Master of the Abyss

Chapter Eight

As his Search and Rescue group hiked up the trail, Jake tuned out the low chatter about the young woman who had disappeared from a campground before the Fourth.

The conversation with Kallie two days ago still clung to him like a pit bull with a good grip. He couldn’t call the sprite a coward. She was competent in what she did, brave enough to defend friends from a roomful of drunks, smart enough to have a college degree. She knew herself enough to know she enjoyed submitting and was confident enough to do it. But the disapproval of her family had somehow pulled the ground from under her feet. He’d seen the pain in her face when she’d pushed him away, but she’d still done what her cousins wanted.

As the trail branched, two SAR members veered off to follow the smaller path. The others continued on, eyes constantly moving, watching for any signs of the missing person.

Kallie had the right to end their relationship-if that’s what they had-although he’d felt surprisingly disappointed, not just at the lost evening but in not seeing her at all. He frowned. Perhaps he should be grateful for this clean break. One she’d requested.

But seeing such a strong woman go belly-up bothered him. Did she really think her cousins wouldn’t love her if she-how did she put it?-rocked the boat? Considering Virgil’s concern over Kallie, Jake figured she could probably tip the entire boat over without causing a ruckus.

The little sub definitely had a problem with trust, didn’t she?

As he stepped over a downed log, he wondered if her phrasing of “this isn’t the night” implied she wanted to see him on other nights, when her family didn’t surround her. And the thought raised his spirits. Pitiful, Hunt.

When the trail branched again, Jake held up a hand to indicate he’d take it. As he veered onto the side path, his partner, Eric, fell in behind. The forest was silent except for the regular shouting of the SAR team: “Abigail!”

The uneasy feeling in the pit of Jake’s stomach grew. No one had seen this hiker for three days.

Abigail Summers had stormed out of a campground after a fight with her boyfriend. Leaving the car for her, the guy had hitchhiked to town and caught a bus home. Due to the holiday, no one had missed Abigail until a family reunion. Eventually they’d discovered her car still parked at the campground. Going by the disarray in the tent, she’d never returned from her hike.

The boyfriend had shown SAR the trail that Abigail had taken. While Jake and Eric and the other teams conducted a hasty search in the most likely areas, others would round up dogs and helicopters. Unfortunately the main trail branched off several times, vastly increasing the search area.

When Eric paused to catch his breath, Jake gave him a careful look. “Doing okay?”

“I’m good.” After a minute, the college student straightened, settled his daypack, and moved out. The dry pine needles didn’t leave much sign behind, and so far they’d found no evidence that Abigail had chosen this trail. Jake kept his eyes moving, looking up, looking back. No tracks leading off, no threads or cloth from the purple top or jeans she’d last been seen wearing. Each time the alarm on his watch sounded, he stopped to shout and listen. “Abigail! Abigail, are you here?”

No response other than the high call of an eagle and the faint wind in the pines. Hell. His gut cramped until the muscles hurt. Logan thought Jake should quit SAR, said it brought back too many memories. And it did, dammit. People had searched for Mimi for days before finding her broken at the bottom of a deep ravine. He’d seen her when they carried her body out of the forest.

But unlike this hiker, Mimi hadn’t gotten lost, and she hadn’t fallen. She’d set her pack neatly to one side. No marks on the steep trail’s edge indicated that she’d slipped. In fact, her body had fallen so far out that she would have had to deliberately run off the cliff.

Suicide. Because of him.

He shook his head. Let it go. Right now, someone needed his full attention. He hadn’t found a way to help Mimi, and the thought of her dying alone, that she might have suffered, still cut sharply. But maybe he could save someone else.

They left the forest, climbing to where the narrow trail had been carved out of the cliffside and required careful attention to the footing. Falls were a leading cause of death in the Yosemite area. Using binoculars, Jake checked over the side every few feet.

A long way down, a stream at the bottom turned the tiny gorge green with vegetation. He pressed the binoculars closer to his eyes. A long brown mark showed on the verdant slope-possibly exposed dirt from plants being ripped away. An ominous feeling bowed his shoulders.

“Eric. Look over the side. Can you spot anything below that brown patch?”

As the kid dropped to hands and knees, Jake moved another few feet, searching for any other sign. He spotted a splash of color between two trees.

“Hey, I see something. Purple, I think.” Eric pointed.

“Good eye.” Jake tied red and white flagging to a sturdy pine growing out of a crack in the rock, and noted the GPS point in the log. When Eric joined him, he pointed out visual references to the young man. “Do you remember how to radio it in?”

