Over the Line (22 page)

I want to feel it on my body.

It was a start. He typed out at least a dozen replies before settling on one.

Terms negotiable.

Two days later, he figured he’d chosen the wrong response.

He told himself that was all right. He’d left her an opening. Maybe he was wrong. Perhaps all she did want was a fuck partner. If so, he was the wrong man.

Michael was paying bills in his office when Pedro called the office phone.

“You have a visitor driving up the road.”

“Sydney?” He sat there, staring unseeingly at the computer screen.

“I never changed the gate code.”

“Good enough.” He grabbed his old hat, placed it on his head then headed outside to meet her.

She braked to a stop in her usual parking spot. He waited at the end of the path, folding his arms, trying to portray a calmness that was in conflict with how he felt.

Finally she looked in his direction and offered a tentative smile.

A moment later, she killed the engine and exited the vehicle.

Then he got a look at her.
Holy fuck him to tears.

If all she wanted was sex, he might give it to her, forgetting all his resolutions. She wore the sandals he’d sent her and short—scandalously short—shorts that showed off her tanned, shapely legs. A form-fitting T-shirt hugged her upper body.

She’d left her hair free, and she’d skipped the makeup, hiding behind no artifice.

For a second, he considered striding over to her, ripping down her shorts and bending her across the hood of the vehicle. He’d beat her in punishment for the torment she’d put him through before fucking her harder and deeper than he ever had.

She came around the vehicle, then stopped and leant back against the fender.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“To negotiate your terms.” She swallowed.

Whatever nerves he had, it was obvious she battled her own set. “Did you bring a white flag to signal your surrender?”

“No chance, Sir.”

Michael exhaled. She’d set the tone with her respect, and with her sass. And more than anything, she was here, and that meant something.

“I went to the Den last weekend.”

He gritted his teeth. Since they weren’t together, she had a right to do anything she wanted. But, God damn it, he didn’t have to like it.

“I didn’t find anyone I wanted to play with. Or”—she shrugged—“maybe Gregorio frightened them into staying away.”

“So you’re here hoping I’ll give in and just agree to fuck you?”

“No.” Still keeping her distance, she added, “The truth is, I talked with a few Doms. But I didn’t have a connection with anyone. Almost any of them would have tied me to a St Andrew’s cross, but I didn’t want them to. It felt…hollow. The way I feel about you is what makes the sex so good. I realised that after I left. I’ve spent years making sure I didn’t get involved with any man, and you scare the hell out of me, Master Michael.”

“Because?” he prompted.

She shaded her eyes with her hand. “Because I care about you. The land. Even your stupid goat.”

“Sounds serious.”

“That’s why I’m here.” She dropped her hand again. “Name your terms.”

He hated the physical and emotional gulf standing between them. But he was reluctant to cross to her and take her in his arms until they’d talked more. They’d spent far too little time doing that. “I will give you everything you want sexually. But I cannot compromise on the submissive angle. We can discuss what that means.”

“I don’t want to give up my business.”

“I never asked you to.”

She scowled. “What?”

“I’d never want you to give up the things you love. A good relationship should add to your life, just like submission does.”

She licked her upper lip. “Do you mean that? You don’t want to put a collar on me?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I think I’m confused.”

“Of course I want to collar you, when you’re ready. We will make the rules together. I’m a Dominant, not a dictator. And Sydney, you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t a submissive.” He waited while she absorbed the impact of his words. “If you were honest, you’d admit that. It’s more than spanking to you. Turning over your well-being to me is part of what thrills you. That’s why it didn’t work for you at the Den the other day. You want to give more than just your body. And you want to know the gift you offer is received and protected.”

She scowled at him. “I can wear your collar and still guide a back country ski trip?” she asked suspiciously.

“Of course.”

“Visit my girlfriends every year, somewhere on planet Earth, without you getting jealous or being mad?”

“Sydney, I want you to live the life you want. You can go as often as you want for as long as you need. Just come back here when you’re done. Can you work from here?”

He saw her chest rise and fall in short bursts.

“My condo in Evergreen is closer to Denver and the airport, Sir.”

“And most of your work is…”

“Up here in the mountains.” She sighed. “Yes, I can work from here.”

“Those are my terms. You move in here. We discuss the rules and negotiate them when necessary. You wear my collar, eventually. You show me the proper respect.”

“I can’t behave perfectly, Sir. I’m flawed.”

“Then you’ll be punished.”

Her eyes widened. “Promise?”

“Do you agree to my terms?”

“Anything you say, Sir.”

Her words and tone were submissive and respectful. She’d banished the sarcasm she sometimes used when making that statement. He was smart enough to realise he’d only won because he’d made sure she was comfortable and felt cared for.

He closed the physical and metaphoric distance between them. He pulled her away from the car, taking her in his arms and kissing her deeply. She responded, holding nothing back. Generally he had to coax a response from her, but this more than anything showed him, proved to him that she was no longer resistant to a relationship. “Shall I welcome you home, Sydney?”

“Home,” she repeated. “Sounds nice.” She smiled. “Did you have something specific in mind?”

“Join me in the barn.”

“Sir?”

He took her wrist and guided her alongside him. In the distance he saw Pedro walking towards the bunkhouse, obviously to give them privacy.

“This wasn’t what I expected, Sir,” she said when he had closed the door behind them.

The space was more of a workshop than a barn. He didn’t keep animals here—rather it was a large, mostly unfurnished area that he’d outfitted with heating and air conditioning to protect it from the elements.

