Unleashed: Volume 3 (Unleashed #3) (11 page)

There was still so much
that I didn’t know about him, but I wanted to know it all. We’d
been so intimate the past few days, but he always held himself
tightly in reserve. When we were together it was as passionate and
intense as an explosion of dynamite, but I also wanted the long, slow
burn of lazy hours. I wanted to lie in bed and talk about everything
and anything, from silly little things we’d heard on the radio to
the deepest secrets we’d never told another soul. And I wanted
endless days to touch and explore, kiss every scar, love each inch of
his tattooed, muscled body.

“Courtney’s been a
big supporter,” he continued, breaking me right out of my reverie.
“She’s pulled all of this together. I don’t know what I would
do without her.”

“Courtney? From the
restaurant yesterday morning?” With the blood red nails that she
trailed down his shoulder?

“Yes. Without her, my
foundation wouldn’t be in on the fundraiser Saturday night. She’s
amazing.”

Funny how my gooey
emotions dried up quick. Such was the magic of Courtney with her
tweezed eyebrows and silk pantsuit. I grit my teeth. He sounded so
enamored of her and her lovely, charitable help.

Declan held my hand as
we stepped up into the magnificent theater, and he held my hand as we
sat together in the red velvet seats. He wrapped his arm around my
waist as we headed back into the limo afterwards and on the way back
to our hotel, he nuzzled my hair all over again.

I did enjoy the show, I
really did. I’d never seen such dancing and singing live,
in-person, and I couldn’t imagine all the talent on and off the
stage required to create that kind of spectacle. But jealousy had
wound its serpent’s tail up and around my heart. I couldn’t stop
thinking about Courtney, the one who belonged in this high-end world.
The one who could pull strings and use her connections to help Declan
out. Courtney who’d looked at me like I’d crawled out from
underneath a rock. And, compared to her, I basically had. She’d
probably been to schools I’d never heard of, traveled to places I’d
never read about, was on a first name basis with people so important
they’d never even crossed my radar.

I shouldn’t let her
get to me.

She got to me.

“Did you like the
show?” Declan asked, clearly picking up on my stiffness.

“Yes! Yes, I did!”
My tight smile looked stupid, I knew. I’d never been able to fake a
single thing, not for a second in my life. So freaking annoying.

“I thought you’d
like a big musical,” Declan continued. “But maybe you’re more
of a gritty drama kind of a girl.” I knew he was teasing me—we
both knew gritty drama wasn’t exactly my sweet spot—but I
couldn’t let go.

My phone blipped with a text.
Automatically, I pulled it out to see:

Wanna hang out 2nite?

Ah, romance. Bruce
always had had a way with words. I rolled my eyes and put the phone
away. But not before Declan had seen.

“Bruce?” he asked,
his voice and his body tense.

“It’s nothing.” I
waved the air in front of me as if shooing away a gnat.

“Bruce Miller? From
high school?”

“He’s divorced now
and back in town—”

“And you’re hanging
out with him again.” Off went his arm from around my shoulders.

“Declan.” I turned
to him. “I’ve seen him, like, twice since he’s been back.”

“Oh yeah? You’ve
gone out twice?” He looked at me, cold and calm with disturbing
detachment. I squirmed in my seat. This was heading downhill, fast,
but it didn’t have to go there. Bruce meant nothing to me,
absolutely nothing.

“No, we haven’t
been out. He’s come around the Chat ‘n’ Chew. Oh, and then one
other time at the ranch.”

The limo pulled up in
front of our hotel. Declan stepped out and headed to the entrance
without offering me his hand. I followed, half-rolling my eyes at his
jealous flare-up, half-desperate to make sure he understood. Bruce
didn’t matter to me at all, not in the least.

Up in the elevator,
down the hallway, into the hotel room, Declan didn’t say a word. I
sputtered along, cajoling him, offering explanations, but it was like
his mind was on auto-pilot. His jaw was set and nothing I said or did
got through to him or took him off course.

He strode directly into
the master bedroom. I followed him, nervous, silly things tripping
off my tongue. I didn’t know what I was saying but I wanted him to
turn to me, put his arms around me again, kiss me and tell me he
understood, he cared.

