tongue, absorbing the chaos of her emotions into himself. Into that deep, inner stillness that was at the core of his being. “C’mon, baby. Let’s get back to the house. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

  The ride back to the house was uneventful. Too hungry to shower first, they raided the sub-zero freezer and found that Hector had left stacks of neatly-labeled casserole dishes with the names of the meal and the dates they were to be eaten written on strips of masking tape. Nothing like a former Navy man to keep things neatly organized. They decided on spaghetti, nuking some frozen sauce, heating three loaves of frozen garlic bread in the oven, and boiling angel hair pasta because that cooked the fastest. Leah was just slicing the last radish into an enormous bowl of salad when Mitch, Ray, Al, Mark, and Rusty came walking into the kitchen, and she had to suppress a laugh.

  They had dressed up! No more dusty boots, jeans and hats. No more sweat-matted hair. No more hay clinging to their clothes. To a man they were combed, spit-shined and polished. Mitch had even shaved! Clay watched, bemused, as the five men fell all over themselves practically fighting to be the first to pull out Leah’s chair, get her something to drink, fill her plate with food.

  As they talked, she learned more about each one. Ray Sadler wanted to go to college and major in animal husbandry so he could open a sanctuary for wild mustangs. Mitch Thompson wrote his own songs and performed with his band, The Midnight Riders, every Friday and Saturday night at Passion Lake Lodge. Rusty Madison was studying to be a big animal vet. Al Eaglefeather was happy exactly where he was. He loved working for Clay and he loved the woman he was courting, one Linda Patterson, a retired NYPD Lieutenant who had come to Passion Lake to do a little fishing and had liked it so much she’d decided to stay. She was now Passion Lake’s only female deputy sheriff. Mark Austin had grown up around thirty miles down the road from Passion Lake, in the little town of Marshall’s Creek, and he was more than Clay’s foreman. He was also a junior partner in Clay’s fledgling horse breeding business. He lived in his own house, a log cabin set in a wooded copse, a little farther down the driveway.

  After dinner, the guys put the dishes in the dishwasher, cleaned up the kitchen, and left. “See you later, Leah”

  “Later?” She just looked at them blankly.

  “At the town meeting.”

  “Oh. Right. The shareholders’ meeting.” She’d forgotten all about that.

  “What time does the meeting start?” she asked Clay after they’d left, letting the kitchen door slam shut.

  “Eight o’clock. Why don’t we go grab a shower and then you can call your Uncle Everett, let him know you’re okay.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet.” His grin was wicked. “You have no idea what awaits you in…The Shower!” He lunged for her, sending her scampering out of the kitchen, squealing with delight. She dashed up the stairs and down the hall into their bedroom with Clay right behind her, uttering deep-throated growls. “You’d better run, little girl. You are about to be ravished!”

  Laughing so hard her stomach hurt, she threw herself onto the bed, yelling, “No, no, I’m an innocent virgin, please don’t ravish me, Mister. I’ll be good, I promise.”

  “Oh, but I don’t want you to be good,” he said, looming over her and leering down at her as he unzipped her jeans. She lifted her hips to facilitate their removal, along with her sneakers. “I want you to be bad. Very”—he blew a raspberry against her belly—“very”—another raspberry against the top of her mound, his hands reaching for the hem of her tee—“bad.” Shoving her T-shirt up around her neck, he grabbed her breasts and pushed them together.

  Raising up, he lowered his head between them, alternating between giving her more raspberries and shaking it rapidly back and forth, making her arch her back and cry out with pleasure. He lifted his head to look at her.

  She put her fingertip to her lips and batted her eyelashes, giving him her best wide-eyed look of virgin innocence. “Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir. For you, I can be very. Very. Very. Bad.

  He laughed, a sound of pure, unadulterated joy. God, I love this woman! Shoving the shirt over her head, he backed off the bed and hefted her over one shoulder, carrying her squealing and kicking—and naked—into the bathroom. He set her down and turned on the water, stripping off his clothes before ushering her into the shower, stepping in behind her. Like the last shower they took together, he washed and rinsed her hair and every inch of her body before sinking to his knees, slanting his head, and sliding his tongue through her slit.

  A shuddering cry split her throat and she fell forward, grabbing his shoulders to keep her knees from giving way. As he plowed his tongue up and down her furrow, she spread her legs to give him better access. He tongued her to a rapid orgasm, then took his time coaxing her to a second, gentler one. When her convulsions finally ceased, he stood up, grabbed her shoulders, and guided her backwards to the bench seat at the end of the stall. “Inspection’s over, baby. Sit here while I wash myself.”

  “Inspection?”

  He grinned. “One of those periodic inspections I told you I would need to conduct from time to time, remember? To make sure your pussy is nice and smooth. And tasty,” he added, his grin widening.

  “It’s been less than a day. How hairy can it be?”

  She was kidding. He was not. “You’ll need to shave again in the morning.”

