Secrets Dispatched (10 page)

He whistled as he took a basket from the pantry and filled it with crackers, cheese, pâté and a flask of coffee, as well as the water. It had been a long while since he’d felt so comfortable, and he realized with a jolt, so positive about his future. Whatever it was that was the skeleton in Shane and Jess’ cupboard, he and Shane would work it out.

Ross stood in front of the open fridge door and considered the contents, before he added a couple of satsumas and a handful of grapes to his midnight feast. That would do. He ignored the wine. It was late, they were tired and he’d need to be up early the following morning to make sure the drive was clear of snow so cars could get up and down it. More than ever now he wanted Jess to get back and Shane to be satisfied that she could lay her demons or whatever to rest.

He looked out of the window as he made his way back to the bedroom and shivered. It looked like a scene from some snow laden movie where the hero trudged for days to rescue the heroine from the dragon in the castle. Except, Ross thought, amused at his fanciful thoughts, he was no dragon, and he’d rescued his fair lady from
outside
the castle, not in.

“Sustenance for the body,” he said as he toed the door open. “We’ve done the soul bit for a while.”
Not too long though, I hope, until we do some more.

The bed was empty, the duvet thrown back over the crumpled sheet. Shane had turned down the lights to their lowest and created shadows and shapes in the room, opened the shutters and was kneeling on the window seat, with her nose almost pressed to the glass. Her naked body shone in the mixture of lamp and moonlight, and called to him in the most primeval way possible—as his mate.

“It’s just like I imagined Christmas should look over here. So pretty.” She shuffled along the cushions to leave space for Ross. “Look, all sparkly like diamonds and crystals dancing on the trees.” She pointed outside and snorted. “Oh what do I sound like?”

Ross put the basket on the floor next to the fire and added another log to the flames. The fireplace and the open fire was something he relished, both in this room, and he often thought somewhat ashamed, also in the bathroom. It might sound decadent, but on some days, it was needed. Otherwise his bits might freeze to the porcelain.

He grabbed a condom and some wet wipes from their home on the shelf just inside the bathroom and he made his way to her. Ross peered over her shoulder and nuzzled her cheek, as he followed her pointing finger. “That bush there, looks like a giant cock, and the one over in the other direction is a witch,” Shane said.

“She’s covered in white then,” Ross pointed out. “Only got black feet.” The base of the tree was sheltered from the snow and a root protruded darkly out of the sea of white.

“Well she’s a white witch then, in wellies.”

“Fair enough. And the dragon is in the shadows,” Ross said as he trailed his fingers down her spine and teased the hollow at the base before he circled the entrance to her arse. “Lurking before he makes his move to ravish the fair lady of the castle. And, oh, guess what?”

Shane twisted her head to look at him. “What?”

He pressed one digit inside her hole just enough to tease her, not enough to hurt. No lube was a no-no. To his pleasure, Shane pressed back a little. “Nice, but ouch.”

“The hero has just reached you to save you from any danger.” He hoped, there was still the worry of the white van and its contents, but that was neither here or now.

“Ohh, he has? How?” She opened her eyes very wide and fluttered her eyelashes. “Ohh, kind Sir, rescue me from danger? Save me, lordy, save me. How will you help me?”

She’d affected a deep southern accent, and even with its Aussie undertones, Ross reckoned it wasn’t half bad.

“Like this.” He moved to stand behind her and wedge his legs between hers. As she was kneeling on the seat, his weight moved her forward and she grasped the window ledge, for support, he guessed. However it was perfect for what he had in mind. Food could wait another few minutes. He had something much more interesting in mind than pâté and crackers. “Hold on there, perfect. No, don’t turn round, just lift up a bit.” He patted her bum, and Shane rose up so she no longer sat on her haunches. “Like I said, perfect. Now lean forward. The hero should have his reward, don’t you think?” Without moving the digit that teased her nether hole, Ross slipped his other hand between her legs and two fingers into her pussy. Immediately the muscles which surrounded them tightened, and her wetness coated them. His cock responded to the invitation with alacrity, and brushed across his hand, her arse and slowly stroked the inside of her thighs.

