Times Table Mastery: New Zealand Edition
Author: Christine R Draper
Date: 2014-12-27 00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: southern alps; camping tour; mount tasman; kaikoura beach; art gallery
Description: Times Table Mastery is a book that teaches the times tables the old fashioned way, with write-cover-check and lots of practice exercises. This book can be used as a sixteen week course. There are no promises of quick, easy or fun methods that will enable the times tables to be learned in a week without any work. Instead, this book consists of a thorough approach that will result in a long lasting mastery of the times tables.
Publisher: achieve2day

Nabbed in New Zealand

by

Christine Edwards

Fanny Press

PO Box 70515

Seattle, WA 98127

For more information go to: www.fannypress.com
edwards.fannypress.com

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Cover design by Sabrina Sun

Nabbed in New Zealand

Copyright © 2014 by Christine Edwards

Parts of this novel previously appeared under the title Valla’s Captor.

ISBN: 978-1-60381-538-3 (Trade Paper)

ISBN: 978-1-60381-539-0 (eBook)

Produced in the United States of America

* * * *

Dedicated to beautiful readers who long for adventure.

This one’s for you.

Special Thanks

I’d like to especially thank Emily H. of Fanny Press for your editing precision and sunny disposition. It’s such a pleasure working with you.

Thank you to Jennifer M. and Catherine T. for assisting me in bringing this book as well as several others to life. It’s an honor to work with you ladies.

Special thanks to the incomparable New Zealand artist Dean Corbett. I hope one day to see your breathtaking artwork in person.

To Sia for her inspirational song “Moon.” With every listen I think of Valla and Judge’s love for one another.

Prologue

***

Recollection

My brain commands my eyes to open, yet I find it incredibly difficult to accomplish this simple task.

Why am I so dizzy?

As I struggle to wake up, my eyes slowly flutter open and I’m completely dumbfounded by the sight before me. Across the large bedroom is a set of French glass doors, but it’s what lies behind them that stuns me into total stillness. White snow falls endlessly, filtering through the early dawn light and blanketing the tall evergreen trees. The small porch beyond the doors is completely covered with a snowdrift that must be a foot high.

What the hell?

I scramble to remember how I got here. Last evening I was camping in the mild weather at Kaikoura Beach, on New Zealand’s South Island. The weather was chilly, but not freezing. So how could it be snowing? How in the hell did I end up in the mountains?

Where am I?

The question begins circling around in my foggy brain. This is so wrong. Something horrible must have occurred … but what?

Alarm bells rapidly fire off within my head as I start to panic … big time. It’s precisely at this moment that I become aware of the fact that I’m propped up by pillows in a big, snuggly, completely foreign bed. Glancing around me, I gasp when I see that my right wrist is tethered by a smooth, braided length of blue rope knotted to one of the log beams on the hulking headboard. I give a desperate tug only to discover that it’s as tight as a fist.

Oh, fuck.

Snippets of the hazy conversation I’d overheard the night before begin to come back to me. Two men talking … thick accents… strong arms lifting me ….

Slight movement from within the heavily shadowed right corner of the fire-lit room instantly commands my rapt attention. My eyes try to focus, straining to make out who could be watching me from the darkness.. He leans forward, and as a narrow stream of light passes across his face, my eyes suddenly collide with those of my captor. Abject terror surges through me like a bull on a rampage.

Oh my God!

Unbridled fear courses through me, so strong that after a few heartbeats my head begins to swim.

It can’t be … It’s him ….

Chapter One

***

Fifteen Hours Earlier

“G’day, miss. Would you like a cuppa?”

“That would be lovely. Oh, and could I please have one of your turkey sandwiches along with my tea?”

“One sarnie and a cuppa coming right up for the pretty Yank.” The weathered old proprietor, who can’t be over five feet tall and is clad in a simple tan sweater, smiles kindly at me across the battered, pine counter.

“Should I pay you now?”

“No worries, miss. Mick and Guy come round with their guided groups on a regular basis, and they always foot the bill. They’re both good blokes that way. We’ll see you right. You just have yourself a seat and enjoy the afternoon. Are you having fun on your Tiki Tour then, eh?”

“Oh, yes. In fact it’s far more action-packed than I’d imagined. Your country is just mesmerizing. Truly wondrous, actually.”

He puffs his chest out a bit, obviously proud to be a Kiwi. “Happy to have you here. You Yanks are always a fun, polite lot.”

I smile at his comment before turning to head across the wide, plank floor of the ancient roadside café. Today is day three of my grand Kiwi adventure, and I’m just as excited as the day I arrived. Our camping trip originated in the small city of Wellington on the North Island and over the first two days we made our way south. I’ve worn out the pages in my copy of Fodor’s Guide to New Zealand after reading it constantly before I came here; however, nothing prepares you for the majestic beauty of a country that offers it all: waterfalls, snow-capped mountains, drool-worthy beaches, and the most genuine, interesting people I’ve ever come across in my life. I know that I’m fortunate to be here and I’m looking forward to making the most of each and every stop on our tour.

“I’ll be right over, guys, just a quick trip to the ladies’ room.” I give a pleasant wave to my seated travel companions and head through the door marked ‘Chicks.’ We’re a small group and so far everyone gets along quite well, which is fortunate. I booked this tour not knowing anyone and thankfully I’ve already made a few new friends.

After washing my hands in the deep metal sink, I look up to catch sight of my reflection in the chipped, rectangular mirror. I tilt my head to the right to avoid a crack and catch sight of my wide, greenish-blue eyes. Anticipation of the sights and thrills yet to come gleams in them as I quickly smooth my hands across my long, coal-black hair and dab on a touch of Benefit posie-pink lip gloss.

I’ve only taken one step back into the main dining area when a bell-like voice calls out to me, “Hey Valla, c’mere. Saved you a seat!”

Lana is a saucy, flame-haired diving instructor from Oregon. She takes a vacation to a new and exciting place each year as her reward for countless hours of hard work. Just like myself, she scrimps and saves at every turn, setting money aside in a special travel account for her dream destinations. She’s informed me that she also waits tables several nights a week for extra income.

We met in Los Angeles while waiting to board our flight only three days ago, but it already feels like we’re kindred souls. I really enjoy hanging out with her because she clearly has the same wild spirit of adventure that has drawn me solo across the world to the incomparable island chain of New Zealand.

Lana is nearly bouncing in her seat. Her big cornflower-blue eyes sparkle as she asks, “So are you psyched to explore Kaikoura Beach later today? I’ve been waiting to get there and I’ve heard that it’s stunning. I don’t care how chilly the water is. If it’s not unbearable I say we go in. What do you think, Valla?”

“Ah, okay,” I say with a laugh. “It’ll probably be close to freezing, but I’ll give it a shot. At least until I begin to go numb.”

Her enthusiasm and positive attitude are inspiring. In fact, being away from the drudgery of the art gallery in Charleston is a relief in itself. I love my job but sometimes I need a break. It can be depressing to realize that the art business is also about money, and often a truly inspired work of superior quality takes a back seat to “what sells.” Taking these trips really helps clear my head, and I remind myself that I made the perfect choice coming here. New Zealand is unparalleled in its wild, majestic beauty and I’ll never tire of hearing the local, wicked-cool accents, the rising and falling intonation. It’s music to my ears. Lana and I often find ourselves giggling while trying in vain to decode the endless Kiwi slang, such as “rattle your dags” (hurry up) and “grab your jumper” (grab your sweater). Also, we think it’s hot that many sentences end in “eh?”

As I sit sipping my “cuppa,” I feel a momentary pang of sadness. I wish I could share the numerous photographs I’ve taken so far with my parents, but that’s not possible. In fact, if it wasn’t for the life insurance payment I received after the plane accident that took them from me seven years ago, I wouldn’t be here. I never could have afforded this trip on what I earn. The money I set aside from each and every paycheck isn’t enough to fund an expensive trip like this, not after daily bills and expenses. I’d move heaven and earth to have them back, of course. They would be so thrilled to hear about New Zealand, a place they often talked about visiting.

I take a bite of my sandwich, piled high with turkey and avocado, and try to tune into the conversation taking place around me. Guy is talking about the local wildlife. Our guides, Guy and Mick, are two good-natured Kiwis in their mid-to-late twenties. Guy is a former rugby player and has all the brawn to back it. He has buzzed, dark brown hair and warm brown eyes. Both he and Mick are noticeably tall, like most young men I’ve run across here. Mick is fairer in complexion, with light hair and sky blue eyes. They both dress for comfort, wearing abused jeans, thick-soled boots, and zip-up fleeces over fitted T-shirts. If it wasn’t for their distinct accents, the casual observer would have no idea that they were the ones running the show. We look like a group of friends on a camping trip. They both seem to know each and every stopping point on our picturesque route as if it were their own backyard. Yes, they are that good.

Lana and I have agreed that we’ve lucked out with our patient, knowledgeable guides. They have effortless answers for even the most obscure tourist questions, such as Lana’s quirky inquiry, “How many poisonous animals live here?”

Mick grins and informs her in his silky-smooth accent, “Only one. A rare spider called a Katipo. But you shouldn’t worry, darlin’. Few New Zealanders have ever seen one. They’re quite reclusive. However, I would think twice before you venture too far out into the ocean, ladies, because the deadly Great Whites might mistake you for a seal meal.”

We exchange a wide-eyed look. “Terrific,” I say. “Lana, let’s be certain to shake out our shoes every morning and skip the ocean swimming.”

“Yeah, agreed.”

Avoiding the water shouldn’t be an issue because the weather has only been hitting a high in the mid-fifties each day. August in New Zealand happens smack in the middle of winter. Back home in South Carolina it’s so oppressively, searingly hot right now that you could fry eggs on the sidewalk. The overwhelming humidity gives me a constant frizz halo that can’t be tamed, no matter how many beauty products I apply. In this part of the world the lower temperatures are perfect for exploring and camping, and it’s an added bonus that every day is a good hair day. Lucky me.

Guy and Mick have basically given us free reign to explore during our seven night excursion, so long as we inform them before we venture off away from the tour group. This is fine by me because the prospect of wandering out into the wilds of a foreign country alone is harrowing, to say the least. Mick and Guy have warned us about the plethora of snakes on this island chain and I most certainly do not want to meet up with any of them. Except when sleeping, I make a conscious effort to keep my tall suede boots on at all times.

Our group of six consists of Phil and Chaz, a fashionable gay couple from Dallas, and a retired Navy Seal in his late forties named Jack who is accompanied by his shy Asian wife, Kano. They hail from the D.C. area, and both Lana and I agree that Kano couldn’t be a day over thirty. Lana and I round out our camping fiesta.

Tonight our plan is to erect our tents on the edge of the scenic coastal town of Kaikoura. The South Island is less densely populated than the North Island and the roads grow notably rougher as we travel deeper within it. The terrain is becoming far more mountainous and rugged. We’re getting closer to both the grand Southern Alps mountain range and the country’s nature reserves.

The distance between towns increases as well. Fortunately for us, the white Land Cruisers have proven to be the perfect vehicles for our rough, cross-country course. We have two SUVs, with Guy and Mick each taking charge of a vehicle. This is fine with everyone—well, except for Navy Seal Jack, who is unsettled by giving up any form of control. Although, after seeing the surreal, rocky terrain, even he comes around and rolls with the plan.

Mick has informed us that we are 115 kilometers, or a bit over seventy miles, away from our campsite, right on track to arrive about two hours before dusk. This will give us ample time to set up camp and take a brief, early evening stroll down to the scenic beach.

Guy rests his tanned arms on the table and leans in to tell Lana, “You might enjoy photographing the cove there. It is very pretty, Lana.”

“Thanks,” she replies shyly before taking a sip of her drink.

I get the impression that Guy would like to give her an up close and personal tour of that cove. These two have been flirting back and forth since they first shook hands at the airport back in Wellington. With his swarthy looks and honed, rugby body, I can see the appeal. She’s rocking a hot body as well and is as cut as any female swimmer I’ve ever seen. Yes, they would make one smoking couple for sure. I hope they get it on soon because the sexual tension is starting to rub off on me, leaving me achy for a stone cold fox of my own to steam up the tent with on these chilly evenings.

The lunch crowd in the little café has already thinned out considerably. We’ve just finished up and are about to head out when the screen door opens wide and someone immense captures my attention. At first I see only a dark, murky shape coming in from the sunshine. He’s so massive that he momentarily blocks out the streaming light with his expansive shoulders.

I’m vaguely aware of Lana seated next to me, chatting away about our next destination. I am oblivious to her as sound and activity dissipate around me. My wide eyes do a rapid head-to-toe scan of this stunning stranger as my lips part slightly in awe. Thank goodness I’m seated about ten feet away from him because I suddenly feel quite faint. As soon as he stops in front of the counter I begin to drink him in.

He is without a doubt a decadent fantasy come to life. The man is easily tall enough to be a college basketball player. His wide back stretches the confines of his navy blue thermal shirt. My eyes meander down farther to take in his faded, naturally distressed jeans with black grease smeared down the sides. I imagine the grease stains are from working on some particularly manly project; he just couldn’t be troubled to find a rag. I sigh inwardly at his lusciousness and continue my leisurely perusal.

His huge, rugged brown boots are scarred and worn. A third of his face is shadowed by a dusty and abused, Mick Dundee style leather outback hat. Who knew that one of those could look so damn fine?

I continue to peer curiously at him over my mug of tea, taking in his profile as he shifts his weight and turns his face into my direct line of view. He’s both beautiful and terrifying. His chiseled, sloped jawline is stubbled with short, dark growth. Sensual, full pink lips and a strong, Roman nose. His dark, chocolate brown hair nearly skims his shirt collar in fluid waves, giving the impression that he hasn’t bothered to cut it in a few months. He’s the epitome of sexiness and, hands down, the most stunning male I have ever come across in my life.

As if sensing my gaze, he turns his attention from the conversation with the café owner to lock his steely, cobalt blue eyes directly onto mine. Lazily they roam my face and hair in blatant male appreciation. Time stands still as his unwavering blue eyes hold mine with ease, ensnaring me in their mysterious depths.

Who is he? He looks like a local. Who else could wear the dust and soil as if it’s an integral part of him?

Caught in his high beams, I’m frozen in place, struggling to breathe in anything other than a shallow pant. We continue to observe each other for a thick moment. A slow, languid smile begins to spread across his lips. Damn, as if he could possibly be any finer? I can feel heat beginning to pulse between my legs from our heady, intense connection.

Contact is instantly broken as Lana touches my forearm. “Are you all right, Valla? You look spooked. Feeling wiped from all the traveling? Jetlag, maybe? Heard that can set in after a few days.”

A bit shaken, I turn to her and reply in a distracted tone, “Sorry, just daydreaming, I guess. Hey, are you ready to check out Kaikoura Beach?”

“I can’t wait. I’ve read about it online but nothing can prepare you for the real deal, right?”

“Yeah.” I grin and look once again over toward Mr. Mysterious, only to find that his powerful back is now facing me as he leans against the counter on his forearms, deep in conversation with the older man.

Lana leans in close to whisper devilishly, “I can think of a hot Kiwi guide that I wouldn’t mind exploring once we reach Kaikoura.” She gives a little head tilt toward Guy.

“He definitely feels the same about you. Why don’t you just make a move?”

“Mmm, I just may have to. Think I may have a shy one.”

What I really want to divulge to her is that my ultimate fantasy would be the powerful stud leaning by the front entrance, but I keep quiet.

Against my ear I hear another hushed, “Oh shit, girlfriend, how could I have missed that fine bad boy by the counter? Oh hell, it’s no wonder you were completely distracted. So I guess that is how they build them in the wilds of New Zealand? I’m so saving up to move here. They have diving programs, right? I just need a work visa, asap!”

At her silliness, I nearly spit my jasmine tea across the wooden table. I whisper, “Yes, I confess, he’s quite fine, but let’s change the subject. He’s going to see us gawking at him like teenagers. Besides, with his looks women must constantly be ogling him.” I pause and take one last look at the vision in front of me before turning reluctantly to Lana. “Anyway, Guy is such a total catch and that accent is foreplay in itself, Lana. The heat between you two is nearly volcanic. I’ve noticed him stealing glances at you in the rearview mirror while he’s driving. It’s a damn good thing the man knows these roads like the back of his hand, that’s all I’m saying.” I finish with a knowing shrug.

This elicits a stifled giggle along with a seductive bat of eyelashes in Guy’s direction. “Mmm, think I can teach him a thing or two ….”

Guy watches her for a long moment before standing and informing us in his thick accent, “All right, ladies and gents, lunch is on Mick and me today, so let’s finish up and head on out. We need to hustle if we want to make it to camp in time for the sunset.”

I stand and quickly thank them both for the delicious lunch before heading toward the door, hoping that he will turn around so that I might once again catch a glance from those magnetic eyes, perhaps up close this time. As I move closer to him, I see that he’s even larger than I initially realized. He is more overwhelming and daunting up close, and I can sense the raw power rolling off him. But he does not turn my way as I push open the screen door, a mere two feet away from him, and step out into the crisp afternoon sunshine.

A shudder runs through me as I ponder whether or not I’ll ever have such a carnal attraction to a man again in my lifetime. And if I did, what dark path wouldn’t I follow him down? With a man like that, ‘vanilla’ would not exist. Period.

Chapter Two

***

Careful What You Wish For

Our campsite is a sprawling, grass-laden meadow. One side lies close to the woods while the other provides an open view of the ocean. We’ve gotten the hang of things by now and have our hunter-green dome tents set up in record time. As we unroll our thick sleeping bags, Lana and I can clearly make out the constant roar and crash of waves.

Lana unzips the window, letting the crisp air into the tent. “Talk about a serene setting.”

I look up from my black Patagonia backpack and say, “Yeah, after putting in so much overtime at work this year I can certainly appreciate evenings like this.”

“Hell yeah. Let’s get a move on. I can’t wait to take some pictures. I bet the light is perfect right about now.”

“Yeah, I’m good to go.”