  She gulped. “Yes, sir.”

  “Now, sit,” he repeated, his lips quirking when she just stared at him blankly. “You know, you bend your knees, put your butt on a flat surface? I know you can do it, I’ve seen you.”

  She sat. And watched him as he quickly washed himself. Her mouth watered as his muscles bulged and flexed and rippled. He was a magnificent example of the human male.

  When he was done, he dried both of them and guided her over to the counter between the two hammered-copper vessel sinks. “Lean over the counter, love.”

  Startled by his demand, she found herself obeying instantly. Clay opened a drawer and withdrew two objects, a shiny, stainless steel…thing and a slender tube. The steel object was smooth, with a rounded tip that flared out, sort of like a stylized cock head, then narrowed to a slender stem with a pink, jeweled button at the end. Her gaze flew to his. “What is that?”
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  He caressed her ass cheeks with one fingertip before lifting it to his mouth, wetting it, and sliding it between her ass crack, circling it around her puckered opening, making her shiver.

  “Have you ever taken a cock up your ass?”

  Holy crap! What kind of a question is that? “Um, no.”

  “Excellent. I will be the first person to fuck you there. Have you ever been plugged?”

  Huh? Plugged? “Ummmm.”

  “I’ll take that as a no.” He grinned at her in the mirror then held up the silver object. “This is a butt plug. It’s called a Princess plug because,” he tilted it so she could see the round, button end, “it has a sparkling jewel. So, when you wear it, the jewel covers your sweet little ass hole.”

  Wait. Wear it? “Umm. What do you mean, wear it?” She was pretty sure she wasn’t going to like his answer.

  “This part,” he rubbed his fingers up and down the flaring silver head, “goes inside your ass. Your sphincter closes around this part,” indicating the narrow stem, about as big around as a roll of dimes and about an inch long, “and the jewel goes, well,” he shrugged, “you know where the jewel goes.”

  For a long time, she just stared at him in the mirror, while she wrestled with her reaction, her inner turmoil reflected in her eyes. “Will it hurt?” she finally asked.

  “No, baby. The last thing in the world I would ever do is hurt you. That’s why I’m plugging you. To stretch you so you can take my cock more comfortably.”

  When her expression didn’t change, he added, “don’t worry, baby. I’ll use plenty of lube. And I’ll stretch you with my fingers before I put it in. This is all about trust. Do you trust me?”

  She sighed. “Yes, Sir.”

  “And it’s all about feeling. Wearing this plug will help you stay aware of your body, especially one of the parts of your body that I love most. Eventually, you will wear plugs in both your ass and your pussy, as well as clamps on your nipples, possibly even on your clit.”

  Holy shit!

  “I want you to be constantly thinking about what you mean to me. And about the pleasure I’ll be giving to you as soon as we’re alone again.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good girl. You won’t be disappointed, I promise.” He put his hand on her ass, letting out the breath he’d been holding. He shoved his hand between her legs and pushed two fingers through her slit and deep into her vagina, making her shiver and moan. Pulling his fingers out with a slurping sound, he sent them on a journey through her slit, scooping up her moisture until they were dripping with it. Then he drew his hand back, pressing the tip of his slippery thumb to her puckered little asshole, making her squirm. “Clay!”

  He watched his thumb with hot, hard eyes as he rimmed her puckered hole, sending little mewls of ecstasy warbling from her throat. Then he pushed, breaching the tight opening up to the first knuckle.

  Her breath exploded in a screech and her body tensed, anticipating pain. When none was forthcoming, she relaxed with a little laugh, allowing Clay to slide the rest of his thumb into her dark passage. Her breathing escalated, becoming ragged and choppy as he circled his thumb in ever-widening arcs inside her ass.

  He slid his fingers back up to her vagina, paused at her threshold for the span of a heartbeat before thrusting his first and third fingers inside, leaving his middle finger free to rub against her clit, ripping a shuddering cry from Leah’s lungs. “Do not come, Leah,” he ordered.

  What! Do not come! Was he crazy? His words were like alcohol poured over nerves scraped raw with need. How could he possibly expect her not to come? Her orgasm was building so rapidly, stopping it would be like trying to stop a runaway freight train. “I-I—”

  Curving his fingers and thumb, he grasped the thin membrane between her vagina and her ass and began thrusting in and out of both passages. Her head fell back, her back arched into a rigid bow as every muscle strained toward release. Her cries of pleasure blended together, becoming a high, keening wail. Wildfire raced through her, incinerating everything in its path, leaving her ability think, to speak, indeed, to do anything but feel, a smoldering pile of ash.

  “I mean it, Leah. Do not come until I give you permission.” With a sense of satisfaction, he noted the flush spreading across her skin, knowing her climax was rapidly approaching. He sped up the movements of his hand, finger-fucking her both anally and vaginally at the same time, pushing her to her limits, challenging her to disobey his direct order.

  “Clay! Clay, I can’t—I’m going to—”

  “Not yet, little sub.”