Eric nodded. The freckles stood out on his face as he swallowed. “Do you think…?”

“Don’t think, Eric. We follow procedure.” Jake paused, his gut aching as he added, “Yes, it’s probably her.”

“Oh.”

“I’m going to try to climb down. Radio and then stay up here on the trail and direct me in.”

The hike to the bottom of the cliff seemed interminable. He forced his way through the vegetation as Eric shouted directions from above: “More north. To your left.”

And there she lay.

His shoulders tightened when he reached the crumpled remains of the young woman. She’d probably fallen to her death on the same day she’d fought with her boyfriend. He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from touching, from trying to make it better. She needs help, dammit. But the blank, open eyes said rescue had arrived too late.

He still watched, wanting with everything in him for her to take a breath.

Too small. Tangled brown hair. Pale skin. So battered. He swallowed hard. Mimi had probably looked like this when the searchers found her. Sweat trickled down his back, the sun slicing through the thin air with unholy glee. A tree and shade waited only a few feet away, but he couldn’t move-as if standing over her would somehow make up to her that her life had been cut short. That someone should have protected her.

As he tried to do.

And hadn’t succeeded, had he? Mimi, his sweet, quiet submissive, who’d depended on him for everything and had cried when he’d uncollared her-she’d ended up just like this.

“God, I’m sorry, sweetheart,” and he wasn’t sure who he was talking to. Mimi or this poor young woman. Too young. They were too young to have died.

Legs braced, throat clamped shut, he stood vigil for them both.

Kallie took a long, slow breath. Like deep water, the air had a warm layer with the fragrance of dusty pine needles, and a cool, tangy layer from off the snowpack. The late afternoon sun scorched her shoulders as she led her group through a green mountain meadow. On the far side, a gurgling stream curved snakelike through the grass and then flowed across granite outcroppings in a series of miniwaterfalls. The fine spray moistened the air.

She turned to watch the Lowerys, a family from Serenity Lodge, so apparently the Lodge also booked normal people. The wife, Laura-a bouncy brunette in real estate sales-led the small pack, then her blond, gangly husband, Mark, a software engineer who specialized in gaming.

Their children followed. Ten-year-old Cody, who stopped to investigate something in the grass. A budding scientist.

Like a big-footed puppy, Tamara ran across the meadow to the stream and started to climb down to the lower falls.

Bringing up the rear with the packhorse came Ryan. At twelve, he was the image of his father and horse mad. Kallie sympathized. After she’d been dumped on Uncle Harvey, she’d practically lived in the stables for months.

As the horse and boy approached, Kallie took the lead. “Go play. Coco will still be here when you’re done.”

Ryan gave her a shy, sweet smile before darting away. With a forlorn look, Coco turned his head to watch. The Missouri Fox Trotter doted on children.

Kallie laughed and slapped his neck. “C’mon, old boy. Let’s get this stuff off you. He’ll be back soon enough.”

An hour later, Kallie had the tents set up near the edge of the forest: one for the parents, one for the children, and hers, located a little distance away. While the kids gathered firewood, arguing over who’d found the most, she set up the stone-lined cook area. Steak and biscuits for supper. Much nicer than the freeze-dried foods needed if there wasn’t a packhorse.

She rose and stretched, then checked her clients. Part of guide service was figuring out what each individual wanted-whether to be left alone for romantic moments, or to have thrills and challenges, or education. Right now, Laura and Mark sat on a sunny rock, their feet in the water. Holding hands. They’d been married almost twenty years and still held hands.

Kallie bit her lip at the pang of loss. After the Fourth, Wyatt and Morgan had watched her as intently as Mufasa guarded a gopher hole. They’d tried to entice her into poker games, fishing at the creek, even chick flicks-doing everything possible to keep her occupied. They needn’t have wasted their time, considering Jake hadn’t called. Her two cousins eased up when they decided Jake’s interest in her had died.

Apparently they were right. Why would he want someone who told him to go away? The man could have anyone he wanted, after all. She’d spent most of last night fighting back tears because of him, and dammit, she never cried. She kept wondering what else she might have done, how she might have managed to see him without upsetting her cousins.

If Jake had really wanted her for more than sex-if he’d wanted to date her-would she have told Wyatt and Morgan to stuff it? Maybe. And yet the thought of disappointing her cousins or having them pull away wrung her insides until her stomach went queasy.