She snags her black camera bag and I follow her out of the tent. We quickly catch up with Jack and Kano, who are also headed toward the water.

We’ve been cautioned, should we decide to brave the frigid water, to only swim in pairs. The surf can be rough and this area is not patrolled by the surf and life patrol.

Created by past volcanic eruptions, the beach is a large, swooping arc of dark sand, which perfectly frames the turquoise water. With the snowcapped mountains off to the left, the view is a wonder of nature.

I call out over the crash of the surf, “Hey, Jack, I bet you’re the only one here who could swim out two hundred yards and back without freezing like a popsicle.”

Kano nods in agreement, confident of the bad-ass Seal skills her brawny husband still possesses. She is lovely, a four-foot-ten contrast to his well over six-foot frame. Her jet black hair is luscious and falls past her shoulder blades, and her skin is unblemished, ivory perfection. He’s a blond all-American guy who we’ve been told grew up on a twenty-acre ranch in Northern Texas. Although physically polar opposites, they seem to share a mutual understanding and adoration.

He looks amused. “Well, Valla, the last time I took the Seal’s test was seven years ago, but I suppose I could make it, if need be.”

“Oh, I know you could, Jack,” Kano says.

“Hey, I could give it a shot,” Lana pipes in. “Remember, I’m a diving instructor. The pool is my playground, people.”

“Ah, no harm, no foul, Lana,” I say. “I have no doubt you could make the swim, but this water temperature is brutal. It has to be in the forties. I think that you could smoke us all with a full wetsuit on, but Navy Seals are hardcore. They train for hellish conditions.”

“Oh my God, Valla. Look over there!” Distracted, Lana points out to an area on the horizon.

Jack, Kano, and I whip our heads in the direction she is pointing, and at first the water is unbroken. Then, suddenly, a huge, sleek, black whale surfaces a few hundred yards from us and does a side body splash. Its massive tail kicks out as it descends once again.

Readying his Nikon, Jack proclaims in awe, “That was amazing!”

We watch in fascination as it surfaces twice more, the last time with what appears to be a juvenile.

As we walk to the edge of the sea’s white froth, I turn to ask Lana, “Have you ever seen the film, The Piano?”

“Oh right, that movie was set here. Oh God, was that not the most intense love story? I mean, the passion between Holly Hunter’s character and that sexy, savage man left me panting. Yeah, that was so damn sexy.”

I stare out at the crashing waves, keenly wishing for that intensity, as dangerous as it may be. We turn back and head for camp, just as the clear evening sky is starting to streak with hazy purples and oranges.

Our tents, four sturdy structures, encircle the large, ready-to-be-lit bonfire. I pull my camp chair closer to the pit, excited about the coming heat. The temperature has rapidly dropped since sunset.

Guy informs us, “If you haven’t already, you may want to add a jumper or a jacket for dinner. It’s supposed to be colder than a witch’s tit tonight.”

I burst out laughing as Lana coos, her voice breathy, “Ooh, yes, better for snuggling. Hopefully with a hot Kiwi. Oh shit, yes!” She nods in Guy’s direction. She and I have had a ball sharing a tent and laughing together non-stop. I know we’ll stay in touch after returning to the States.

Already starting to shiver, we both heed Guy’s advice and head into our tent to change into jeans and warm sweaters. Even on a camping trip, I like to look nice, so I wiggle into sassy Seven brand jeans and snuggle into a soft cashmere cardigan and matching camisole.

“I love that color of aquamarine,” Lana says. “It’s the same color as your eyes! But will you be warm enough?”

I laugh—she’s right, of course—and cover the ensemble with a black, North Face zip-up fleece. I also add a pair of thick wool socks.

As Lana touches up her lips with the help of a hand-held compact, I whip out my paddle brush and run it through my hair. It falls down to my lower back and requires too much attention, but it’s my one decadent luxury. Several of my friends are into facials and more complicated beauty regimens. Instead, I have a standing appointment every five weeks for a trim and a protein mask. Every girl has their thing, and my long, straight ebony hair just happens to be mine.

We push aside the flap of our tent and step outside into the now shadowed twilight. Lana crosses over to ask Guy, “What’s our dinner duty tonight?”

“Right, then! Mick and I have decided to take you all into town to our favorite local pub—Dingo’s. It’s just a ten minute drive. Good times, eh?”

His smile really is stunning and I can easily see why Lana’s attracted to him. As long as that bare ring finger and open approval of Lana’s sleek everything really is a “go” sign, then she is totally in.

I happily chirp, “I’m always game for new sights.”

We secure the tent flaps and load up into the trucks to take off into the night.

***

The headlights of the two Land Cruisers illuminate the metal roof of the building as we approach our destination. An oblong swinging sign above the front door reads, ‘Dingo’s Pub.’ It looks like the letters have been branded into the wide plank of hanging wood.

We step out into the brusque air with Mick leading the way.

“Can’t pass through this area without a pint or three at old Dingo’s, eh, Guy?” Mick says. With a sly grin toward his buddy, he adds, “Did I fail to mention to you lot that tonight is karaoke as well?”

My eyes fly to Lana’s at the exact second she proclaims, “Awesome!”

Mick continues, “Yep, any newcomers must sing. It’s mandatory. Zero exceptions, and if you’re a shy one, just get enough grog in you and you couldn’t care less.”

Guy nods in agreement. His lips are tight, trying to stifle the laugh that’s threatening to burst out.

Ugh! Fat chance. I could never get intoxicated enough to belt out a pop song in front of my tour group, much less a bar full of strangers. Hell, no. Note to self, find a seat close to a wall … a shadowed corner will suit me just fine. An exhibitionist I am not!

A tug at my fingers drags me from that mortifying thought. “Hey, Valla, let’s think up a fun duet.”

Oh great, here we go ….

“Um, I would, but I’m not great at public speaking, or singing. A pass?” I ask as we approach the building.

She touches my elbow and tosses out, “Oh, you’ll be game after a few pints, Valla. You heard what Mick said: we’ll all end up on that stage at some point.”

Mick gives me a knowing wink as he swings open the hefty wooden door.

Nervousness surges through me at the prospect of taking any sort of stage. Claps and hoots combined with the unmistakable tune of Beyoncé’s “Single Ladies” greets us as we step inside the dark, heaving space. There is an enthusiastic brunette in her fifties up on the stage. Lit by a bright spotlight, her curvy body sways effortlessly as she belts out the pop lyrics.

Lana clasps my hand and dips her chin toward the stage. “See, Valla, look at her. A natural. We’ll be up there before you know it, girlie. Now, where in the hell can I find the dj with that list so I can get us a prime song?” Her eyes cut around the room, wide with excitement. She is obviously far more adventurous than I am.

I begin to panic, feeling like a cornered mouse. Shit. Stall her!

I pull her back a tad. “What’s the rush, Lana? Let’s have dinner and a few drinks, loosen up, then we’ll go down that road, okay?” I nearly plead in desperation.

She shakes her head. “Valla, I’m going to break you out of that shell of yours, my sweet. Okay, I’ll be patient for now, but we are so up there tonight! How often can you say you sang karaoke in an out-of-the-way New Zealand pub? We have to to do it.”

Thankfully I’m given a pass as Mick rejoins our group, still lingering in the entryway. He is grinning big-time as he calls out, “All right, then, we just got lucky. I’ve snagged us a choice table for eight, right by the action.”

We follow behind him, weaving around the bustling young waitresses all sporting five inch shortie shorts and tight black baby tees that read across their backs, ‘Of all the martial arts, karaoke inflicts the most pain!’ Others say, ‘Warning! Excessive drinking may cause karaoke!’ Brilliant. And in this scenario, undoubtedly true.

The party has clearly been in full swing for a while now, because each and every wooden bench-style table is jammed with people, pints of frothy beer, and red plastic baskets filled with every fried food imaginable.

Wait …. Are those fried pickles?

Sawdust covers the rickety floor and I shake it off my boots as I lift my leg to climb into the worn bench. I settle in and look up to check out the long bar when everything stops …. There he is. His vivid blue eyes are watching me. He’s like a hawk avidly studying a chipmunk.

Oh my, how long have his eyes been on me? I instantly flush crimson, relieved that it’s dark in the pub. I take the worn paper menu from our waitress, thankful for the distraction. Is this possibly large enough to hide behind? I wonder, mortified. What are the chances that he could be here? This is just so bizarre. Shit, breathe, Valla.

“Valla, look over there,” Lana whispers in my ear as she tilts her head discreetly toward the bar.

I struggle to push out the words, “Yes, I just saw him.”

“He’s staring hard, lady. Go chat him up!”

I scoff. “What? No way. That man is pure, raw sex for certain, but with his level of ‘drop your panties now’ power he must certainly come with some issues. Therefore, no ma’am!”

I’ve always been naturally apprehensive around fine men, and this gorgeous specimen is no exception. The majority of the hotties I crossed paths with back home were arrogant to the extreme. Total players for sure. There is no way I could ever bring myself to stroll right up to him. Absolutely out of the question.

“God, Valla, your shyness is unparalleled. Well, no worries, because it looks like it won’t be long before he comes to you. Look.” She nods again in his direction and I chance another glance. He’s leaning with his lower back against the bar, one elbow propped behind him on the distressed wood and the other tilting a pint up to his full lips. A massive, tattooed Maori man stands beside him, leaning in close to say something, but his cobalt eyes remain latched onto mine.

Thankfully the waitress returns with our tall beers, and the smoldering connection is broken for the second time. I can breathe again. We take Guy’s advice and go with a selection of sampler plates to share amongst ourselves. As our waitress departs, Lana hops up after her. “You can’t stall all night, Valla. I’m signing us up for a duet. Right now.”

“Wait!” I catch her wrist just as she is about to slip away.

She turns, not caring in the least that my features are frozen in panic. “Nope, too late for a change of heart.”

“No, I wasn’t backing out. I just …. I would like to do my own song.” She’s raises an eyebrow in suspicion. I whisper my choice into her ear before pulling back. “But I want to wait at least an hour before I go up there. I need the liquid courage. Badly.”

She lands me with a victory grin. “You got it,” she says before she prances off toward the young dj sitting in a tiny booth at the end of the stage.

***

The lemony lager is stronger than I’d imagined and I find it hard to believe that after just two of them I’m nearly ready to take the stage … nearly.

A thick Kiwi accent cuts across the speakers. “Thank you, Dean, always good times to hear you belt out Elvis. And now, all the way from Oregon in the western part of America, we invite Lana Cole to join us onstage! Let’s put our hands together for the sexy Yank!” Our entire buzzed table jumps up and claps wildly as the ever-confident Lana sashays to the stage. I’m incredibly curious to hear what song she has chosen.

Stealing a glance at Mr. Mysterious, I see that he is still studying me. He’s removed his outback hat so that I have a full view of his chiseled features and jawline. He is so masculine. Yet it’s those eyes, so very clear in their rich cobalt color, that unnerve me. The gray-blue fitted cotton shirt and black down vest he’s sporting really brings them out. The only other person in the bar remotely close to him in size is his huge, tanned buddy.

The dj’s voice interrupts my thoughts as my eyes cut across the room to Lana. “A hot choice for a beautiful singer. Lana, anyone you’d like to dedicate this song to?”

She smiles and purrs into the mic, “Oh, I’m certain he knows.”

A proud, beaming smile crosses Guy’s handsome, stubbled face as Mick slaps him on the shoulder and says in an exuberant voice, “You lucky bastard! You’re well sorted with that one, eh, mate? It’s a good thing I’m married ’cause I’m still devilish enough to give you a run for your money with the women.”

Guy busts into a rumbling laugh at Mick’s taunts, his heated stare never leaving Lana’s lovely face.

“All right, then, little Lana from Oregon, lay it on us.”

The funky and erotic old school song “Kiss” by Prince begins and she astounds us all with a silky voice fairly dripping with sex. Holy shit! Who knew Lana was such a karaoke goddess? I down the rest of my beer and watch her give a mini-concert, complete with hair tosses and swaying hips. Guy’s eyes sparkle, and with the intense way he’s watching her, I bet the place could catch fire and he would still be sitting right there, hard as a rock for that little minx. Let the vacation games begin ….

As she finishes her mesmerizing performance, we all jump to our feet with whoops of approval. Guy, clearly enthralled, puts both fingers in his mouth and delivers a series of shrill whistles. Lana’s beaming as she exits and makes her way back to us. Guy throws back the last drop of beer in his pint glass then surprises us all by picking her up and twirling her about in a tight circle, to the utter delight of the still howling crowd.

“And now, ladies and gents, hot on her awesome friend’s heels, we have another lovely American named Valla who has come to sing for us all the way from a state called South Carolina. Let’s have a big Kiwi welcome for Valla!”

Oh. My. God. Fuuuuccccck ….

At this moment in time, Mick’s alcohol-related prediction has come true. Thank goodness for the invention of strong beer. Here goes nothing ….

“Step on up, little lady. Good God, do you all agree that these Americans here tonight all look like they stepped right off the pages of Maxim, boys? Wow! Here’s the mic, little Valla, and I’m excited because I haven’t played this terrific song for anyone in quite a while. Now I have to ask, is there any lucky bloke in particular you would like to dedicate this to tonight? If not, I’m sure there will be plenty of them waiting for you when you finish.”

I dip my head and say into the mic, “Let’s just say that he knows exactly who he is … and the feeling is mutual.”

“Woooooh!” the dj and drunken crowd call out. “I suppose we have a little game of clue going on with this song then! Have at it, little gal.”

Fiona Apple’s “Criminal” fills the room. I know the song by heart and the suggestive, coy lyrics seem perfectly fitting for the lust that is mounting in me for this complete stranger. Just as the first sensual words fall from my lips, I land him with a ‘give it to me now, bad boy’ heated stare. He about drops his beer as every muscle in his body goes as tense as a two-by-four.

I let the opening line flow from my lips, letting him know what a bad girl I’ve been, as I watch him innocently through my long lashes. I thought that I would have trouble getting through it but the way he’s watching me, nearly transfixed, makes me feel as if we are the only two people left on the planet. Two people who want each other with a tangible passion.

My confidence is building as I continue on, swinging my hips to and fro. My long hair swishes across my lower back as I croon on about needing to be taught a lesson by a man like him. The submissive suggestion is sinfully blatant.

Even at this distance I can make out the thick ridge of his impressive cock straining against the front of his jeans. Or maybe my imagination is in overdrive …. My heart rate thunders as Fiona’s luscious lyrics pour out of my mouth, sung only for him, my sexy New Zealand mystery man.

As the song comes to an end, all too soon, I vaguely hear the dj call out, “Well, hot damn! If that wasn’t a call-out for each and every one of you to get down and dirty with your significant others tonight, then I don’t know what is. Wow! Valla from South Carolina, what an amazing performance! Thank you, doll!”

I hand him back the mic with a sly smile and return to our table. I avoid eye contact with him as I pass by the now heaving bar. I was happy to strut my stuff up on stage, but that confidence is wavering now with the thought of actually meeting this man.

“There you go, Valla! I knew you had it in you, you sly, little lady.” Lana claps excitedly and whispers, “That fierce Kiwi at the bar over there nearly came in those sexy jeans of his just watching you.”

I can’t help but feel pleased. Truth be told, I was beyond aroused performing for him. I’d like nothing better than to sneak away with him at this very moment. Anywhere dark and private would do just fine. Even an enclosed, shadowy truck would do the trick.

The rest of the group congratulates me. Feeling a bit breathless, I say, “Thanks everyone. I’ll be back in just a sec. Off to the ladies’ room!”

I pass by the bar and am a tad disappointed that he’s nowhere to be seen. His brawny friend is leaning down, chatting with a pretty waitress. Heading through the dimly lit hall, I spot a large figure looming in the shadows by the lone bathroom door. I move closer and make out that it’s him just before he moves. I instinctively step aside, thinking that he might want to pass by. The hallway is only about four feet across. After two quick strides toward me, one long arm reaches right up over my left shoulder and his towering body moves in close, caging me between his powerful frame and the smooth wall.

He studies my face with the detached curiosity of a scientist. A thick moment passes and just as I suck in a shaky breath, he cocks his stunning head and asks me in a husky rumble, “Do you need guidance for being a bad girl, then?”

Oh, hell. That rolling, fabulous accent has me wet inside of a split second. Go for it, damn it. Tell him!

My voice is nearly stuck in my throat but I somehow manage to answer him clearly, even showing a bit of sass. “Yes. Yes I do. Are you the man who’ll be able to give it to me?” My head tilts in question, a blatant look of challenge in my eyes.

Did that really just come out of my mouth?

A confident, devilish smile slowly crosses his well-formed lips. “Absolutely.”

Excitement rushes through my system in a pulsing blast of heat. The only thought bouncing around in my brain is how and when I can be naked and horizontal with this man, who looks just like a warrior from ancient times.

Those eyes are roaming all over my features as if he’s never encountered a female before, as if I’m something incredibly rare. His stare is hungry as everything around us begins to drop away. Slowly, ever so slowly, he moves in closer, head tilted opposite mine. His seductive scent crashes through me, reminding me of myrrh blended with bergamot. My eyes slide closed. This is it. I’m about to have the hottest damn kiss of my entire life ….

Suddenly a high, fluty voice rings loudly down the corridor, “Valla! There you are. Oh. Oh shit!”

I reluctantly lean down to peek under his wide bicep, already positive that it’s Lana. She looks mortified.

“I— I’m sorry Valla.” She trips over her words. “Mick and Guy sent me to round you up. The tab has been settled and we are heading back to camp. Should I stall them?”

I lift my head to meet the vivid eyes of Mr. Mysterious. Shyly I say to him, “Suppose it just wasn’t meant to be. Goodnight.”

Before he can reply, I duck under his bent arm and move swiftly down the hallway. Our chance encounters were just that, chance. A sadness weighs on me from the certainty that I will never see him again.

