Master of Solitude (Mountain Masters & Dark Haven Book 8) Page 12

  He’d probably graduated around twenty-two, and she’d guess he was in his low- to mid-thirties. “You’ve been a Dom well over a decade?”

  “Yep.” He took off his heavy flannel shirt and dropped it onto a chair. The light in the room was brighter this time, giving her a fine view of his muscular chest. A dusting of curly chest hair over his pectorals tapered into a narrow line down his abdomen to his jeans. The scar below his left ribs had lightened to pale pink. Older scars decorated his torso: small marks formed a scatter pattern, a long thin scar sliced up his right side. The evidence showed he’d had a rough life—but he’d survived.

  The silvery chain around his neck held military dog tags.

  “You weren’t wearing dog tags before, were you?” she asked.

  “Nah. I don’t usually.” He gave her a rueful smile as he pulled the chain off and tossed it on his shirt. “But if I’m missing the Teams, I sometimes wear them for a day.”

  Despite his light tone, she could hear the thread of grief. He had the kind of heart that cared deeply. “Memories can be comforting. When I miss Gramma, I’ll bake her favorite recipes—even though they’re so high fat and sugar that one bite invites a heart attack.”

  Sawyer’s smile turned real. “Let me know when you’re baking. I’ll throw myself in front of you and take the hit.”

  She snorted. “You’re a brave man, Ware.”

  “Yep, that’s me.” When he unbuttoned his jeans button, anticipation flooded through her like the waters of a rushing creek.

  But then he sat back down on the bed.

  She frowned. “Your jeans?”

  “Later.” His smile was slow, the blue in his eyes darkening. “I want you bare for me.” Gradually, he drew up the hem of her nightgown to reveal her legs. Her pussy. Her breasts. He stopped, leaving the material bunched at the base of her throat.

  Exposing all of her body.

  She could feel every slight breeze across her overly heated skin. Her nipples were achingly tight, and she was damp between her legs. She realized she was pulling on the restraints around her wrists.

  Sawyer simply watched with a faint smile.

  Oh, yeah. Sawyer’s cock was straining forward so hard, his jeans zipper would probably leave an imprint.

  “You’re as beautiful as I remembered.” Slowly, he stroked his fingertips down her restrained left arm, across her collarbone, and down. Down to where the golden tan on her shoulders and arms faded to a luscious creamy white over her breasts.

  Those perky breasts. Her pectoral muscles, built up from construction work, made her breasts sit high on her chest. The nipples were small and as tight as raspberries. He stroked down her side, feeling the ribs under the female padding, and flattened his hand over her slightly softer abdomen. “Breathe, pet.”

  Her eyes seemed even greener as she watched him, and a small crease between her brows proclaimed her worry. Flushed cheeks, parted lips, jutting nipples. She was nicely aroused.

  “Sawyer.” She swallowed. “What are you doing?”

  As in…why wasn’t he getting down to business? He had to remember she hadn’t been with a Dom before.

  “I will do whatever I want, Mallory.” He cupped one breast, felt her jolt, and reminded her, “Because there isn’t anything you can do to stop me.”

  She instinctively yanked at her wrist restraints, and even in the dim light, he could see her pupils dilate.

  Was there anything more fun than seasoning a stew of arousal with a sprinkle of anxiety? Maybe he wasn’t a master of the kitchen, but with little subbies, he knew his way around. He moved toward the foot of the bed. “Spread your legs for me, pet.”

  Even when a woman was excited and wanting more, something instinctual must keep her from wanting to part her legs.

  Mallory’s legs separated slowly, and he knelt between them, running his hands over her shapely thighs. Leaning forward, he rubbed his stubbled chin over her peaked nipples.

  She gasped, and he heard the scrape of the belt on the headboard as she pulled on the restraints.

  Hmm. Did the tugging mean she liked abrasion or hated it? He had the time and opportunity right now to find out. He slid his tongue around one nipple and the other.

  Another gasp. Another quiet scrape as she tried to lower her arms.

  That sounded positive. Testing further, Sawyer licked and sucked, teasing slowly, occasionally scraping with his day’s growth of stubble. Fuck, he liked her breasts; he could play like this forever.

