Tameable (Warrior Masters) (2 page)

“Stop your crying, Katrina and accept your punishment.  You will earn yourself a longer spanking and a stay in your locked room if you don’t.”

But he did have to spank her a little harder before she became limp and penitent over his knee quietly sobbing.

“Good girl, Katrina.  Just a little more to make sure your punishment has hit home. “

Haydn gave her three more hard slaps for good measure and then ceased her torment.  He massaged her swollen red flaming buttocks.  I winced, thinking about how hot her flesh would feel.  She would be lucky if she could sit down for a week.  I felt shame at having been aroused and I was uncomfortable with my feelings after having born witness to Katrina’s painful chastisement.  To my horror I found I was soaking wet between my thighs.  Shame burned hotly inside me and betrayed itself in a warm flush to my cheeks.

Haydn pulled his wife up to sitting in his lap.  He spread her legs wide across him.  She sat looking at him sobbing as he encircled her waist with his hands and began tearing the dress from her body until he freed her and her soft gently moulded milky white breasts bounced out of it.  He tossed the silky material to the side
and viewed his naked wife lustily.  Only her grey and silver high-heeled party shoes remained on her feet.  I jumped when she slapped his face hard.

“You will pay for that dress.  It was one of my favourites.”

He whipped his jaw back sharply and rubbed it.  He grinned.  God he was handsome.  His features were refined, aristocratic and he wielded power easily.

“I will buy you a hundred dresses like it, baby.  Just do as I tell you.  I want you in my arms forever, not dead.  Now come to papa and let me satisfy that ache between your thighs.  I know you are wet.  Yo
u always are after a punishment, little girl.”

I watched Haydn unzip his trousers and lift out his cock.  It was long, thick and crushingly hard more than adequate enough to satisfy any woman’s pleasure including my own I thought with lament.  Then he lifted Katrina up as though her weight was a mere nothing and lowered her down on to it.  With a grunt he moved up deep inside her.

“You are so wet, Katrina.  I love it when you are wet.  I want you wet all the time, baby.”

He nuzzled his face against her breasts, sipping at one taut nipple as he helped move her up and down on top of him.  It was freezing cold yet Katrina and Haydn did not seem the slightest bit bothered by the snowy weather.  They looked gorgeous together.

I shifted uneasily feeling the wet discomfort and ache between my thighs making me wish I was in Katrina’s place.  It had been so long since I had been taken by a man.  It was unfair.  Tears gathered in my eyes.  I was alone without a husband without anyone.

Katrina leaned back thrusting more of her breast in to his mouth.  Haydn reached one hand up to her hair and pulled at the pins that restrained it.  They tumbled out to the ground freeing her dark brown hair from its prison.  It fell in curls around her shoulders giving her a goddess like appearance.  Sadness, dismay and jealousy seared through me.  She was beautiful.  No wonder she possessed such a handsome husband who loved her so strongly.

She panted.  He grunted lifting himself up in the chair to penetrate her deeply as she hotly moved down on him.  I jumped again when his hand reached out to give her breasts a sudden slap.  I had never seen a woman breast slapped before and I found myself intrigued.  He repeated the action when she moaned loudly and received another enticing response.

“I want you to come, Katrina.  Come on my command.  Be a good girl and come for papa,” he grinned.  I watched him nuzzle her neck.  He opened hi
s mouth and grazed his teeth along the sensitive skin of her throat.  She moaned heavily.  Then to my shock he sank his teeth in to her skin.  My mind dismissed it as a love bite because I saw no blood drawn but somewhere deep inside my mind I knew better.  It was some sort of a bite.  I was disturbed that along with Katrina I was highly aroused by the action.

Katrina groaned loudly in between delivering a series of purrs and helpless cries of pleasure.  Haydn
continued to nibble at her skin and reached down to her bottom.  With firm strikes he spanked her buttocks again.  She cried with pain and gripped his shoulders tight for support.  Her movements became frantic as she pumped down on top of his hard dominating length.  Another two slaps and a cry from Haydn of,  “Come for papa, now” in a loud commanding voice, and Katrina was panting and coming like a wild woman.  She writhed against him pushing down hard on his cock.  He pushed up in hard staccato thrusts and came with her, inserting a probing middle digit between the enticing crease of her buttocks and up inside her anal entrance.  I drew my breath when he pushed it in and out in rhythm with his thrusts in to her vagina every time she pushed down on him hard.

