by Anya Summers
Her body coiled in on itself as he added a third finger and then a fourth until they were gliding unimpeded. She kept her gaze on him as pleasure swamped her. In the mirror’s reflection, his hand was seesawing in and out.
When he removed his hand from her bottom, she whimpered. Except, in the mirror, she watched as he undid his jeans and freed his cock. Gripping his shaft, he poured lube over his turgid shaft and added another dollop of lubricant to her rosette, then fit the crown at the entrance to her rear.
“Eyes on me,” he commanded, holding her gaze in the mirror.
Then his hips rolled, and the head pressed inside. His large cock stretched her almost painfully. She stiffened at the intrusion. But then he withdrew and thrust again, going deeper this time. Stretching her further. With every thrust, his cock drove further inside.
Emily’s skin felt stretched. Her rear was on fire. Her pussy throbbed. And through it all, she watched Mason’s expression. The way his jaw clenched in concentration as he furrowed his shaft deeper and deeper in her ass until his full length was embedded. Her nerve endings erupted. Lightning flashed and burned through her core.
The possession in his glance. The way he stared at her, as if he owned her, as if she belonged to him, as if she was precious to him. She moaned as he thrust, slowly at first, testing her body. She shivered and trembled. The butt plugs had been one thing. But this experience was something else entirely.
She hadn’t realized how sensitive these tissues were. Or how aroused it would make her to have his cock pumping inside her ass. Or how her pussy would throb in time with his thrusts. Her mouth hung open on a series of deep, guttural moans.
She felt herself spiral. She felt herself let go. She gave herself to Mason in a way she’d never done with anyone. As his pace increased, his grunts combining with her moans, Emily understood she’d ceded him her heart and soul tonight. The importance of their joining this way was not lost on her. The fierce expression on his face as he gazed at her. The fury of his hips as he pistoned inside her back sheath.
He took her up a blinding precipice where nothing else existed but the two of them. She floated on a sea of intense pleasure which infused every part of her. She felt like they were fusing into one being. That they were no longer separate, but one unit, one heart, one soul. In his touch, in the way he moved with her, Emily felt his care, his heart—and her own responded.
It started at the base of her spine and blasted through her body like a rocket launch.
She screamed as she climaxed. Moaned as she felt him join her and semen flooded her rear.
Mason pumped inside her as he came, and Emily felt herself slipping off the precipice. The sound around them dimmed. She floated in a haze, like she was in a dream. She felt Mason move around behind her, undoing her restraints. Then he slid a blanket over her body and unlatched her cuffs from the horse.
Emily felt herself slipping. But Mason was there, lifting her up into his arms, wrapping her body more firmly in the blanket. He carried her over to a nearby couch where he settled them both and cuddled her against his chest.
“You did wonderfully tonight, Em. I’m proud of you,” he murmured with his lips pressed against her forehead. His hands glided tenderly over her.
“You too,” she replied, sleepily.
He chuckled darkly, the sound full of male pride, and then said, “Tell me about your family. When Carter mentioned them earlier it appeared to me that you didn’t like talking about them. You tensed when he brought them up.”
Still floating, she shrugged and said, “I just don’t fit with them. I never really have. I love them and they love me. But in their way.”
“And what is their way?”
“They aren’t overly affectionate. My parents tend to prize accomplishments—meaning money in the bank—over emotions. My mom’s a real estate agent, dad’s a heart surgeon. Both of them are in the top of their field. They don’t understand what I do, or care for it. My mom still has an office for me at her agency, ready for me the moment I get serious about life,” she said, unable to stop the resentment from seeping into her voice.
“I’m sorry,” he said, cuddling her close.
“It’s okay, really. I tried to be like them for a long time and it was killing my soul. When I applied and got in to Le Cordon Bleu, they acted as if I had decided to join a biker gang and had begun worshiping Satan.”
He tilted her face up, his gaze warm, and he said, “I think you’re very brave. It takes a lot of courage to go after what you want for your life, to be determined enough to succeed when you don’t have the support from those around you. It’s their loss, you know. That they can’t see your worth or just how amazing you truly are.”