She sighed. She wished to see Jake so badly, to hear his rough voice and snuggle against his side. She gave a short laugh, knowing she definitely wanted more than just sex from him. Even if he’d been in a wheelchair, he’d attract her with his honesty, with that idiotic bravery that had him jumping into a flooding river to save an old drunk, with his ability to talk with anyone. How he’d wholeheartedly played the game on the Fourth, then enjoyed teasing the children afterward.

Damn him for being someone she wanted in her life, and for not wanting her back.

So she didn’t really have any decision to make, did she? She brushed the dirt off her jeans and went to check on the children. While Ryan and Tamara raced twigs down the stream, Cody pored over a field guide, trying to identify the tiny wildflowers. Lots to keep a guide busy and not thinking about “might have beens.”

Jake stopped at the edge of the meadow. There she is. His chest constricted as he watched Kallie play with the Lowery children. Had he ever known anyone so beautiful? So full of energy?

He rubbed his face, trying to forget the body of the young woman they’d found yesterday, the way her open eyes had stared, seeing nothing.

But Kallie was alive-in fact, she seemed more alive than anyone he’d ever met. He smiled as she teased the two boys, then picked up the little girl and turned her upside down. His muscles eased as he listened to the giggles turn into delighted shrieks when Kallie slung the child over her shoulder. Strong little sub and so vibrant she seemed to glow.

He needed to hold her.

After returning from the search yesterday, he’d felt eviscerated. A quiet evening talking with Logan and Becca hadn’t helped. The silence in his rooms had only increased the feeling that he’d turned to ice all the way to his bones.

Watching Kallie now was like stepping into the sunlight after sleeping in the snow. So much for his intent to stay away.

Jake shook his head. He should be at the lodge, doing his job, but he’d needed to see Kallie. To touch her and hear her laugh and watch her dark eyes turn soft when he kissed her. He’d had women, had loved before-bright, enjoyable loves-but he’d never had this…need…before, as if a part of him had gone missing.

Logan had grumbled about taking Jake’s place escorting a vanload of guests to Yosemite. But Rebecca had told Jake, “I like Kallie. And you need… Well, I think joining Kallie is a wonderful idea.” She’d kissed his cheek-soft woman, soft heart; Logan was a lucky man-and said, “You’ve beat yourself up long enough. Move on, Jake.”

She hadn’t meant the search-and-rescue trip; she’d meant Mimi. But he couldn’t deal with that now.

He smiled when Kallie shooed the children back to their games and picked up a towel from the grass. Probably heading toward the lower falls. Jake debated following her. No, he’d best be polite and let the Lowerys know of his arrival. He crossed the meadow and detoured to pet the old horse cropping grass in the shade.

“Hey, it’s Jake!” Tamara gave a shriek like a miniature cougar and ran to him, splashing through the stream. Little brown-haired imp. Kallie had undoubtedly looked like that as a child and had probably had the same energy level too. He swung the munchkin up with a laugh, tucked her under his arm football-style, and carried her to her parents.

“I was in the area and thought I’d drop in,” he said. “Help Kallie with setting up and cooking.”

From the smiles they exchanged, he hadn’t fooled them with that excuse. Either he was more obvious than he’d thought, or they noticed he had only a daypack and no tent. Mark grinned and pointed downstream. “She was planning to wash up.”

Wash up… Bending over, splashing her face with water. He could almost see how she’d have her ass up in the air. He remembered how it felt to hold her hips and drive into her heat. Bury himself deep and take his pleasure.

Hell, now he’d grown hard as a rock. He shook his head. “Be good parents and keep your children here.”

As Mark laughed, Laura snickered and said, “We can do that. Have a nice time, dear.”

“Oh, I will.”

Enjoying the peace, Kallie stripped and dunked in the stream. Such cold water. Goose bumps formed on her skin, and her nipples peaked. With a happy sigh, she settled onto the seductively warm, flat granite to sunbathe. Overhead the sky was a clear, blue bowl. Bees buzzed happily, and a dragonfly flitted at the edge of the water. Legs stretched out in front of her, she leaned on her hands as water trickled from her wet hair down her back.

A rustling sound came from the trees a few feet away. She lunged for her clothing…and Jake stepped out of the forest.

Jake. Her heart did a somersault. A painful one. He’s here. Here, here, here.

So tall and lean. His shoulders military straight. His prowling gait said, Attack me and I’ll kill you. Until then, I’m going to enjoy myself. In faded jeans, hiking boots, and a white T-shirt that set off his darkly tanned skin and curved over every muscle, he looked like sex on the hoof.