Chapter Three

***

Bonfire

We have just returned from town and are eager to enjoy the coziness of the bonfire. All eight of us surround the blaze, holding out marshmallow-topped sticks while laughing as they burst into flames. Most of us are still tipsy from the copious amounts of beer we put away back at Dingo’s.

Chaz from Dallas asks, “So, you guys mentioned earlier to look out for certain spiders and sharks. Are there any additional dangers that could be lurking around here?”

I laugh as he glances nervously over each shoulder toward the black shadows of the seaside forest.

Mick answers, doing his best to sound serious. “Well, mate, tomorrow we are headed to the base of Mt. Hutt, which is located in the Southern Alps. Mountain lions are known to live in the forests there, although they generally stay away from people. Well, that is, unless they’re starving.”

His countenance has shifted and he’s not smiling anymore. I realize that he’s not joking.

Chaz is wide-eyed and close to petrified. Maybe Phil was the one who was interested in trekking through the wilds of New Zealand? Chaz is totally South Beach, with his pastel Lacoste shirts and coordinating sweaters. Oh yeah, South Beach wearing Gucci shades and flops while sipping on a fresh Mojito all the way. I can totally see it. Poor Chaz … he is not cut out for this outdoor adventure. He should be booked into a fine suite at The Delano in Miami.

Mick does his best to reassure him. “Hey, we both have rifles in the truck. So no worries, eh, mate?”

“Yeah, I mean, sure,” Chaz replies uneasily.

Lana and I turn simultaneously to each other as I tell her in all seriousness, “No wandering off into the woods alone. We’ll go in pairs or not at all.”

“Totally,” she agrees.

Slowly everyone but Lana, Guy, and myself begin to head to their tents for the evening. The excitement of Dingo’s has left us all relaxed and pleasantly sated.

Mick calls out, “Night, everyone. Sleep well. I know that I’m well knackered with all the grog and singing!”

I am enjoying the cozy blaze of the fire when I notice Lana’s glazed and primed stare directed with blatant passion right into Guy’s eyes.

Maybe I should pack it in tonight and head for the tent.

Guy turns to me a second later. “Hey, Valla, I’m gonna take little Lana here for a bit of a walk down the beach. Are you good here on your own by the fire?”

“Oh, sure,” I say. “You kids have a blast. I’m enjoying just chilling out here and checking out the stars.”

“See ya, Valla.” Lana tosses her stunning red locks over her shoulder and gives me a look that screams, ‘Oh hell yeah! ’Bout to get lucky with a fierce Kiwi.’

I don’t blame her. What girl wouldn’t want to get off on a starry night with a hot New Zealand stud?

I pull the warm blanket around my shoulders. The temperature really has dropped. Thank goodness for the fire throwing off this wonderful, soothing heat. I scoot off the thick log to sit directly on the grass and rest my back against it. I lean my head back and look up. The stars are out in full force. It’s so unbelievably peaceful, with only the sound of crashing waves cutting through the frigid night air.

The heat from the fire is making me feel so very sleepy and content. The alcohol is still in my system and I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open.

I begin to doze off to sleep, thinking, What a perfect vacation.

***

A close, cracking branch has me jerking upright in an instant. My first thought is that I should get up and offer Guy and Lana our tent for the evening. I could easily fall right back asleep out here. I would certainly be safe beside all the tents surrounding the fire.

But before I can push myself up off the ground, a large hand covers my mouth as someone with tremendous power begins to pull me backward into the dense forest. Is this some kind of joke? What the hell! After the initial shock, I jerk and struggle wildly because my oxygen has been completely cut off. No, this is not right. What the fuck is going on? Adrenaline floods my system and I immediately begin kicking and clawing at the huge forearms holding me as if in a steel vice. When that strategy gets me nowhere, I drag my booted heels down into the dirt and grass, trying anything to slow my abductor. I have to scream!

Still writhing like a fiend, I do my best to pry my lips apart and bite at his palm pressed firmly across my mouth. I succeed and sink my teeth down into his flesh. I’m half expecting the metallic tang of blood but he pulls away before I can do any real harm. That brief moment is all I need as I call out in frantic desperation, but we are already a good distance from the camp. Could anyone even hear me? I continue to fight like a cornered fox while shouting out in choppy, horror-laced cries. He drags me even faster until we are engulfed by trees.

I let go and scream for all I’m worth but his hand slams down once again, cutting my cry off along with a significant amount of my hope. My mouth is still open and I try for another bite, but instead he shoves some kind of pills straight into my mouth. I redouble my efforts, kicking out wildly at anything I can connect with. His other massive arm is banded around my midsection. He’s so impossibly strong! I’m lifted high in the air and the fight continues. I scissor my legs up and out, hoping that he might be thrown off kilter and I can scramble away. No such luck.

I’m not throwing in the towel yet, asshole! There is no way I’m swallowing whatever the hell you put on my tongue! The tablets are bitter and there are several of them. I gag twice as they begin to dissolve against my damp tongue. Tears escape my eyes as I jerk back and forth. He is holding me still here in the darkness, obviously waiting until the drugs take effect. I’m sucking in frantic pulls of air through my nostrils. Think, Valla! Do something!

No … oh fuck, no! This can’t possibly be real.

I pry my lips apart again, determined to spit the drugs out. If I swallow, then I’m a goner. His hand is melded so tightly against my lips that there is just no way. I inhale deeply through my nose and in the process swallow. The unbearably bitter, wet mixture slides down my throat and there is nothing I can do to stop it. I gag and try to make myself throw up, but his massive muscles remain taut and immobile.

Shit, shit!

Whatever he gave me begins to take effect. I’m not sure how much time has passed, perhaps a few minutes. It’s so hard to tell in the darkness of night, but I feel like I’m trying to swim underwater as everything begins to slow down and turn foggy. I can see the glow from the bonfire, if I could only make it ….

I must scream again so the others will know I’ve been taken. That’s my only hope!

The hand moves away from my lips and immediately I struggle to eke out another cry for help. Nothing but a muffled plea forms on my sluggish lips. He spins me around by my shoulders and any hope I had of seeing who has me quickly dies. There is only a sliver of moonlight out tonight, not nearly enough to illuminate the nearly black woods. He’s only a contrasting wall of gray against the black night.

I try with all my might to focus, but as I look up, searching for his face, all I can see in the shroud of darkness is an immense, hooded shadow. Fear mingles with the drugs as, without a word, I’m pulled up and over his thick shoulder. That’s all I remember.

***

I’ve no clue how much time has passed, but the rise and fall of furious male voices, coupled with streams of light that seem to be coming from flashlights have me struggling to come around. The words seem far away, as if emerging from the other end of a long tunnel, but I try hard to concentrate.

“No fucking way, mate. Don’t piss around with me, Tane. Bloody hell, what in the fuck are you doing here with her?”

The foreign voice sounds raw and angry.

“Aw, come on, Judge. You’ll both suss it out when she wakes up. I know it’s not the best situation but she’ll be right soon enough, mate. You know you’re hot for the fine Yank. Both of you were randy as fuck, staring at each other back at Dingo’s. ’Bout booked you in at a hotel, for fuck’s sake! Just go on and take her up to your place and you’ll both have a laugh about it later, guaranteed.”

“Fucking hell, Tane! You’re mad as meat axe, mate.”

What’s going on? I know I’ve heard that voice before and the reference to the bar …. It’s that guy and his friend. It must be!

Through the narrow slits of my eyelids, I see wavering hands coming at me through the streams of light and I try to shrink back but my limbs are uncoordinated and useless. I’m still heavily drugged and trying hard to hold onto consciousness. I feel myself slide forward and vaguely note that I’m wrapped in something. Blankets? My head feels like it’s full of concrete.

“Shit, man, what the fuck’s wrong with her? Why is she way crook? Did you give her something?”

“No worries, just a handful of Ambien. She’ll be straight as an arrow in a few hours, all right? Here, let me help you move her over to your ride. She’s light as a feather but can get a bit feisty.”

The cold air hits my face as I’m lifted high up into strong arms. More than anything I want to focus, but my vision is a muddled mess consisting of only light and dark murky figures. The dizziness has me feeling like I’m on a carnival tilt-o-whirl. The smell of leather engulfs me as my right side rests against something soft and pliant. The male voices begin to sound more distant and, against my best intentions, sleep sucks me under once again.

Chapter Four

***

Demanding Captive

My eyes are locked with those of my captor. He’s seated casually in an enormous, faded brown leather club chair and he’s every bit as massive and intense as I recall from Dingo’s. I swallow convulsively from the swell of fear that is steadily mounting. Those familiar dark blue eyes, shimmering like sapphires, watch me intently. Pretty, yet ice hard. His external coolness sends a wave of dread right through me.

There’s a fire burning low in the rock fireplace behind his chair. The shadowed light swirling around him makes him appear otherworldly. He moves to lean forward, resting his forearms on his thighs while threading his fingers together in a gesture of restlessness.

I want to scream at him for kidnapping me and bringing me to wherever the hell I am now, but my sense of self-preservation tells me it would be foolish to anger him right off the bat. He could be highly unstable. How the fuck did I overlook this cagey, dangerous aspect of his demeanor? I was so focused on the lust flowing between us that I obviously missed a red flag or two.

The silence is stifling and I wonder if he’s waiting for me to speak. Is he going to untie my arm? The knot that tethers me to the bedpost is the most complex I’ve ever seen. For the tiniest moment I wonder if I’m in a karaoke and lager induced nightmare.

No way, that’s impossible, because this is all too vivid and intense to be merely a horrible dream.

We continue to stare at each other for another minute before I can’t hold back any longer and blurt out, “Where am I?” The words feel thick and strange coming off my dry tongue, but my need to know outweighs the discomfort.

He breathes deeply through his nose and says slowly, “Mount Tasman.”

His voice jolts through me like a live wire; it’s that rich and deep. Dingo’s was too loud to really hear it clearly. He’s most definitely a New Zealand native with that familiar lilting accent. Stop it, Valla. Are you that turned on by your captor’s voice? Undoubtedly … yes.

Shit, this is messed up! There has to be some sort of clear explanation for all this. Perhaps it’s a bet or game of sorts, between him and the massive Maori who most likely captured me. I’m still profoundly attracted to him, despite the fact that I’m tied to his bed and have no idea what I’m doing here. Somehow I’m more intrigued than frightened.

Oddly, he doesn’t even seem pleased that I’m here. In fact, he looks annoyed—if the frown, tense shoulders, and furrowed brow are any indication. Something is really off.

Wait, Mount Tasman? I have a small recollection of that mountain from my map of the country. He must be mistaken. Mount Tasman is on the opposite coast from where I was camping. Maybe he’s lying to me?

Trying my best not to panic—I just don’t know how he would react to me flipping out on him—I go with a factual approach. “Isn’t Mount Tasman in the South Island Alps?”

“It is.”

Again with the annoyingly succinct answers.

At this point I’m dying to ask him and decide to go for it. Anger threads my voice as I ask, “Why in the hell did you kidnap me?”

He’s difficult to read. His gaze is intense and his body is still and smoothly under control. He answers me in that velvet voice. “I didn’t.” The arrogance in his tone pisses me off.

My eyes widen in genuine surprise at his answer. Now I’m worried that he is not only dangerous but also delusional.

Reason with him. Lay out the facts.

I do my best to steady my voice, to sound unaffected. “You have to let me go. I shouldn’t be here.”

A small upper right lip quirk signals his amusement at my demand. “No, Valla, I don’t. You’ll learn soon enough that you’re not the one giving commands here, little girl.”

Oh God! My eyes go wide as a blast of heat ignites deep in my pussy. It has to be his commanding, sexual tone. My brain knows it’s wrong but my body doesn’t give a shit.

In one fluid motion, he unfolds his big frame from the chair and strides right out the bedroom door without a second glance in my direction.

What the hell? Maybe he really is crazy.

Alone in the silent room, my heart starts to pound within my chest. I’m terrified that he has some nefarious plan to rape and/or murder me. Did I make the grave mistake of flirting with the wrong man this evening? Seems likely. My frightened brain begins to pull up the horror films I watched with roommates back in college, like the Nordic thriller Dead Snow and the creepy French horror film High Tension. Damn ... maybe he left to get a big butcher knife?

I have to get a grip! I won’t have a chance in hell of surviving, much less escaping this place, if I’m off my hinges with fear.

I need to find a way to get out of here and fast. Yet a part of me wants to linger—yes, the bad girl part of me—if only to find out if this guy can really deliver on the promise he made back in that dimly lit hallway.

Taking a deep breath to shake off the conflicting emotions, I look around the room. It’s very large and the walls, ceiling, and floor are all the same high quality cognac-colored wood. Normally that amount of wood might appear dated or creepy; however, this gleaming décor is first rate. The ceiling is vaulted at the top, descending in a glide of wood down to the tall windows. The right wall consists of an oversized stone fireplace with a wide, framed historic map hanging above it. Not far from the chair is a large white lambskin rug.

This would be my absolute dream vacation home if I wasn’t currently being held captive by this overbearing, possibly psychotic stranger. I’m really not pleased with his reference to me as “little girl,” although to be honest, the words sent a delicious, undeniable thrill straight through my core.

What is my secret fascination with totally alpha men? I’ve always wished that my past boyfriends would be more assertive and confident, especially in bed. I really hate running all aspects of any relationship, as passive guys take a passenger seat. Especially in the bedroom, ugh! Both of the two serious relationships I’ve had in my thirty years have been as boring and vanilla as they come. Missionary after a bottle of wine was a great night and maybe, just maybe—on a special occasion like New Year’s—I might be surprised with a few minutes of oral. A primal, long dormant part of my sexuality screams out that he is exactly the right man to give it all to me, to control me with his authoritative manner. I just need to be open and accept his lead. But could I do that? Doubtful under these bizarre circumstances.

I’ve secretly harbored fantasies of meeting a true Dominant. But it’s not like you can put that out over a coffee date at Steamer’s without raising eyebrows. In Charleston there aren’t any wild clubs where you can experiment in alternative lifestyle play. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that I would meet up with a potential Dom halfway around the world. Could I just relax and go with it? He can’t hold me hostage forever, right?

Maybe he just kidnapped me for sexual adventures. That would certainly be far safer than being snowed in with a serial killer with a knife fetish. The harrowing thought sends a chill up my neck.

Using my free hand, I stretch and reach out for the tumbler of water beside the bed and drink deeply. It’s so refreshing, and my throat is parched. Maybe from the drugs.

I wiggle about against the pillows to try and get comfortable with one arm tied. A secret thrill ignites as I stare at the rope. Tied to his bed … for his use. His pleasure. How deviously wicked.

At least there is some slack in the rope …. I stare out at the snow and begin to become disoriented. I feel as if I’ve just had one too many glasses of wine …. Oh, fuck no! He did not just drug me again. Did he? Shit!

Damn, how naïve am I? I didn’t even taste it in the water. I tug desperately on the rope, suddenly terrified by the thought of what might be done to me after I drift off. I wrench harder against my restraints and only manage to strain my shoulder. Warm pain shoots through my arm as I struggle on. Sleep is beckoning and against my best efforts I’m unable to resist as I slide under ….

Chapter Five

***

Mountain Man

I awake sprawled on my side amongst his smooth, dark blue sheets. On full alert, I jerk up to a sitting position to find that I’m alone once again. It’s pitch black outside, but the fire is still giving off a healthy glow in the spacious room. I wonder if he came in to tend to it while I was out.

My suspicions are confirmed when I find that I’m no longer bound to the bedpost. I rub my wrist, thankful that there is nothing more than a subtle, but lingering, deep pink mark. I glance at my chest and my brows draw together in confusion. Why am I wearing a white, waffle knit cotton Henley shirt? It absolutely swims on my tiny frame. Pulling the neckline forward, I breathe a sigh of relief to see that my pink bra and panties are still in place. I don’t feel any different. All seems well. For now.

Something rests at the foot of the bed. I come to my knees and crawl forward until I reach the small pile. On top is a folded note written on a piece of elegant ivory stationery. I open it and stare at the words written in bold, black ink. ‘I’m about to make good on my promise. Shower and put this on. –J’

I suck in a shaky breath and read it again, committing his overtly sexual words to memory. He doesn’t want to murder me. He wants to dominate me. But do I want him to?

I do, without the slightest doubt. This is a game, the ultimate one, and I’m eager to play. I can’t help but feel relief that this is what he wants from me instead of something far more sinister.

My heart races in anticipation as I lift up the delicate black lingerie from the towel it was resting on. The pink and black price tag attached reads ‘Bordelle.’ I’ve seen this lingerie online and it is not for the faint of heart. The line is known for its sensual fabrics and kinky designs. It is very exclusive and costly.

The drool-worthy sex kitten piece dangling from my fingertips is made of jet black silk and has a teeny bustier with shimmering silver buckle straps across the top where the bust line should be. I can’t wait to wear it! The body is fitted and sleek with ribbons criss-crossing through the luxurious fabric, which flows down to the waistline. A miniscule, midnight black gossamer thong is attached underneath. I pick up the gray towel off the feather duvet and step out of the high bed, lingerie still in hand.

As I make my way across the room, my feet are silent against the dark gray slate floor. It is surprisingly warm. Could he possibly have radiant heating? What a masculine room ….

What does this guy do for a living? If he can afford a home like this, he must do something important.

I near the windows to watch the snow pummel down in healthy amounts, making the green trees appear white and ghostly. I flatten one palm against the chilled glass. It has to be well below freezing out there. What elevation are we at? I peer out into the darkness, straining to see any other homes or even a single light. There’s nothing, only the endless mountainous forest that resembles a dark mythical painting more than reality.

As I turn and push open the door to my left, soft light coming from the fireplace streams in and I’m able to make out that it’s a bathroom. I feel around for the light and once it’s flipped on I nearly take a step back. Before me is a bathroom the size of another bedroom. Its quality and construction rivals what you would find in an exclusive hotel, only this one is specifically tailored to a man, an incredibly masculine one.

