Master of the Abyss

Chapter Fourteen

Jake had gone home by the time Kallie awoke, and loneliness had sheered through her so hard she almost started crying. Again. Shoving it back, she’d taken a shower, making it cold enough to wipe out any warm and fuzzy feelings.

She and Wyatt and Morgan had spent the rest of the day talking to the police and doing chores. Thank God for chores. She’d actually argued with Wyatt for the privilege of turning over the compost heap.

After the cops and all had finally left, she’d cooked supper despite her cousins’ attempts to help. She might have found their bumbling efforts to show how much they loved her funny if they hadn’t also made her want to cry.

Of course, all that sweetness and light hadn’t lasted long, and now they were faced off in the entry, with Morgan and Wyatt blocking her escape.

Even the night air wafting in the open front door couldn’t cool Kallie’s annoyance. She glared at the two, then glanced to her right. “Virgil?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Absolutely not.”

Three against one. What was fair about this? “Absolutely so.”

“Knock, knock.” Jake appeared in the doorway and rudely shoved Wyatt and Morgan aside so he could step in. His gaze took in the room. “Standoff at the OK Corral?”

“Something like that,” Virgil said.

Jake smiled at her, then obviously noticed the backpack at her feet. Now one more person scowled at her. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m going for a walk.”

“At night? And where were you planning to walk?”

“That’s none of your-” She stopped when he raised his chin just an inch. Damn him. “Fine,” she muttered. “I’m going back up the mountain.”

“No, you’re not,” Wyatt said loudly for the hundredth time, and Morgan echoed him.

Jake didn’t say anything. He studied her for a second, rubbed his hand over his cheek and chin, and then pulled in a slow breath. “Tell me why.”

How could she not love him? He had all the protective instincts of her cousins-that knee-jerk need to insist she stay where she was safe-but he throttled them back and asked her why-well, ordered her. But he would let her explain, and he’d listen in that way of his, focused completely on her…and waiting with relentless patience.

But would he understand? “I…” She searched for the right words and tried again. “This is my home, the mountain is”- part of who I am-“my shelter. All the years I’ve lived here, that’s where I went when I was upset or mad or…” Lonely. “But now the thought of being up there is terrifying.” She showed him the way her fingers trembled. “I need to go back, to know that I can, that it’s still my place. Now-at night. And before I think about it too much.”

A long moment passed before he gave her a faint smile. “I’m not sure I understand, but I was raised on a ranch. Getting back on the horse that threw you is a cowboy law. But I’m going with you.”

“No, you are not,” Wyatt told him and then abandoned the door to loom over Kallie. “And you’re going nowhere, cuz.”

She ignored him. “Jake. You don’t need to-”

He stroked a hand over her hair, slow and comforting. “Of course I do. Now deal with your family.”

Family. Just the word sent a thrill through her heart and gave her strength enough to face them. God, she loved them-Wyatt with all his bluster, Morgan with his silence, Virgil with his strength-and they loved her. She knew that now.

“I need to do this, guys,” she said firmly and held up a hand to silence Wyatt. “You can’t stop me.”

Virgil raised one eyebrow, and a crease appeared in one cheek.

Morgan shoved Wyatt over to glare at Jake. “Maybe, but we can keep you from going with him.”

She rolled her eyes. “Morgan, did I stop you from dating that blonde bimbo with the brains of a gnat?”

He reddened.

“Wyatt, do I interfere in your life when you bring women back here? Even when you have two at a time?”

“That’s different. I’m-”

“I’m a woman. And have been for a long time.” She smiled sweetly at each cousin in turn. “Everyone’s equal in this house, remember? What I got, you got-and vice versa. I don’t interfere in your love life; you don’t get to interfere in mine. I don’t tell you how to dress; you don’t complain about my clothes.”

The deepening scowls made her step back. Her determination wavered. What if they decided they didn’t love her, if they wanted-

“Jesus fucking Christ, don’t look at us like that.” Virgil gripped her shoulders and gave her a shake. “Yell at us and throw things, bring home every lowlife in Bear Flat, wear bikinis all day long, just don’t ever, ever look at us like you doubt how we feel about you.”

Oh. Okay.