Her body woke as if someone had plugged her into an electric socket.

He spotted her, and his smile blazed in his face. “Well, what have we here?” As his easy gait changed to a stalk, the fire in his gaze made her insides melt.

She took a step back, not exactly sure why, but hell, she wasn’t dressed…at all.

“I planned to sit and discuss your concerns first. But then I saw you.” As he stopped in front of her, the sun lines at the corners of his eyes deepened with his smile. “Do you realize you’re naked?”

“Um. Yeah?”

He took her hand and set it on the thick bulge in his jeans. “Talking can wait.”

He only wants me for sex. That’s all. Well, maybe that was enough, she thought, although her heart squeezed in disagreement.

His brows drew together as his eyes narrowed. “Then again, perhaps we should talk.”

Like that would settle anything? He had his rules and wouldn’t change them. So maybe she’d make a few of her own. Yeah. Like they’d have a clandestine affair, never be seen in public together. Very James Bondish. Her laugh almost sounded natural. “We’ll talk later.”

The feeling of his thick cock under her hand set up an irresistible longing to have him inside her. She started to undo his belt and hesitated, a concern pushing through the heat searing the air around her. “Children, there’s-”

“Laura will keep them close.” He tilted her chin up, and the scrape of his fingers seemed to sandpaper every nerve on her body.

“Okay, then-”

His scowl stopped her cold. “We’re going to discuss the battle on Independence Day. My British army shouldn’t have lost. We had more soldiers. Better soldiers.” He frowned and shook his head. “No, the only way we could have lost was if someone poisoned my troops.”

“What?” Weren’t we just thinking about sex a minute ago?

“You’re a Yank. High in their councils. You must know what was done to my men.” His fingers tightened. “And I will discover everything you know, little spy.”

“But-”Spy? Apprehension mingled with excitement as she remembered his threat from the Fourth: “You’d best be careful, soldier. If I capture you, I’ll be forced to conduct an interrogation. There are many, many ways to make an enemy talk, and I know them all.”

“You will speak only to answer my questions. Do you understand?”

Her mouth went dry. “Yes, Sir.”

“Very pretty.” He curved his hand around her throat, not cutting off her air, but the sensation, the knowledge that he could, and the way her body surrendered sent a bone-shaking tremor through her. As he studied her, his fingertips rested lightly over her hammering pulse. “I might enjoy this questioning.” He paused, and his voice hardened. “You might not. What is your name?”

“Kalinda Masterson, Sir.” Her voice came out as only a whisper, and his cheek creased.

“Such a fast little pulse. By the time I’m through, it will be so loud the deer will flee.” He turned his hand over, and his knuckles teased her bunched nipples.

A flush warmed her skin all the way to her scalp. “You’re still dressed.”

“Did you have permission to speak?” His soft voice didn’t conceal the edge, and she could feel herself getting wetter.

She shook her head. “No, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”

He walked behind her and wrapped something-smooth like vinyl-around her left wrist, then the right, securing her hands behind her. “There. That should keep you in place while I ask my questions. Answer carefully, spy.” He ran his hand lightly over her hip and whispered in her ear, “I’d hate to mar this pretty skin.”

When he squeezed her bottom, a shiver ran through her. He wouldn’t. But her certainty kept fading with everything he did.

Returning to stand in front of her, he stared down at her, his gaze unfamiliar, colder than ice. “Where were you born?”

“Washington DC.”

“Ah. Right at the heart of our country. I might have known.” He threaded his hand in her hair and yanked her head back. His face next to hers, he growled, “What secrets did you learn there?”

“I…” She knew it was a game, but it didn’t seem to alleviate the helpless feeling growing in her. “I didn’t.”

“Wrong answer, little spy. You’ll regret that.” He pulled something from his pocket. Setting an arm behind her waist, he bowed her back and took her nipple into his mouth. And he sucked, oh, God, he sucked so powerfully she felt a whirlpool pulling her down to the bottom of a river. Apparently satisfied with how far her nipple jutted out, he fastened something on the swollen peak.

Tiny teeth bit into her areola and didn’t release. “Ow!”

“Did I give you permission to speak?”

The nipple clamp pinched, sent throbbing aches through her, and somehow made her pussy pulse in unison. Her other breast swelled as if to complain as well.