A pulley hung down from one of the rafters. “I set this up a while ago for you. I was afraid we’d never get to use it.”

“Ah. I’m not sure what you have in mind, Sir.”

“Access to your entire body as I flog you.”

“Oh, Sir.”

He released his hold on her. “Please strip and kneel, little subbie.”

She didn’t hesitate.

He avoided glancing at her while he lowered the hook. If he looked at her, he’d never give her the thrashing she craved. “Come here,” he said, finally facing her.

She rose with elegance and grace.

How the hell had he thought he could live without her? “Here’s my promise to you, Sydney. I will try my best to be the Dom you need so you can be the sub you want to be.”

She shivered.

“I love you,” he said.

“You’re doing this for me, Sir?”

“For us,” he corrected. “I know how newness and adventure appeal to you. Coming up with something creative will keep me sharp.”

“I love you, Master Michael.”

He secured her wrists together then fastened them to the hook before adjusting the height to keep her on her toes. He hadn’t touched her and already he smelt her arousal. “Perfect little pet.”

“Yours, Sir.”

“Yeah.” He pinched one of her nipples brutally hard. “Mine.”

She sighed.

“Another time, I’ll blindfold you and gag you while we do this. But for now, I want to see your agony. I want to hear your sobs and screams. Hold nothing back.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

He kissed the top of her head. “What’s your safe word?”

“Everest, Sir.”

“And slow word?”

“Freaking
tur-tle.”
She smiled. “Sir.”

“That will earn you a delayed orgasm.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, sounding happy. “If that pleases you.”

He was besotted enough to lasso the moon for her. He rolled up his shirtsleeves and removed his hat.

“Now, we’re getting somewhere, Sir.”

He hung it on a hook then picked up a flogger he’d left hanging there.

As she watched, he took a few practice swings. “Open your legs,” he said, returning to her.

When she did, he hit her pussy a few times, making her cry out and respond with a flood of moisture. “You’ve missed this,” he said.

“I haven’t come once since I left you, Sir.”

The knowledge that no one had touched what was his made his cock harden. “Should I let you orgasm?”

“Only if it pleases you, Sir.”

Because she had said it and meant it twice, it did please him. He sucked on one of her nipples and fingered her until she jerked against the hook.

“Sir? May I have permission to come?”

“You may.”

“Oh God, oh God, thank you.”

As he continued to masturbate her, he realised she’d expressed her gratitude before she came. “Oh, you please me,” he said.

After she had sobbed out a climax, he began to flog her with easy, gentle strokes. She never protested. Instead, she let her body go limp in total trust.

She’d changed, and he appreciated it.

By measures, he increased the hardness of his hits.

“Thank you, Sir.”

He moved around her in a complete circle, marking every part of her body.

After a few initial cries of pain, she closed her eyes. Within moments, her head lolled to the side. “Subspace?” he asked.

She didn’t respond.

“Sydney?” He continued to light up her body, hitting her breasts, her cunt, her inner thighs. “Can you hear me?”

Again she was silent, except for the soft, easy sounds of her breathing.

He gave the backs of her thighs some welts, knowing they’d show if she wore the shorts.

When her body was covered in a sheen of sweat, he dropped the flogger and lowered the hook, capturing her in his arms and carrying her over to a chair. He uncapped a nearby bottle of water and pressed it to her lips.

Dutifully, she swallowed.

He held her, stroked her, snuggled her.

Long minutes later, she roused herself. “I think I was gone.”

“Chupacabra?”

She touched his cheek. “ Okay, Sir. You were right.”

“You forgot the
as always
part.”

“I’m not that far gone, Sir.”

He grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips.

“Fuck me?”

“Yeah. You up for it?”

She nodded.

He stood and placed her in the chair where he’d been sitting. She watched as he stripped and pulled out his wallet to remove a condom he’d stashed for emergencies. Being inside her—now—qualified as one.

“Have I told you how much I like your tattoo?”

“We should get you a matching one.”

“Really, Sir? I’d like that.”

The idea of her wearing his brand filled him with possessive energy. “I want you on my lap, facing me,” he told her. “Stay where you are.” He managed it so that he was sitting and she was in the position he wanted.

“I get to be on top, Sir?”

“But not in charge.”

She raised herself up on her knees while he guided his sheathed cock to her entrance. Slowly she sank onto him, exhaling in a slow rush while she did.

“Ride me, little subbie.”

She placed her arms around his neck. Her hair spilled erotically over him as she worked her pussy up and down his shaft, some of the strokes shallow, others longer. Within moments, he felt her impending climax. “Wait,” he told her.

She bit her lower lip, but she did as he said without protest.

He made her complete several dozen more strokes before he relented and said, “Come now.”

When she did, her internal convulsions were so powerful that they drove his orgasm.

She collapsed against him. Sated, he hung onto her.

“You’re a sexy man, Sir. Thank you.” She leant back, and he met her gaze.

“Did you learn your lesson from your punishment, little subbie?”

“That may take some time, Sir.”

“We’ve got plenty of that,” he said.

“We do, Sir.”

“Dinner and a glass of wine?”

“I don’t suppose you have any in a one-gallon jug?”

“Yeah, actually, I do.”

She blinked.

“Anything for you, Sydney.”

“Even cheap wine?”

He nodded. “Even cheap wine.”

She wriggled from his lap and dressed. As he suspected, two nasty welts were obvious below the hem of her shorts.

With a sassy strut, she walked in front of him towards the house.

Now it was their home.

Coming Soon from Total-E-Bound Publishing:

Mastered: In His Cuffs