Wyatt looked shaken for a moment and then crossed his arms. “Yeah, well, I might love you, but I don’t know about you bringing home a lowlife.”

“I love you, Wyatt,” Kallie said, watched his face go soft, and then she slapped him upside the head. “And I’ll bring home who I want.”

The moon had risen, three days past full, and lent additional light as they moved up the mountain. Their flashlights glimmered on dark tree trunks that seemed to press far too close to the trail. As every injury from yesterday ached, Kallie felt a twang of guilt that Jake had taken her pack to carry. Every time he shifted it, she remembered the club hitting his shoulder. Then again, her hip really, really hurt, and she’d probably have dumped the damn thing on the side of trail by now.

Seemed like he always showed up when she needed help, even when she didn’t know she did. She carefully avoided thinking about anything other than having his friendship. They could be good friends. Really.

And she had something she needed to do. She stopped and turned to look at him. “Thank you for yesterday. Not just for saving my life”-she grinned at him-“although I really do appreciate that, but afterward too. To know why I was sent away…and that they loved me…it helps. I owe you.”

“I think we’re even. Seems like a little sub called me names and forced me to see things in a new light.”

She winced. She’d called him a pussy, hadn’t she? “You’re not mad?”

His lips quirked. “We need to work on your confrontational skills a tad. But I needed to hear it. Thank you.”

Relief lifted her spirits. He didn’t hate her for her blunt words. See? Friends. Unfortunately, as they continued up the trail, her comfortable feeling fell prey to her memories of violence. Screaming. Death.

By the time the turnoff appeared, she’d started to cringe at the tiniest rustle in the brush. Although her brain recognized the sound of a mouse out for a night snack, the rest of her panicked. Soon the memory of the monster’s roar overwhelmed the sound of Jake’s limping footsteps behind her.

Her knees shook from more than exhaustion as she stopped at her rocks. They lay in an ugly mess, no longer spelling out her name. Maybe she should consider it a sign she didn’t belong here. Shoulders slumping, she started to step over them. Jake made a noise, low in his throat, and she stopped.

As she stared down, moonlight colored the rocks with silver. She inhaled slowly. The murderer had scratched out her name, not her cousins. Not her family. She did belong here. Setting her jaw, she crouched and put the stones back into their places until her name shown clearly again. KALINDA.

My place.

Jake smiled, and the warmth from his understanding pushed a little of the chill away. His unspoken protest had made her stop and think. But he hadn’t interfered after that. She’d made her own remedy, and he’d stood by in silent support. As he did now.

With that reassurance, she was able to turn and move down the tiny path toward the creek.

A little while later, she stood in the small clearing. Aside from trampled grass, no sign remained of the violence. And yet she kept seeing the murderer stalk out of the trees. When she turned, she saw Virgil helpless on the ground. She heard the thud of a club impacting flesh. A dog’s yelp.

A warm hand closed on her shoulder, and she shuddered. Jake set the pack down and pulled her close. She laid her cheek on his broad chest and heard only the slow beat of his heart. The solid feel of him let her breathe again. Almost as if he shared from his own vast stores, courage flowed into her, strengthening her resolve. I can do this. No asshole monster would take this place from her.

She pulled back and stood on her own two feet. When Jake tilted his head, she nodded firmly. “I can do this.”

“I have no doubt. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.”

The conviction in his voice stunned her. Strong? She bit her lip, captured her self-image again. Damn right, I’m strong. “I need to be alone.”

Silence. His face tightened as he obviously warred with his need to shelter her. His protectiveness made her feel so safe and, oddly enough, helped her stand on her own feet. A contradiction, that-like how giving away love could increase it.

He caressed her cheek with gentle fingers, then walked back up the path, leaving her in the empty clearing, alone with her memories.

“My place,” she whispered to the memory of the murderer. “I belong here. You don’t.”

When the murderer appeared again, she crossed her arms over her chest, then shrank his body to the size of a field mouse, gave him a tail and ears, and watched him scamper away. “Your balls were only mouse-sized too, you cowardly asshole,” she muttered when he returned, cudgel held high. She turned him into a mouse over and over. Then she took the sounds of her screams, of yelps, of his roar and lowered the volume until the noise of violence disappeared under the happy tumbling of the creek.

