Secrets Dispatched (9 page)

It was less than that when Ross plonked a bowl of steaming, fragrant soup in front of her and added a thick chunk of what looked like homemade bread. “Eat,” he said. “The soup I made, the bread is Kath’s. Since she had her babies, she’s going through an earth mother phase. There’s no guarantee if it’s as light as a feather or as heavy as a brick. It all depends on how many distractions there were when she made it.”

Shane held a bit to her nose and salivated. It smelled amazing, warm, yeasty and mouth-watering. She bit into the doughy center and sighed. “Oh, no distractions. Or whatever they were, tell her to have them again. This is amazing.” She spooned some soup into her mouth. “And so is this. Are you a chef in vanilla-land?”

Ross blushed and Shane stared at him. “You are?”

He shook his head. “Not now. I was for a while, before I got fed up working evenings instead of playing. Now I sell insurance.” His eyes twinkled, daring her to disagree.

“You do not.” She ate some more bread and soup. The cold, hungry, shivery feeling had disappeared. She still had a shivery feeling, but this one was warm, welcome and tingling in all the right places.

“True, I don’t. I’m an investment analyst.”

“Blimey, not much different then. Do you enjoy it?”

“Yup, and it fits around my lifestyle rather than my lifestyle fitting around it. I have an office a few miles from here, and I can also work from home.” He opened the shutter, just enough for them both to see the depth of snow on the window ledge. “Six inches and no stopping. Just as well I can work here.”

Shane put her spoon down and used the last piece of bread to mop the bowl. “That was beautiful, thank you. Er, now I think I’ll go to bed.”

“Let your food digest first.” Ross picked her up as if she was a featherweight, and carried her into the lounge. He sat down on the settee and settled her on his lap. “There now. Let’s snuggle for a while.” His hand was warm as he stroked her cheek and hair. Shane gave in to her desires and burrowed close to him. He represented safety, calm and comfort. She craved all of them.

* * * *

“Shane.”

Someone was shaking her as the room spun and dark spots danced in front of her eyes. She tried to bat his hands away. They were hard and menacing, and shook her back and forth to an unheard rhythm. Whoever it was caught her hands easily, and held them fast. She struggled, but it was futile. For all the good she did, she might just as well have been a fly in a spider’s web. Although she might have guile—sometimes—she didn’t possess brute strength. Whoever he was, he had both.

He loomed over her, but his face was in darkness. All she could see was a glitter. His eyes? Why was the rest of him hiding from her? Who? Shane struggled and kicked out only to be stopped by what seemed like iron bands over her legs. She opened her mouth to scream and found it shut fast by another mouth firm against her lips.

That wasn’t right. No way could she let him—let the faceless one—win. Monsters had to be slain, it said so in all the books. Monsters needed cutting down. Where was Jack the giant slayer when she wanted him? Or even her master.

No, no, not him, not Master. Master was a monster, no more monsters. Not now, not ever. Sir… Yes, Sir…

Shane renewed her struggles, gasping and sobbing at the same time. Her breath was erratic and her mouth hollow with a nasty metallic taste in it. Why her? Why now? Hadn’t she suffered enough? Why was she held captive, and no one came to her rescue? Where was Sir? Not the Master… He wasn’t right, but Sir? Surely Sir would aid her?

The slap to her face made her gasp and turn her head into something hard and unyielding. She was suffocated, couldn’t catch her breath, no one would hear her, she’d die tied up and alone.

Damn it. Nooo.

“I want my Sir. I want him. Ross, Sir, I need you.” Did he hear her? Why would he? This was her nightmare, not his. “
Sir, tell him no, tell him…”

“Kitten, wake up. You’re dreaming.” This slap was enough to flip her head back. It jarred and her neck rocked back and forward. “Shane, kitten, do as your Sir says. Now.”

The timbre of his voice penetrated into Shane’s consciousness and she moaned. The panicky breathing slowed and she gulped back her sobs.

“That’s it, kitten. You’re here with your Sir. Ssh… Open your eyes now. Look and see where you are.”

“Don’ wanna.” What if he lied? What if it was all a big ploy to catch her and show her how silly she was to think it was all over? “Why?”

“Kitten. You’ll make me cross if you don’t obey me.” It was definitely Sir. “Look at me. Now.”

Shane opened her eyes somewhat reluctantly and realized she still stared at a T-shirted chest. From the corner of one eye, she noticed her robe was off one shoulder and the belt wrapped around one of her wrists and across one of Ross’ ankles. She had no idea how that had happened. Very cautiously, Shane moved her head to stare up at the concerned face of Ross.