“R…Ross? Sir?” Shane sounded doubtful. Immediately Ross understood. When his cock brushed her arse, it had indicated things that Shane wasn’t sure of.

“Have you ever had a cock in your arse, kitten?” Try as he might—and if he was honest, he wasn’t trying very hard—he couldn’t stop calling her kitten. “Felt that sweet sting as it fills you there, and made you fly?”

“Sort of… It hurt not in a good way. It’s a red.” But he discerned a hint of hesitation in her tone.

“Red or amber. Tell the truth now.”
Damned if I don’t wish I had lube and could show her, just a bit how beautiful it’ll be.

The silence seemed to go on forever. A log slipped in the grate and they both jumped. Ross let his fingers slide slowly out of her arse and her pussy.

“Kitten? I need an answer or I’ll tan your sweet arse.”

Chapter Ten

Shane wriggled her fingers over the smooth wood she gripped and tried to dispel the sweatiness of her palms. This was her chance to see whether she truly was ready to be a worthy sub to her Sir. She knew deep down, now, even if Jess was a blubbering mass of humanity, she, Shane, deserved a chance of happiness, and she also knew it could be with Ross.

Speak or stay silent. Go for the spanking or admit to an amber reaction? Or be clever and have both? Shut up and have it put up.
If it hadn’t been so important she would have giggled at that thought.

“Kitten?”

Make my mind up time.
She looked over her shoulders to stare at Ross. His expression was unreadable, but his features were taut and strained and even in the dim light, he looked pale. Now she had to work out how to show she wanted everything, one step at a time, and add a little light relief to the atmosphere.

Shane firmed her lips and mimed the zip closing movement again. Then she winked, returned to looking out of the window and wriggled her arse in, she hoped, a suggestive manner. If he didn’t get her hint, she’d be snookered. After all, wasn’t she doing as he decreed?

It was just as well they were miles from anywhere in the middle of a snowstorm. Her reflection stared back at her, outlined in the glass as clearly as if it was a mirror. Ross was equally noticeable, as he stood and stared at her thoughtfully and took a step back.

Shit, have I blown it?
She opened her mouth to speak just as he nodded.

“So be it, kitten. Don’t move an inch.” He shifted out of the reflections in the glass.

Shut my eyes or keep them open? Bow my head or keep staring out of the window. Mind you, he said don’t move. Oh fuck it, Shane, stop second guessing and just enjoy, or whatever.

Her inner lecture over, Shane continued to look at the snowy scene, which appeared over the reflection of her boobs. A movement showed behind her, and Ross once more loomed over her.

“My hands are cold and your arse is soon going to be rosy and glowing, kitten. This time, I’m going to warm you up myself, no crops or paddles. Although”—he held a plastic kitchen spatula up so she’d see it—“if you’re a good girl, I might give you a few swats with this, just to introduce you to each other. Ready?”

Shane gulped and didn’t care that if he looked at her inner thighs, they would be oh so wet now. Sod it. She was more than ready, even if apprehension was uppermost in her mind. It had been so long and the last time not…
Stop it now.

“Yes, Sir.”

In the glass she watched him nod and move sideways on to her.

“You know you can safe word out at any time, kitten?”

She loved how he ensured she was happy at every stage of their journey together. Because that’s what it was, a journey, with, she hoped, a happy ending.

“I do, Sir. I’m green. Scared but green. This is the first time since, well since…” Her voice trailed off. “But,” she continued in a stronger tone, “this is with you, so I’m happy and sure you’ll do everything for us both that’s needed.” If he thought her words strange, he didn’t say so.

“Then embrace the sting, kitten—five on each side to start.”

Five? That’s ten smacks. I thought it’d be one or t….
She didn’t finish her thought as Ross swung his arm and slapped her right butt cheek. Sting was a misnomer. Stings were sharp and soon over. This pain spread through her. Sharp, yes, but soon over? Not at all. The awareness of harsh prickles and deep thuddy darts of throbbing sensation went on and on. Every few spanks he stopped and he ran his cold hands over her heated arse and stroked her skin. The contrast was almost unbearable. Almost.

“Ah, kitten, color?”

It would have been oh so easy to say red, or amber, and to chicken out. For several seconds she hovered between the two.

Honesty, remember. Honesty.