She stepped back from the horrifying sight of Virgil, helpless on the ground, and with jaw set, she substituted his laugh and groan when she’d told him that joke. Virgil’s laugh could lighten any sadness, and a second later, she grinned. If he gave her any trouble before his ribs healed, she could start telling jokes.

Finally she came to the terror of Jake fighting the monster. She let fear drip like water from her fingers to the stubbly grass, and pulled Jake’s protectiveness around her like a warm blanket.

She walked her clearing slowly, changing pain into pride. She’d done well. Her family was alive; Jake was alive. No more women would be killed.

Time passed. The moon rose until it floated high in the sky, outshining the stars. The creek’s happy gurgling made her smile once again, and the pines blessed her with a motherly shushing sound. Distant barks came from coyotes running in the moonlight. And she knew the rustling in the underbrush meant a tiny shrew, not a monster.

She was shaking again…but whole. And her sanctuary belonged to her. She opened her arms, wishing for a way to embrace a place, to somehow return the comfort it had given her over the years. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Turning, she realized she was still alone despite the passage of time. Had he gone back down the trail? Had he left her-as she’d asked? The sense of abandonment stabbed through her, and then she shook her head and laughed. Not Jake, Mr. Overprotective himself. The certainty stabilized the ground under her feet as if she’d moved from a rolling boat onto solid land. “Jake? Where are you?”

“Here.” His voice came from up the slope. A minute or two later, he appeared, walking down the tiny path. He must have gone back up the trail to leave her alone but stayed close enough to return if she needed him. Balancing her requests against his own needs.

“Thank you,” she said as he walked up to her.

The moonlight showed how his gaze took her in, studying her face, her hands, her shoulders. He smiled slowly. “You look better.”

“I am.”

“As long as we’re here, I want to talk to you without your cousins hovering over you.”

She took a step back. Friends. Nothing more. She started to shake her head.

“Can’t you trust me enough for that?”

A memory of the first time he’d asked for her trust stole into her mind: “Can you trust me in here, surrounded by other people, to restrain you, spank you, and give you pleasure?” Her cheeks heated, and from the way his eyebrow raised, he knew exactly what she’d thought. She straightened her shoulders. “Only to talk. I’m not going to start anything up again with you.”

“Clear enough.” He pulled a bottle of water from the side pocket of the backpack. “Drink, sprite.”

The thought of never hearing his nickname for her again hurt. She took a couple of sips and handed the bottle back, watching him drink, the sight of his strong throat as he swallowed disconcertingly sexy. He unstrapped the sleeping bag from the bottom of the pack and flipped it open.

“Sit.”

She dropped down and crossed her legs. Jake followed, and as she turned to look at him, she realized he’d positioned himself so the moonlight illuminated their faces. He not only wanted to talk but also see her reactions.

Why in the world had she agreed to stay? It would only hurt more. Already she felt her strength failing. I can’t do this again: needing him, wanting him, losing him. No no no. “I changed my mind. I’m going to go back down now.” She pushed up to her knees, then started to stand.

“No, you’re not. Not unless you use your safe word.” He grasped her wrist and gave her a level stare.

“Damn you, this isn’t some game. I don’t want to stay here.” She tugged, and yet she couldn’t…couldn’t use her safe word and bring an end to everything.

He cupped her chin, keeping her from moving. “Look at me, Kallie.”

Tears filled her eyes without warning, and his face softened. “Oh, sugar, don’t do that. You’ll break my heart.” He stroked his thumb over the curve of her jaw.

“Why do you keep doing this?” She met his eyes. “I still…” She smothered the rest-still love you-and took a gulp of air. “I know you don’t want anything serious. But I can’t do this anymore.”

“I’m damned sorry for the hurt I caused you, sprite. I was an idiot-and the coward you called me. When you said you loved me, it scared me spitless.” His grim eyes trapped her gaze. “I just couldn’t be responsible for another woman’s happiness.”

“I know,” she whispered. It didn’t help.

He brushed a wisp of hair from her face. “You see…I’d not only screwed up and had been so careless of Mimi that she had no hope, but somehow I hadn’t realized she wanted to die. I’m a dom. To know I could miss that-I couldn’t risk taking another submissive.”