Black granite countertops, gray-blue fluffy towels, a mosaic shower made of smooth stones that resemble the gray ones I fondled on Kaikoura Beach. It even has a massive Jacuzzi tub and a full sitting area with a sleek, black leather and wood chair. It’s stunning.

What in the world am I doing here? Why would a man with his bankroll and looks ever bother to kidnap a woman? There is nothing about him that shouts ‘creepy serial killer,’ so what could be the reason behind all this?

Suddenly I recall that foggy conversation between the two men. Could this be some kind of sex fantasy game that they do for kicks, maybe upping the stakes each time? I’ll go along with it for now but I’m determined to get answers. Soon.

Stripping off the huge shirt that nearly reaches to my knees, I breathe in the musky, intoxicating scent lingering on the fabric. It’s all male and as delicious as I recall from the up close encounter back at Dingo’s. Hell, if Lana hadn’t interrupted us, I just might have come willingly to his home, I was so hot for his touch. That sort of primal attraction and abject need has never happened to me before and I can’t help but find all this intriguing.

My group is most likely scouring the area for me, probably thinking I wandered off and became lost in the woods. I’ve got to find his cell. At the very least, I have to let them know I’m all right, that I’m alive. Soon they’ll be frantic with worry.

I decide I’ll play along with this perplexing man for now, see what he has to offer, but he has to let me go soon. And when he does, I’m definitely going to need far more clothing than his shirt. I wonder where he stashed my clothes.

After neatly folding my bra and panties and laying them near the sink beside the fresh towel and sizzling hot outfit, I turn the lever and step into the cavernous shower. I nearly groan in delight as the perfectly warm water begins to fall from a high, rainforest-style showerhead. I gladly indulge in the Aveda citrus-scented shampoo and body wash.

So, my captor has great taste. How very interesting. And bizarre.

I’ve used the loofah all over my body and am nearly finished when I feel cool air wafting into the steamy room. My skin prickles and I sense that I’m no longer alone.

Oh no! He wouldn’t just enter … would he? I was following the instructions on his note. Did I do something wrong this early on?

I pivot and wipe a small circle of steam off the slick glass enclosure only to gasp and take a frightened step back. He’s leaning arrogantly against the granite counter between the double sinks, and his brawny arms are crossed over his flannel-clad chest. He’s huge, and although I know he wants to play Dom and sub, he’s still as intimidating as a Great White straight off Shark Week.

Covering my breasts and pelvis to the best of my ability, I call out in an annoyed tone, “Well, I suppose that we should be on a first name basis now that you’re so intent on seeing me naked.”

I wait several seconds and receive zero response. Turning the water off in a huff, I sneak an arm out through the levered door to reach for the towel hanging on a nearby hook. Once I have it secured around me, I gather my nerve and take a deep breath before stepping out to face my sexy kidnapper.

Breath whooshes out from my lungs. He’s so beautiful, and equally as large. He’s watching me with the still intensity of a panther about to pounce.

Don’t show fear.

I do my best to gloss over my astonishment. With our bodies this close it’s a difficult task. “Well? I’m waiting.” I tilt my face up to his.

This gets me a whiskey-smooth response. “You sure are a spirited one, aren’t you, petal?”

Petal? What the hell was that? He knows my name, but now he’s calling me something that comes out in his thick accent as “pea-taaal.”

“Not that it really matters in this scenario, big guy, but I am quite spirited. And my name is Valla, not ‘petal.’ I might be game for your play, but I’d appreciate the use of my proper name.”

I gasp as he pushes his massive body away from the sink and takes two quick strides right toward me. I lunge backward, shaking the glass of the shower door behind me. I’m pinned. It must be a built in defense mechanism, because I’m now completely intimidated by this person, despite my earlier arousal.

His hulking frame towers over me and he’s standing so incredibly close that I’m staring at the threads on the breast pocket of his midnight blue flannel shirt. My body begins to tremble involuntarily as I clutch the towel tighter around me. I try my best to be brave, to remain calm, to not reward him with my lust. I’m quickly losing the battle. Perhaps compliance will garner my freedom? I need to tone it down and try my best to not be so damn headstrong.

I watch the slow rise and fall of his wide chest and smell that familiar rich, musky male scent coming off him. God, he is so menacing and his effect on me is so bewildering. Is it even possible to be aroused and nervous at the same time?

Be brave, Valla! Act calm. Breathe, girl.

I tentatively look up to find him peering down at me with those bottomless, cobalt blue eyes.

“Ah, petal, that’s no way to speak to me, now is it? You really wouldn’t ever want to see me brassed off, woman.”

What?

In a deeper voice, he murmurs to me, “You’ll follow me now, girl.”

Why in the world did I show disrespect to my captor? Do I crave the control he has to offer? Maybe I’m unconsciously trying to provoke him into action. I remain quiet. I’m not really certain that I’m ready to let him ‘play’ with me because he seems as lethal as a jungle cat. But, when he picks up the delicate outfit and walks back into the low-lit bedroom, I hesitantly follow his lead, nearly lightheaded with anticipation. He stops near the chair and lowers himself down into it as my eyes flick to the bedroom door.

Should I chance it?

A calm, detached voice cuts through the silence. “Try it and see what happens. You won’t make it two steps out of this room, petal.”

I take a step back and start to tremble. As if I could last for two minutes in the snow with no clothing! I can’t help it; suddenly I’m scared. What if I was wrong about him? What if this is more than some sexual fantasy? “Please, please don’t hurt me,” I nearly beg.

Calmly and quietly he tells me, “I would never hurt you, not unless you earn it, girl. Now drop the towel and kneel on the fur in front of me.”

His deep, dominant tone leaves little room for misunderstanding.

That was not what I expected him to say. As I hesitantly drop the towel to the floor, I can feel the flush of embarrassment creep across my cheeks. I hesitantly cross in front of him and drop down to my knees before this warrior of a man. Although I’m completely naked, I’m more thrilled with the anticipation of his touch than embarrassed. Can this really be happening?

He holds up the dazzling lingerie and unfastens the small safety pin that secures the thin ribbon and tag to the garment, setting it aside on the armrest while saying in a smooth voice, “Put this on for me. Slowly.”

His demanding voice unnerves me, sending waves of pleasure throughout my body. Reaching out, I take the garment and shyly sit on my behind as I maneuver the wispy thong up my legs. My long black hair falls forward and I glance up at him through my lashes. In a thick voice he says in measured words, “Now. The rest of it.”

Ever so slowly, I stand up and slide the silk over my arms, gently pulling the fabric down onto my frame. It is incredibly fitted, but the silk has a slight amount of stretch to it. It’s surprisingly comfortable, but the top part of my breasts are spilling out of the minuscule bust area. The naughty buckle is strapped over the very top of them. I feel wanton, wicked, and undeniably sexy.

“Very, very nice. Fuck, petal, you’re without a doubt the hottest thing these eyes have ever seen,” he says, his voice strangled. “Now kneel down and face the fire for me.”

I do his bidding, the anticipation far outweighing my fear of the unknown. If he wasn’t so off-the-charts gorgeous, would I still behave with such compliance? My head is spinning with nervous lust.

I melt as he reaches out to touch me. Large but gentle fingers begin to run lightly through my long wet hair. I tilt my head back for him. He slowly and methodically works out the snags with tender strokes. I begin to relax as the damp strands lift and fall over and over again against my silk-clad back.

He remains silent behind me, with only the cracking and popping of the wood in the fire to break the silence. Just as I’m starting to get into it, thoroughly enjoying the treatment, he commands, “Stand up. Turn and face me.”

Without hesitation, I scramble to do as he asks. The kinky attire has suddenly made me feel shy and exposed. Why does he have to be so stunning?

My heaving, buckled breasts are at his eye level as he leans in closer. I whimper as his rough, thick index finger trails down from the center of my neck to come to a halt at the base of the silk bustier that just covers my belly button.

I can’t hide my arousal. I begin to pant as the pressure between my legs steadily increases. His eyes wander up to my breasts, pausing before travelling back up to my neck. Certainly he can see my pulse hammering away?

He murmurs low, his thick accent nearly guttural, “Damn, woman, you have the most perfect skin I’ve ever seen in my life.”

The compliment seems odd but genuine, making me smile inwardly. Why on earth should I care? Confusion rolls through me and I silently wonder if he’s pleased with my breasts. They are full for my petite frame, and now they’re pushed up and spilling out of my seductive outfit like an offering.

A hungry look crosses his face as his work-hardened hands possessively cup both my breasts from underneath. He works the delicate cups down from the bodice, baring me to him. His thumbs stroke across my nipples over and over again as he fondles and kneads my breasts. I suppose I have my answer. He likes them just fine.

We both begin to breathe faster as he handles me, and the rasping sounds are audible in the near silence of the bedroom. Am I out of my mind to be allowing this? Soon, very soon, he’s going to see how he’s affecting me. My slick lips are saturating the mesh of the miniscule thong as moisture gathers at my pussy.

I can’t take the embarrassment any longer and plead with him, “Please, oh God, I don’t even know your name, but please, please, you’re driving me wild. Please stop teasing me. We both want this. I’m aching and don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

Without missing a stroke across my nipples his eyes flick up to mine as he states, “You’ll know my name when I’m good and ready to tell you, petal. Now I want you to lie back, face up across my lap, girl.”

I know that within his embrace I’ll lose all restraint. This is really happening. It feels like a sensual, erotic dream come true. Girls like me, with neatly ordered lives, simply don’t end up in situations like this.

“This is your only warning, my sweet. I’m a patient man but I’m also a very firm Dom. I expect you to obey me.”

Shoving trepidation aside, I lean forward and slowly climb into his warm lap. As my hands touch his chest, his thighs, I’m amazed at his unyielding, firm physique. Please let me be able to get through whatever he wants from me. My need to come is reaching desperate levels.

“Very nice, sugar. Now lie back against my arm.”

Trembling, I do as I’m told and lie back against his muscled right forearm. He’s only been gentle so far. What lies ahead? Looking up, I become lost in his vivid blue eyes, set in the most daunting face I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s oval, with strikingly high cheekbones. The hard slash of a jawline is what makes this otherwise angelic face so intimidating.

As I drink him in, I notice that his lashes are full and dark, nearly black. They frame his eyes perfectly, eyes that could easily be considered sensually pretty if they were not so frighteningly stern.

The need to please him is strong. He is stunning and so hot in his forceful demeanor. This is all new to me but I’m eager.

He allows me to drink him in for several moments before his face slowly lowers, descending to mine. I remain immobile as his full bottom lip brushes, feather light, against mine. My body quivers with need. I’m near frenzied with lust. He pulls back slightly but remains close, hovering only two inches above my mouth.

“Wha-what do you want with me?” My voice sounds frustratingly weak, not forceful, which is what I intended. But he’s so all-consuming that I feel nearly helpless in his clutches.

“Shhhhh ….” he whispers as as his lush lips meet mine once again, pressing deeply this time in a claiming kiss. Instantly heat and his uniquely male scent flood my senses as I allow him to deepen the seductive kiss. Like I have a choice?

His tongue moves against mine, parting my mouth open for him in slow, tantalizing sweeps. One arm locks against my bare chest while the other firmly grasps my damp locks, holding me secure, locked in place for his pleasure.

This is so wrong on so many levels, but it’s rapidly becoming the most amazing kiss of my life. The blood rushing in my ears combined with my thundering heart fills my head. This situation is hotter than hell. More ….

My exposed nipples harden into tiny pebbles, aching with need. I can’t help myself as I begin to shift around a bit due to my heightened arousal. Will he notice? A secret part of me wants him to see the evidence of his touch.

Just as I’m falling further, nearly lost in the skilled, luscious kiss, he pulls away. “Face down across my knees, sweet petal.” There is no misinterpreting his meaning.

My eyes flare wide and I begin to struggle against him, suddenly afraid of what he might do to me. Will he spank me? I open my mouth to reason with him but he beats me to it. “No, no, Valla. Arguing will only earn you a more difficult time of it, girl.” He stills, remaining forever vigilant.

I screw my jaw shut, knowing that he’s the type of man who delivers on his promises. A full on Dominant. Never in my life have I been spanked, assuming that’s what he’s about to do to me. What if he really hurts me?

He’s so big and undoubtedly strong. What if he’s some sort of fetish weirdo? I know a lot of women who really enjoy being spanked, so surely I can take it? What if I even develop a taste for it? Heaven help me. I feel as if my libido is in a spin cycle with him at the controls.

Damn, I’m so aroused at this point that it’s nearly impossible to think straight. Seeing no way to get out of it, I hesitantly shift my body, turning over to lie face down across his hot, toned thighs. My breasts are dangling between the wide gap between his legs and I’m so embarrassed that an involuntary full-body flush sweeps across my pale skin.

I wonder if I am positioning myself correctly? Why in the world should I even care? His bizarre yet intriguing actions have me totally off-kilter. A palm touches the back of my head in a silent command to let my head relax and fall forward. My hair pools below me on the slate floor and I do my best to relax my neck.

His thick erection presses rigidly against my left side. I gasp when I feel it jerk once against my ribs. Heat is pouring off him, spurring my arousal on to near delirium. I shiver as one large, rough palm flattens between my shoulder blades. He has me essentially immobile and I’ve never felt so dominated in my life.

“Just to be clear, petal, I am punishing you because of the blatant disrespect you showed me in the bathroom earlier. If this, or anything that I do to you ever becomes unbearable—and it had better be if you have to use this—I want you to say the word ‘black.’ Understood?”

I feel as if I’m on a never-ending rollercoaster with him.

In a hushed tone I reply, “Yes.”

“Say the safe word out loud so I’m sure you know it.”

“Black. It’s black.”

“Very nice, petal.”

The delicate thong is ripped right off my hips in a single, rough yank.

“Oh!” I call out, a slight protest in my voice as I try to push back against his palm and turn around. I catch his eyes. Hard, so flinty and unyielding. His lips are set tight and he shakes his head once, back and forth. The meaning is unmistakable. Under no circumstances am I to question his actions. He is my master. I resume my position and do my best to calm down and relax, bracing for the unknown. Will he bring me pleasure?

He begins to softly rub my ass in slow, deliberate circles. Prepping me, warming me. His sexy frame is pulsing beneath me and I’m struggling to breathe properly as he begins to firmly knead and roughly fondle my rounded ass cheeks. A rough male sound erupts from him, close to a growling purr of sorts, so guttural that the animalistic noise must have been involuntary.

I should be terrified out of my skull, seeing as I’m about to be spanked by a stranger, but it’s exactly the opposite with this man. I whimper lightly from need and bump my butt up just a fraction. I hear his breathing change, becoming harsher now. Just as I begin to wonder if he’s had a change of heart, I jerk forward as a blazing shot of heat slams down against my pert bottom.

“Aghh!” I scream as I nearly wrench out of his hold. My ass stings with hot pain where he struck me.

“I expect you to hold as still as possible, petal,” he says, his voice hoarse and dark.

Immediately the blows recommence. They’re raining down on my bottom in ruthless, measured strokes. Just as I suck in air, another one falls, though thankfully not ever on the exact same spot. Not an inch is spared on his quest to show me who’s in charge. He’s covering me from the top of my ass to my upper thighs, and all I can feel now is an all-consuming burning that’s morphing into something deeper, sexual.

My pussy betrays me as I find myself clenching non-stop with the need for something hot to fill it. The thought of his impressive cock planted so deep inside me nearly has me pleading out loud. How in the world can I even fathom these thoughts right now? It has to be the blood flow that the spanking has brought to my pussy. Yes, that must be it.

At around stroke twenty it all abruptly stops and that daunting hand lies still against my scalding little bottom. As much as I attempt to hold them back, tears prick the corners of my eyes and begin to spill over, prompted by both the pain as well as the humiliation of the act. I try desperately to control the flow because I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me like this. How utterly humiliating to be dripping wet and totally stimulated, all from his hard spanking. My emotions are all over the place.

His daunting erection is throbbing against me, as hard as granite. I lurch out of his grip and fall onto the rug at his feet, panting and confused. What is happening to me? How sick am I to be on the teetering edge of an orgasm from a spanking? Fuck no, this can’t be right.

Sucking in a huge breath through my nose, I ask in a voice that is far stronger than I feel, “I suppose you feel satisfied with yourself right about now?”

The look he gives me shows that he fully expected me to lash out like that; it makes me feel like a petulant child. “Don’t fool yourself, petal, you’re just as turned on as I am by what I just did. My name is Judge, petal, Brocan Judge. Judge is what you will call me until I’m ready for you to refer to me as something else. At that point, my beauty, I assure you that you will be begging me to take you, hard. And you know that I’m capable of giving you the fuck of your life.”

My hand flies up to cover my open mouth. His bold statement has rendered me speechless.

His head inclines toward the bed. “Sleep now, girl, and I will not be pleased with you if you allow that little pussy of yours to come. I’m in control of that now, understood?”

Still incapable of a coherent answer, I stare at him as he stands, unashamed of the huge erection stretching the confines of his well-worn jeans. Another blast of heat lances through me as I think about what lies beneath those pants. Without a backward glance, he stalks out of the bedroom, closing me in again with a click of the tall door.

I allow my arms to go limp and flop back onto the soft fur. I try to forget the pain shooting through my tender ass. Screw him! No man is going to tell me how to behave, to deny me the right to pleasure. It’s my damn body!

I gently push myself up, thinking of my captor. What kind of name was Brocan Judge anyway? Was everything about him hot as sin? And how could I allow myself to feel so submissive when he was touching me, commanding me? It felt oddly natural. The thought sends me into a sexual whirlwind as well as confusing me beyond belief. I should be trying to find a way off this damn mountain, not playing sub for my kidnapper.

After standing and gently removing the beautiful, fitted lingerie, I cross toward the bed. A serving tray rests on the bedside table, holding a plate of fruit and a lukewarm bowl of creamy asparagus soup. He must have brought it in when I was showering. What in the world do I make of my captor, the perplexing man that wants me to call him ‘Judge’?