  “Omigod! Claaaayyyy! I’m—”

  “Hold it, Leah. For a count of five. Five.”

  Oh, my God! She bit her lip, squirming, bucking her hips, trying to stop the unstoppable. His fingers, fucking both her holes and rubbing her clit, sent chills sliding like ice up her spine. She’d never experienced pleasure this raw, this dark, this soul-destroying.

  “Four.”

  Her muscles tightened, her body began to soar. She bit her lip so hard it was a wonder she didn’t draw blood. Hurry. Hurry. Oh, my God, hurryhurryhurryhurryhurry!

  “Three.

  She moaned, squirming her hips and twisting her shoulders in a desperate struggle to stave off the inevitable. “Please…please…”

  “Two.” Her ass cheeks quivered like jelly with every thrust of his hand. “One. Come, Leah. Come now.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Her body seized, then detonated like a nuclear bomb. She screamed as her orgasm obliterated her with the force of an avalanche, sweeping her away on a wave of pleasure so immense she wasn’t sure she’d survive it. The wave toppled over, dropping her into a trough, barely giving her enough time to suck in another lungful of air, before expelling it on another scream as the next wave broke over her, tumbling her head over heels through the turbulence.

  Clay’s fingers remained inside her, stroking, moving, maintaining her climax even as he built her arousal back up to fever pitch. “Good girl,” he kept saying over and over as her writhing body began to tighten and strain toward yet another release. “Good girl. That’s it. Reach for it. Now give me one more.”

  And she crested again, her second orgasm lifting her high, higher, higher, then crashing her against the sheer cliff and the rocks below. Her muscles flexed around his fingers, holding them inside her where they continued to stimulate her into a third orgasm, a gentler one, but a longer one, one that simply rolled through her body like an earthquake rolls through the ground, heaving and convulsing and rending asunder. An earthquake that Clay kept in motion for several long, excruciating minutes simply by moving his fingers…there, just…yes, there, keeping her shuddering and spasming and all lit up like a bonfire. Until he had wrung every last drop of pleasure from her. Until the only sound left in the room was their breathing, harsh and erratic and painfully loud to Leah’s ears.

  He withdrew his hand and straightened away from her, picking up the tube of lube. She gasped as something cold dribbled down her ass crack. “That’s just lube,” Clay explained as he began rubbing the slippery gel around her rosebud.

  She felt the tip of the tube breach her opening and heard the squelching sound it made as he squirted some into her back passage. The cold gel bursting into that hot, dark place made her shiver.

  “Reach back and hold your ass cheeks open,” he instructed. “That will help open you up.”

  Cheeks flushing a bright, cherry red, she did as she was told. Every nerve ending in her body was still tingling. Geez! How can he sound so…so normal?

  “Watch me in the mirror.”

  Her gaze lifted to watch his hands as he slathered lube on the plug and pressed it against her pucker. “Relax your muscles, baby.” His eyes darkened as the stainless steel plug started to disappear into her widening hole. “That’s it, that’s it.”

  Leah let out a shivery little cry.

  Instantly Clay stopped. “Did that hurt?” he asked with a frown.

  “No,
no. It feels…good.”

  He laughed, continuing to push the plug into her ass, watching her squirm with pleasure as it slowly disappeared inside her passage.. “You sound surprised.”

  She lowered her head, trying to stifle her moan as the stretching tissue began to burn.

  “Relax, baby. Push back against it.”

  She pushed and to her utter shock, the plug slipped inside and her sphincter closed around the stem. Clay pressed it in farther until the pink jewel nestled snugly against her hole, twinkling in the bright bathroom light. “How does it feel?”

  She straightened cautiously. It felt odd. It wasn’t painful, exactly, but she was definitely aware of it. Her eyes met his in the mirror. “It feels…good.”

  He just smiled. “It will feel even better tonight.”

  “Why? What’s going to happen tonight?”

  “I’m going to fuck you while you’re still wearing it. You won’t believe how good that’s going to feel.” He held out his hand. “Come on, baby, let’s get dressed so you can call your uncle.”

  She selected a black, silk pencil skirt and a deep purple satin blouse to wear to the meeting. An amethyst pendant and earrings completed her look. Glancing at her watch, she took the phone Clay handed her and began punching numbers. “It’s only four-thirty there, so he’s probably at the gallery,” she said, as much to herself as to Clay. She put the phone to her ear and waited. After a moment she looked up at Clay, worry creasing her brow.

  “What?” he said, instantly alert, watching as she hit redial and lifted it to her ear once again.

  “Nobody’s answering. All I’m getting is the night message. We always take that off during business hours.” She looked at her watch again, thinking maybe she’d misread it. “He should be there.”

  “Okay, okay, don’t panic,” he said soothingly, sensing she was about to do exactly that. “Call his cell phone. I’m sure he’ll have a perfectly logical explanation. Put it on speaker.”