Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1454209-Held--Chapter-Nine
Rated: GC · Chapter · Romance/Love · #1454209
Cinderella? Not likely. However perception is everything.A D/s relationship unfolds
"Held ~ Chapter Eight

Held ~ Chapter Nine

Tossing his jacket and tie over the banister, Ean strolled through the house in search of his girl. He was early. Kara wouldn't be expecting him for at least an hour. Rosie raised a finger to her lips as he checked the pool and pointed to Nick wrapped in a towel and asleep in a lounger. Ean smiled at the sleeping child and stepped back out silently. He had grown fond of the boy in the two months he and his mother had been with him.

Stepping out onto the back patio, he squinted into the sun, eyes scanning the stables and corral. He smiled, remembering how her eyes had lit seeing the stables. They had been empty then, but since he had purchased her a beautiful chestnut filly for her twenty-fifth birthday and was looking at a pony for Nick and a good mount for himself. A wicked grin twisted his lips as the word "mount" conjured naughty images in his mind just in time to see her picking her way down out of the hills.

His girl had a good seat, handling the spirited filly like an extension of herself. Ean couldn't help envy the animal. He knew the moment she spotted him, as she urged Nova into a canter. Reaching the lawn, she slowed November Rain to a trot sending her prancing across the soft turf, ears perked, tail lifted sassily. Kara's cheeks were flushed, emerald eyes sparkling as she reined in before him. They were quite the pair. Sliding from the saddle, she approached him in greeting with those beautiful eyes respectfully lowered.

Kara tried not to squirm as silence hung heavy between them. Was he in the mood to play? Uncertainty clenched her stomach in a cold dread knot. Was he angry? She searched her mind for any infraction, finding none. A little shiver stole through her as he slowly started to roll his sleeves. Warmth spread between her thighs as she watched his strong, long fingered hands remembering many an hour spent at their mercy. Her master's sexual appetite was voracious and sometimes vicious. The term sensual sadist had been a new one to her, however the past two months had shown her how fine the line between pleasure and pain truly was.

His baby bit back a moan as he slid his hand between her thighs, cupping her mound possessively. A superior smirk twisted his lips as his thumb ground the seam of her jeans against her swollen pussy lips making her hips thrust forward helplessly. Catching her chin in his other hand, he tilted her face up to his and slowly removed the one from between her thighs. Bringing it up between them, he rubbed his damp fingers together, testing their scent smugly.

"Should I be jealous?" The husky tone to his voice made her knees weak.

Kara weakly shook her head to the negative, her mouth opening and closing without a sound. Ean raised a brow and she shut her mouth with an audible click. Anticipation and apprehension warred within her as the silence lengthened once again. Nova shattered the moment, butting her impatiently.

"Perhaps someone should get to the stables," Ean suggested. The chill in his voice made the hair at Kara's nape stand up. Her bottom lip quivered, her voice coming in a whisper.

"Yes, master."

Kara's gaze flitted nervously to the tack room as she groomed Nova. Ean had walked her to the stall before leaving her with a hard swat and instructions to see to her mount quickly. Currying the filly's gleaming copper coat she strained her ears for any indication of Ean's intentions. Knowing better then to keep him waiting, she finished up and leaving Nova a handful of oats, headed for the tack room with her tools.

Ean flexed the heavy riding crop in his hands, enjoying the way all color left his little one's face. She stood frozen in the doorway, her trembling apparent even at a distance. The curry brush tried to drop from her nervous fingers and she fumbled franticly for a moment, trapping it against her thigh.

"Put your tools away properly, Kara. You know how I feel about organization."

Kara hastily placed things in the proper bins, her mind drawn to the implements hanging in pristine order in the library's armoire, as Ean had undoubtedly intended. Her head snapped up at his next words.

"Take your clothes off."

Ean curbed the smile that tried to twist his lips as she stared up at him imploringly. It pleased him immensely that even as those beautiful eyes pleaded, her hands busied removing her jacket. He kept his face stony and her eyes dropped. Already well versed in what dawdling brought, she made short work of her clothing, draping it over the workbench piece by piece until she stood shivering and bare before him.