I hang the delicate garment in the closet and turn toward the tray. Famished, I eat the tepid soup. It’s actually quite good. Sleep is a long time coming for me as my head is filled with conflicting thoughts of both fear and fantasy.

Chapter Six

***

Deep Lake

I’m on a mission this snowy morning. Regardless of the undeniable attraction I have for Judge, I know that I have to escape from here. The situation is only going to escalate. One of us would end up getting hurt, and I have the distinct feeling it would be me. This level of play gets into your psyche, and I can’t afford that right now. I’ve already developed a heightened interest in him and we’ve yet to become intimate.

He’s bound to have a vehicle. He had to get us up here somehow. If I can get him to trust me, I can find a way to steal the keys. A simple, yet hopefully effective plan. With renewed hope and a refreshed outlook from so much sleep, I hop out of bed and push open the closet door. While searching the room last evening, I found that my clothing had been hanging there all along. My aqua sweater and jeans are arranged neatly on wooden hangers and my tall suede and shearling Merrell boots are resting on the floor beneath them.

A tell-tale flush spreads across my cheeks when I see the sexy Bordelle beauty hanging there. I can’t help it, I’m curious. Clothing in hand, I turn and cross to the fur rug. Lying exactly where it was flung is my little thong, now merely a shredded scrap. A shiver of delight goes down my neck as I remember his intensity. His power.

Once I’m dressed, I find a drawer in the bathroom with an unopened toothbrush and a full tube of toothpaste. I brush my teeth, wipe my lips, and place my hands flat on the granite countertop as I stare into the mirror.

“Outsmart him, Valla,” I say to myself. “Don’t let him win.”

My eyes tighten and my lips close in a determined line. I’m going to stand up to him and set this tangled situation straight. I mean, I could give him an out, right? Convince him that I’m not worth a lengthy jail sentence. I’ll tell him that if he agrees to release me, I’ll never tell a soul who was responsible. That’s more than fair.

Turning, I head to the bedroom door. As I crack it open, I hear him say, “Nah, mate. I’ll get her sorted. No worries, eh?”

What the fuck? He had better not be taking about sorting me!

I do not like the sound of that one bit! I push the door fully open and take a step into the vast living space right as he turns to me, cellphone in hand.

He tells the person he’s chatting with, “All right then, good on ya, mate. Ta.” Then he presses the button to disconnect and slips the black phone into the front pocket of his faded jeans.

Damn it, why does he have to look sexy as hell? Over a week’s worth of dark growth covers his manly face and the fitted black tee he’s sporting has my eyes darting all over him, drinking in the toned planes of hard muscle.

My courage from just a moment ago is rapidly fleeing. Before I lose my nerve I ask him in an even, direct tone, “Judge, when are you taking me back?”

He continues to stare at me with a grin on his face. “Well g’day, petal, you’re looking lovely and refreshed. Why don’t you sit down with me here at the bar and enjoy brekkie and a cuppa. I was just having a yack with my best mate.”

I puff out an annoyed breath. “What? Do you really expect me to eat with you after what you did to me last night?”

“You mean the well-deserved ass scalding I gave you, woman?” I gasp as he adds, “Actually, sweet petal, I insist.” He bows and makes a gallant gesture toward the table.

Aghast, I break eye contact and skirt around him, knowing that I’ll eventually be cajoled into eating with him regardless of what he does to me. Instead of answering him, I look around, curiously taking in the rest of the cabin. The space is hyper modern, with wide pieces of jagged gray slate as flooring. A ruby red and black Persian carpet blankets the entire living room area. The room is an open rectangle with glass on two sides, providing a breathtaking view of the rugged snowcapped Alps. They are incredibly vast and majestic. My heart drops because without a vehicle or his allowance, there’s little chance that I’m getting out of here. I don’t even know the distance to the nearest intersection. Crossing the room, I stare out at the surreal view for a long while.

A rich voice cuts through my thoughts. “Trust you slept well, eh, petal?”

Now I’m annoyed. Breakfast, pet names? Is he deranged? With a pad like this he’s most likely some sort of arrogant playboy who is used to getting his way with women. I’m not going to cooperate any further until he explains what is going on.

Turning around, I can’t curb the sassiness in my voice as I ask, “Why do you insist on calling me ‘petal’? Do you give all the women you bring here against their will pet names? Not to mention a selection from your stash of kinky underwear?”

His dark brows draw together. From the expression on his beautiful face you would think I had backhanded him.

I watch, fascinated, as his long arm extends out, pointing a steady index finger at me. “You’ll make up for that one soon, sugar,” he says in an even, level tone. “And as for the pet name, it’s quite simple. You’re skin is as silky as the petal of a rose. I felt it when I placed you in my bed the other night.”

I blink as my heart skips two beats.

That was the second nicest compliment I’ve ever received. He must know how much I liked his answer by the pink flush that tinges my cheeks. I can feel them growing warmer the longer he stares at me.

He continues, “I don’t have to explain myself to you, but on rare occasions I have brought willing dates to my home. In fact, it’s been several years since the last time I invited any female here. And yes, I like submissives to dress for my pleasure. I work hard and have distinctive taste. Bordelle and a few other lingerie designers happen to be spot on. Does that answer your disrespectful question?”

I glance around, eager to neutralize the uncomfortable track this conversation has taken. I walk away from him, deeper into his living room. The space is dominated by two matching black leather sofas so wide and supple-looking that they almost beckon you to nap on them. A square glass-and-burnished-metal coffee table rests between them and the roaring fire to the left of the area is kicking off a healthy amount of heat.

I’m about to have a seat when he speaks softly.

“Come here, Valla. I would like you to eat with me.”

His outstretched hand beckons me to come to him. Hesitantly, I cross back through the room to stand by a tall, dark wood barstool beside a granite island. The kitchen is midnight black granite and the appliances are all stainless steel. Talk about a pimped-out bachelor chalet. What on earth does this man do for a living?

As I pull out a barstool I ask, “Why did you drug me again yesterday? Haven’t you heard of people OD-ing?”

Standing beside the open refrigerator door, he turns to face me and smiles. “Ah, merely a few additional sleeping tablets, my sweet. Harmless but just enough to keep you out of trouble while I had a rest. For your information, I wasn’t the bloke who drugged you the first night.”

The nerve! And what a devilish grin he’s sporting. My eyes tighten in a heated glare. “Well, who was it, then?”

He pointedly ignores the question and places a “cuppa” tea in front of me. I watch him ignite the gas burners before casually whisking eggs.

He bares his perfect white teeth at me as he asks over his shoulder, “You fancy an omelet this morning then, petal?”

Do not fall for his mind games … or magnetic charm! Aren’t kidnap victims supposed to lose their appetites? No, I’m simply lusting after him. That’s all it is and it can—and will—be overcome.

“I suppose an omelet will do.” I cross my arms in defiance as I watch him set a pan on the gas range.

“Spirited,” he chuckles, shaking his head. He adds olives, tomatoes, green onions, and cheese to the pan. The smell is too tempting to ignore.

Minutes later a scrumptious-looking garden omelet, complete with a buttered English muffin, is placed in front of me. I look up through my lashes and say in a huff, “Thanks, Judge. So kind of you to feed me.”

Ignoring my sassy comment, he takes a seat on the stool next to mine, and before he touches his meal, he turns to look at me, leaning forward on a tanned, sculpted forearm. “Listen, petal, I realize that you’ve had a hard time of it these last two days and I feel like now is the time to give you the explanation you deserve.”

My body goes rigid as I wait expectantly.

“See, after catching your eye in old Gentry’s, I met up with my best mate at Dingo’s. He happens to live near the place. He was the person I was with that night. Do you remember my massive Maori mate from the bar?”

“Yes, I’m remember.”

“Well, I told Tane how taken I was with this tourist I saw in Gentry’s. I told him that you were on some kind of camping trip. I saw your loaded cruisers out front.”

I want to ask him where all this is going, but instead I decide to hear him out.

“Tane was quite curious about you, and well, imagine my shock when you of all the women on the planet walked into Dingo’s in Kaikoura. Fucking unreal it was. Tane nearly spit his pint across the bar at the flabbergasted look on my face when you strolled in looking sexier than any supermodel.” His voice drops a few octaves, sounding dark and raspy. “And goddamn, woman, when you sang that seductive song I nearly exploded in my jeans.” The way he says it, he might be sharing a torrid secret between us.

I can’t hide a small smile as I swirl the silver spoon in the white teacup.

“I told Tane after you left so abruptly that I’d give every last fucking dime in my accounts to have you beneath me in my bed. Not long after you left, we sculled our pints and took off, going our separate ways. I drove straight through to get here. I’m on vacation for the week and was looking forward to a little downtime.

“I assumed he was heading home as well, but Tane took it upon himself, being the badass that he is, to drive over to your beachside campground. That’s where he watched your group. When all was clear, he nicked you for me.”

I strangle the napkin resting in my lap. “What?” I choke out to him. “Why would he do that?”

“He owed me a favor.”

With difficulty, I keep my jaw screwed shut as he continues his explanation.

“So anyhow, I’d just drifted off on the sofa when he rang me up late in the night, saying it was an emergency that he needed my help. He asked me to meet him at a small petrol station not far off the mountain. I had no clue what he was on about or what he was doing so close to my house. As I drove down off the mountain to meet him, I worried that he’d gotten in an accident or something. When I arrived, imagine my surprise when he shined his torch into the back of his SUV and I saw you lying there like an angel wrapped up in a load of blankets. I thought that he had gone mad. I mean, Valla, he had driven you across the South Island to deliver you to me. Fuck me, he asked if he had the right girl and I could barely answer him, I was so bloody shocked. I told him that I appreciated the gesture but that there was no way I could take you up to my place—that he needed to get you back to your group. Well, he looked positively gutted. The guy really thinks that he owes me a solid for what I did for him ages ago.”

“But why would he go to such extremes? Kidnapping is a crime, regardless of what soil you’re on in this world. And why didn’t you just take me back yourself?”

“He told me that he just wanted to see me happy and that you were just as hot for me as I was for you. How could I let him down after that? I admit I was fucking bothered when I saw how drugged up you were. I agreed to drive you to my place and get this all sorted out. Partly because I didn’t want you in the back of his truck any longer. I have to admit that I was intrigued. I want you, Valla. And I’ll let you in on a little secret, petal. I’m a determined man.”

By this point my head is reeling. So I was meant as a gift? What sort of crazy people am I dealing with here? Even though a part of me craves the fantasy, the logical part of my brain rebels. Despite what I thought last night, I’m really not certain I’m ready for any of this.

As all the confusion begins to meld into a concrete story, I decide to cut to the chase and give him an easy out. “All right, Judge. Just drive me to the closest hotel or gas station or wherever and let me go. I have to get out of here and I promise you from the bottom of my heart that I won’t tell a soul about you or your friend, Tane, and what he did. You can trust that I’m good on my word.” I level him with an earnest look.

I wait, nearly holding my breath, hoping that he will agree with me. He wasn’t my original kidnapper, after all, and he seems like a together guy for the most part.

But I’m dead wrong. That intimidating stare begins to turn stormy and serious as he leans closer, his left shoulder touching my sweater as he tells me in an unyielding tone, “No, woman, we certainly won’t be doing that. See, while you were knocked out, I had a lot of time to think. I’m not about to give you up until I’m fucking good and ready. Now eat.” He stabs his fork in the direction of my plate as he gets up to pour more tea for both of us.

I stare at his huge back in complete disbelief. No! I have to make him realize how crazy his idea of keeping me really is. I have got to get the hell out of this tangled mess.

Rolling his neck, he seems to be trying to throw off some of his tension. He faces me and braces his wide arms out on the counter before him. Speaking softer now he says, “Tell you what. You finish up your brekkie like a good girl and we’ll head on outside together for some fresh air. We both could use a little distraction from all this, eh?”

“No. You can’t keep me against my will. It’s kidnapping. Not to mention irrational and insane.” I’m not going to give in so easily.

His shoulders and neck tense up as he pins me with a cold, accusatory stare. “I recall that you point blank told me back at Dingo’s that you needed guidance and asked me if I was the man to give it to you. Was I wrong, female?” He pins me with a stern, knowing glare.

Is he off his meds? I sputter, “I was just flirting with you! People do that, you know!” Never mind that. At the time, I had meant every single word. This just wasn’t how I pictured it ….

“You can try to lie to yourself, petal, and I might even believe you if it wasn’t for the erotic way you sang that song to me. You know good and well that if we were the only two people in that bar, then the second the mic left your lips I would have taken you down and fucked the breath out of you right on that fucking stage, woman.”

“You-you would have what?” My eyes are as wide as saucers.

“You heard me, petal, and you would have taken it with complete gratitude as well.”

He waits, watching. This is a challenge and I can’t win. I can’t hide or deny my lust. He already knows. I remain silent because it’s asinine to argue a valid point.

He grunts out in a manly tone, “Thought so. Finish your omelet and let’s get a move on, petal. I need a distraction. I’m doing my best to be a gentleman, but you know how to push my buttons, girl.”

“Ah, I don’t have coat and it seems like it’s freezing out there. You know, with the falling snow and all.”

“I have a coat that you can use.”

Wait a second … maybe I can take off and lose him in the forest or something? Not likely, unless I spy another house, and I doubt he’s dense enough to parade me around outside for his neighbors’ benefit. And it would be easy to get lost in the mountains and freeze to death. Or worse.

Changing my mind, I smoothly reply, “All right, a hike does sound refreshing. Besides, I wouldn’t mind seeing where I’m being held prisoner.”

I smile oh-so-sweetly up at him and his eyes narrow tightly in suspicion.

Chapter Seven

***

A Walk in the Woods

After a filling breakfast—the man can cook—we head down to the lower level of his comfortable home. The cavernous room is a workout enthusiast’s wet dream. High-tech machines fill the area; an elliptical and a treadmill sit alongside a weight bench and three shelves of free weights. So this is how he maintains that make-your-panties-wet physique. He must have a set routine he’s unwilling to break even while on vacation. I admire his tenacity.

There is not a single mirror in sight, but an oversized flat screen TV hangs from a suspended position above the black treadmill. The view from the gym is impressive, as the expansive window faces the same picturesque vision that graces the living room.

How old is this guy, and how can he afford all this? He only appears to be in his mid-thirties, so maybe he’s a trust funder? I’m beginning to wonder if he is a recluse, because there are no signs of humanity in this home: no photos, no ex-girlfriend’s clothing or beauty products, no trinkets. Nada. I wonder where he stashes that gorgeous collection of break-the-bank lingerie? I’ll have to peek around when I have the chance.

A rumbling voice rips me out of my thoughts.

“I could stare at your perfect tits beneath that fitted cardy all day long, petal, but I’d like you to slip this parka on for me now. It’s going to be huge on you but it will do the job against the bitter cold.”

The coat he holds open for me to slip into is marine blue and swallows me, hanging down to my knees. I have to roll the sleeves up three times before my hands are free. The fabric feels unbelievably decadent. The circular patch on the arm reads ‘Moncler.’ Of course. Only the best. He tugs the zipper up from the bottom and I’m immediately engulfed in sumptuous, downy warmth. An identical coat is draped over his arm, except that his is black.

He tilts his head to indicate that I should follow him toward the back exterior door. He stops to open a tall cabinet, pulling out a sheathed hunting knife. I take an involuntary step away from him as he checks the menacing weapon before slipping it back into its leather cover and clipping the holder onto his wide leather belt. Before I can ask what it’s for, he turns and tells me, “Can never be too careful. We are in the wilds, you know.” After that shocker, he lowers into a crouch and opens a dark gray, metal safe that’s mounted into the base of the cabinet. To my distress he reaches in for a matte black handgun, along with a leather shoulder holster.

“What the hell?” I shriek. Seeing the man who’s holding you against your will brandishing not one but two lethal weapons before taking you for “a walk” is not exactly comforting.

“Always a good thing to be prepared, petal.”

What have I gotten into? I remain watchful and nervous. My heart thunders as heinous thoughts enter my mind. Maybe we aren’t going for an innocent walk after all ….

Before we exit, he slides on his parka with fluid ease and punches a long numeric code into the security keypad beside the door. I memorize the first three numbers before he shifts his weight and steps in close, blocking the remaining digits from my view. An alarm system? Weapons? Terrific. Slim chance of me ever getting out of here, unless … somehow I get the rest of that code.

As if sensing my watchful eyes on him, he opens the door without glancing my way. Cold air bombards us as he says, “Don’t even think of trying to escape from me, Valla.”

The fact that he used my proper name must mean that he’s serious. I find his dangerous aura intriguing. I hope he was telling the truth when he said no harm would come to me ... unless it was from his delicious hand.

As we step outside, I have to blink several times before my eyes adjust to the light gleaming off the sparkling snow. It’s everywhere: on the trees, the ground, the path in front of us. The sky is a clear blue, lending a surreal quality to the pristine landscape. I inhale deeply and the brusque cold stings my lungs.

With a boyish grin, Judge looks down at me and clasps my hand, barely visible in the giant sleeve of the awesome parka.

“You up for a little hike with me today, my lovely? There’s a favorite spot of mine I’d really like to show you.”

“Let’s go. I’m game for an adventure. Might as well add to the constant upheaval.”

“Atta girl. Hold tight to me, baby. I wouldn’t want you to slip. Slick as glass out here today.”

Without skipping a beat, I add, “Yes, then you’d have to take me to a hospital, where your naughty little secret would get out.”

That warm, rough hand tightens around the tips of my fingers. “You’re already in trouble for throwing sass, woman. You need to curb that pink tongue of yours.”

“Or?” I huff up at him.

He pulls on my arm, which causes me to fall against him. I turn in his grasp as a delicious thrill goes through me. I lift my face to his. Oh boy, I really need to censor myself. Who knows what this man is capable of ... hopefully a myriad of wicked sexual positions if his smokin’ body and strict demeanor are accurate indicators.