And Jake bent and sucked on that breast. Her knees wobbled, and a humiliating whimper escaped. When he put on the second clamp, her legs buckled. She tried to grab him to keep from falling but couldn’t move her arms. He locked his arm around her, holding her up as easily as if she weighed less than a doll.

She stared down at the clothespin-appearing silver clamps.

When she looked up, his eyes were intent on her face, studying her expression. “Do they hurt?”

“Yes.” She stopped, confused. The pain felt…hot. Made everything more sensitive. “No.”

The crease of a half smile appeared in his cheek. “Very good.” As her nipples burned with a mixture of arousal and pain, he paced in a circle around her, hands behind his back. “We’ve searched the men delivering supplies to our camps, but never suspected women might be involved. Your countrymen are barbarians”-he gave a disgusted grunt-“and now you will be the one to suffer for it, not them. Kalinda Masterson, tell me where you have hidden the poison.”

Her brain had trouble moving past the “suffer.” “But…there is no poison.”

His face turned hard. “You’re lying.”

A jolt of anxiety shot through her…even as her arousal deepened.

He strode over to a fir and broke off a branch. As he walked back, he stripped it, leaving only a whippy stick just over a foot long.

She eyed it warily, her heart rate increasing.

His cold gaze ran up and down her body. “I need to search you.”

“B-but I’m naked.”

Standing at her side, he tapped the stick against her mound. “Open for me.”

No way. She wasn’t going to-

He swatted her butt with the stick, hard enough for a nasty sting.

“Hey!”

“That was just a warning, Yankee spy.” He repeated again, “Open for me.”

She glared at him, and he hit her other butt cheek. Harder. The burn sizzled across her skin straight to her clit. It hurt, dammit, and how the hell could that make her want his touch so badly that she shook with it?

“Open your legs, Miss Masterson.”

Gritting her teeth against the embarrassment, she moved her legs apart. The air felt warm against her thighs, yet oddly cool on her overheated pussy.

“Very good.” To her relief-mostly relief-he slipped the cane under his belt. He clamped a hand around her upper arm in a cruel grip, and then reached down between her spread thighs to touch her intimately. “You are very wet. Appears you enjoy a bit of pain, little spy.”

His merciless grip kept her from moving away from the slow, slick slide of his fingers over her labia. Oh God. Each brush against her clit sent need boiling into her veins until the air itself simmered with heat.

Suddenly he pushed his finger up into her, and the shocking, searing pleasure made her gasp. Her insides clenched around the intrusion.

“So, Miss Masterson, have you hidden anything in your womanly recesses?” His finger stroked deeper, in and out, his thumb rubbed against her clit in a way that eroded her control, and the feeling of him touching her, of doing what he wanted, was almost too much. Her head spun.

When he stepped away, leaving her empty inside, she moaned.

“I find nothing. Perhaps it’s deeper than I can reach. Or elsewhere.” He pulled the cane from under his belt and idly slapped the weapon against his palm in a way that totally fixed her attention despite the need throbbing inside her. “But as long as we’re at this, you will now provide me with the answer to something else.”

After a minute, the ominous silence registered, and she managed to pull her gaze from the stick. Oh my… His eyes were so blue and as clear as the sky above. The ground under her slid sideways and-

“Kalinda?”

Hellfire. She blinked and forced herself to turn toward the forest, trying to get her brain to work, but her mind had melted away with the rest of her body.

He set a finger under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze again. “When I arrived and said we didn’t need to talk…what were you thinking that hurt you?”

She stiffened as she remembered how she’d thought: He only wants me for sex. That’s all. She bit her lip. Uh-huh, share that thought with the nice dom. Not. “Nothing important.”

The cane tapped the outside of her left breast, just enough to sting, to startle her, to jiggle the clamp. She hissed as pain sizzled through her breast and streaked straight for her pussy. She tried to raise her arms. Trapped. The pain and the reminder of her restraints-how the hell could that turn her on like this? Her bones felt like boiled noodles.

“Kalinda, I would like an answer.”

She tried to think of something adequate…and took too long.

The cane slapped the outside of her right breast, then the tender underside, and-oh, God!-right over the excruciatingly sensitive nipple already pinned by the clamp. She yelped. And yet fire seared straight to her clit.

He looked down at her, face expressionless. The utter authority in the lift of his chin destroyed her determination.

“I decided we should have a nice clandestine affair.” Her words spilled out as if a dam had crumpled, but she still managed to divert the flood into a side branch. “Never be seen together in public.”