She curled her fingers around his strong hand. So strong, yet he’d been hurt so badly that her heart ached for him. His protectiveness was one of the things she loved about him-here was the reverse side. “You know you didn’t miss anything, don’t you? She didn’t commit suicide. Andrew killed her.”

“I know. Now.” His face turned to stone, and rage flashed, turning his eyes to ice. “I shouldn’t have killed him so quickly.” He inhaled and exhaled in a long, controlled breath, and his gaze softened as he looked at her. “I’m sorry; I don’t mean to scare you.”

Maybe it shouldn’t have, but his anger made her feel safe. He was a warrior like Virgil, and the world held too few of them. She raised her chin. “You don’t frighten me, Hunt.”

He snorted a laugh. “You think I’d know that by now.” He rubbed his knuckles gently against her cheek and paused, his eyes on hers. “Kallie, even before I learned how Mimi died, I was already on my way to your house. For you.”

The ground underneath her seemed to tilt. No. I don’t want this. She’d needed his love so badly before, but not anymore. Too risky. Too much pain. “No.”

“Oh yes. You were right; I ran…and I hurt you. I’m sorry, sprite.” He looked so unhappy that he’d caused her pain; her heart broke for him. “Can you forgive me for being such a coward?”

He hadn’t wanted to hurt her-she didn’t want to hurt him now. “Of course I forgive you,” she said before thinking it through.

Lifting her hand, he kissed her palm, his lips soft, his breath warm against her skin. “Thank you.”

“Right. Well.”

He didn’t release her hand but used it to pull her closer. “Now the past is out of the way, we can move on…” After brushing his lips over hers, he deepened the kiss.

She could have kissed him all night, but eventually his words registered, and she slapped her palm on his wide chest and pushed him back. “Wait. Move on? To what?”

His lips quirked. “To the fact that I love you,” he said, his rumbling voice only a murmur but very certain. When her mouth dropped open, he smiled and took her face between his hands, holding her gaze with his as he repeated, “I love you, Kalinda Masterson.”

Hellfire, he never did anything halfway, did he? Love? The sweeping wonder died under the onslaught of fear. She couldn’t risk this, couldn’t stand to lose someone again. Her lip quivered, and he ran his thumb over it soothingly.

“No. I don’t want you.” She kept her hand on his chest to push him away, felt the contoured muscles, the warm skin, and wanted to stroke instead. The crisp hair scattered over his chest-she’d ruffled it once. A long, long time ago. Her breath hitched with the desire to touch, to be held.

The moonlight glimmered across his face, his hard cheekbones, shadowing the line between his brows, showing the way his eyes narrowed. “Little liar. Yes, you do.”

Shoving his hands away, she shook her head no, yet wanted to bury her face against him and cry.

Jake watched Kallie, realizing more fully how much damage he’d done when he’d pushed her away. He’d reinforced her belief that no one cared for her. Her admission that she loved him had been a gift he didn’t deserve. In fact, if she hadn’t been half-asleep, he’d never have heard the words from her.

For now, he gave her time. Reaching out, he stroked her hair as she wrestled with her old fears of abandonment and believing no one wanted her. She had good reason for her anxiety. The world came with no guarantees. And he couldn’t promise her they’d always be together. But if she risked her heart with him, every day of their life, he would show her exactly how very much he loved her.

And no matter how much she protested, she wanted to be loved so badly that it made his chest ache.

She was stuck, he realized, unable to move forward, unwilling to retreat back into her lonely space. If she’d been a different submissive-one with other problems-he might have mounted her on his cock and pressed for an answer…but she needed to come to him with both her mind and heart. “Kallie, do you love me?”

The straightforward question did it-because she couldn’t deny what they both knew. Her eyes closed, and the answer came reluctantly. “Y-yes.”

The laugh almost choked him, and her eyes popped open. “Sweetheart, you sound as if you’re admitting to kicking puppies, not telling a man you love him.”

She blinked, frowned, and then took a deep breath. “You’re right.” As he had done, she set a hand on each side of his face and stared into his eyes. “I love you, Jake Hunt.”