  Although his throbbing cock was getting painful.

  Her breathing sped up, and her hips were giving tiny twitches of excitement. He’d call her response a green light. What about pain? Carefully, he sucked lightly on one nipple and then used his teeth.

  A light bite got a gasp and wiggle. Green.

  But when he continued, biting enough to cause more pain, her entire body went rigid, and she made a soft sound of protest.

  There was his answer. He stopped and laved the tormented little nub in apology. Now he knew she wasn’t a masochist. She didn’t mind a tiny edge of pain; however, he’d have to keep it light. He could work with this—would enjoy it, in fact. Hurting a woman, no matter how much the submissive wanted pain, brought uncomfortable memories of the abuse his mother had endured.

  Slowly, he teased Mallory’s other breast, feeling it swell as he licked, sucked, and used his teeth very, very lightly. Just enough to have her arching for more. Moving down her torso, he nibbled her belly, nipped and nuzzled each crease between hip and thigh.

  A slow inhalation brought him her light musky scent.

  Her breathing was fast and shallow. Perfect. Under his cheek, her inner thigh was toasty warm. When he looked up, her eyes were closed, and her face was nicely flushed.

  Forming his tongue into a small point, he flicked in a circle around her clit, tapping and rubbing everywhere except on top.

  Her low moan was its own reward.

  For a moment, he used his teeth on her inner labia, pulling and running his tongue over the pinned hot flesh.

  She tried to raise her hips.

  Balancing on his left elbow, he slid his right middle finger inside her entrance. She moaned again as her cunt clamped down on him. As he slid his finger in farther, his cock jerked as if to remind him it was designed for that little chore.

  No, he wanted her in a fever of anticipation first. In fact, he wanted to watch her come. Unable to resist, he bent and swirled his tongue around the little pearl standing out so nicely and then sat back on his knees. After increasing to two fingers in her cunt, he parted her labia, pulling everything back to expose her clitoris.

  Pink and swollen and glistening.

  After slicking his fingers in her wetness, he rubbed one side of her clit and the other, studying her responses. Just…enjoying himself.

  The hood above the clit was extremely responsive. Rubbing the sides made the nub engorge even more. Slow vaginal penetration tightened everything. Oh yeah.

  Her breathing became shallower. Her legs quivered. Her core tightened around his fingers.

  Not yet, baby. He slowed and lightened his touch.

  Argh, he was going to kill her. She was so close to coming that every penetration of his fingers spiraled everything higher and higher. But he was moving so slow. His fingers would press inside and gradually withdraw. With his other hand, he drew one fingertip in leisurely circles around her clit, and the rigid nub ached with need.

  She rolled her head back and forth, straining her hips upward.

  He made an amused sound.

  With an effort, she opened her eyes to see him comfortably kneeling between her legs and…playing. He alternated between watching her pussy and studying her face. As he met her gaze, his dark blue eyes were alight with pleasure. Rather than hurrying to get her off so he could take his turn, this…Dom…was deliberately teasing her.

  She tried to reach down and do something, but she couldn’t move, and the realization he could continue, could do w
hatever he wanted, sent an urgent ripple through her.

  When his finger touched right on top of her clit, the feeling was so exquisite her eyes closed.

  He chuckled.

  A second later, she felt him move and his tongue, his incredibly hot, wet tongue slid in circles around her clit, rubbing expertly.

  Oh, mother of cats.

  When his impaling fingers began to thrust faster, her core clenched around him, and she coiled, spring-tight, teetering at the edge.

  “That’s it, baby,” he murmured. As he held her firmly open, his lips closed around her clit, and his tongue ruthlessly rubbed right on the top.

  Her center squeezed his fingers as the pressure grew and grew to a glorious peak—then the landslide broke free, sending heart-stopping pleasure roaring through her, increasing with each rippling spasm until the unstoppable waves of pure sensation and the roar of her pulse drowned out all else.

  His tongue moved over her, bringing her down gently, drawing the climax out. Just as she began to relax, he suddenly sucked on her clit, hard and fierce, and with a helpless moan, she went over again.