The urge to slip my hand down my trousers and masturbate and satisfy my aching vagina was potent but I refrained for the sake of propriety and fear of being caught.  But oh how I wanted to take my own pleasure.  They looked so good together.  I felt ashamed at myself for watching when Katrina slumped against her husband spent with pleasure feeling him rub her sore bottom in a comforting protective gesture.  He removed his mouth from her neck and licked his lips.  Katrina clung to him tightly as if she let go she would fall and collapse without his loving support.

Within seconds he was lifting her up in his arms.  Her legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her in to the house.  I got the distinct impression he was hardening inside her once again.

“Good baby, let’s get you to bed where I can keep you safe,” he whispered.  “Time for sleep.  No one is going to hurt my baby,” he whispered lovingly.

I moved away from the hole in the fence envious rubbing at my tear stained face.  I turned back to the copse feeling eyes upon me once more but I could see nothing.  Afraid I hurried back to the house and locked the door quickly.  I went to bed feeling miserable and lonely.

I finally met him tonight.  My daughter and I moved in here over a week ago but I had only ever seen my mysterious neighbour getting into his car at night. 
His house was opposite my own, one of a new development of twelve ten-bedroom, Georgian-style houses in a cul-de-sac with a gated entrance.  I was making a quick dash to my car to get my IPod and he came out and caught me.  And by caught me, I mean with no make-up on, hair in need of a wash and grey joggers.  Curses!

He came out of his front door between the pillars dressed in a black tuxedo.
  He was a striking and breath-taking sight against the white snow covering the ground. I leaned in the car and kept my head down as though I was rummaging about and couldn’t find what I was looking for.  I hoped to hell he didn’t notice me but I couldn’t help lamenting the chance to get a look at the tempting eye candy.  I never heard his car start and I couldn’t stall any longer.  I wondered if he had gone back in the house and I could make a cool sharp exit.  I was bloody freezing.  Quickly I looked up to check if the coast was clear.

He gave me one hell of a fright when I found him standing right next to my bent figure leaning into the car, bum pushed out towards his face.  To humiliate myself further I jumped and banged my head off the roof of the car.  He was so apologetic, so eager to make sure I was all right.  I just wanted to die.

It was pure magic when he spoke.  He was American.  From California he said.  He had one of those voices that roll over you like a gentle caress making you just want to hang on to every word.  I rubbed my head attempting to laugh off my injury, all the time wanting to scream with embarrassment more than from the pain it caused me.  This is not how I normally look I wanted to say, I can do better.  Instead I asked him to excuse the mess I was but I was a writer and I liked to be comfortable when I worked.  I was suddenly more afraid that he would take me for a ditsy divorcee living off her ex- husband’s money and living it up instead of forging a new independent life.  Well, it matters to me what people think.  There was the inevitable discussion about my writing and the first dark fantasy novel that had just been published. 

I forced a smile wishing he would let me escape and at the same time just wanting him to talk more so I could listen to his voice. 

“Sorry, I haven’t introduced myself,” he said after our short conversation.  “I am Roman Price.”

Tall, dark, brooding and extremely
well groomed.  Apparently he was in his early forties, although he looked much younger.  I would have actually said in his middle twenties.  Odd but perfect.  He had dark brown eyes and short hair to match and there was some very sexy designer stubble around his mouth and jaw.  Very nice.

I gushed as I told him my name and shook his hand when he offered it.  He seemed to hold my hand for longer than necessary or maybe that was my imagination or wishful thinking.  Roman owned a nightclub in London, The Midnight Lounge.  It sounded like a swish place.  He enquired whether I was settling into my new home well and was there anything he could do to help make it any easier?

Oh yes, you could put an end to a year of frustration, I thought as I smiled and told him no thank you everything was fine but thanks for the offer.  His gorgeous lips curled seductively into a smile and he stared straight into my green eyes just as though he’d heard my thoughts.  I know he couldn’t possibly have but his eyes told me a different story.  I swear I blushed.  Hell, if he’d heard...  I gave myself a mental note just in case he was somehow telepathic or something, not to think naughty thoughts around Roman Price.  Well, you never know, do you?