And there it was. A future. Hope. Love. Joy fountained through him, lifting him from the depths where he’d lived for so long, to the heights to come. Hell of a ride.

She shivered, as if she’d opened a door, letting the air into her house, a clean, fresh, scary scent.

He pulled her into his lap and whispered, “Thank you, sprite.”

As he held her and stroked her back, she realized she’d been trembling. With a sigh, she relaxed. For a while they simply sat, enjoying the closeness, the sounds of the forest and creek. Eventually he stirred. “The air has cooled-let’s get into the bag.”

She stilled. Spend the night? Before she could formulate a protest, he’d pushed her to her feet and stood up. He unzipped the bag. “Hop in.”

After toeing off her boots, she bent to get in and squeaked when he gripped the neck of her shirt and pulled her upright. “I want you naked now.”

She stared up at him, at his utter self-confidence and the power radiating from him, and she swallowed. “Yes, Jake.”

He touched her face with his fingertip. “My sprite,” and the sheer satisfaction in his voice stopped her breath.

Then he stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. Excitement shot through her, and her fingers fumbled as she pulled off her clothes. The night air had chilled, and goose bumps rose on her skin; her nipples turned to tiny puckered buds. The air against her groin felt cool where she’d already grown wet. As she drew off the last sock, she stumbled. He caught her, setting her on her feet, then ran a hand over her breasts. As if he had the right.

She tried to take a step back, but he tangled his fingers in her hair, holding her in place, and deliberately palmed a breast. “My body, Kallie.” Something had changed in his manner, the way he looked at her. No longer controlling, but possessive too, as if to say, I am your dom.

And she was his sub. The thought sent a thrill across her skin, and she answered without thinking, “Yes. Yes, Sir.”

His lips curved in pleasure-pleasure she’d given him. He released her and patted her butt. “Get in the bag.”

The inside of the bag felt like smooth ice against her skin. It would warm up quickly, but brrr.

By the time she’d squirmed her way in, he’d removed his clothing. The firelight flickered along his body to highlight the curves of his pectorals, dance over the ridges of his abdomen, and shadow his groin, and she wanted to touch him everywhere. He sheathed himself in a condom, then slid into the bag beside her. After bunching his shirt up to serve as a pillow, he rolled onto his side.

Shivering, she inched closer; his big body gave off heat like a roaring furnace.

“Little ice cube,” he muttered and pulled her closer-a generous act if she’d ever seen one. As their legs tangled together, he ran his hands over her hips, pressing slightly, watching her face. “Any pain?”

She hissed when his fingers found the bruise from the club, and another spot on her shoulder.

“I remember the place on your back. Is that all the bad ones?”

She nodded.

“Good.” He firmly pushed her legs apart, opening her, and an intense surge of desire made her moan. His smile was hard, satisfied as he stroked her folds, finding her wet, already slick for him.

Suddenly a surge of anxiety hit her, and she grabbed his wrist, wanting-needing-to stall. Yes, she’d admitted she loved him, but now to have him inside her, surrounding her… That seemed too intense, as if it would leave all her heart and emotions vulnerable to him. If he left her…

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak or try to reassure her. He just waited, his steady gaze on hers. A minute passed, and her fears seeped away. People loved her. No one had abandoned her. And Jake would never deliberately hurt her. He loved her, and she could trust him with…everything. She sighed and smiled at him. “Mini panic attack. You made me take off my big-girl panties.”

He laughed and kissed her, so slow and sweet that it brought tears to her eyes. Lord help her, she’d turned into a damned faucet. “I love you, sprite,” he whispered in his rumbling voice.

“I know,” she whispered back and got another laugh. She released his wrist and grinned. “Where were we?”

Slowly, he slid his hand down over her mound and flattened it against her pussy. “I believe I was here.”

She shivered as her body sprang back to life. When he ran a finger up through her wetness, she sucked in a breath and then grinned at him. “No ropes. No cuffs. Are you sure you know how to do this without all that?”

He smiled slowly. “I thought I’d taught you that bondage can be more than just physical. Perhaps another lesson is indicated.”

And she remembered the rocks by the creek. Uh-oh.

