Master of Freedom: A Mountain Masters Novella Page 9

  A girl could get lost in those eyes. In his face that said strength and honesty.

  “Sweetling, I watched you and Garrett. You wanted a spanking but didn’t trust him enough for it to work. Can you trust me?”

  The nod happened before she could get her lips around the word no.

  “This time, you have a safeword. It’s red.” Even as she processed the words, Atticus lifted her, and a second later, she was belly-down over his muscular thighs. A caress of cool air hit her buttocks as he flipped up her tiny leather skirt, and then…right where she was already sore…a hand like concrete smacked her bottom.

  “Ow!” She shoved up, kicked, rocked. Her right hand tried to shield her ass.

  He bent her arm, pinned her right wrist to the hollow of her back, and held her there as he continued. Smack, smack, smack.

  The burning grew, familiar this time, taking her over until each bite of pain thrust her closer to losing it. Tears filled her eyes and spilled over as she choked back her cries. The pain of controlling them was worse than the burning on her skin.

  He stopped to rub her bottom. His other hand rested on her lightly as she struggled to maintain control. Inside her head, she could hear herself saying the safeword, but her jaw gripped the word too tightly to escape.

  “Sweetheart,” he said gently. “Let go. Trust me with those tears.”

  But to cry would mean…opening up. She could feel the dark, impenetrable barriers that kept her safe. That imprisoned her emotions.

  To her dismay, he started again. Stinging, painful slaps hit her bottom, her upper thighs. It hurt… The pain increased, filling her head, crushing any resistance before it.

  Inside her chest, the ball of sobs grew, cracking the barriers, breaking through until she couldn’t hold back. Until she was crying and crying, loud and jagged.

  “There we go, baby.” He gripped her waist, lifted her, turned her, and set her on his lap. As he pulled her close, his fingers threaded into her hair to bring her cheek against his wide chest.

  She cried.

  The sobs spilled out like a river in flood, uprooting her emotions. Anger and frustration and bitterness and sorrow were scoured clean.

  A lifetime later, she realized she’d stopped, and only hitching breaths were escaping. Her face lay against a shirt soaked with her tears.

  Warmth radiated from Atticus. His hold on her was like his ropes, snug and secure and unbreakable. With growling, soothing noises, he stroked her shoulders.

  She’d cried all over the man.

  Surly she should feel embarrassed, but only found…quiet. She was emptied, mind and soul, as if a brisk wind off the high glaciers had blown everything away, leaving only crisp, clean air behind. She pulled in a bigger breath and felt his hand pause.

  “Back with me?” he rumbled.

  Each movement took an age, but eventually, she lifted her head.

  One corner of his mouth tipped up as his gaze moved over her face. Oh lord, her makeup must be running down her face. He shifted her so he could grab a tissue from a box on the hay bale.

  “Hay bales are sprouting tissue boxes?” Her voice came out husky.

  “Simon brought one over.” He ignored her hand and wiped her cheeks and under her eyes.

  “Thank you.” None of Gin’s lovers had…cared…for her. Not like this. She’d never felt so cherished in her life. “Sorry for…” For bawling all over you like a baby. For doing it for such a long, long time. For—

  “Sweetheart, I made you cry.” His hand lay along her cheek; his thumb stroked her chin, her lips. And then his lips grazed hers before he said in an even voice, “If you hadn’t, I’d have kept spanking you.”

  His level look said he spoke only the truth. He really had wanted her to cry—and so had Simon. “B-but, why?”

  He tilted his head. “How do you feel now? Stressed? Upset? Conflicted?”

  Cleaned out. “Oh.”

  His lips quirked, and he ruffled her hair. “Time to get fluid and food into you.”

  As he set her on her feet, her legs wobbled. He steadied her with an arm around her waist…and she almost started crying again.

  When they moved into the open area, she spotted several women standing nearby, carefully not watching, yet sending flirtatious looks at Atticus.

  Gin bit her lip. Considering the way he looked—and how darned dominant he was—she’d bet he was extremely popular. “Um. I can…can manage by myself. You don’t need to concern yourself.”

  “I don’t, huh?” He stopped midstride. “What’s going on in that head of yours, babe?