Instead, he ripped off
his tie and flung his jacket onto the bureau. Rolling up his sleeves,
he finally turned to me, locking me with a steely glare.

“It’s time I began
your training. You’re not taking this week seriously. Now you’re
going to see what kind of a master I am.”

“What?” I didn’t
know what he was saying, what he meant. Butterflies fluttered in my
stomach and I caught my breath, frightened, excited.

“Now you are going to
do exactly what I say,” he told me with complete authority. “I am
going to train your ass for my pleasure. Now strip.”

I gasped. What did he
mean, train my ass? I remembered yesterday in the dressmaker’s
shop, his two fingers deep in my forbidden hole. I felt so
embarrassed that I’d let him do that. No one had ever touched me
there before. I’d come so hard from him finger-fucking my ass. How
was he going to train me?

Scared, unsure, but
driven on, I slipped out of my dress and lay it on the dresser. I
didn’t want to take the time to hang it up. I knew he wouldn’t
want me to and, honestly, I felt too eager under his hot, watchful
gaze. I didn’t know what he was going to do to me, but my body was
already shaking with need for it.

Removing my bra, I
stepped out of my panties, then my heels. Declan stood a few feet
away from me, his arms crossed against his massive chest, darkly
watching my every move.

Quivering, I stood
before him completely naked.

“Kneel.” He
ordered, pointing down to the plush carpet before him.

A week ago, if you’d
told me I would strip naked and kneel at the feet of a man at his
command, I would have told you to go to hell. But at Declan’s
order, I did what I was told, a rosy flush stealing over my face,
body and chest. I could feel arousal bloom deep inside of me.

He walked around,
surveying me as I knelt there, naked, hands by my sides.

“I need to train you
because by the end of this week you’re going to take every inch of
my cock up your ass,” he explained, cold and clear. My pussy
clenched and I swayed slightly in response. “I’m going to fuck
your ass hard. So you need to work up to it.” He stood before me
now and I could see his cock pushing against his pants, the hard,
long bulge a reminder of his immense size. I honestly couldn’t
imagine taking him all in my ass. It would hurt so much. I couldn’t
do it.

He watched me and I
could tell he could see the panic in my eyes. It made him smile.

“You should be
nervous,” he agreed. “I’m going to stretch you and you are
going to be very tight.” His words should have made me want to run
from the room. Instead, my nipples tightened, their pebbled, pink
buds betraying my arousal to him. I wanted him to stretch my ass, and
he knew it.

“Yes.” He reached
out two fingers to a nipple, teasing it lightly between his fingers.
Tilting my head back, I leaned into his touch. “I know what you
need, Kara.” My lips parted in a moan. I needed him.

He withdrew his
fingers. Striding over to the master bedroom closet, he reached up to
a shelf and took out a black leather case.

“I bought something
for you, Kara. Now it’s time to show you.”

I knelt there, riveted,
watching as he snapped open the case and took out two large, black
rubber objects. They were each longer than his hand, one wider than
the other, smooth and shiny.

“Do you know what
these are?” he asked, standing them up on the bureau.

“No,” I answered
honestly.

“I didn’t think you
would.” He sounded pleased at my innocence. “They are butt plugs.
I’m going to shove them up your ass. Tonight this one.” He
pointed to the smaller of the two. “Tomorrow this one.” He picked
up the larger plug and held it in front of my shocked face. My jaw
dropped in surprise. Butt plugs? That sounded so shockingly vulgar,
that black rubber thing impossibly huge. I couldn’t take that up my
ass!

“Declan.” I shook
my head, shrinking away. “I can’t—!”

“Kara.” He cupped
my chin in his hand, tilting my face up to him. I could feel the
warmth of his palm and instinctively leaned toward him again, wanting
more. My face came close to his erection, right near the hard length
of him pressing against his pants.

“You can stop me, you
know,” he said, quietly, surely. “You may tell me to stop and
this is all over.” He looked into my eyes. I looked back up and
didn’t say a word. “Or,” he continued, “you may choose to
take your punishment. You can show me how much you want this. And you
can please me very much.” His thumb caressed my chin, lightly
brushed against my lips and I moaned, my eyes fluttering closed. The
slightest touch from him incited a riot within me.

“Good,” he
whispered and my pussy throbbed in response. Oh how I wanted to
please him.