He considered for a moment, then said, “Put your hands behind your head-lace your fingers.”

Her heart gave a jump. At the implacable look in his eyes, her body seemed to melt right down into the sleeping bag. The knowledge that he would insist she obey, would accept nothing less, somehow took her fears away. As if he stood between her and the world. She laced her fingers together.

He studied her. “Will having your arm in that position hurt your shoulder?”

Only a mild ache. “It’s okay.”

He gave a nod of approval. “Very good.” Smiling, he grasped her hair and tilted her face toward him, supporting himself on that elbow. He kissed her, deeply, thoroughly, as if asserting his possession, kissed her until her toes curled and her skin sizzled as if she’d been sunning all day.

After licking a finger, he ran it in a circle around one nipple, then the other. Desire surged through her, increasing with every repetition. She looked up at him and realized his gaze was focused on her face, not her breasts-watching her responses. From the way the corners of his eyes crinkled, from the way he claimed a kiss, she’d pleased him.

When he leaned back, cold air drifted in from the open sleeping bag, contracting her nipples to hard, jutting buds. His lips captured one, his mouth as hot as a furnace. He lifted his head, and air wafted across the wet nipple. He tongued the other. Hot. Cold. One, then the other. Her breasts swelled to aching tightness, and when he sucked strongly, her back arched as an electric current ran straight down to her pussy.

Her clit throbbed, slow and heavy. She needed more. His cock touched her thigh, the heat compelling. She raised her leg to press against it. “Stop teasing me and get-”

He pinched one nipple, and the edgy sting made her insides clench. “I will tease you”-he pinched the other breast-“anytime I want, little sub.” His teeth closed on a nipple, holding it to the point of pain while his tongue flickered over the very peak. Her arms tensed; she wanted to touch, was afraid to move.

He slid a hand down her stomach, right to where she throbbed, and touched her with light strokes that only intensified her need. “Your clit is pushed out and swollen,” he whispered in her ear. “Slick and aching for my hand.”

She moaned and grabbed his shoulder, blinking up at him when he growled in disapproval. He removed his hand from her pussy and lifted his eyebrows at her.

Everything down there throbbed, and she whimpered, “Please.”

No answer.

She unclenched her fingers from his shoulder and forced herself to put her hands back under her head. Looking up at him, she managed not to beg.

His cheek creased, tempting her to touch. “Very good. Now open your legs wider.”

She slid her thighs outward, and his hand flattened on her pussy, increasing the fire.

“There we go,” he murmured. “Bound, whether by my will or my rope, open to me in all ways.”

She shivered, unable to take her eyes from his face.

“This is how things will be between us, sprite,” he said, his gaze level. “At least in the bedroom. Is this what you want?” His finger circled her clit until the pulsing encompassed her entire pussy.

“Yes. No.” She shook her head, trembling with the need to move. Her own submission increased her arousal to fever pitch. Think, Kallie. His touch slowed… “Not all the time, right? You won’t try to make me…”

He paused. “No, Kalinda. I don’t want a slave-except in the bedroom.” His smile flashed, and he teased the edge of her clit, the flicking touches igniting sparks everywhere. “In the bedroom, however, you will submit. Willingly. Respectfully. Giving me everything that is in you.”

His eyes held hers as he released her hair, as he moved on top of her. His cock, thick and hard, slid into her wetness, stretching her. The feeling of being held in place as he pushed deep inside her-her face and feelings exposed, her most private areas available to whatever he wanted-shook her. Melted her.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, Jake.”

“Good.” He kissed her again, so tenderly she sighed. As he drew back, he smiled down at her, and his pleased expression wakened a spark of defiance. Had it all his own way, hadn’t he?

He shouldn’t have life so easy. With a sudden wrestling move Morgan had taught her years before, she reversed positions, rolling him onto his back, clamping her thighs around his hips, not letting him leave her.

“I think sometimes I should get to be on top,” she announced and started up a forceful rhythm. His rough laugh made her heart melt. The way he looked when he laughed…

To her surprise, he let her work, setting her own pace, and everything inside her tightened as her climax approached at the speed of light. Every movement pushed her clit against his groin, and she increased the speed. Almost…almost…

He brushed his fingers up from her thighs, avoiding the bruise on her left hip. His gaze swept over her face.