“All right. I believe you had those thoughts.” His jaw hardened. “But I asked what made you hurt.” He closed his hand around her arm and then tapped the cane against her pussy, just below her clit, hitting her swollen labia.

She rose right up onto tiptoes at the burning, stinging pain. “Aaaah!” She tried to step away, but his grip seemed more inflexible than handcuffs.

Whap, whap, whap.

When he stopped, she panted against the pain-only was it pain? Because if he did it again-if the sadistic bastard touched an inch higher on her clit-she’d come, right then and there.

He chuckled. “You might like this too much for it to be a punishment.” When he rubbed the cane against her cheek, the scent of her arousal clung to the wood. Shaken to the core at her own response, she stared up at him.

His gaze was gentle and yet…uncompromising. He wouldn’t accept anything less than the truth. “Tell me, Kalinda.”

Her dry throat didn’t allow her to swallow. “I didn’t like knowing you wanted me only for sex.”

His eyes darkened, even there in the bright sunlight. “I see.” The cane landed in the grass a few feet away. He ran his hands up and down her arms and kissed her so sweetly she sighed.

“Oh, sugar,” he murmured and rubbed his cheek against her. “It’s not just sex.”

The surge of pleasure rolled through her. He felt something too. For her. Her breath stilled as she waited for more, but he simply kissed her again.

And slowly the kiss deepened as he pulled her closer, molding her against him. Her clamped, swollen breasts rubbed on his shirt, the friction sizzling. His tongue teased hers, and then he tilted his head, taking her mouth in a way that mimicked a different kind of possession. When he pressed his erection against her, her mind abandoned any thought except that of give me sex now.

More, more, more. She pushed back in return, grinding her hips. His iron-hard shaft jerked in response, and he muffled a groan.

Ha, she affected him just as much. She rubbed her breasts against his chest, hoping to get him to move, but the incredible feeling just drove her higher instead. In sheer frustration, she gritted out, “Maybe I should interrogate you and drive you crazy.”

He stepped back and shook his head in disapproval, although a corner of his mouth had tilted up. “You should know better than to tease a dom, sprite.”

When he didn’t pick up the cane, she felt relieved and a little disappointed. Her whole pussy throbbed with need-much worse than before he’d tortured her with the damned stick.

Instead he released her wrists, then tossed the crumpled mess of black tape restraints onto a rock. He pointed to the flat granite spot where she’d been sitting. “Lie on your back. Arms over your head. Legs spread wide.”

Her nipples throbbed with pain as she lay back on the warm rock and lifted her arms. Her back arched slightly in the position, and the clamps pinched more. Her eyes closed as excitement blurred the burning.

Silence.

She blinked and looked up. He’d crossed his arms over his chest, and the hard bulge of his biceps captured her eyes. She wanted to run her hands-

He cleared his throat.

Had she done something wrong? Oh. “Legs spread wide,” he’d said. Biting her lower lip, she opened her legs a little. Despite her need, exposing her private areas to his gaze in the bright sunlight was…difficult.

He waggled a finger back and forth for more.

Oh, fuck, damn, hell. She opened wider. Her damp folds parted-again-and she could feel how much more swollen they’d become. Air brushed over her entrance, sending a shiver through her. Open and waiting for him.

“Very nice.”

The bastard still wore all his clothes, she realized. And surely Laura would think they’d been gone too long. What if Mark came to look for them?

His little sub was a lovely sight in the bright afternoon sun. Her cheeks had flushed. Her arms over her head arched her back slightly. Her small breasts swelled upward to where the clamps turned her pretty nipples to a dark red color. Her hips were made for a man’s hands to grasp, and she’d parted her round thighs widely enough to display the glistening black curls at the juncture of her legs. The fragrance of her arousal mingled with the dusty pine scent of the mountains. Her lovely dark eyes clearly showed her anticipation…and nerves.

Too many nerves, too many worries. She hadn’t quite reached that core level where he wanted to take her.

Maybe he’d give her only a single thing to fret about rather than a multitude. He caught her gaze. “I intend to enjoy myself now, Kallie,” he said. “It will please me if you stay perfectly still and make no noise.”

Her eyes widened for a second, and he saw the tiny tremor that made her breasts shiver. The flush on her cheeks deepened.

He started with her delicate toes and ankles. Strong, smooth calves. Her dark golden tan lightened to cream above her knees. Moving up, he reached her petal-soft inner thighs. When he squeezed and pushed her thighs even farther apart, her hands clenched. Hands gripping high on her thighs, he ran one thumb up and down the crease of her hip and heard her breath catch. Nice.