Roman had a son called Connor.  His age was around fourteen.  The same age as my daughter.  I asked about his wife.  I thought it rude not to enquire if he had one.  Besides I had to check before I got my hopes up
any more than I already had done.  So much for my resolve not to get involved with men ever again after my divorce.  I wasn’t really serious about finding another man but I needed to know if he was attached for future reference, just in case.  I had never seen a woman at the house.

“No, I am not married.  That is, not anymore.  My wife died two years ago in a car accident,” he told me quietly.

“I am so sorry,” I said slowly feeling guilty I had asked. 

“We moved to England for a change and to start again.  I have a lot of family in England so it was easy,” he informed.  “And my brother
Julian already lived here in Peachum so this is where we settled.”

He changed the subject very quickly after that.  I felt awful for him.  As if a man like him would look at me.  I could dream.  He began talking about the other neighbours.  All the time he was talking I couldn’t take my eyes from his.  They were so hypnotic, drawing me in until I felt lost inside them.  It was unnerving but exciting at the same time.

The other neighbours sounded friendly enough but I have to say I rarely see them.  They often have parties and are having a belated New Year’s one at Roman’s house.  He wants me to come and bring my daughter.  I thanked him for his invitation, I would be there but my daughter had already left to stay with her father for the last two weeks of her holidays.  Then he started to leave.  I was about to make a quick exit when he suddenly stopped and turned back to speak to me again.

“
Are you feeling all right, Amanda?  You look a little pale?”  I was surprised by the way he seemed to scrutinise me for signs of illness.  “There is a nasty bug going around.  If you need a doctor, my brother is a Consultant at the local hospital.  He lives with me at the moment and he would be able to give you a check over, if you wanted,” there was real concern in his voice.

“I think it’s cold.  I’ve just got a headache.  Thank you for the offer but I will be ok.”

“Well, make sure you get some rest.  Oh by the way, if you need anything or you get frightened by something at night, give me a call.  Living at the end of the street next to the woods like we do can be a little frightening at night when you are on your own,” he smiled.

“I’ll be fine,” I t
old him surprised.  I could look after myself.  “But again, thanks for the offer.”

As I spoke he took his wallet out of his inside pocket and removed a card.  He handed it to me.

“Here is my number.  If I can be of help do not hesitate to call at any time,” he was determined not to take no for an answer.

I nodded.  He flashed me a warm infectious smile.  I said goodnight and walked back towards the house noticing that he stood by his car watching until I was safely inside.  What a gentleman!   Sneaking a peak out of the window, I wistfully watched him get into his sleek black Mercedes and drive off.

Writing was hard that night.  I began fretting about what I should wear for the party and spent most of the night going through my wardrobe for a special outfit before deciding I had
nothing to wear.  I would go on an emergency shopping trip to remedy the situation.  My head was aching and had been off and on since I first moved in.  It was making me wonder if I had some kind of virus.  I felt sick and was off my food for the last couple of days.  My stomach kept cramping off and on.  I could have sworn I was also running a temperature that evening.  It made me wonder if I should see a doctor.  Maybe, Roman’s brother was as hot as him.

I took my dark brown hair out of its ponytail and allowed it to curl free around my shoulders thinking about how I should perhaps change the colour and brighten myself up.  I didn’t want to look my drab old self at the party. I looked at myself in the hall mirror and decided I needed some new eye shadow to compliment my dark chocolate eyes and bring them out a lot more.  I did look pale, but that was often the case.  People remarked on how smooth, pale and line-free my face was for being in my forties.  Whatever dress I bought would have to show the best of my slim curves.  I skimmed my hands over my hips, lamenting at not being skinny with a boyish figure so many women on the TV seemed to sport these days.  Men like curves, I reminded myself, but it was hopeless. I still felt I had the wrong shape, especially for a man like Roman Price.  I was also probably too old for him.  He might be roughly the same age but with looks as hot and youthful as his, he could easily get a younger woman.  It was hopeless.  I would never attract him.  I was small and round to me.  Standing on my tiptoes, I wondered what it would be like to be tall and willowy.  If I actually plucked up the courage to go to the party, I would need some seriously high heels to make me fit in and look more glamorous.  But how the hell was I going to walk in them?  Tomorrow I would buy some and wear them around the house to practice walking in them.