And then those hard hands grasped her hips in an implacable hold and pushed her bottom upward until only the tip of his cock teased her opening. “On top,” he murmured, letting her dip far enough for the thick head to enter her and leave. “But not in charge.”

So close. How could he do this to her? “You bastard,” she hissed.

His rough laugh broke through the quiet. “Try again. Sir…or Jake. Master works too, especially when you really want something.”

She really wanted his cock moving again. “Master. Please.”

He grinned and slammed her hips down, driving into her, sending shock waves through her. Lifted her slowly, yanked her down again, and the waves of excitement built with each thrust, piling higher onto each other until her brain turned off completely and every sense focused on the next stretching impalement.

Her clit engorged, growing excruciatingly sensitive, yet the pressure expanded from the inside this time, pushing past any control. Suddenly the tsunami broke, exploding outward in wave after wave of pleasure, soaring higher as she tried to buck and he held her firmly in place. Unrelenting, he forced another orgasm out of her before taking his own release in forceful, pulsing thrusts.

Her head spun as he pulled her down to lie over him, limp except for little explosions that continued to spasm inside her. She laid her cheek on his damp skin and tried to figure out where all the air had gone. She could hear the strong, even beat of his heart.

Under her ear, his voice rumbled through his chest. “You brighten my life, Kalinda. I love you.”

As if his words had echoed into the sky, the golden rays of the sun glimmered over the distant white-capped mountains. Sunrise. As it lightened his face, she lifted up enough to stare down at him, at the hard cheekbones, the strong jaw. Someone she could lean on, yet who valued what she had to offer. Someone she could fight with-and who she’d have to keep from stepping in front of her. Someone who loved her.

And God, she loved him. “I lo-” She choked on the words and then remembered she didn’t have to hold them back. “I love you.”

His eyes crinkled, and he caressed her cheek, holding her gaze with his. “I love you, Kallie Masterson,” he murmured. “And I’ll be telling you often so there’re no misunderstandings.”

Would there ever come a time when his words didn’t send a surge of joy through her? She lifted her hand to trace his confident face, the mouth that curved under her fingers. “Are you really sure?”

“Completely.” He rolled them over, putting her under him. His weight on her felt right, and she ran her hands up his biceps. He kissed her slowly. “And we’ll be getting married before the year is out.”

“Married?” She blinked and frowned, trying to ignore the thrill of happiness. “Aren’t you supposed to ask me?”

“All right,” he said with a deceptively agreeable smile. He ran a finger over her damp lower lip. “Do you want the wedding this month or next month?”

He sounded far too smug. She bit his finger-hard.

“Dammit,” he swore, his complacent attitude disappearing like morning fog.

She giggled-and then he flipped her onto her stomach, and brought his hand down.

Major mistake. Ow, ow, ow!

First he spanked her.

Then he kept her on the edge of orgasm until her cries echoed through the mountain valleys.

Then he took her so hard she might never walk again.

An hour later, he smiled down at her and repeated the question. “So. Do you want the wedding this month or next month?”

When her head stopped spinning and she could breathe again, she managed to answer. “This month. Master. Sir. Oh captain of the universe.” Oh honestly, just listen to her-what a wimp. She frowned at him. “You know, your new carving is going to have a really little penis.”

His deep laugh rang through the clearing, and then his gaze focused on her, the heat almost perceptible. “So disrespectful,” he murmured. “Looks like we’ll have to do it all again until you get it right.”

Hellfire. Her bottom still hurt. She glared at him, and then closed her eyes as various threats ran through her mind. I’m going to glue brass balls onto your carving…and give it to you for Christmas…in public.

Jake cupped her cheek and had to smile. Tough and soft and sweet. My sub. My love…my problem. He could almost hear Kallie’s thoughts racing, and considering the expression on her face, whatever she was planning involved him-and not in a good way. He narrowed his eyes and studied her suspiciously.

A minute later, she looked up and saw his face. Her husky laugh rang out through the clearing, as open and happy as he’d never heard it before. “I love you, Jake Hunt, and you know what? You love me back.”

Damn straight.