  “I know you probably have others to see,” she said reasonably. “Simon didn’t give you any choice, but I’m fine now on my own.”

  Hearing Gin’s words, a twenty-something brunette slid smoothly into their path. Her skintight mesh revealed lush breasts and a shaved pussy. “Atticus, I’m free whenever you are.”

  Gin stiffened. As she’d feared. Now she knew where she stood. She started to pull away.

  Fucking-A. Atticus tightened his grip around the little submissive he intended to keep and stared down at the one he’d enjoyed last winter. Only enjoyed wasn’t the right word, considering how full of demands and I-wants she’d been. Tanya had taken and given nothing back.

  His brows drew together.

  A snorting laugh came from the left where Logan and Jake were blatantly eavesdropping.

  Atticus shot them an irritated look. Jesus, he hated when the bastards were right. But they were. He’d let his standards lapse. True, he enjoyed giving, but a too-permissive Dom wasn’t good for anyone in the lifestyle. And this kind of behavior from a submissive was plain disgusting.

  His attention returned to Tanya, who smiled as if she’d been cute.

  “Did I ask for you?” His tone was icy, and he felt Gin flinch.

  “Um.” Tanya took a careful step back. “No.”

  “Did you interrupt a conversation I was having?”

  “No. I mean yes. Sir. I-I’m sorry, Sir.”

  “Interrupting anyone is rude. A submissive butting into a Dom’s conversation is inexcusable. Who the fuck trained you?”

  Someone cleared his throat. Xavier had joined Jake and Logan.

  Seeing him, Tanya went corpse-white and dropped to her knees.

  “Tanya is a member of Dark Haven,” Xavier said. “If you care to reprimand her, I can watch over the other one.” When he nodded to Gin, the little social worker edged so close to Atticus that he could feel her every curve.

  Amusement glinted in Xavier’s black eyes, and Atticus smothered a smile.

  Xavier finished, “Or I can assign Tanya to someone who’d enjoy reinforcing proper protocol.”

  Atticus kissed the top of Gin’s head, inhaling her delicate fragrance. “This one is mine. Do what you will with the other.”

  “I rather thought that’s what you’d say.” The Dark Haven Dom fisted Tanya’s hair, pulled her to her feet—not roughly, but ruthlessly—and walked away.

  All right then. Atticus held Gin a minute, thinking over the past few minutes. To have a beautiful woman unsure of her appeal was refreshing and yet unacceptable. “Virginia.”

  He waited until she lifted her head.

  “Just so you know, Simon knew I planned to hook up with you. He simply lent a hand.”

  She blinked. And then he saw what he’d hoped for. Delight.

  God, he liked seeing her happy.

  Rubbing his cheek against her soft one, he murmured, “Let’s get some food—and if you want to protect me from any other forward submissives, you have my permission.”

  When she gave a husky laugh, he rewarded her—and himself—with a slow, long, deep kiss.

  * * * *

  Gin hadn’t noticed—after all, crying took a lot of work—but the atmosphere of the barn had changed over the evening. A few scenes continued, but the earlier intense anticipation had disappeared. In the “social” area, sweaty, glowing submissives sat on blankets or rugs at their Do
ms’ feet. To Gin’s surprise, it felt…nice…to be one of them. Who ever thought Ms. Professional would enjoy sitting on the ground between a man’s knees while he fed her tidbits from his plate. How strange.

  Hmm. Did submission fulfill some sort of deep-seated need in a woman? Or maybe… She shook her head. Not a good time for psychological evaluation, let alone reality testing.

  She’d accept—for now—that Atticus’s behavior wasn’t humiliating as much as it was claiming, as if he was proclaiming she had a place where she belonged.

  One where she felt safe. Cared for. Wasn’t this what everyone wanted?

  When he stopped to stroke her hair, she noticed his plate was empty. Rising gracefully—and wasn’t she proud of not tripping?—she took the dish from him. “Can I get you more food or some coffee or anything?”

  His smile was a satisfying reward. “You learn fast, sweetheart. Now, pretend you’re in the military and tag a ‘Sir’ on the end when you talk to a Dom. For politeness.”