“Green, Sir.”

“Good girl. Ready for the next ten?”

Shane bit her lip to stop a sob slipping out. She could take it, see how it all went before she decided if it was over and done with never to be tried again, or not. “Yes, Sir.”

“Then count.”

His hand met her skin, harder, more definitely and with a bite she’d not felt before. It took every ounce of determination not to shout, swear and scream at him to stop. With a depth of stubborn determination she hadn’t known she had, Shane spoke out clearly.

“One, Sir.” Then a second later. “Two, Sir.” By the time she got to ten, she didn’t hear herself or flinch as she waited for the next connection of his hand. No two swats landed on exactly the same place and the stings radiated all over her arse and into her very core. She was beginning to float.

“Such a beautiful sight, my kitten with a red rosy arse. Can my kitten take two more? This time with my swatter?”

He held the spatula in front of her face and stroked her cheek with it. It tickled, but Shane was under no illusion that it wouldn’t feel like that if he swatted her arse with it.

“Are you ready to learn to embrace that as well?”

Why not?

“Yes, Sir.” She was beginning to sound like a recording on repeat.

Ross didn’t give her a chance to change her mind. Out of the corner of her eye she saw his hand fall downwards and the spatula disappear. She breathed out as slowly and evenly as she could as he placed the business end of the implement on her arse and held her steady so she didn’t fall over with the force of his stroke.

It was oh so different. More thuddy, more definite and much more of an impact on her body
and
mind.

“Two more, kitten, yes?”

He could have said ten or one hundred and she would have given the same answer. The floaty feeling was divine. All for her, a sense of well-being and completion, nothing like the pain and horror she’d associated with it at one time.

“Yes, oh, yes.”

He chuckled. “I think my kitten has discovered something about herself.”

She nodded, too involved in her floaty happy sensations to do more. The last two swats were hard, but the pain
was
pleasure. He was correct.

The loss of contact as he stood back hit her hard. She moaned.

“Shhh, kitten, let me cuddle you now.”

“Fuck me.”

“Pardon? Do you know what you’re saying?” Ross lifted her off the seat and swung her around to sit on it and face him. She winced at the pressure on her throbbing arse.

“Of course,” Shane said, stung he’d think otherwise. “I want us to make love. Screw, have it off…” She yawned, giggled and covered her mouth. “I feel drunk.”

“Subspace, kitten. So a drink and a cuddle first.”

“‘Kay. ‘S’long as we do.”

Bless her, she’s out of it.
Ross looked down at Shane as she gave him a slow smile and closed her eyes.

“You’re mine, Sir Ross, all mine.” She turned her head into his shoulder and exhaled deeply.

At least he thought she’d said mine. The words interspersed with yawns and sighs could have easily been something different. Fine? Dine? Wine? It had to, just
had
to be, ‘mine’.

“That I am, kitten.” Ross put Shane down on the bed as if she might break. She needed the sleep, and he knew enough about her to accept she’d bounce up and well…insist he kept his word?

God I hope so
. Carefully, he pulled the duvet over her, and grinned as she rolled into the middle of the bed and hugged his pillow to her. As soon as he’d banked the fire, checked anything he might need to pleasure her if the opportunity arose and turned off the lights. Ross slid under the cover next to her. He pried her fingers open and began to drag the pillow away from her.

“No, he’s mine.” Her voice was determined and she tugged the pillow back toward her chest.

Ross gave up and used his arm instead.

Sometime during the night, he woke up to find himself with a dead arm and a furnace on top of him. A squidgy furnace that blew tiny puffs of hot air over his chest. He opened one eye and in the moonlight that streamed through the window saw Shane sprawled all over him and his pillow on top of her. No wonder he was sweating. He heaved the pillow off. Shane muttered something unintelligible and shifted on his chest. The next moment, she nuzzled his nipple and began to nip and tease the hard nub.

Ross held his breath and bit back a groan. Even if she was still asleep, it was such an erotic gesture, his cock was hard and pre-cum slid over it. The soft hand that cupped his balls took his breath away, and as Shane trailed her fingers up his cock to the bulbous head and began to stroke his pre-cum all over it, Ross began to recite the alphabet backwards in an effort not to come there and then.