When he’d seen her, naked on the rocks, his mind had jumped immediately to the desire for simple, thought-erasing sex. But somehow with Kallie, he always wanted more. It truly wasn’t just sex-he wanted to touch her emotions, to plumb her responses, and to hear her laugh.

However, the boundaries of their relationship could wait. Right now he intended to enjoy driving her into mindless need. As he lay down on the rock between her legs, the heat of the sun-warmed granite penetrated his clothes. Less than a foot away, the stream flowed and splashed down to the next rocky level. Could a man ask for more than a sunny afternoon in the mountains and a woman spread open for his pleasure?

Resting on his forearms, he dropped his head. He’d never taken her in daylight, so he enjoyed a long, slow look and could almost hear her anticipation ratcheting up. The sun shone on the rosy pink clit barely peeking out from the hood. Her silky black curls gleamed with moisture, and the skin he could see was nicely reddened from the blows of his cane. When he finished, her folds would be swollen and fat and her clit engorged, shoving all the way out.

When he finally tickled his tongue over her labia, her whole body jerked…but then she forced herself back into position.

He chuckled. “There’s a good girl.” His cock had thickened enough that he had to shift position. Its time would come. Right now he wanted to indulge himself with torturing a little sub. So he began by running his tongue upward to tease the juncture of the hood and clit on one side and the other. Her thighs touching his shoulders started to quiver. Featherlight strokes over the very top of her nub had her hips rising for more. Suppressing a laugh, he stopped and said sternly, “I told you not to move, sub.”

When she exhaled, it sounded suspiciously like a whine. He waited a full minute to make his point before resuming.

When her clit felt almost as hard as his erection-although nothing in the world could be as hard as his cock right now-he turned his head and nipped one tender inner thigh.

She squealed like a trapped mouse, and her leg jerked…oh, at least an inch.

“Did you move and make noise?”

“No, Sir.” Her voice sounded as breathless as if she’d run up a mountain. He had to press his lips together.

“Maybe, Sir.”

“I see,” he said gravely. “That’s very poor self-control, Kalinda.”

“I… I’m sorry.”

He could almost hear the begging she forced herself not to utter. “Well, let’s try this then…” He pushed her knees upward and out. “Give me your hands.” He set her hands on the insides of her knees so that she could hold her legs there. One of his favorite positions: with the knees up, her pussy would tilt, making her pretty cunt even more available to his fingers. Maybe he’d fuck her in this position. “Very nice, sugar. Stay just like that.” He waited a beat. “Kalinda, did you hear me?”

“Oh. Yes, Sir. Please…”

“Don’t make any noise. And. Do. Not. Move.” Avoiding her clit completely, he slid a finger into her. Very slick and hot. Her pussy clenched around him as he teased the opening, moving in and out in an erratic fashion. Never enough to drive her over. Tremors had spread to her entire legs, and she clutched her knees with a white-knuckled grip. He knew she thought of nothing else now-not the heat of the sun, not the possibility of discovery, not her job-just the feel of his hands on her and her need to stay still.

Perfect.

Oh, God, she was going to die. Sweat covered her whole body, making her hands slip as she strained to keep her legs up. Please, please, please. Why didn’t he use his mouth again?

“Seems like I remember you saying something about interrogating me. Am I correct?”

She stared at him. Talk? Now? “Yes,” she bit out.

He lay so close she could feel his breath right on her clit, but only his finger teased her, circling the entrance before sliding in and out. Never enough to send her off, just enough that everything down there kept getting tighter, more swollen.

“Did I mention it wasn’t a good idea to tease a dom?”

Would you stop talking? “Uh-huh.” God, she ached and burned.

“Want to apologize?”

The evil bastard. Her answer came out a humiliating whine. “I’m sooorrrrry.”

He didn’t move.

“So, so sorry. Really sorry. Master. Sir. Emperor of the world. God of the universe.” She managed to clamp her mouth shut before adding, Fucking sadistic bastard.

Maybe he heard it anyway-he bit her again, and the sharp pain stabbed through her, making her jerk. Her legs slipped, and she grabbed them frantically. He chuckled, and she felt his tongue on the crease between her hip and thigh, so hot and soft. Move over, just a little, please. Her pussy throbbed. Burned.

He pushed one finger into her, then another, the added width wonderful, and she had to fight to keep her hips still. Don’t move. As if in revenge, her trembling increased.