She stroked his jaw. His shadow beard prickled over her skin. If she weren’t already in love with him, she would have fallen right then and there. Love for him inundated her. “Take me home, Mason.”
“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” His concern, his care for her almost made her weep.
“I’m fine, really. Better than fine, I just really want to go home and go to bed. Your bed,” she said, unable to voice her feelings yet.
His gaze darkened and he cast her a wicked grin. “That can be arranged.”
He carted her to the locker rooms, where he helped her dress. Her limbs were heavy, her body sated from their incredible scene. Once they were dressed, her coat fastened against the chill, Mason escorted her from the club.
In the cab of his truck, he pulled her close while he drove. She rested her head upon his shoulder, completely and utterly blissful.
And thoroughly, no holds barred, in love.
Chapter 22
During the week leading up to Oktoberfest, Mason worked nonstop. Everyone at the lodge did the same in preparation for the coming event, most of all, Emily. She was in the thick of it; directing, organizing, cooking up a storm.
Emily amazed him. Her dedication to making the Elkhorn a success. The fact that she was putting in a boatload of overtime between running the Elkhorn daily and pulling off the event this weekend. Mason didn’t know how she did it.
But it was the nights he looked forward to the most. By some tacit, unspoken agreement, Emily spent her nights with him, in his home, and his bed. There was a toothbrush for her in his bathroom. And she’d put some of her shampoo and soap in his shower stall. Little by little, she was becoming a solid fixture in his life.
He fucking loved it.
The newfound emotions kept him off-kilter and he wasn’t on solid footing yet. Before Emily’s advent into his life, he’d been perfectly content living the life of a bachelor, not being beholden to another. Not sharing his bathroom nor his bed. Claire had never breached the inner sanctuary of his house. All of their intimate relations had occurred either at the club or in her cabin.
But when it came to Emily, having her in his home and bed felt natural. It was like his life had been waiting for her arrival. And he was in this relationship with her for the long haul. Mason didn’t want any half measures where she was concerned.
It surprised the hell out of him, and he wasn’t necessarily comfortable with that knowledge. Nor was he ready to voice the turbulent sea of his emotions just yet. They would get there, in time. Mason had contacted their lawyer, Kent, and already had a new contract for Emily in the works. He planned to solidify her presence here. Ensure that she was here long term.
By Friday morning, the event had sold out. Mason and the rest of the Doms had spent the day erecting the tables, tents and booths. It was backbreaking work but, seeing the way it was all coming together, he knew it was going to be a success.
They’d closed the Elkhorn today, offering boxed lunches for meals to current guests. Emily had been in the kitchens all day long with Tibby, Faith, and a few of the line cooks from the Teton Cowboy. He could tell because the scents wafting on the breeze as they’d erected tents and tables made his mouth water.
The sun had set by the time he located her, up to her
elbows in kitchen prep.
“Emily. That’s enough for today. Everyone’s exhausted. You need a good night’s sleep,” he said, noticing the way she was dragging. The lines of fatigue around her eyes.
“Can’t right now. Way too much to do,” she said, ignoring him.
And this was where he would draw the line in the sand with her. As her Dom, it was his job to ensure she took care of herself, even when she was being stubborn and mule-headed. Not giving her a chance to tell him no, he scooped her up over his shoulder, then said, “Tibby, Faith, why don’t you two finish up whatever it is you’re doing in the next fifteen minutes and go home so you both can get a good night’s sleep?”
“Put me down, you overgrown jerk!” Emily screeched.
He banded an arm across her thighs and whacked her butt with his free hand. “Enough, Em. Tibby, Faith, I meant what I said. Please follow my orders,” Mason ordered.
They both replied, “Yes, Sir,” like the good little submissives they were.
The wildcat in his arms, however, was another story entirely. Emily sputtered and strained.
“Dammit, Mason, put me the fuck down,” she screeched.