  Heavenly stars, she’d seen what happened to submissives who weren’t polite. Xavier had restrained Tanya in the center of the barn. With her hair tied to a dangling iron hook, she’d stood and watched everyone else having fun. After a while, another Dom had released her, making her crawl behind him as he talked to other Doms.

  “Yes, Sir,” Gin said softly, earning herself another warm look.

  “Very nice. And I don’t need any more, but thank you.”

  She disposed of the paper plate and returned, expecting to sit back at his feet. Instead, he pulled her onto his lap, chuckling when she winced. Her bottom was going to be extremely sore tomorrow.

  “Atticus.” From two hay bales down, Logan tossed across a tube. “I keep this on hand for my redhead.”

  “Thanks.” Atticus lifted Gin to her feet. “Bend over, baby.”

  “What?” He couldn’t possibly be serious. They were surrounded by people and—

  His jaw tipped up infinitesimally.

  Oh no, he’d given her, like, an order. Her face heated to scalding, but she turned. Everyone had seen her butt before, after all, only not—not like this. Her knees shook as she bent.

  Without any hesitation, Atticus lifted her leather skirt and spread the lotion on her stinging buttocks.

  Ow!

  Callused hands didn’t go well with tender skin. Even the coolness of the gel didn’t help. It hurt. She tried to step away—and was stopped short by his grip on her skirt.

  “Nice try.” His hand didn’t pause, just continued the excruciating torture until he was satisfied. After tossing the tube to Logan, he tugged Gin down onto his lap.

  “It still hurts, you know,” she muttered.

  “Yep.” He took her face between his hands and held her as he claimed her lips, as his tongue tangled with hers, as he took everything she offered. When he lifted his head, she’d forgotten her sore bottom.

  “About the pain.” He brushed her cheek with his bearded jaw. “The lotion decreases bruising. Doesn’t help with pain since it isn’t the kind containing an analgesic.”

  “What’s the point in cutting the pain?” Logan asked. He tugged on Becca’s hair with a blade-like smile. “If I spank a little rebel, I want her ass to hurt afterward.”

  Becca wrinkled her nose but rubbed her cheek against his fingers. Obviously, she wasn’t feeling abused at all.

  I’m so glad she has a loving relationship. No one deserved it more than Becca.

  As various conversations whirled around the group, Gin let herself snuggle against Atticus. Nothing had felt so right in a long time. Enjoying the sensation, she idly looked around the barn. A flogging was happening in one corner, and she liked how the Dom had used the stall boards to restrain his submissive. Along the back wall was—

  Oh. My. Gin stiffened.

  In full sight of everyone, a Dom had his woman in a leather swing with her legs chained out of the way and was fucking her forcefully. Wow. And she’d thought the sex was kinky at Kallie’s wilderness place.

  “Problem, pet?” Atticus asked. He followed her gaze. “Ah.” His eyes were very blue as he regarded her thoughtfully. “Now, if I was doing the scene, I’d have you in the air, but use only rope for the suspension.” The dimple at the edge of his beard appeared. “You’d be naked, so there would be no barrier to my hands. So I could touch you where I pleased.”

  Heat rushed through her like someone had turned a heater on high. She glanced at the couple again. Suspension with ropes—no swing? Swaying up in the air with no control? In bondage?

  “No. No way. Never.” Never, never, never. If he messed up one knot, she’d end up on the floor.

  His eyes narrowed as he assessed her face, her shoulders, her hands. “It does take a high degree of trust to let someone bind you and suspend you. Maybe that’s why I enjoy doing it so much.”

  The mere thought brought on the shivers. She felt her head shaking a no even as she tried for a light tone. “I suppose the sex part is a side bennie?”

  He didn’t answer but a smile lightened his face.

  This Dom could get females anywhere he went. The knowledge made her feel even more unsure of herself. She shoved aside the dismal attitude. She was pretty and smart and nice, with a good figure. Educated. Held a job. She wouldn’t let herself feel unworthy because her “date” for the night was past scorching on the hotness scale.

  Relationships got corrupted when one party didn’t feel worthy. He—or she—would denigrate the other to feel better, to assure himself that no one else would want his significant other. She’d seen it often enough. One poor person—usually the wife—ended up feeling like dog meat because her beloved cut her down all the time.

