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"So far you haven't told me anything I don't already know." He met the challenge with a cocky tone and a direct stare that had her lips curving, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Mistress," he added.
She shook her head at him. This time when she spoke, there was no humor or challenge, just a serious look. "Take the week to think this through, Quinn. From every angle. You can say no. All the way up to the moment you can't."
Leaning close, she brushed her lips over his, grazed him with a fang. Her blue eyes were preternaturally vivid, all vampire. "But whatever you or I decide on the third mark," she breathed, "I will take your beautiful, tight virgin ass next Sunday. I won't be denied that."
Christ.
Chapter Ten
It was the longest week of his life. Thanks to the experience of his horse and his ranch hands, he'd kept himself from too many stupid mistakes, but if he'd been thrown on his head, he could have laid the blame square at Selene's feet. Except that was where he wanted to be, on his knees, tasting the creamy skin of her thighs, sliding his tongue over her wet pussy, pleasuring her until she gushed against his lips.
Not jerking off and waking up every hour to make sure he didn't get himself caught up in a wet dream, trying to honor her demands, kept him jumpy. But she'd been right about the second mark letting him do fine with less sleep. She'd said it got even better with the third mark. He'd be able to run the ranch, visit her at the bar, serve her needs and feel refreshed with only several hours of sleep. Pretty fucking amazing.
On Sunday, Quinn leaned against the back porch railing, tension running through his body like a live wire. When he shifted, the muscles of his ass clenched, the slick slide between his buttocks reminding him of how well lubed he was, per her instructions. While he was so hot and hard he'd probably go off when she got out of her car, he wasn't sure about having a huge dildo shoved up his ass. But what really had him antsy was her decision about the third mark.
If she'd tuned in to his head at all this week, he was sure he would have sounded like one of those kids on a trip--"Are we there yet? Are we there yet?" But even if she heard it, she'd said nothing in his mind. He missed having her voice there.
She'd finally called him earlier in the evening, just after she'd risen from sleep.
"What time will you be here?" he asked, trying not to sound like it was a demand.
"Just after dark." Her voice held a hint of humor. "Are you anxious for me?"
"Always." That was no damn lie.
"Did you eat lightly today? Shower thoroughly and lube your ass? Stretch it with your fingers all week as I instructed?" Her voice was so soft and gentle when she said the words he could hardly reconcile it with the knowledge she was talking about him prepping for the strap-on.
He cleared his throat. Yeah, he'd shoved his fingers up his ass, imagining they were hers. "I did, Mistress." He'd come to love calling her that. He didn't give a damn what anyone thought about it.
"Very good. Remember, though, that's only the beginning of the preparation."
His cock had swelled and the muscles of his ass tightened at the sensual threat.
Now he waited for her, the silence of the evening broken by the lowing of cattle in the distance and the friendly nickering of horses in the barn. His life had changed so much in a few short weeks, since the night the petite blonde appeared at the After Hours Saloon. His world had been turned upside down in so many ways.
Thinking it was incongruent with being the ultimate alpha male, he'd denied the submissive side of himself that accepted--no, embraced--being completely hers. With the third marking, it would be forever. He realized it wasn't just that he wanted it. No, he craved it. Craved her. He was willing to do things he'd never imagined in order to make that happen.
Selene.
Just the sound of her name in his head, the image of her in his mind, was enough to send his pheromones on a wild ride. He wanted to possess her, yet at the same time he knew that after tonight he might be hers, her servant to command. The anticipation had him riding the razor-thin rail of both lust and some unnamed emotion.
When he heard the crunching sound of tires on gravel, he strode through the house and out the front door, in time to see her car pull into the parking area. Just the sight of her exiting gracefully from her car made the muscles in his stomach tighten in anticipation of what was ahead and his cock throb painfully. Tonight she was dressed in yet another blue dress, this one with tiny sleeves, a deep neckline and a flirty skirt that came down barely past the tops of her thighs. When she stepped into the halo of the outside lights he could see the outline of her body through the flimsy material. Her hips swayed and the pale gold of her hair rippled over her shoulders as she walked toward him.
He walked down the steps to meet her, lifting an eyebrow at the small satchel she carried in one hand.