“That’s very nice control, sprite,” he said, the approval in his voice like a stroking hand brushing over her. “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

Reward? She held her breath, and suddenly the fingers moving in and out of her changed, rubbing inside her, pushing against something…something that made everything inside her contract. And then he moved slightly, and closed his mouth around her clit, holding it firmly between his lips. His tongue stroked it ruthlessly-soft and wet-over and over. Inside, the pressure expanded like a balloon. With each touch of his tongue, the pleasure built exquisitely, higher and higher.

She clamped her mouth shut over her whimpers. He slowed, each drag of his tongue bringing her closer and… everything inside her seemed to gather together, petrifying her into unmoving stone until…

He sucked on her clit. Hard.

The pressure exploded outward as if the balloon had burst, flooding her with devastating pleasure in spasm after spasm. A wildfire totally out of control.

Oh God, hellfire, damn. Panting, she realized Jake’s hands covered hers, helping her hold her legs up as his tongue flickered over her, sending ripples of aftershocks through her. The screams that she’d muffled swirled inside her head.

“You did well, sweetheart,” he said, moving her hands away and lowering her legs. When he rose to kneel between her legs, his face appeared stern, but laughter danced in his eyes. “Your control is improving.”

She considered cursing him-but then, she’d never come so hard in her life. Would every time with him be like this? So overwhelming?

With other men, she sometimes felt as if she were watching herself react, doing what was expected, always keeping a rein on her emotions. But Jake never gave her a chance to step back or be apart-his commands left no room for anything but feeling. And part of the reason she could let go was trusting that he could and would handle her.

Holding her eyes with his, he undid his belt, unfastened his jeans, and lowered the zipper. Commando. His cock sprang out as if escaping a prison, incredibly long and thick, the veins engorged and bulging. With the same slow, deliberate movements, he sheathed himself in a condom. She’d never met anyone who had such control.

He grasped her wrists and pulled her to a sitting position. “From the way you were squirming-although you did a fine job of keeping under control-I think we’d best get you off your back.”

Now that he mentioned it, she could feel scrapes burning her butt and upper back.

He tossed her clothing on the rock for padding and said, “On your hands and knees now.” With determined hands, he helped her turn, and her insides started to quake with anticipation. He was so big, yet all she wanted was him inside her, filling her. “Rest on your forearms, sugar.” He pushed her shoulders down. Putting his hand between her legs, his palm against her mound, he lifted her butt higher, sending a thrill through her as he positioned her body, not giving her any choice in the matter.

He set his cock against her opening, sliding it up and down and getting it wet, she realized-only one second before he drove inside her in a ruthless thrust that wrung a cry from her. Her insides convulsed around the thick erection in wavering jolts of pleasure.

“Sugar, you feel incredible,” he growled, “and I am going to take you hard.” He lowered his voice. “Because I want to. Because I can.”

Somehow her bones trickled right out of her body.

He gave a deep laugh. With an implacable grip on her hips, he rode her, hard as he’d promised, hammering into her until the driving rhythm somehow caught her like a hooked fish, yanking her arousal up from the depths. And then she was lost as each plunging thrust pushed her closer and closer. As her need increased, she tried to push her hips back to meet his thrusts.

He slapped her butt, and as her insides clenched like a fist at the shocking sting, he said, “If you want more, Kallie, I will give you more-at my discretion.”

How could he talk now? She shoved back toward his cock again. A second later, she realized his meaning as he pushed her legs so far apart that she couldn’t do anything.

And then he curved his hands over the tops of her thighs and yanked her back against his groin, sheathing his cock to the hilt each time. He controlled her completely, yet gave her exactly what she wanted, and the knowledge thrilled through her and exploded her into a climax as quickly as if he’d set off a bomb inside her. This time her spasms slammed into his thick cock instead of his fingers, and God, the sensation felt incredible. Her head spun. Despite her orgasm, each implacable thrust sent her even higher until her body shook with the brutal pleasure.

His hands tightened, lifting her knees right off the rock. He growled and pressed inside so deeply she felt his cock hit her womb and then the jerking sensations as he climaxed.

God, she loved the feeling of him coming inside her, knowing she’d given him that.

He eased his grip and lowered her until her knees again rested on the rock. As he massaged her butt, he rumbled a satisfied, “I enjoyed that, sugar.” A second’s pause. “But seems like I heard you making noise. What shall we do about that?”

Hellfire, I’m doomed.