  Or, in Gin’s case, she’d work her ass off to prove she was worthy.

  “Interesting thoughts going through your head.” Atticus drew her attention back with a touch on her cheek.

  “Uh, no. Not really.” Under his level gaze, she blurted out, “I was reassuring myself I wasn’t dog meat.”

  His stare of surprise made her laugh.

  She might as well say it. “You’re very hot, Detective Ware. I feel outclassed.”

  “Thank you.” His grin could stop traffic—especially if the drivers were female. “But, you’re off base. There isn’t an unattached person in this place who doesn’t envy me.” He stroked her hair for a second. “You’re beautiful, magnolia, but a Dom wants more than merely physical attractions. You have kindness, intelligence, and an unexpected sense of humor.” He bent and his lips against her ear whispered, “And your willing surrender has a beauty I can’t explain.”

  His words left her breathless. “But…”

  “Or did you want to know that any Dom here would enjoy bending you over a hay bale.”

  “Don’t be crude.” She considered thumping him and decided against it. The punishment might be bad. Being tied up in the center of the room—she’d probably die of humiliation.

  “What was that thought?”

  Snoopy Dom. But she didn’t mind sharing some of what she’d thought. “I’m rather uncomfortable with doing everything in public, you know,” she admitted. “I’m not like that.”

  “Ah, baby.” His smile turned gentle. “The out in the open play isn’t merely for those who like being watched. It’s also for new play-partners. Having monitors on duty”—he indicated Logan and Jake—“makes it safer when people are getting acquainted and want to do some scenes. It’s a bad idea to take a stranger to your bedroom and let him tie you up.”

  Jake had said the same thing. She nodded.

  “And then some people aren’t out to play in public, but they like to socialize. Of course, some do enjoy being on display.” He nuzzled between her breasts, making her heart skip a beat. “Now I happen to like putting a submissive up in ropes. Sharing her beauty. And once she’s in such a vulnerable position, it’s tempting to go ahead and do more.”

  “More?” she breathed.

  He traced a finger over her lower lip. “I�
��d tilt you down so you could use that mouth on me…and then tilt you the other way at an angle to fill you with my cock.”

  My stars. His bluntness was appalling…and she felt herself dampen. “I…”

  His palm settled over her breast under her bustier. “Your heart is pounding, pet.”

  Her world narrowed to the warmth of his hand and her own surging lust. “From fear. Sir.”

  “Some. Not all.” Rather than touch her more intimately, he moved his hand to her waist.

  Oh, she wanted more than anything to feel the slight abrasion of his callused fingers on her bare skin.

  “You should be a bit anxious, since I intend to get you up there eventually.”

  “Not a chance.” She grasped his wrist to move his hand. He was immovable and the evidence of his sheer strength had her breathing in deep, trying to get the fog of need out of her brain. “Listen, I shouldn’t be with you at all. You’re the brother of one of my cases. This isn’t…”

  “Baby, if you were dating an inmate, CO, or the warden, I could see the problem. Me, not so much.”

  No, really, she shouldn’t be with him, even if logic said there was no threat to Sawyer or the prison. Atticus was a law enforcement agent, after all. But her brain wasn’t working too well because her hormones had taken over. Every cell in her body wanted to merge with his.

  At her lack of answer, his brows drew together. “It honestly is a problem for you? I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

  “There are regulations, you see.” Her voice came out hoarse.

  “Got it.” He released her, holding her as he rose to his feet. “Then why don’t we go somewhere more private to finish talking. And if nothing happens, that’s all right too.” He kissed her lightly and raised his hand to the chorus of voices bidding them goodnight.

  Chapter Eight

  His idea of private was taking her to his place. When she’d told him her stuff was at Serenity Lodge, he laughed and said his house was “next door” to the Mastersons’ ranch and down from the Hunts’ Lodge.

  A few minutes later, he stopped her on his porch to point to the west, higher up the mountain. “You can see the Mastersons’ second floor lights through the trees. Their property butts up against mine.” He unlocked and opened the door. “That’s how we got to be friends.”