  Laughing, he moved off the bed.

  With her heart still hammering like a nail gun, she managed to turn her head and watch him finish stripping and don a condom.

  Then he was between her legs again. She felt his forearm beside her head, his legs between hers, his cock at her entrance. Closing her eyes, she waited for the wonderful feel of him.

  “Look at me, Mallory,” he said in a smoky-smooth voice.

  Her eyelids lifted, and she tilted her head to look at him.

  “Your hands are still tied to the headboard, pet.” His lips curved up slightly. “Seems like all you can do is take me. Feel me as I fill you with my cock.” His clear blue eyes met hers, pierced her as his shaft entered her, slowly, ruthlessly stretching her as he slid deeper and deeper. His gaze kept her trapped, enforcing the knowledge of her helplessness.

  When he was completely in, he held there, and all she could do was stare up at him as her insides throbbed around his heavy cock.

  “Yeah, there’s the look I wanted,” he said softly. With his hard hand under her chin, he tilted her head farther so he could take her lips.

  She’d never felt so defenseless in her life. Never felt so possessed.

  Even without him moving, with just the knowledge of his control over everything, her arousal ignited again until she shuddered with need.

  He knew. When he lifted his head, he was smiling slightly. Slowly, he began to push in, pulling out slowly, pressing in faster, and rotating his hips to ensure his cock rubbed against every part of her. With each stroke, his pelvis rubbed over her exquisitely sensitive clit, sending more heat lancing through her system.

  As Sawyer withdrew, the soft lips of Mallory’s pussy tried to hold onto his dick. Fuck, she felt good. He pressed back in, feeling the hot satin close around him, slick and tight as she grew closer to coming. This time, he’d be inside her when she came.

  Buckle down, Ware. Maintaining his control, he felt the pressure build up at the base of his spine until he could swear he would explode.

  Worth it, though.

  Mallory was giving tiny sexy moans with each stroke, and her hard little nipples were delightful where they rubbed over his chest. If her hands were free, she’d be digging ruts into his shoulders.

  Smiling, he levered himself up far enough to slide his fingers over her clit.

  With a high, clear tone, she climaxed, her cunt clamping down on him like a convulsing fist.

  Fuck, yeah. As he lost the reins and hammered into her, heat shot from his balls to his shaft and out in ferocious, mind-blowing spasms. The pleasure was so intense, he groaned as he slid a hand under her ass to pull her even closer.

  Even as her core squeezed him dry, she rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. Incredibly sexy and staggeringly sweet.

  Pulling in hard breaths, he lowered his head to kiss her silky hair and nuzzle her temple.

  Eventually, when he could move again, he eased out, feeling a regret at losing the warmth of her body. Of her.

  After disposing of the condom, he sat beside her on the bed and undid the wrist restraints.

  As he rubbed the dents out of her wrists, she laughed and showed him where her fingernails had dug into her palms. “It’s just as well you had my hands out of the way, or I might have scratched you.”

  His dick gave a throb of anticipation. “Huh. Next time, I’ll leave your hands free—and tie your legs apart.”

  The wide-eyed look she gave him was enchanting.

  Laughing, he reached out and snagged the phone. “Call your friend and tell her you survived.”

  “Survived? That would be a lie—I’m a wreck.” With a huffed laugh, she took the phone.

  Grinning, he headed out to the kitchen to get ice for her ankle.

  *

  The next morning, while Mallory showered, Sawyer tossed the dog carrier in his pickup and set Achilles down in the grass.

  Achilles did his duty, squatting the minute he’d been put down.

  “Good job, buddy.”

  Sawyer jammed his hands in his pockets and looked away from the house, trying not to think of Mallory naked and in the shower. He frowned. Everything about her was too damned tempting. Waking up with her in his arms had felt right. Comfortable.

  And dammit, he couldn’t afford to get comfortable with her. Thank fuck he’d made it clear before they started that this was a no-relationship deal.

  Too unsettled to go back in, Sawyer walked with Achilles around the house. In front of the porch, a rose bush provided a green backdrop to bright yellow chrysanthemums. A small lawn led to a sandy area where chairs surrounded a fire pit.