He paid her little heed as he carted her out the back door and took the path up to his house. “Emily, it’s for your own good. We can’t have you so tired you’re falling on your ass tomorrow.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do! Fucking Neanderthal!” she snapped, flailing her arms.
He should have cuffed her first before hauling her out of the kitchen. But that was an oversight he would soon rectify. He smacked her bottom again. “Enough, Em. Settle the fuck down.”
“You settle down, you big jerk.”
Mason entered his house, heading back toward the stairs—at least, until he heard the distinct rumble in her belly. “When was the last time you had anything to eat?”
“It doesn’t matter. Set me down,” she snarled, gouging his back with her nails.
He course corrected, with Emily still struggling against him, and headed into the kitchen. Before he set her on her feet, he grabbed his cuffs off the table. He’d planned on presenting her with them, all ceremonial like, but she’d forced his hand. Mason lowered her feet to the floor but managed to hold on to her wrists. Emily tried yanking them out of his grasp but he was stronger.
“Mason, stop. Let me go.” She struggled against him.
“I wish I could. But you blatantly disobeyed me,” he growled.
“Disobeyed? Are you kidding me? You’re the one who came into my kitchen and started ordering me and my staff about. You crossed a line back there and you fucking know it. I’m so mad at you right now. You had no right,” she snapped.
Once her cuffs were fastened and her hands restrained together, he tilted her face up with his free hand until their gazes clashed. Her hazel eyes flashed, anger seething in her glare. He didn’t know why, but it aroused him like nothing else. She aroused him like no one else.
“Let’s get one thing straight. I’m your Dom. And as such, when I ask you to do something, I expect you to follow my command without question.”
“Screw you, asshole. No one comes into my kitchen and orders me about. You were out of line. I don’t care if we’re screwing each other, you had no right.”
“That does it. I have the only right, Em,” he said.
Mason maneuvered her over to the kitchen table, turned her around and bent her over it. He drew her arms behind her back and fastened the cuffs together. Then he held her down with one hand while the other unfastened her jeans, yanking them down with her panties. He shoved her chef’s jacket up so that it was bunched above her waist and left her bare bottom exposed.
“What the hell do you think you are doing? Unhand me, you—”
Thwack! His hand cracked against her bottom. At her screech, he growled.
“It’s my job to ensure you take care of yourself. You’re dead on your feet. And when I asked you to stop, you gave me lip in front of other submissives. That will not go unpunished. You earned this fucking spanking.”
He smacked her bottom and the sharp crack filled the kitchen. As did her muffled cries.
“I hate you,” she sniffled, making his heart ache.
“Lie. You enjoy provoking me. This wasn’t the first time and, with that mouth of yours, it certainly won’t be the last. Now take your punishment like a good submissive.”
He swatted her behind, enjoying the way the milky globes reddened beneath his palm. He didn’t miss the moisture now slicking her crease, or the fact that her yelps of startled pain had shifted into breathy mewls. Nor the fact that she tilted her hips up slightly, begging for his forceful stroke.
Christ, it made him so fucking hard. He loved watching this fierce woman bend to his command.
His woman.
He issued thirty whacks until her pretty heart-shaped ass was glowing ruby red. He stroked his fingers through her drenched folds, pleasure filling him at her startled, passion-infused gasp.
“Mason, please.”
“What did you call me?” he murmured, teasing her flesh. His fingers caressed the outer rim of her folds, enjoying the way she tried to squirm and direct his hand.
“Sir, please, I need you.”
“That’s my girl,” he growled and knelt behind her. He shoved her jeans down to her ankles and spread her thighs, then did what he’d been waiting to do all damn day. He tasted her. Swiped his tongue through her slick heat, reveling in the taste of her honeyed nectar.
At her startled moan, he grinned before sucking her little nub into his mouth. Curling his tongue around the bud, he swished his tongue in circles around her clit. He licked her. Her scent invaded his nostrils and taste flooded his mouth. Then he ate at her pussy like a man starved. He wasn’t gentle. He feasted. Flicking his tongue repeatedly over her clit, loving the way it swelled and engorged for him.
