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Clearly he does because it barely takes any time for pleasure to surge. Helpless, I feel myself riding the wave higher. My fingers tighten on the table, knuckles going white.
“I’m going to come,” I gasp.
He pulls away. One second I’m right at the edge of the best orgasm I’ve ever had, and the next, I’m empty and throbbing with need. He steps back and wipes his fingers on a rag and puts my pants back on.
I stare, shattered.
“What was what?” I whisper.
He lays the leather down, bending to make sure the lines are even. The scalpel-like blade slices through it and leaves a clean cut behind. He holds it up and I can see he’s pleased with it.
“When I tell you to do something, do you hesitate?” he asks.
He’s so calm. I shake my head quickly. Am I being punished?
His jaw tightens. “No, sir.”
I catch on, sitting up. “No, sir. I’m not supposed to hesitate.”
“That’s correct,” he says, glancing at me. Ice blue eyes flicking over me. “I’m not angry, I’m pleased. You’re a good girl, but you need training.”
I stay quiet because I’m feeling something new and overwhelming. The truth is…I like this dynamic. It feels secure, despite me having no control other than my safewords.
For the first time in years, I feel like a person again. Not just a machine that spits out free labor. And I know the bar is low, but it means a lot to me, what he’s doing this morning.
No one has ever given me their undivided attention before.
The only downside is...God, I want to come so badly. I’d get down on my knees and beg for an orgasm, but I know I won’t get it. He’s laid down a boundary. I’m learning he’s not the sort of man who concedes his ground.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“I know,” he replies. “I’m almost done here for the day. You’ll have breakfast, then spend some time unpacking what I purchased for you upstairs. I’ll meet you at noon.”
My stomach flutters and he notices my flushed cheeks. The corner of his mouth turns up. He’s so sexy, in a gruff, masculine way, and when he smiles, I see his humanity.
Like he wasn’t always thirty-eight, scarred, tattooed, and encircled in walls.
“Why? What happens at noon?” I whisper.
“I’m going to edge you again,” he says.
I can’t bite back the noise of disappointment in my throat.
His eyes flash. “You’ll learn how to behave,” he says, not unkindly. “Tonight, if you are good for the rest of the day, I’ll let you come as many times as you want.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
GERARD
I leave her at the breakfast table later that morning and meet Westin at the truck. I’ve known Westin for two decades, he’s my right hand, and he’s fully aware of everything going on with Keira. We’re as close as brothers—his family is my family.
He puts away his horse and joins me in the truck, reaching for my thermos of hot coffee. Steam rises off the top and he leans back, stretching his legs out. I don’t need him to evaluate the ranch, but I’d like a witness for our visit to Thomas Garrison’s farm.
“Fuck-all cold for September,” he says.
We pull out onto the road and head towards Garrison Ranch. My head is cloudy with what I did to Keira in the blacksmith shop. It’s been a long time since I went down on a woman, but I know what I felt is different.
My cock twitches in my pants. I shift and clear my throat, glancing up to see the faint trail of smoke still rising over the hills.