“Sir.” She clutched a handful of T-shirt. “Oh, my God, Sir.” She burst into noisy, cathartic tears. “Don’t let me go.”

“No, kitten, I won’t let you go,” Ross said. “Cry it all out.” He slipped his hand under her bathrobe and scribed soft, soothing circles.

How long they stayed like that, Shane had no idea. Ross continued his soft stroking of her back and nuzzled her hair as he murmured silly nothings to her in a calm and steady voice. Eventually she shuddered, sniffed and hiccoughed.

“Better?” Ross handed her a fine lawn hankie. “Blow.”

Shane gave a watery giggle. “On this? It looks expensive.”

“It probably was, but, hey, it’ll wash. My mum is a great one for every man carrying a proper handkerchief. I get three new ones every birthday and Christmas. I threatened to tie them together and use them for bondage.”

Shane struggled to sit up, and stared at him. “You didn’t?”

“Uh-huh.” He kissed her forehead. “She said she’d wondered when I’d think of that. No flies on mum. She’s a Domme and according to my subbie dad, a bloody good one. He calls her ‘My Lady’, and she calls him petal.”

“Petal?” Shane vaguely remembered Ross’ stevedore dad. A petal he wasn’t—more like the whole flower, or even the bush.

Ross shrugged. “Works for them, kitten. How you feeling now? Ready for bed? I was going to turn on the electric blanket, but I was side tracked.”

“By a shrieking, screaming, crazy subbie?”

“By wanting to care for my lovely, brave subbie who fought as if the hounds of Hell were snapping at her heels.”

His words cosseted her and gave Shane the strength to know what to do next. She slid off his lap, very slowly slipped the robe off her body and pushed it away. Then she knelt at his feet, put her head into his lap, kissed his groin gently and forced herself not to jump when his cock twitched under her touch.

“Sir?” Shane lifted her head to look at him. His dark eyes shone in the lamp light and his expression was full of something she daren’t hope was care rather than compassion.

“Kitten?”

“Sir, I’m scared to sleep alone. What if the nightmares come back?” She didn’t think it lightly. She hadn’t had one for years, and knowing Ross was close too and ready to look after her made it almost a certainty her sleep would be nightmare free. However, she might need all the ammunition she had, so she’d use it.

“Ah, kitten, if I sleep with you, sleep won’t be the only thing we do.”

Shane bowed her head. “I’m sort of counting on that, Sir. Ross, please be a Dom for me. My Dom.”

Chapter Nine

Now what the hell does she mean by that?
Ross mulled over Shane’s words. “In my bed?” he prodded. “As my sub?”

She gulped. “If that’s what you want, Sir.”

He could see the inner battle she was having with herself reflected in her expression. “We won’t just have sex. You know that, kitten. There will be more than sex involved.”

“I know, Sir. I accept that, and I’ll be happy to do whatever my Sir wants.”

“Upsadaisy then.” Ross waited until Shane scrambled to her feet. “Last door on the left. Bathroom inside. Fresh toothbrush in the cabinet. I’ll give you five minutes and expect to see you naked on the bed on your back, legs apart and your arms holding the headboard. I seem to remember I owe you some cuss word spanks.”

She paled then grinned. “Yes, Sir, I remember.”

It took a lot of determination not to say what the hell and follow her straight away. Ross counted off the minutes before he switched off the lights in the kitchen and lounge and made his way to the master bathroom. There he showered and cleaned his teeth, before slipping on a clean pair of leather trousers and a tight black waistcoat. He might as well set the scene. After making sure he had enough condoms in his pocket, Ross walked toward his bedroom. The door was half open and through the gap he could see Shane in the position he’d requested. It emphasized her beautiful breasts and made her nipples stand up. Her pussy, sadly still covered in hair, was a mound that called to his primal, dominant self, and the trickle of her juice that slicked her legs a turn on he couldn’t—and wouldn’t—ignore. Once he knew she’d seen his attire and by her erratic breath, accepted it was arousing her, Ross stripped with more haste than finesse and stood at the bottom of the bed.

“Like I said, kitten, we won’t just have sex tonight if I stay here.”

“No, Sir, I understand.”

“Good.” He pinched each nipple in turn, hard enough to make her gasp and writhe at the sting of pain he knew he’d inflicted.

“No, kitten. I know this for a fact and you’ll find out very soon—not sex, and not subbing. We’re going to make love.”