His hands gripped her hips, not letting her wriggle or move as he commanded a response from her body. She was more malleable after a few good orgasms. Thrusting his tongue inside her sheath, he penetrated her and relished the way her tissues clamped around his tongue as if trying to draw his appendage deeper.
Emily’s sweet, throaty moans were music to his ears. His dick throbbed in his jeans, aching to feel her the hot clasp of her pussy.
“Come for me,” he growled against her cunt. He pinched her clit between his thumb and forefinger as he plunged his tongue inside her.
Her body jerked, her hips bucked, and moisture flooded his tongue.
“Mason, Sir. Oh God!” she cried.
Then he stood, ready to take her. He unzipped his jeans and then said, “Shit. Em, I’ll be right back. I need a condom.”
“No, you don’t. Please, Mason. I’m on the pill. Just please fuck me,” she whimpered.
He stilled, his body vibrating with desire. His voice low, he asked, “You sure?”
“Yes, just please do me.”
He shoved his jeans and boxers down, freeing his dick. He gripped his cock and ran the head through her swollen folds, groaning at the sensation. At the contact, feeling her unhindered by a thin rubber membrane, he gritted his teeth at the wave of pleasure bombarding him. He guided his length into her welcoming heat and his eyes all but rolled into the back of his head. Emily, bareback, was the most exquisite sensation, the way her hot cunt clutched and squeezed him.
Fuck. He nearly blew his load right then and there.
Gripping her hips, he flexed his hips and shuttled his length in and out. Christ, it had never been this good before Emily. Had never been this good with anyone else. Need grabbed him by the throat. He pumped his dick in hard brutal strokes. Emotions swamped him. He wanted this, wanted her, always.
Dreams he’d always considered out of his reach, he saw actualized with perfect clarity with the woman writhing and canting her hips beneath him. Pleasure unlike anything he’d ever known took hold. He lengthened his strokes, making each one count. Her cries of ecstasy drove him to withering
heights of passion.
With his touch, he didn’t just fuck her, he tried to imprint himself on her. Show her with his body that she was precious to him, that she was the only woman for him. He knew in the recesses of his soul that there would never be another for him. That she and only she held the keys to his heart and, he feared, his soul.
The vulnerability of that truth, his heart fully engaged by Emily, for her, rocketed through him. Emily had opened him up in ways he hadn’t thought possible, and she called to him in a way no other woman ever had. Enthralled by her, Mason held her tight, increasing the tempo of his hammered thrusts. Her mewls of passion drove him wild and tested the boundaries of his control.
He wanted her not just for a night, but for always. He wanted her warming his bed from here to eternity.
Overcome with the rising tide of his feelings for her, Mason gave her all of him as his control snapped. He fucked her like a man possessed. Groaned as her sweet cunt spasmed around his pistoning cock. Roared as he spilled himself inside, her pussy quaking around his dick, drawing out his climax.
His torso lay against her back, her hands trapped between them as he fought to regain his senses. He kissed the back of her neck as he straightened and got a throaty moan from her.
He undid her cuffs and massaged her arms before sitting on one of the chairs and pulling her onto his lap.
He caressed her cheek with his knuckles. Emily looked up at him, her eyes clouded with emotions. “Well, that’s one way to stop an argument,” she murmured.
“I meant what I said, Em, it’s my job to take care of you. Even when you’re too stubborn to take care of yourself,” he said.
She softened against him. “Mason,” she sighed, “I know you mean well. But maybe we need to talk about some boundaries. How would you like it if I came into your office and started ordering you about?”
He would hate it. He understood her point. Not that he was in the wrong here. She’d been working herself into the ground all week long—for him, for the lodge. “I’m still going to put my foot down if I think you’re pushing too hard. You’ve been working around the clock this past week. And while I know the event tomorrow is a huge deal, you were dead on your feet in the kitchen. I won’t have you making yourself sick. So, for tonight, just let me take care of you. I’m going to feed you and then tuck you into bed.”