Seating himself on a solid stool, Ean patted his thigh in a firm order. Kara immediately bent over his lap, her slender hands wrapping in the stool's spindles with white knuckled intensity.

Kara forced her body to stillness as Ean's big hand came to rest on her pale ass. His hand felt like a brand to her chilled skin, she knew soon her ass would be neither pale nor cool. The sinewy strength of his thighs and the now familiar position caused a flutter of expectation in her belly as she waited. His hand left her and she fought not to tense, her breath held.

The initial blow caught her dead center, pinkening both cheeks with the print of his hand. Ean heard her breath release as the second found her left cheek and the third her right. Easily he alternated the placement and severity of the blows, warming her up to take the type of punishment he craved deliver this day.

Her ass was hot and throbbing. His hand now replaced with a wide wooden brush, the blows came hard, no recovery time allowed before the next landed. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks and moisture collected between her thighs. Caught off guard, she gasped as he stood, yanking her upright with a fist in her hair. Biting her lip sharply, she held back the cry as stinging tears rolled. The riding crop back in his hand, Ean slapped a saddle authoritatively. His intent clear, Kara bent over the wide saddle stand, raising to her tiptoes to present properly for him and gripping the stirrup on the other side.

Ean squatted before her, raising her teary face to his with a fist in her blond locks. Her eyes widened as the riding crop flashed before her fearful gaze.

"Open," he whispered, touching the shaft to her lips.

Her mouth opened and he pressed the leather wrapped fiberglass between her teeth. Tracing her lips with a feathery light touch, he placed a gentle kiss on her freckled nose.
"Don't drop it, Darling," be breathed softly and stepped away.

Kara cried out as a wide leather strap seared the back of her thighs. She caught the crop with a frantic lunging snap of her teeth as it came perilously to dropping. Before she could catch her breath the strap licked at her tender flesh again. A keening moan sounded deep in her throat, her breath coming is sharp snorts through her nose. She arched on her toes anticipating the kiss of the leather, her body responding shamelessly to his power and her own helplessness.

Ean swung the strap easily, watching his girl's reaction. Feminine moisture coated the insides of her thighs, running down the saddle. Lust and pride surged through his veins as she held her place, even arching into the lash in her bid to please him. The intensity of her mewling cries and the hard throb of his cock urged him on and he stepped up the pace, swinging with devastating accuracy. His shirt clung sweat dampened to his skin, his breath growing harsh with exertion and desire. She was fucking beautiful, her muted screams echoing off the stable walls with the loud smack of leather on skin. Slapping the strap across her wet pussy he growled,


Kara screamed as her well-conditioned body exploded in release at his command. Wave after wave of excruciating pleasure rolled through her until she hung limp over the saddle. A whimper tore at her throat as her head was yanked back by a savage fist full of hair. The head of his cock rubbed along her soaking folds and she shuddered, holding her breath, wondering. He had made his view of a woman's honor clear and yet still she clung to the hope that she was different. His vow held and he pulled back to drive into her ass, determined to thwart the siren trap. Kara's cry of pain was more emotional then physical as he took her ass forcefully, driving into her in search of his own pleasure.

Ean straightened his pants and stepped around her shuddering form. Squatting in front of her, he was extremely pleased to see the riding crop still dangling precariously from trembling lips. At his touch to the short whip she whimpered in distress, clamping down on it as her eyes flew open.

"It is ok, my darling. Let go," he whispered, wiping tears from her exquisite face.

"You are such a good girl," he whispered against her ear. "You make your Master so proud of you, baby. You were perfect."

Standing, he hung the crop on its peg then slowly pulled Kara from her slack perch over the saddle, wrapping her in his arms. Settling on a storage trunk he cradled her to his chest and rocked her softly. Ean's long fingers threaded through Kara's hair, moving in a tender dance against her scalp. Dipping his head, he let his lips graze her temple. His sharp gaze moved over her face, searching her features for any sign of distress. The tears gone, only contentment shone there now. Exhilaration thrummed through him. Her determination to please even his darker desires was humbling.