It was worth all the pain of his excruciating arousal and his rock hard shaft to see the surprised, disappointed then joyous expression on her face.

There was no need for any more words on the subject. Ross lifted her legs to rest on his shoulders, bent his head and put his mouth to her pussy lips. She was so very wet, her taste gushed into his mouth as soon as he touched her. He swallowed the sweet feminine offering, nibbled around her clit and pulled the hard little nub into his mouth. Shane arched up off the bed and he pressed his hand on her tummy. No words were needed, and she flattened herself to the mattress once more with no more than a slight gasp and moan. He lifted his head long enough to praise her, “Good, kitten,” before he renewed his assault, not only with his mouth on her clit, but also his fingers on her nipples. Her head thrashed from side to side, and her breath puffed out in tiny shallow pants.

“No coming…not before I say so.” They might not be scening, but that he could abide by.

“Noo, ah, shit, yes, okay, one more spank, ten more, hell, twenty, but, Sir, please, it’s been so long. Ahh, ahh…”

The keening sound Shane made shook him to the core. It might seem a contradiction in terms, but although Ross was a sadist, he wasn’t cruel.

“One second, kitten, let me come inside you and feel you climax all around my cock.” He moved to one side, donned a condom faster than he’d known it was possible and moved back between her legs. Her pussy and thighs were wet, and he knew her channel would be even more so. With no subtlety whatsoever, Ross pulled Shane down the bed until her butt was only just supported, lifted her legs onto his shoulders once more and thrust hard and sure into her pussy.

Three thrusts and she screamed and began to shake. Ross held her down firmly and continued to push. Her pussy was tight, her muscles clamped around him like a velvet vice, and his cock throbbed with his need to come. A film covered his eyes, making it hard to see clearly, his body stiffened, then red hot heat washed over his skin and into his very core as his climax hit him fast and furious, and he fell over the edge with a shout of completion.

Ross’ legs and arms were jelly, and he found it hard to get enough air into his lungs to even wheeze. Shit, he sounded like an old man in his death throes, not a younger one after the best climax he’d ever experienced. Maybe they were one and the same? He let his body slump for a moment, until the shaking in his arms warned him he was about to fall, face first, onto Shane. She lay on the bed, her legs still over his shoulders with her eyes closed.

“More,” she slurred. “When I recover in twenty years’ time, can we do it again?”

“Ten, twenty, hell, two hundred. Times and years and…and…need to move, ditch the condom.” At least he hoped that was what he said. It could have been gibberish, for all he knew. His ears were ringing and the only other sound he could hear was the double beat of their hearts. So at least they weren’t dead then.

“Ditches. We’re not in a ditch. Oh, I’m babbling, like a brook, in a ditch,” she sniggered. “Oh, help, tell me to shut up.”

“Shut up, kitten,” Ross said obligingly. “Stay where you are. I’ll be back.”

He spent the bare minimum of time in the bathroom. Just long enough to wash, relieve himself and clean his teeth, before he went back to Shane, carrying a damp flannel and a warm towel. Heated towel rails were a godsend.

The lights flickered as he reached the bed and Ross started. Where had he put the flash lamp and candles? It was almost a given they’d lose power on a night like this. Resolutely he ignored the way the light ebbed and flowed and instead applied the washcloth to Shane’s pussy and legs. She wriggled. “I can do that.”

“So can I, kitten. It’s an honor. Hold still.” He dried her carefully, covered her with the duvet then dropped the towel and flannel on the floor. “I’m off to get candles and torches. The power will almost certainly go as the wind gets up. I won’t be long.” The lights flickered again.

“Self-fulfilling prophecy,” Shane said as she snuggled down under the duvet Ross tucked around her. “Can you bring some water and the biscuits, please, Sir? I promise not to put crumbs in the bed.”

“I can do better than that, kitten, just you wait and see.”

* * * *

Ross made a beeline to the cupboard where he hoped he’d find at least one flashlight. He found two, plus a bag of tea lights and the emergency box of matches he’d put with them. When you lived in the back of beyond, it made sense to be covered for power cuts in bad weather. As the castle was at the end of the line, they were often the first to suffer a blackout and the last to have power restored. Hence the oil-fired Aga and open fires were not just nice to use and great to look at, they were more than practical. Those plus a few basic camping stoves meant he could cope until the emergency generator kicked in. As the generator
was
for emergencies only, and used more in the club than the apartments, it might provide basic light but little else.