His voice harsh again,
he continued, “Now I’m going to blindfold you, tie you up and
start your training.”

My eyes flew open.
Blindfold? He’d done it once before and I’d liked it, I had, but
it was such a loss of control. And to be tied up and blindfolded at
the same time?

He brought a black silk
band between his two hands and pulled it taut with a snap. I jumped
as if he’d hit me.

“This will not hurt,”
he reassured me. But there was an implication in his statement. This
wouldn’t, but other things he was about to do would. I stayed still
as he tied the silk blindfold across my eyes and behind my head,
secure but not too tight. He brought his thumb again to my lips,
caressing, and I parted them in response.

“I like seeing you
like this,” he murmured. “Do you remember why you wear the
blindfold?” he asked. My mind blank, I shook my head no. “To
heighten your senses,” he said, bringing just one finger down my
throat and along the bone of my clavicle. I shivered at his touch,
wondering where he would go next. “Without seeing, you feel more.”
He dipped down, slightly, tracing the curve of my breast, and I
moaned.

“Now bend down on all
fours. I’ll guide you.” I did as I was told, bending down. He
grasped my wrists and pulled them together, then guided me onto my
elbows. “That’s it,” he praised, “ass up.” I arched my back
up for him, naked on the plush rug as he tied my wrists together.

“You’re tied to the
foot of the bed, Kara,” he explained. I pulled lightly at my
restraints and felt he was right, I couldn’t move my wrists. A
flood of nervousness traveled the length of my body. I couldn’t
see, couldn’t get away. What was he going to do to me?

He brought his hand
down to the curve of my naked bottom, slow, gentle, sweet, caressing
my flesh. Sighing, I pressed into his touch. It felt so good. He
stroked my cheeks, all the while angling me up, tilting my hips and
spreading my knees slightly further apart to give him full access.

“So wet already,
Kara,” he said approvingly, bringing two fingers to the outer edges
of my pussy lips. I purred for him, wanting him to see how much I
loved this, how much my body belonged to him. He brought two fingers
flat up along my dripping slit. “I’m going to use your lube up in
your ass,” he explained.

Just one finger at
first, he began rimming my asshole, feeling around the edges. I
tensed in response. He wasn’t supposed to go in there, that wasn’t
OK. He hissed. “Open up, Kara. Let me in.” He worked me,
fingering more of my own juices up to the entrance and coaxing my
puckered hole. Slowly, I felt his finger work my tight ring, then
enter.

I gasped as he pushed
into me. “That’s right,” he coaxed, “take me in.” With more
lube, he kept fingering me, working me, stroking me inside and before
I knew it I was moaning and working with him, pulsing and pushing
against his fingers, wanting more.

“Remember back when I
first met you?” he asked, his voice low in his throat, husky. He
brought a second finger to my entrance and pushed both deep into my
asshole. I moaned and took what he gave me. “Remember how you used
to tease me in those little skirts? That day you washed your truck,
trying to get me to watch?”

I twisted a little
underneath him, embarrassed. He was right. I’d done all that and
more. “You were a little cock tease, weren’t you, Kara?” His
hands worked my ass. I said nothing. I didn’t want to admit it. His
hand came down, hard across my bottom. Tears sprang to my eyes under
the silk of the blindfold and I cried out in pain. Whack, he smacked
my ass again and it burned.

“Admit it,” he
continued, keeping on with his assault on my ass, fingers up my tight
hole, palm coming down rough on my soft cheek. “Admit that you were
a little cock tease.”

“Yes,” I panted,
moaning, burning.

“Say it,” he
commanded, another sharp smack landing on my bottom.

“I was a cock tease!”
I cried out.

“Yes, you were.”
Now he stroked me, first my hot cheeks, then down to my wet, naughty
pussy, all the while thrusting his fingers back and forth, deep into
my asshole. “Back then I couldn’t do this to you. I wanted to.
And I knew you needed it. But I couldn’t do it, could I?”

“No,” I responded,
remembering how it had been. He’d been the ranch hand. I’d been
the boss’s daughter.

“Now I have you
exactly where I want you.” His thrusting in my ass grew more
urgent, harsher, more demanding. “Now I can do anything I want with
you. You’re under my control.”