Trying desperately to convince myself I could look good among sexy neighbours like Katrina next door
, I went to my room and opened the wardrobe to see if I already had the look I wanted in there.  I had millions of clothes.  Some might call me a collector or a hoarder.  Thing was, I loved clothes and I wasn’t apologising for it.  Any excuse to buy some and I was right there.

I tried on a few outfits but they weren’t working for me.  I experimented with my hair
and my make-up.  Nothing made me feel good.  My last ditch attempt was to try on my favourite pair of jeans with a sexy pink top and some black heels with diamantes on them.  The lipstick I wanted was downstairs in my bag on a dining room chair.  I rushed down to get it, pausing to apply it in front of the hall mirror, and then made my way back up to check out the whole ensemble.  Something made me pause on the small landing and look out of the window into the garden just as I had done the other night.

I should never have looked out.  It reminded me of that movie, Salem’s Lot.  You know when the boy opens his curtains at night after hearing a scratching sound at the window and finds his dead friend turned vampire floating at the window scratching his nails down it! Ugh.  I couldn’t open the curtains for two months after watching that movie as a teenager.  Still not happy doing it.  Huh
and me a successful paranormal romance author.   

His face was obscured by
the shadows but I just had that feeling that he was looking up at me.  Then he seemed to vanish.  I heard banging at the back door as though someone was trying to kick the door in.  Then I heard my name being called loudly.

“Amanda, Amanda,” the voice was determined and angry.  “Let me in.  It is my right to claim you.  Open the door, now.  I will be civil if you obey me,” the male voice could barely contain his frustration to be let in.  I was terrified.

My heart began to thud.  What the hell was he talking about?  He was some kind of crazed nut.  I had never heard it beat so loud before.  My small spaniel, Puzzle, went bananas, barking and taking off down the stairs to investigate and defend me from the would-be intruder.  It spurred me into action.  I searched for something heavy and found my bronze lovers statute a friend had bought me for my birthday years ago staring at me on the windowsill.  What a thing to hit someone over the head with.  Still, it was heavy as hell and would do the trick should I need to go that far to protect myself.

Descending
the stairs with weapon in hand, heart thumping until I thought it might escape from my chest and run down the road, I opened the locked door to the kitchen that Puzzle stood barking outside and ran through it.  That’s when I remembered Roman’s card with his telephone number.  No, I decided. I would prove that I could look after myself.  A part of me was screaming at me to call the police, but my mobile was in my bag in the dining room and by the time I got it and rang, the man could be in the house.

I ran into the laundry room off the kitchen with the dog and stood in front of the frosted glass door
leading out to the garden, paralysed.  I could see a large, dark shape of a man.  He was banging on the door.

“I can see you, Amanda.  The code requires me to be civil but if you do not let me in I will break down the door and take you by force,” the dark male voice boomed at me.

  I put my weapon of choice down on the floor and moved to the door and quickly moved some unpacked boxes in front of it, shouting for him to go away, that I was armed with a deadly weapon.

The door began to rattle and shake just
like my body.  Stepping back and scooping the dog up into my arms, I wondered if now was the time to find my mobile and ring the police.  But I couldn’t move with fright.  I was paralysed waiting for whatever it was to come through the door.

“You deny me the right to take you.  Then so be it.  I will take you by force.”

The door suddenly opened and flew off its hinges scattering the boxes up in to the air and away from blocking the door.  They hurtled towards me making me jump out of the way.  I took another two steps back aiming my statute, feeling tears in my eyes as the shadow of a large man stood in the doorway.  His eyes were glowing red when he advanced towards me.  I was paralysed, I just couldn’t move even though inside my head I screamed at myself to throw my makeshift weapon at him.

All of a sudden I felt the presence of someone at my left side and then my right.  I turned quickly roused from my paralysis by my own gasp of frightened surprise.  Roman Price and a man who appeared identical in appearance stood on either side of me.  It seemed Roman had a twin.  I couldn’t believe that was what I was thinking about first instead of how the hell did they get in my house?  But there it was
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