"Does this mean you're actually planning to stay the entire night?"
A knowing smile flirted at her lips. "At least until the edge of darkness begins to lift."
He brushed his fingertips along her jaw. "We have to figure out how you can stay here during daylight hours. How do other vampires do it?"
"A topic for another time." She lifted the case. "Let's put this in your room. Then I'd like a tour of the barn."
"The barn?" What the hell?
"Yes. If I'm going to be with a rancher, I need to familiarize myself with--things--on the ranch."
"Are you?" he asked. "Going to be with me?"
She turned her cheek into his palm. "Perhaps. If you're very very good."
Asking for more would be a futile exercise. She'd tell him what she wanted him to know when she wanted him to know it. With his hand at the small of her back, he guided her through the house to his bedroom where they deposited her satchel. Then, taking her hand, he led her out the back across the yard to the barn.
As they entered the building, she stopped and drew in a deep breath. "I never knew horseflesh could smell so good."
Quinn laughed. "Some people would say it stinks, but I've been around it all my life. To me it's better than a lot of perfumes." He stopped just inside the entrance. "So. You want the full tour, or are you looking for something specific?"
"I'd love to see each of the horses, but then I need to visit your tack room."
"Tack room, huh? You really have been doing your research."
"There are horses in New York," she said with dignity.
"I've heard tell. Should I ask what you're looking for?"
"I'll know it when I see it."
A provocative statement if ever there was one. What did that have to do with tonight? What the hell was running around in her mind?
He walked her down the broad center aisle, watching her stop to touch the nose of each horse. They came right up to her, even the skittish ones, and rubbed their velvety nostrils against her palm. He hesitated when they came to Midnight's stall. The ebony gelding could be antsy sometimes. Why was he not surprised when the big animal poked his head over the stall door and gave Selene the equivalent of an equine kiss?
"Yours," she said.
"Mine," he affirmed.
"He suits." She rubbed his nose. "Horses are usually skittish around vampires, but the Fae blood draws them to me. Which is nice, because I like big, powerful animals." She gave him a sidelong glance. "Maybe we'll take a nighttime ride sometime."
"Anytime you want."
Nodding, she studied Midnight's intelligent brown eyes. "Not tonight, but I would still like to see your tack room."
He opened the door to the room at the front end of the stalls, a space as big as three stalls together, and ushered her inside. Every bit of tack--all the equipment needed for horses--was kept in disciplined array. Quinn insisted on it. Every man cared for his own and it had to be in tiptop condition. Saddles and bridles filled racks on two walls. On the others were shelves and drawers with a variety of equipment.
Selene wandered from spot to spot, trailing her hands over the supple leather, touching th
e stirrups. When she lifted a hoof pick and examined it with curiosity, Quinn felt his balls shrivel. No way was that going to be part of their fun and games. But she'd said she was going to put him through his paces, see if he had what it took to really be his servant.
She looked at him and grinned.
"You look terrified, cowboy. My goal is not to injure you, but to bring you pleasure." She turned the pick over in her hands. "This looks more like an instrument of torture."
He relaxed. "It's for cleaning horses' hooves."
"Where are the ropes? Oh there they are." She walked over to a section of the wall where various lengths of rope were coiled on pegs.
He waited in silence while she examined each one, measuring its length, letting the ends slide over her palm. At length, she chose two of them and looped them over one of her arms. She poked in some of the drawers, lifting out a variety of bits, selecting one that had leather thongs trailing from each end. "I need to be sure my stallion is properly tacked," she said.
A tumult of emotions swirled through Quinn. He had no idea what she had in mind and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out. Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea.
It didn't really matter, did it? Good idea, bad idea, he was hers, he knew it. He wanted her with a need so furious it consumed every bit of him. Whatever she wanted, if he could survive it, he'd do it.
She held his gaze, telling him she was hearing every thought scrolling through his head. Then she tilted her head, an unspoken command to follow her. When she turned, he did, his gaze captured by the round gleam of her bare shoulder, the coquettish tilt of her head as she verified he was following her back to the house. Which she didn't need to do, since he was already bound to her by two marks, but he liked seeing the delicate profile. Selene was all woman, knowing exactly what subtle gestures got a man's blood boiling.