Ean slipped through the twilight, Kara wrapped securely in his arms. Reaching the back door of the guesthouse, he balanced her in one arm, keying in the alarm's master code. Inside, he unerringly found the master suite in the dim light. Laying Kara on the bed with soft reassurances, he strode into the bathroom. Pleased to see the staff kept the place in pristine condition, he started the water in the large sunken tub and rummaged through the bath bubbles to find a pleasant neutral scent. Adding a bit, he tested the water and turned on the jets.

Stripping off his clothing, Ean lit a couple candles and stepped back to the bedroom. Scooping Kara up, he carried her to the bath and stepped in. Settling her in his lap, he sighed as the hot water and jets eased away the day's tensions. They sat thus for the longest time. The water warmed her, easing the trembles that had wracked her slender body. Stroking her hair, he watched her facial expression in the mirrored surround. He kept his voice soft, brushing his lips over her ear with murmurs of praise and pleasure as he helped ease her down off her endorphin high, or return from subspace as the BDSM community commonly titled it.

When she started to yawn against his chest, Ean smiled and stood with her in his arms. Toweling her limp form was a challenge, but one Ean was up to. Carrying her to the bedroom, he stripped back the sheets and slipped into bed. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she snuggled to him, and she was dead to the world.

A low growl drug Kara from her dreams. Blinking heavy lidded eyes, she looked around the unfamiliar surroundings in confusion. The low rumble broke the silence again as she looked up to meet Ean's cerulean gaze. Seeing her sleepy bewilderment, he started to chuckle.

"Alas my love, master or not, I am still a mortal man who requires nourishment to sustain me," he teased.

She blushed but laughed at the sparkle in his eyes. Her blush deepened as she glanced around again, the worry returning to her gaze.

"Where are we?" she whispered.

"The guest house, baby. You needed a little...care... before we went back to the house," he said, searching for the right word.

A shy smile spread across Kara's face as memories flooded back. Stretching her petite frame she took mental inventory. The slow burn of welted skin was there to remind her of their play, but she was amazed once again at his skill. She knew from experience most of the welts would be gone by morning. A few finger bruises marring her pale skin were par for the course with their vigorous love making, and yet the deep muscle bruises that had left her limping and sore for a week after one of Bobby's amorous attacks never surfaced with even Ean's more intense play. It had not taken long at Ean's hands to better understand Rae Rae's submissive desires. The relationship between Rae and Vincent had been a source of puzzlement for years, but no more. The Goth girl had long told her shy friend the "need" was there in most women. Kara had never believed her, until she met Ean.

A wistful smile flitted across Kara's features. Slipping a finger under her chin, Ean tilted her face up to his. The questioning quirk of his eyebrow brought a blush to her cheeks again but she knew his question.

"So much of Rae makes sense now. It is strange as close as we are that it took me this long to really understand her."

"You just needed the right one to show you the way, little girl," Ean said, caressing the swell of her bottom lip before kissing her. The growl of his stomach broke the silence and the seriousness of the mood. Laughing, they both rolled from the bed to find their clothes.

Leaning in the doorway, Ean watched mother and son roughhouse in a nest of down comforter and pillows. Breathless and beaming as she fought off a pillow attack, Kara was beautiful. The peals of childish glee brought a pensive smile to Ean's lips as he tried to recall any such moment with either of his parents. Reflexes honed by twenty years in the service, caught the pillow before it hit him. Kara and Nick froze as he stared at the mischievous five year-old. The boy's hazel eyes sparkled but a slight tremor to his bottom lip showed his trepidation at Ean's silence.

"Come play with us, Ean," he offered softly.

The returning pillow caught Nick full in his freckled face, but that was the least of his worries as Ean pounced on the bed and began to tickle him mercilessly. At Nick's squealing, giggling pleas for help, Kara brought her pillow to bear on Ean's broad back. The grin on Ean's face when he turned his attention to her, made Kara scramble to get away. She was not fast enough. A moment later she was flat on her back with twenty tickling fingers tormenting her, Nick joining in the fun. Nick's bony little fingers were more likely to produce bruises then giggles, however Ean had a gift. Writhing, helpless in his clutches, Kara laughed until tears rolled down her face.

A beautiful shamrock signature made for me by the extraordinary Adriana Noir!

© Copyright 2008 Mara ♣ McBain (irish_hussy69 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1454209-Held--Chapter-Nine