He tilts his head and says in a calm, quiet voice, “There is no ‘or,’ my lovely. What will happen between us is a certainty, not an option. You brought that upon yourself in the bar the other night. I know what you need and the only thing you should be thinking about is when I’ll give it to you.”

My lips part and my breathing becomes shallow as I suck in puffs of frigid air. The thought comes to me, unbidden: soon, I hope it’s really soon. There is a throbbing against the seam of my snug jeans that is undeniable. Only Judge is capable of relieving this fevered ache.

He observes what must be an interesting play of emotions on my face as he says, “Come, let’s get a move on.”

We begin to make our way cautiously down a high, slick, winding road that’s only wide enough for one large vehicle. I keep an eye out for any signs of life, any clue that someone might live nearby. The farther we walk, the less hope I have. This place is the very picture of solitude.

Judge keeps a steadying hand on my upper arm until I get the hang of walking on snow and ice. Once I feel that I am on surer footing, I take in the mountain as I begin to discern the forms that are blanketed with the stuff. Tall trees stand proud in a seemingly endless sea around us.

I glance back over my shoulder at Judge’s house in the distance. The exterior is a sturdy, tri-level home built in a modern style. It has to be custom-made because it looks like a feat of geometry; three floors of rectangles are placed atop each other with allowances for varied overhangs. Very cool. Large multicolored stones make up the base and there’s a set of stone steps that lead up to a minimalist, smoked waterglass front door. There are two chimneys on the high roof with smoke wafting out to mingle with the cold air. An impressive home for an enigmatic man.

I turn forward and ask, “Do people ski or snowboard on this mountain? There’s certainly enough snow here.”

“Nah, not here at least. We’re at nine thousand feet right now and the mountain goes up to eleven. Tasman is popular with climbers during all seasons, though. The skiers and boarders go to the resorts at either Lake Wanaka or Queenstown. We’re definitely out in the wop-wops here.” My brows draw in at the unusual expression. He explains, “You know, the sticks, out in a rural area and all that. We call it wop-wops.”

“Interesting term. So do you enjoy skiing or snowboarding?” We continue down the frozen road and his strong arm holding me tight around the waist. Every few steps my feet slide a bit and I’m thankful for the security of his embrace.

“Used to all the time. Work too bloody much now. I just come up here to clear my head when I’m not on site. How ’bout you?”

“I definitely enjoy shredding up the slopes. I’m strictly a skier, though. My folks would take us out West on vacation every year. One of my favorite places was Breckenridge, Colorado. It was the best. Breathtaking scenery. Actually, not so different from this mountain.”

Judge glances at me sidelong. “I’d like to see you ski sometime.” He briskly rubs my upper right arm while asking thoughtfully, “Are you cold, sugar?”

Blushing slightly at this new term of endearment, I quietly answer, “No, I’m all right. It’s beautiful out here.”

At this point I’m starting to relax a bit and find myself wanting to know more about him. I’m drawn to him in ways I can’t explain. He is by far the most puzzling man I’ve ever crossed paths with.

I look up and ask, “So, out of curiosity, how far back does your family go?”

He continues walking. “My great grandparents on my father’s side came from Inverness, Scotland. My ma’s family is from the Netherlands, like a lot of settlers here. You know that the Maori are the native people of this island, right?”

“Yes, I read a bit about their history and culture before I booked my trip. Never thought in a million years that I would be abducted by one, though!”

“Cute, petal. But seriously, I think by right this entire island chain should still belong exclusively to them. I think they were well shafted, sort of like your American Indians, eh?”

“You have a point.”

I follow his lead as he turns right off the snowy road to head down a tight path winding into the forest. We make our way down the steep, weaving trail in comfortable silence. The only sounds are the calls of birds and the scurrying noises of small animals foraging in the snowy wonderland.

“So, do you ever hunt here, Judge?”

“If I’m at the pad for an extended stay and supplies are low, I may hunt the occasional rabbit or red buck. Really though, it’s not in me to kill animals for sport. Never had much of a taste for it. It’s a different story if I need to eat, though.”

The trail is beginning to take on a treacherous look as the incline increases to a steep descent. He slows our pace and moves me behind him.

“Here, brace yourself on my waist so you don’t slip or pitch forward, all right? Bloody steep and slippery as fuck out here. Don’t want you to fall.”

“Gotcha.”

We slowly crunch our way down the high trail. My hands are tightly gripping his down coat at the sides and the snow is so deep that it’s nearly hitting the top of my shin-high boots. It’s quite a workout, with the effort it takes to make it down the steep incline. We are both breathing hard, as though we’ve just skied down a black diamond slope.

By the time the wide wall of his back suddenly stops I can feel sweat starting to trickle down my neck. His hand drops down to his side to clasp mine as he gently pulls me around to his left.

A small gasp escapes my lips as I stare ahead at the sparking, deep blue lake before us, framed by a large clearing. It’s breathtaking in its solitude and tranquility.

I’m utterly transfixed by the beauty of the lone lake and ask softly, “It amazing. Doesn’t it freeze?”

“Oh it will, and soon. With the temps below freezing at night, this lake will be frozen solid within the next fifteen days. Pretty, eh, petal?”

I turn to face him and tilt my head up. “You’re right. It’s gorgeous.”

He steps behind me and melds his body to my back while encircling my chest with his long arms. We stare out in silence for a long time. I’m curiously comfortable in his embrace.

A large hand reaches out to run slowly through my hair.

He whispers slowly, “So soft. So pretty. The color of blackest midnight. Amazing.” His voice is quiet, almost contemplative, as his gentle fingers work their way through the long strands.

I should be frightened, but in the deepest recesses of my primal mind, heightened arousal begins to uncoil. I turn in his arms, facing him, wanting him to kiss me.

A husky, low voice cuts through the winter air. “Gorgeous indeed, petal. Now give me those fine lips of yours.”

I suck in a breath and lift my chin slightly as his mouth descends to claim mine. Full, warm lips, so dominant and consuming, press firmly against mine. I’m vaguely aware that my hands have reached up to caress the sides of his silky hair. A slick tongue delves into my mouth and entwines with mine. His skill is stunning. He is forceful yet always under control. The need, the passion we have for each other is undeniable.

As the intense make-out session progresses, my breathing is irregular at best and nearly stops altogether as both of his wide palms sneak under my coat to grip my jean-clad ass.

I pull back slightly as I’m lifted straight up into the air.

“Wha—”

“Hush girl. Wrap your legs around me.”

Mmmm ….

I wrap my legs around his waist as he effortlessly holds me suspended. Oh God. I feel his massive erection pulsing against my crotch through the seam of his jeans. He’s so unbelievably sexy ….

“Mmm ... Judge.” I moan in a soft voice. I push my body tighter against his, grinding my hips against his and aching badly. I’ve dreamt about moments like this.

He holds me so tightly against his upper body that we are nearly crushed together as he purrs, “Hell yeah, baby, that’s so fucking it.”

We continue to explore each other’s mouths as time hangs suspended. I’m so hungry for him that I’m nearly mindless with lust. Please don’t let this end, is all I can think as, too soon, he gently sets me back down.

He leans down to whisper in my ear, “I can’t wait to see how wet I’ve made you. Back to the house now, girl.”

Am I really considering allowing this complicated man have his wicked way with me? I must have lost my mind in the wilds of New Zealand because this is sheer madness. It’s also a once in a lifetime, down and dirty opportunity …. My decision is made. I’m going for this.

Chapter Eight

***

Home Again

The air is charged with electricity as we make our way back to his chalet-style home. Our conversation is kept to a minimum; however, the underlying current of passion is thick. By the time we reach the downstairs door my excitement is paramount. I have serious doubts that I will ever again meet someone who can bring my wildness to the surface the way Judge has.

It’s now or never. I know that I’ve made the right decision. The exertion of the hike has us both breathing hard. In silence, he unzips our coats and replaces both weapons in their locked case. Threading his warm fingers though mine, he leads me to the staircase and I obediently follow.

We reach the top of the stairs and enter his spacious living room. He turns and stares down into my eyes. “Come here, Valla. I want to speak with you on the sofa. I want you to sit in my lap like the good girl I know you are.”

Here we go ….

I lower myself into his wide lap. His warmth is comforting and I can’t resist snuggling up against his broad chest. Once I’m settled and as relaxed as I can be under these circumstances, he pushes my hair back away from my neck and leans down to inhale my scent. It’s an incredibly possessive move that leaves my pussy once again clenching with abject need.

Quietly, he explains to me, “Valla, as you are well aware, I’m a Dominant. I am not into freaky shit that inflicts lasting marks or physical and psychological damage. That level of dominance is left for the hardcore Sadists.”

Sadists? My mind whirls with gruesome thoughts of cattle prods and men in scary, full leather masks. My heart rate speeds up in genuine trepidation but I continue to listen intently.

“The dominant nature in me is turned inside out with lust when I give you commands in bed that you, of course, sweetly follow, showing both honesty and respect. And petal, I know that this arouses you, too. I see your obvious reactions to my verbal cues and touch. Do you admit to this?”

I fidget with my fingers for a moment before saying breathlessly, “Yes, you’re right.”

“Good. Then we’re in agreement.” His face brightens and his full lips meld into a sinful smile. “Remember your safe word as we begin to play, all right?”

“I have it.”

Oh God .... I’m nearly panting. Finally ....

His voice deepens to a low baritone as he speaks against my cheek. “Now stand and slowly strip your clothes off for me. We are headed for a session in the hot tub, petal.”

“All right, Judge.”

I stand on shaky legs and reach for the delicate buttons on my sweater as I hear, “No, no, petal. From this moment forward you will address me as ‘Sir’ during any form of play. Understood?”

What?

My eyes widen as he crosses his brawny arms, waiting patiently for my respectful answer. I swallow hard and respond sincerely, “Yes, Sir.”

***

The hot, bubbling water swirls around our nude bodies as we sit in the glorious hot tub, which rests on a front corner of the deck and offers sweeping views of the mountain. When I mentioned that I didn’t have a swimsuit, he laughed, saying that there was, “Definitely no need for togs way up here.” Cute.

Eager anticipation courses hotly through my blood. The attraction between us is natural and animalistic. “There’s simply no way it gets better than this. It’s a dream.” I sweep my hand through the air, indicating our private surroundings. Something flashes in his eyes. Pride, perhaps?

A long arm snakes around my waist and pulls me across the water to him. A healthy amount sloshes over the side and steam pours off the top of the water, rolling over the steep side of the deck. I land with a squeal on his lap. Artists would fight for a chance to paint this body. The golden brown tan seems so natural, as though he has spent his life shirtless. His physique is thick with muscle, toned tight and hard like a prize-fighter’s. I’ve never seen such wide shoulders and a broad chest.

There’s a light dusting of dark hair between his pale brown nipples. It leads in a delicious trail down his hard, rippled stomach and much lower …. Unfortunately he dropped down into the water before I had the opportunity for a full frontal view. Damn. I can’t wait to see what he has going on down below ….

His voice rumbles against my ear, “No, petal, it certainly doesn’t get any better than this. But the view is not the dream. You are, my beauty.”

Sparks ignite within my chest. I want to hit a pause button because I could savor this moment forever.

There is liquid heat between us, like warm body oil. As he positions me sideways on his lap I let out a startled gasp, “Whoa!” His steely erection presses urgently against my ass.

Barking out a laugh he says, “I thought the same thing when I saw you clad in that kinky outfit, your fine form laid out across my lap last night like a sexy offering. Now look up, little one, and give me those sugar sweet lips of yours.”

Yum.

He begins to alternate between light kisses and deep tongue sweeps while his hand moves with confidence across my slick breasts, rubbing intently with light pinches that are interspersed with measured, almost rough fondling. My nipples are hard as granite as he begins a relentless session of harder tweaks and firm tugs on first one and then the other pink nub. I nearly come undone as a helpless little moan of need escapes me.

“That’s right, petal, moan nice and hard for me.”

Damn, that is so unbelievably hot!

I let out a strained cry, “Yes, Sir.”

What a surreal turn on. The way he verbalizes his desires has hit the bull’s-eye, targeting my innermost longing.

I let out a long, low whimper, louder this time as my left tiny bud is rolled harder to the point of mild pain. He holds me captive against him with an unyielding arm banded around my waist. The feeling of helplessness coupled with his dominance gives me the most intense experience I have ever had with a man, bar none.

His rigid cock is pulsing beneath me now and I worry that I’ll never be able to fit him inside of me. The men I’ve been with have all been average or on the large side, yet from the feel of it, this stunner is in the mega category. I reach down and slide my palm against the velvety heat.

He jerks a bit. “Petal ….” A strained warning growl erupts from deep within Judge’s chest but I’m feeling mischievous and continue teasing his fine cock.

The imposing diameter is almost too large to span with my hand, certainly the biggest cock I’ve encountered. For some reason I think of a baseball bat, but that is too extreme, of course. I’m fearful of it, along with all these new, confusing emotions swirling inside me. But I’ve come too far to turn back. I must know what he’s like. I have to have him.

Without warning, he pulls us up out of the water as I throw my arms around his corded neck, suspended by his strong arms as he rapidly takes us the few steps across the snowy deck toward the warmth of the blazing living room fire. I’m placed back down onto my bare feet and stand before him, naked and dripping wet. He turns swiftly to shut the cold out. His body is so perfect that I gasp and nearly lose my balance. I could watch him forever. Turning from the door, he heads toward the fireplace and throws three more logs onto the low fire.

My eyes fly open wide as I stare at his marred back, now fully exposed to me. Fuck, oh fuck!

I gasp before eking out, “Judge!” Deep, horrific slashing scars cover the majority of his upper back. It looks like a Ninja went psycho on him with a Katana blade. Whatever happened to this man must have caused terrible trauma. The pain must have been unimaginable.

What, or who, could have done that to him?

He freezes for a few seconds before rolling his thick shoulders back and turning to face me once again. “I’ll make you a deal, eh? Let’s explore what we’ve begun and I promise to give you all the gory details a bit later, all right then?”

I breathe out hesitantly and nod. “All right, Sir.”

“Now tell me why you’re about to receive a punishment.”

I look down, cheeks blazing, knowing full and well where I messed up. “I— I was rude to you at breakfast. I’m very sorry.”

“You’re very sorry … what?”

“I’m very sorry, Sir.”

The needy throbbing increases to the point that I have to shift onto each leg, trying to relieve the mounting ache that has been near constant since my wicked fireside spanking session.

A masculine chuckle cuts through the air. “You’ll learn soon enough, sugar, that I can give you unimaginable pleasure, but only if you behave for me.”

I watch him leave the room and disappear momentarily into another part of the house that I’ve yet to explore. Not thirty seconds pass before he comes back into full view, breathtakingly naked and holding something glinting and swaying from his index finger … jewelry?

His voice is commanding in its depth. “Sit down on the middle of the sofa.” As I take a few steps toward the twin leather sofas, eyes never leaving his face, he points to one in particular. “Yes, that one, facing the fire.”

I comply immediately.

Slowly he instructs me, “Now offer me both of your breasts. Sincerely, please, petal.”

Cupping the undersides, I lift them up for his use. My eyes are riveted to what I now realize are silver nipple clamps balancing on that calloused finger. There are three delicate chains of varying lengths dangling off each of them. I’m more curious than apprehensive, wondering how they will feel latched onto me.

“Very attractive, petal. Now hold still, girl.”

The clamp is slowly attached first to my left breast before he makes quick work of the already taut right bud. It’s obvious that he’s familiar with them because his placement is spot on. I sink my teeth down into my lower lip, awaiting a rush of pain. After a second, I realize that they are snug but not too unbearable. Yet. What is torturous, however, is the throbbing ache between my legs. It’s like a strong piston of pressure that is working to reach an explosive goal.

“Spread your knees open as wide as they will go.”

I tense up and freeze. He’s never seen me there. I’m nervous about giving him a full frontal view. I’m shy by nature. How can I possibly pull this off?

He moves with startling speed, those big hands prying my legs wide open in an instant.

“Oooh!”

Twin sharp slaps rain down on the sensitive skin of each upper thigh, leaving distinct red palm prints.

“Wha-what was that for!” I snap my legs closed and catch myself at the tail end of my disrespectful question. Too late. Shit!

He folds his muscular arms tight across his expansive chest and narrows his piercing blue eyes into slashes. “Adding to your punishment already, petal? You’ll learn that I’m a thorough Dom. You’re not going to get away with any bullshit with me, woman. Best you follow my instructions and save yourself from additional reprimands. Now, spread those creamy thighs again and show me that luscious little pussy of yours.”

I about come undone at his velvety voice, so sure and stern. Reaching shaky fingers to the top of my knees, I ever so slowly spread them out until my legs are stretched as wide as my body will allow.

He stares at my core with ferocious intensity as if he wants to devour me. Oh hell yes, he must love what he sees. I’m already wet, eager for his everything.

“Touch your pussy. Please yourself as if you were the only one in the room. Show me how you like it, petal.”

I’ve never masturbated in front of anyone, only alone in the dark covered by my duvet. The very idea has my heart thundering in my chest.

I want this. I want to show him my hedonistic side.

Feeling powerful in my sexiness, I lavishly lick my index finger, giving him a good show, and twirl my tongue several times to be certain that it’s nice and slick before bringing it down between my spread legs. I lightly sweep up my dripping lips to brush through the small, trimmed area of silky ebony hair that rests at the top. On the second pass, a downward sweep this time, I press firmly against my pink clit.

“Ungh ….” My ass rises slightly off the leather, searching for more sensation. In a daze, I watch Judge. He is so tense that it seems like he’s about to self-combust. I decide to give him more of a visual treat and bring my hand back to my open mouth, sucking on two fingers as if they were coated in creamy frosting.

He doesn’t say a word, only watches me with those sublime eyes of his. He wants a show? Here I go …. I lower my hand and move right for my clit, this time swirling three times. The push of pleasure makes me writhe back and forth on the black sofa. I feel the chains of the clamps swaying across my breasts. Oh fuck yeah …. The sensation ramps me up for sure.