  Continuing, Sawyer followed Achilles down a small path to a clearing concealed by the tall shrubs. The grass there was clipped as short as a putting green without any holes. Not for golf, apparently. A garden pond curved around one side of the perfect circle. Near the water, purple sage grew at the base of a female statue. Breathing in, Sawyer could feel the tranquility.

  Much like the peace he felt in Mallory’s presence.

  Yeah, well, don’t think that way. Peace wasn’t in his future. Not anytime soon. He had to keep his focus, to be free to move at a moment’s notice. He damn well had to keep civilians out of the fire zone.

  Trouble was, considering what he’d just spent the entire night doing, he had no self-control when around Mallory. He needed to stay away from her. Far fucking away.

  With a scowl, Sawyer turned around. “Let’s see what’s in the back, pup.”

  The south side of the house faced away from the road and held a huge garden surrounded by two four-foot fences. Some sort of cover crop—winter rye, maybe—was sprouting in several of the raised beds. A few plants were frost-burned from the early freeze. Hoops covered one bed, and he could see lettuces and spinach through the clear plastic.

  Nostalgia hit with a swift ache. Mom had tended a garden very like this one.

  “C’mon, Achilles.”

  The sunroom was in the back and, as he’d thought, had a hell of a view of the gurgling creek. As he and Achilles reached the north slope facing the road, a car climbed the drive. Picking up the pup, Sawyer went to see who’d arrived.

  A petite woman with short black hair stepped out of the SUV and headed toward the house.

  Mallory opened the front door and maneuvered out onto the porch. She was doing better with the crutches. “Hey, Kallie.” She shook her head. “In the clinic, Sunny warned me she was going to call you and Becca.”

  “She did. Nice crutches.” Kallie frowned. “How busted up are you?”

  “Not busted.” Mallory leaned on a post as her friend trotted up the steps. “I tripped on my own two feet and twisted my ankle.”

  Kallie gave the little contractor a hug. “Sunny’d planned to swing by, but Doc called her in early. She was worried you’d be here alone and need something.”

  Mallory
pointed to Sawyer’s truck. “I had help. Sawyer’s around somewhere with his huge dog.”

  Taking the cue, Sawyer came around the porch to the steps. “Morning.”

  Seeing the pup in his arm, Kallie grinned. “Huge dog?”

  “Well, he has a huge name,” Mallory said. “Meet Achilles and his owner, Sawyer Ware.”

  When the brunette noticed Sawyer’s half-buttoned flannel shirt, her grin faded. “Good morning.”

  “Sawyer, this is Kallie Masterson Hunt. She and her cousins own the Wilderness Guides over there.” Mallory waved at the oversized house across the valley. “She’s married to Jake Hunt who runs Serenity Lodge with his brother.”

  He nodded. “Good to meet you.”

  Kallie Hunt’s black gaze held a fair amount of suspicion. Undoubtedly, his reputation had preceded him…and here he was, having obviously spent the night.

  Of course, she might simply be pissed off he’d sucked her cousin into participating in a street fight.

  After giving Kallie a quizzical look, Mallory turned to Sawyer. Her smile was warm. Sweet. “I made you some coffee. If you’re ready, I can—”

  “No. Thank you.” He kept his voice level. Reasonable. Firm. And detached. “Since you’ve got help here, I need to get back to work.”

  Dammit, he hated the way her smile disappeared. Nonetheless, he’d warned her last night of the rules of engagement. “Next time, drive to the mailbox. Don’t walk. I won’t always be around to pick you up.”

  “I understand.” Her words—and her expression—held an acceptance he didn’t deserve.

  It would’ve been easier on him if she’d yelled at him. Instead, his chest felt like he’d caught a .45 slug.

  As Sawyer drove away with Achilles on his lap, Mallory stared after him.

  Gone.

  She’d been discarded again, only this time was worse. And she couldn’t be angry. He’d been clear he didn’t want any relationship or involvement. She just hadn’t realized he’d return to being cold. His distance…hurt.