“Finger yourself. Use only one.” His low, measured baritone voice is heavy with lust, and his accent makes his voice guttural, nearly unintelligible.

I watch him through half-lowered lashes as I gently push my finger into my little sheath. After I give a few small pumps he growls, “Another, petal. Use two now. Show me how you like to use them on that perfect little cunt.”

His authoritative voice causes warm pleasure to spread through me, making me gasp. I stare at his arousal; it is so hard that it’s straining out before his spread legs. I’m close … my body is tensing and tightening up, ready to let go. My pussy clenches around my fingers, striving for the fullness I’ve been longing for. Just a few more strokes ….

“Now stop.” Curt, direct.

Nooooo!

My hand stills and moves away immediately. I want to please him.

He drops down to his knees on the black and scarlet red rug before me. He leans in close to gaze at my pussy, a wicked grin crossing his pink lips.

“Oh yeah, baby, you’re nice and wet. I want it all from you, every last drop, but not yet, girl. Now turn around and place your forearms on the back of the sofa. Present that tight little ass for your punishment.”

My mouth opens in stunned silence. I remain motionless.

Hands on his hips, he arches his perfect brow. “What, did you think I would forget about your bad girl behavior? Not a fucking chance, and your hesitation just bought you ten more licks, Valla. Care to go for ten more by stalling?” His voice is threaded with cold control.

There’s no getting out of this. I whirl around and lean into the leather while pushing out my bottom. A secret part of me welcomes being spanked. The way he does it is so … intimate.

His weight creates a dip in the supple black leather to my left. I glance back and see that he’s planted his left knee down and has a hot palm braced firmly between my shoulder blades.

Whack! Zero warning.

“Oh! Oh my God! Agh!”

Again.

And again.

The strong, fervent blows rain down on me. This leaning position makes my breasts strain and ache in the nipple clamps, blood pumping toward them. Every few seconds he leans in to jerk on one chain then the other before returning to mete out my harsh punishment. He is laying into me and, strangely, I adore it—crave it even. The force he is using is stronger than the first spanking, but not unbearable in the least. A flood of pleasure washes over me, somehow making my lust stronger, more intense.

There is so much blood pumping to my core, ass, and tits that I feel like I’m right on the precipice of an orgasm. If he would just run a finger over my clit…. I must hold back because heaven knows what trouble I would get into by coming without his permission. That has to be at the top of the submissive “no-no” list.

Another. And again. Hard, determined blows that are meant to be remembered. On and on they go. He is silent with the exception of several primal grunts that I find unbelievably hot in their ferocity.

Suddenly, everything stops. The palm resting on the center of my back is sweating and trembling lightly. I’m unable to do anything more than hang my head forward over the back of the sofa and pant.

“You took that well. Now turn around and face me.”

I steady myself with a hand on the backrest and turn around. My nipples are throbbing beyond belief, but I remain obediently silent.

Those sapphire eyes are glittering as he tells me, “Thank your Master for your punishment.”

Without hesitation, I say, “Thank you for my spanking, Sir. It was well deserved.”

He grunts in agreement and without a word crushes me to him and kisses me passionately. I’m lost, feeling weightless as he holds my mouth captive and picks me up effortlessly. I twine my legs around his bare waist. He carries us into the bedroom and remains standing as he lowers me down onto the dense duvet. His eyes are locked onto the clamps bound to my poor, pinched nipples.

“I like to see my clamps on you. Your nipples are the perfect size for jewelry. I’m going to take them off now and I’m not gonna lie to you, girl, it’s going to sting. But I’m going to lick them and make it all better, all right?”

I bite my lower lip with my front teeth and nod once, dreading the pain to come.

I watch him pinch open the clamp on my left breast and at first I nearly breathe a sigh of relief when it doesn’t hurt … until the blood comes rushing back in. I cry out, “Ow! Ooh, that hurts so badly, Sir!”

“Shhh …. Here, now let’s get the other one off you.”

As soon as the right one is gone he wastes no time before leaning down to make good on his promise, gently licking them over and over with his soothing tongue, alternating between each aching bud until the pain eases, allowing for the pleasure to start back up again. When my cries finally turn into needy moans of pleasure, he retreats and stands at the foot of the bed. I prop up onto my elbows and drink him in.

Standing at his full height he’s both intimidating and unbelievably erotic at the same time. His cock is imposing yet undeniably beautiful. It’s thick and veined as it kicks and jerks in full, eager arousal. How can he maintain this level of self-restraint? I’m amazed. My core immediately responds by blooming with dripping wetness. I desperately want to be fucked and ridden brutally hard.

He turns and opens a drawer. Reaching in, he clasps something in his hand that is out of my sight. He turns back around to stare at me. Gloriously nude, he slowly places a knee on the bed and moves toward me like an assailant on a covert mission. I’m being stalked and feel helpless. Nothing in my life has been more thrilling than this moment. The primal, elementary part of my brain roars to life. I crave him and nothing else will satiate me.

With his dark blue eyes boring into mine, he says smoothly, “Turn over now, petal. Face the headboard like a good girl. I want that ass up high and your legs spread wide for me.”

Yes, yes! He so knows which buttons to push with his sexy commands. I scramble to do his bidding.

“I want you to grab onto two of the wooden posts of that headboard and do not let go under any circumstances, understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” I reply in a quiet, girlish whisper. Where in the hell did that come from? It’s because I want to pleasure him ….

Before I can dwell on this blooming desire, he says confidently, “Mmm, I do love that, my beautiful petal, and rest assured that you will be screaming my name before I’m through with you tonight, girl.”

I bury my face into the softness of the pillow and moan as my heart hammers into overdrive. Kneeling close behind me, he runs both of his hot, callused hands from the middle of my back down to my raised ass and back up again.

“Perfection,” I hear him murmur to himself in a deep tone.

I’m so ready, please, take me! I silently chant to myself.

I freeze as I feel him dripping what I believe is lube down the seam of my ass as his left palm reaches underneath my torso to tweak and roll one of my sensitive nipples.

Yes, I so want to play.

His other hand runs back and forth in a soothing movement across my behind and I give a little forward start as one lone finger begins to move in slow circles around my virgin ass ring. I can’t help it and let out a surprised whimper. I’ve never had anyone touch me there but the dark, foreign thought turns me on beyond belief.

“Shhh, baby. You’ll take it exactly how I give it. Isn’t that right?”

Ever so softly, I whisper my reply over my shoulder, “Yes, yes, Sir, I will.”

I can’t stifle a groan as his thick index finger slowly breaches my ass, coming to rest at what feels like his middle knuckle. It stings harshly but I’m so wound up that the wicked pleasure spreading through my behind throws the initial discomfort aside.

With care he begins to finger fuck my ass in slow, controlled pumps. I become lost in the taboo sensation and my pussy is dripping and clamping down desperately for his daunting cock to fill it up.

After three more strokes, his finger is removed and I glance back. Our eyes clash just as something larger pushes intently against me.

“Are you an anal virgin, my sweet petal? Hmm? Tell me the truth.”

I look down in embarrassment before meeting his watchful gaze once again. “Y-yes, Sir.”

“Mmm, I like that. Don’t worry, baby, this is just a medium-sized anal plug. I should spank you a bit more but I’m too wound up, on the verge of fucking blue balls, so this will have to do. It’s more than enough for tonight and we need to have you well broken in before you could ever take me back here.” He bends low to place a hot kiss on my left ass cheek.

Well broken in? Holy fuck! His graphic language nearly makes me come on its own.

“Ohh, oh!” I cry out as the plug makes its way into me. It feels like the size of two of his thick fingers and I moan loudly, ashamed of how much I’m starting to love the new foreign feeling back there. He doesn’t relent until it’s seated deeply. I sigh, pleased that I took it with a modicum of grace.

“Very, very pretty, sugar. The plug looks so sexy in your tiny rosebud.” Pride threads though his rich voice.

I smile at him over my shoulder. “Thank you, Sir. It feels so good.”

I’m really getting into being controlled. Perhaps he’s right, I must be a submissive. No, correction, his submissive.

“Now I want you to be as still as you can, petal.”

I dip my chin low and watch between my spread legs as he flips over onto his back and shimmies his head and wide shoulders between my spread legs, mere inches from my eager pussy. I can feel his warm breath caress me and I begin to tremble lightly above him.

A guttural voice cuts through the room. “God damn, petal, your pussy is as gorgeous as the rest of you, and that’s saying a lot. It’s absolutely creaming for me. I want to lick that pretty little cunt clean. Do you want that as your reward for taking your punishment like a good girl?”

I flush bright red at his brazen comments, but I can’t wait to see what he’ll do next. I answer him eagerly, “Please, oh please lick me, do whatever. I’m throbbing so hard for you, Sir. I want everything, please ... it’s starting to ache so badly, please relieve me.”

Who knew that talking naughty could be such a complete turn on?

A growl erupts from below me as his strong hands wrap around my thighs, pulling me down against his waiting mouth. There’s no messing around; within seconds he’s lapping at me intently, licking me clean. And just like his kisses, the rhythm is relentless perfection. I find it hard to wrap my mind around the concept that he’s actually fucking my pussy with his tongue.

How did I ever live without this pleasure?

I gently grind my hips down in a slow circle on his face. I can’t help it, and I hear him groaning in appreciation beneath me. It’s the hottest sound I’ve ever heard. My involuntary whines begin to overshadow his as the impending orgasm mounts within me. The naughty plug so very snug in my ass is intensifying every wicked lick. As he tilts his head up and swipes his hot tongue against my clit I know that I’m nearly done for.

Please, please let him allow me to come soon!

He pushes my thighs up a fraction and grits out, “Come for me, petal. I want to eat that orgasm of yours.”

Before I’m able to respond, I’m pulled straight back down on his mouth and on the third swirl of his wet tongue against my needy clit I lose it and explode, violently shaking and bucking as the shudders roar through me like a lightning strike.

“Oh, oh Judge! Yes!” I scream out my fierce pleasure.

It is so extreme that I attempt to jerk forward to escape the racking spasms that are about to destroy me with their overwhelming force. He won’t have it. He holds fast and eats me out even harder, intent on his task as his tongue thrusts high within my core. I scream out at the power of the contractions just as he shifts to shove two of those thick fingers up into me with controlled force. The fullness only extends my orgasm as I cry out and grind down shamelessly on his hand. My head spins in unrelenting ecstasy.

Finally he releases his mouth. My head hangs limply forward with my hair covering my vision. I’m trying to catch my breath in order to slow my fluttering heart rate. Slowly I release the beams in front of me and plant my face in the pillow.

Sir’s good girl. I almost smile at my submissive thoughts.

Without one word or warning, I’m grabbed roughly and flipped over. Judge looms large above me, a devious look of lust masking his features. “I want you to spread wide for me, little one. That tight little pussy of yours is more than ready for my dick now.”

I nearly gasp. With his dark looks and his mouth still wet and gleaming with my slick arousal, he looks like a hedonistic god from some ancient legend. He’s stunning.

I obey and spread as wide as I can for him, not that it matters one bit. His body is so large that his hips and knees between my spread legs soon have me totally open for him, regardless of my trepidation.

A sliver of panic rises up from deep within me as I stare down at his proud shaft. It’s far wider than my wrist and has to be over nine inches long. My eyes widen in fear as I look to him for guidance.

“Trust me, you’ll take me just fine, my sweet, beautiful girl. You trust me, don’t you?”

He waits patiently for my answer while he slowly runs a finger from my wet, open pussy up to my clit in a relentless circuit that has me wiggling around with mounting need. What is this amazing effect he has on me?

I stare up into his darkly beautiful face and say, “I want you so badly, Sir. Please give it to me, but I beg you to go slow. I’ve never had someone even close to your size.”

A knowing smile forms on his lips. “I’ll make it so good for you, my sweet petal. Can you just hold on a little while longer for me?”

I nod as he lowers his head to suck and swirl on my tight nipples. It feels so amazing that I can’t hold still. I grasp his hard shoulders and moan as the heat spreads through my torso. I’m craving him so badly that I’m close to begging him to enter me. I nearly come undone as he starts to suck harder on my tender nipples.

He pulls back to rumble, “Mmm, my petal.”

He blows warm air on both as he nips each breast once again.

“Sir, please! You’re driving me wild!” I cry out to him.

He gently nuzzles his shadowed jaw back and forth against my chest. “I look forward to seeing these in clamps again soon. That was fucking hot, sugar.”

“Yes, anything, Judge,” I say in a breathy voice.

Fascinated, I watch as he sits back and grasps his large shaft in his right palm. He strokes the hard length twice as I watch him, completely captivated by the beauty of his masculinity. He thrusts his left hand onto the mattress by the side of my face as he shifts his hips and rubs the thick, smooth head up and down my dripping slit. I desperately want to feel him inside me. A soft groan escapes my parted mouth. So close … please just push forward!

“What is it, petal? Do you want your master to fuck you hard now, baby? Can you take it almost brutal, girl? Because that’s how I like it.”

Yes!

“Oh, oh please, Sir! Yes, God, yes, please, please don’t make me wait any longer for you.”

His cheek rubs up and down against mine. It’s a possessive and territorial move. His lips press against mine for a slow, almost tender kiss. Thank goodness I’m on my back, holding onto his shoulders for support.

“That sounds unbelievably sweet, my little one. I knew that you would be this responsive and irresistible when you beg for me.”

I barely hear him talking as he begins to shove his length into me in a smooth, unrelenting glide.

“Ungh, ahh!” My own voice barely registers as my cry echoes through the room.

The fullness is immediately overwhelming me to the point of near pain as I begin pushing against his wall of a chest, trying to heave him off me. Yet he won’t be deterred, he doesn’t stop until he’s buried inside, claiming me completely. I can only pant and try my best to relax, to adjust to his thick girth. I’m stretched so tight that I’m afraid to move at all.

His breathing is labored as his beautiful eyes roam my face, settling on my wide eyes as he says in a thick voice, “That’s right, baby. I know how to fill you, don’t I? I’m about to make you come undone. Are you good, sugar?”

I breathe deeply through my nose, doing my very best to relax. “You’re so very hot inside me. It’s so big that I can feel you pulse. It’s amazing, Sir.”

Gritting his teeth he whispers, “Fuck, you are so fucking tight and perfect around my cock. I’ve never felt anything so fucking soft in all my life. Look at me, give me that beauty. I want it all from you. Everything, Valla. You’re mine.”

Our eyes lock and the wildness within his blue irises is mesmerizing.

“I’m about to give it to you as rough and wild as you can handle and I want you to let everything go. I want you to come again, understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“All right, sweet girl, wrap your arms around my neck.”

I do as I’m told and he lowers his lips the few inches to capture my mouth in a fiery kiss. At the same time he rears his hips back, only to slam forward in a powerful thrust. The force pushes me back on the sheets several inches and into the pile of dense pillows as I cry out from the startling power of his body, his cock so hard within me.

Grabbing both of my upper thighs, he hauls me back to him in a single, fluid motion. Locking his fingers around them, he begins to hammer into me in a steady, animalistic way. My body responds immediately, blooming hotter, wilder for him, becoming wetter, preparing for another orgasm. My eyes flutter closed, allowing myself to feel more, to surrender to his domination.

In a hoarse voice he grits out, “Look at me, Valla! Watch me fuck you, baby.”

I open my eyes and become engulfed in his arctic gaze, nearly drowning in the deep pools of his eyes. My attention is drawn down to my center, where our bodies join. His cock is shiny and slick from my soaked pussy. He’s grown larger than before but somehow my pussy is accepting him willingly. Our bodies collide in a repetitive yet brutal rhythm and he grunts hard with each powerful, slamming thrust, controlling his power.

“You’re fucking perfect, baby. Damn, so tight and hot around my dick. I fucking love taking you. Breathe for me.”

Releasing his grip on my right thigh, he moves his hand between us and begins to massage my engorged clit with the pad of his thumb. The direct pressure and the taboo feeling of the anal plug work in harmony to heighten the feeling of his cock viciously impaling my little slit.

“Siiiirrrrrr!” I wail. I’m close and he has to know it. Primitive sounds of pleasure erupt from me.

His sweat drips down onto my breasts as he roars, “Now! Come now for me, Valla! Give me that fucking orgasm! Do it, baby!”

“Oh, agh!” I scream out against his corded neck as the orgasm ignites within me and climbs high until suddenly it peaks, pulsing through me in blinding, sumptuous waves of ecstasy.

“That’s it, petal.” Thrust. “Come.” Thrust. “All” Thrust “Over” Thrust “My” Thrust. “Cock!”

His huge body in motion above me is almost frightening as he ruthlessly pounds into me. The contracting flutters are still humming deep inside me and I try desperately to focus, to commit this moment to memory.

Switching his hold on my left leg, he pushes up from behind the juncture of my knee to gain an impossibly deeper angle, slamming into me with relentless force. Amazing ….

“Valla!” he shouts out while fucking me harder.

He sounds almost tortured as he grunts in time with the swing of his hips. Suddenly the harmonious rhythm breaks and becomes choppy, frantic as he drives in and lowers his heavy frame, forcing me to accept his heat, his weight. Snarling against my neck, he releases. His orgasm is so searing and powerful that I can feel the hot flood deep within my core. Spasms shake his gleaming body as pleasure washes over his face. When it subsides, he nearly collapses onto me, heaving in exhaustion and sucking in giant gulps of air against the side of my neck.

Beautiful. He’s racked my body with sweet bliss. I can only lie here and breathe, feeling boneless, nearly destroyed from the inescapable ecstasy he gave me.

Judge plants his forearms close to my face as his hands stroke my sweaty forehead. His arousal is still seated deep within me, and I welcome the feeling of being together like this. We hold onto each other and remain silent, as our frantic breathing gradually slows and approaches normal.

“Valla.”

The formal use of my name said gently, respectfully, catches my attention. “Yes, Sir?”

He takes a deep breath. “I’m willing to give you a choice. It’s not right for me to hold you against your will. You can stay here as long as you like as my sweet submissive—which is what I strongly desire—or you can go back to Kaikoura. I could take you back tomorrow morning. I sincerely hope that is not your choice, but I will respect your wishes. You don’t have to rush your answer. Take your time.” His tone is serious, and I wonder how long he has been thinking about this.

I’m quiet and reflective for a long moment before I nuzzle into his chest, reveling in his strong heartbeat and musky male scent. In a way, I feel bound to him, both physically as well as mentally. Confusion rolls through me because I do want to stay with him, but our current situation makes this option nearly impossible. There are people looking for me. There is no way that my disappearance from the guided tour went unnoticed.

He continues to stroke my hair as we both stare at each other.

“Why don’t you take a nice shower and have a rest? I have some work to do on my laptop and then I’ll cook us a nice dinner. We can get to know each other better tonight over a fantastic Craggy Range Merlot that’s made not far from here. How does that sound, my petal?”

“I’d like that, Judge.”

A callused finger softly runs along the underside of my chin. Lifting my face, he presses his warm lips to mine. A soft murmur escapes, “So sweet.” I touch my mouth to his once more.

“Hold still for a second, baby, and let me remove the toy.” I lie still as he gently removes the plug and sets it aside. He pushes off the bed and says, “Let me know if you need anything, all right? You take your time. It’s been an action-packed day.”

Giving him a contented, lazy smile, I watch him make his way to the dresser, where he snags a pair of black Armani boxer briefs. He really is sculpted everywhere. How is that even possible? He turns and lands me with a playful wink before stepping out of the room, leaving the door ajar behind him.

My body is still in heaven from the astonishing sex. This man is so breathtaking that it’s difficult to wrap my head around what is happening between us. When he touches me I feel lightheaded, almost drunk.

Suddenly parched, I decide that I would really benefit from a glass of water. I hop down, pulling his cozy white shirt over my body. As I take the few steps to enter the kitchen, I see Judge at a small desk facing the window. His left side is in full view and in a flash I see him take the last of four keystrokes to unlock his sleek silver laptop.

I have it. My heart nearly leaps out of my chest. I had the three digits from the alarm this morning on lockdown in my mind. If the four numbers I just committed to memory complete the code, then I have the option to leave if I want. He offered me the choice, but how do I know he is sincere? I’ve seen his aggressive side. What if he changes his mind about releasing me? I want to trust him, I really do, but something in me hesitates.

Act calm ….

“Oh hey, I was just thirsty. Do you mind?” I ask, pointing to the sink.

He pushes his chair back and moves with ease to pour me a glass of ice water.

“Here you are.”

A pang of guilt hits. I feel deceitful for having spied on him. I try to push that thought aside. Self-preservation instincts are still in play because of the element of danger inherent in my unusual situation.

I turn and toss over my shoulder, “Thanks, I’ll see you in a bit.”

As I make my way into the cavernous bathroom, I wonder if I will still have the courage to run from him if the need and the right opportunity arises. I’m already becoming attached to him, and the fact that I feel guilty having secured a way for myself to get out of here is troubling. My emotions are becoming so twisted that I’ve almost convinced myself this could be real, natural even. This could be nothing more than a tryst or a game to him, or perhaps something even more sinister. For all I know he could have a wife and kids. Hell, maybe this place doesn’t even belong to him! I need to keep up my guard lest I wind up with a broken heart … or worse.

Chapter Nine

***

Suspended

After a refreshing nap, I lift my arm to glance at my watch. It’s eight p.m. and the snow has intensified. I watch it flutter down through the dark night as I quickly dress in my own clothes and wander out into the kitchen.

Judge is dressed as well, wearing dark blue denim jeans and a soft looking black sweater. A pair of dark brown suede and shearling slippers completes the outfit. He looks incredibly handsome in his carefree elegance.

In a pleasant voice he says, “Perfect timing. I was just beginning dinner. Are you hungry?”

“Yes, starving actually. Can I help?”

“Ahh, sweet of you, petal, but nah. You have a seat right there on the barstool and keep me company, eh? Would you like to try that local wine I mentioned?”

“I’d love to try a New Zealand wine. I’ve heard great things about your country’s reds. Will you drink it with me?”

“You know it.” He is grinning boyishly, all relaxed and happy. His tousled locks are slightly damp, just skimming the collar of his sweater. Circling around the bar, wine in hand, he stands beside my barstool. I cross my legs and watch as he opens the bottle with practiced ease and pours each of us a generous glass.

He raises his high in a toast. “To chance encounters, petal.”

I smile and hold my glass up to his. A little clink chimes between us. “Yes, to unbelievable chance encounters, Judge.”

The dark red wine slides across my tongue and I savor the smooth oakiness.

“Mmm. This is lovely.”

“Glad you like it, sugar. It’s a favorite of mine.”

Judge rounds the bar and opens the fridge, leaning in to gather several ingredients. Admiring the way his jeans stretch deliciously across his rock hard ass, I take another sip of the silky wine, thinking Mmm ... very dark and fuckably delicious indeed.

“Seems we both worked up an appetite this afternoon, eh, petal?” He places several items on the counter before turning to give me a knowing, amused look.

“You could say that, yes.” I smile back at him, appreciative of the fact that he is cooking a meal for us. This is a rare treat for me, since in the past I’ve usually been the one doing all the cooking.

I take another sip of the velvety, vanilla and raspberry-tinged local Merlot and decide to find out more about him. At this point I know little, only that he has a stunning home and a penchant for dominance. Maybe if I get to know him better, it will be easier to decide whether to stay or go. “So, you promised to tell me how you were injured.”

His back goes rigid before he turns to face me, an empty sauce pan in his hand. He sets it down, picks up his glass of red, takes a deep drink, then rounds the high bar toward me. He hoists himself up into a tall stool and takes my hand in his.

Playing with my pink fingertips, he says, “Suppose it’s as right a time as any to tell you a bit more about my life, eh?”

I nod, remaining quiet, eager for him to continue.

“My da owned a mining company, where the work entails many risks. At times, fatal ones. Years back his men, mostly Maori miners, were deep in a shaft when a central beam became unstable, sending rock and rubble raining down on the ten man crew. They were trapped, with little air.

“We heard them calling out on the walkies, so my da went in with a small team of men and digging equipment to get them out before there was even more trouble. Halfway down the shaft the whole support system fully collapsed, causing that part of the mine to cave right in.”

I gasp, my hands flying to cover my mouth, at the horror of it all. I can’t even imagine ….

“They were instantly crushed to death. I had just entered the mine when the cave-in occurred, intent on helping out, even against my da’s wishes; he never wanted two of us in a mine at one time. He didn’t want to risk leaving my ma on her own. I was only about a hundred yards in when it happened. The scars are from iron and wood shrapnel from the ceiling beams that fell down and pinned me when all hell broke loose.” He looks unbelievably sad, recalling the tragedy. I take his free hand and softly stroke the back side as he continues. “Thankfully that beam knocked me clean out. I was in the hospital for two weeks. I don’t think I could have handled seeing my father’s body being dragged out from a mine. I’m still gutted that I was too unwell to attend his funeral, eats away at me every single day. And poor Tane, his only brother was one of the guys who was killed. He was the main wage earner and his family was about to lose their farm after the incident. So I purchased the place and put the deed in Tane’s name. That’s what best mates do for each other, eh?”

I nod slowly as he continues with his story.

“The investigators spent five months on site and determined it a tragic accident that could not have been avoided. My da was obsessed with keeping up with safety codes. It would have killed him all over again to know what happened to his men. Now I’m the owner of the Judge Silver Mining Company.”

A heavy moment passes, thick with silence. I clasp his hand. “Judge, I really wish I could understand what you went through. I’m so very sorry and I want you to know that I’m here to listen if you ever want to talk more about it. It’s good to get things out, to confide in others.” I think of my parents, and how I held so much back for so long before finally recounting my story to a few close friends over time.

Giving my fingers a gentle squeeze he says, “Ta, petal. It was a long time ago, seven years now. I still have nightmares, but a steady amount of daily exercise helps me sleep a lot better than I used to. Making the mine safe and staying productive at work has been my mission in life since that day.”

“What about your mother? How has she adjusted? And your siblings?”

“I’m the only child. My Ma is good now. She’s the sweetest woman, always wearing colorful frocks and a smile. Recently she started dating a widower. I’m happy for her. No one deserves to be alone in life, eh, petal?”

“True,” I reply thoughtfully.

“Anyhow, if she ever met you, she’d think you were a choice American. She shares her son’s excellent taste,” he says with a wolfish grin that lightens the sad mood.

“So, how old are you?” I ask, then smile shyly. “Sorry for all the questions. I just want to get to know you better.”

Grinning that infectious smile he states, “Thirty-five. I look it too, eh?”

“Not at all, especially with that smoking hot body of yours!”

“Really?”

Might as well tell him the truth. “Judge, I find you exceedingly handsome. In fact, you are without a doubt the sexiest, most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on.”

He is immobile. In fact he looks like he has just turned to stone—he’s that stunned by my blatant honesty. A deep pink flush creeps up the back of his neck as he hops up without a word to ignite the gas burners on the stove.

I move to break the silence. “So, what are you creating for us this evening, oh great culinary wizard?”

He clears his throat, still averting his gaze, and says, “Just a simple pasta with marinara and fresh basil. Unless, of course, you would like something different?”

“No, that sounds lovely. Please let me know if you can make use of me.”

He turns around and I nearly sway back into my stool as his cobalt eyes collide with mine.

“Oh, I will indeed, after dinner. That’s a certainty, my lovely.” I suck in a shaky breath in anticipation of this evening’s indecent activities. He continues, “You’re just perfect right where you are, petal. Enjoying the wine?”

“Yes. Thank you, Judge.” Suddenly I feel shy around him, which is perplexing. I push on with my questions. “So, out of curiosity, how did you know my name?”

His eyes soften, as if remembering a fond moment. “I heard your friend call your name while we were having a look at each other back in the roadside café. It’s beautiful and unique, just like you.”

I blink twice. He absolutely unnerves me.

He tosses the pasta into the boiling pot of water before chopping a handful of basil. The delicious aroma fills the kitchen.

Without raising his head he asks, “So where exactly are you from in South Carolina?”

I raise an eyebrow, curious as to how he might know that I’m from the south.

He glances up and grins. “The DJ from Dingo’s, remember?”

“Ah, yes, of course. I’m from Charleston. It’s on the lower East coast. Have you ever heard of it?”

“I haven’t. Is it a scenic town, then?”

“Oh yes. It’s actually quite historic. It sits on a peninsula surrounded by the intercoastal waterway that leads out into the Atlantic ocean. It was fortunate enough to remain untouched by the Civil War. There is a beautiful waterfront park there called White Point gardens where they used to hang pirates. They were suspended from the grand oak trees as a warning to marauders who thought to sneak into Charleston’s wealthy harbor.” I’m about to add that he should visit me there sometime but catch myself.

“Sounds like a cool place. And what about your parents?”

Hesitantly I reply, “They were both killed in a small plane crash when I was eighteen, during my first year of college.”

He abruptly stops chopping and looks up as his body turns rigid.

“I should have been with them on the trip; however, I wanted to earn extra money for school and stayed behind to work overtime during the Christmas break. My plan was to fly out separately to visit them for a long weekend. My father had chartered a private jet for the first time. He wanted to surprise my mom with a route over the Sierra Nevadas. Something went wrong, the investigation pointed to high winds ….” I struggle to continue. “Anyhow, when the police showed up at my job I came unglued. It took them close to half an hour to convince me that they were talking about the right people. After all was said and done, I checked my phone records and saw that I had called their cell numbers two hundred and eighty times in the span of forty-eight hours. I was so desperate for it not to be true. I couldn’t bear to be left alone in the world.”

I look off toward the dark windows, embarrassed about telling him things I have only discussed with a handful of close friends and relatives.

He leans across the bar and rests a warm, comforting hand on my forearm. “That’s such a shame, Valla. I’m sure they were wonderful people. How could they not be, looking at you?”

Yes, they were my world, I think silently to myself.

“Thank you, Judge. They were quite wonderful. My father was an engineer at the port in Charleston. He loved his work and knew how to crack a joke at every turn. And my mother volunteered at two different animal shelters in town. It’s a miracle that we only had three cats and a dog. She would have brought them all home to live with us if my father and the health code would have permitted it.”

“Would have liked to have met them, darlin’. What were their names?”

“James and Elena, but everyone called my dad Jack. What about your father? What was his name?”

He looks wistful, sad once again as he answers, “Brock. My father’s name was Brock. He was a fine man.”

***

We’ve just finished a wonderful pasta dinner while sitting close together on his sumptuous black couch. Much of our meal was spent in comfortable silence, which suited me fine after such an intense discussion. He asked me to stay put and relax as he loaded the dishes in to the dishwasher. The roaring fire creates an unbelievably romantic backdrop. He finishes up and returns to sit, and I welcome his closeness as we settle in together.

“What do you do for a living in Charleston then, petal?”

His long arm is draped casually over the back of the sofa and his fingers are twining around a strand of my long hair. His long legs are propped up on the thick glass coffee table. He appears utterly at ease. Why wouldn’t he? It’s his house.

“I’m the director of an art gallery called Prism.”

“Is that what you studied at your university then, in Charleston?”

“Yes, I have a bachelor’s degree in Fine Art.”

He stares at me, his fingers still in my hair, as if processing everything I’ve told him.

“And are you happy working, petal?”

“I have a few wonderful co-workers that make it all worthwhile. I was quite enthusiastic in the beginning; however, as with most businesses, the bottom line became about the money more than the art. It can crush your appreciation rather quickly.”

Playfully he asks, “And what about all the blokes in your town? They all fancy you, I bet.”

I nearly choke on a sip of wine. Reaching forward to set my glass on the table, I reply, “Ha! Um, not really. I mean the South is full of lovely ladies, and I never really went our looking, so my dates have been few and far between. Plus, don’t most men prefer blondes? They’re everywhere in Charleston and they get tons of attention.”

“Can’t speak for other blokes, but what I want, what I fancy beyond reason, is sitting right next to me in my home, exactly where I want her to be.”

He gives a firm tug on my hip and I slide right into his taut, muscled side. He’s watching me with a burning intensity in his phenomenal eyes.

Hot breath caresses my ear as he bends low and close to continue his verbal seduction. “She’s just over five feet tall with a mane of silky dark hair and eyes like the Tasman Sea. Sheer perfection.”

Oh damn ... that was both possessive and hot.

“Judge,” I whisper against his neck, “thank you. No man has ever complimented me quite as sincerely as you.” Whenever he is close, touching me like this, I feel weightless, nearly dizzy from the foreign emotions he brings forth from deep within me.

He caresses my cheek before applying light pressure with his lips. I turn to him as he swipes once across my bottom lip with his smooth tongue. “I’m only stating the obvious,” he says. “Now, have you given any thought to my offer?”

I have indeed, but I’m scared.

“Yes, and I’m still undecided.”

He presses his body into mine, pushing me down onto my back. “Well then, let me help you out a bit with your decision.”

Oh yes, please do ….

A skilled hand flips open the button on my jeans as he licks the seam of my lips with his perfect tongue. Oh, does he ever know what moves to make! It’s as if he’s a master chess player.

My eyes slide shut and I whisper, “Judge.”

His voice, rich and powerful, cuts me off. “Shhh, just lie back and be my dessert tonight, sugar. Mmmm, I can’t wait to get my fill of your sweet cream. Drives me right mad, woman.”

I whimper as he slides my panties and jeans effortlessly down my legs. He moves with them and before I know it, his dark hair is visible between my thighs. He wastes no time lavishing open-mouthed licks and kisses first on my needy clit and then lower, lapping passionately against my core.

“Yesssss! Mmmmore. Please don’t stop.”

His head lifts slightly, mouth gleaming with my dew. “You know what I expect to hear, petal.”

I hit him with a heated stare and purr, “Sir, please make me come with your perfect tongue. I’ll behave, I promise.”

He grunts his approval and lowers his gorgeous face down once again to work his tongue over and over against my pulsing clit. The pleasure is mounting fast as he works two wide fingers in and out of my throbbing channel, hitting just the right angle.

“Sir!” I clutch his shoulders and wail so loudly that the hairs on my arm stand on end. I sense what’s sure to be a massive orgasm beginning to ignite within me. His fingers work me faster, urging the spasms to a near frenzy as the pleasure sweeps over me. He’s groaning hard as he licks my clit; his touch becoming ever more feverish.

I moan twice as I float back down to reality. When I’m finally able to open my eyes, he is on his knees between my legs, watching me with a wicked look in his eyes.

“I want … to pleasure you now.” I’m panting the words as I struggle to push up on shaky forearms.

I certainly do not have to ask him twice. He unbuckles his wide leather belt and unbuttons his worn jeans. I’m on my knees, eager to please him. He stands quickly and shimmies out of his pants and boxer briefs, tugging his sweater off in the process, before kneeling back on the sofa, his ass resting on his heels. I slowly unbutton my cardigan, doing my very best to put on a good show, to draw things out and ramp him up. Once I’m bare, I shift my weight onto all fours before him and lick his rock hard shaft from root to tip.

His breathing quickly becomes labored as I swirl my tongue around the smooth head. His chest is visibly rising and falling in excitement. I nuzzle closer to his proud cock, enjoying his silky feel and all-male scent of spice and musk. One hand weaves under my hair to caress my neck as I grasp his perfect cock in my right palm, alternating between deep sucking and tongue flicks.

I want to drive him as out of his mind as I was minutes before. The hand I’d been using around his shaft snakes between his legs to caress his hanging sack. A long, low groan floats down to me as he begins to shake. The hand at my neck tightens as I increase my speed, moving my mouth up and down his cock with ardent determination.

The diameter of his massive shaft grows wider with each passing sweep to the point where it’s a challenge to move quickly along his swollen cock. I feel his body become tight with tense expectation. Feeling empowered, I keep up my rhythm until his fist closes tightly in my hair. I hear him roar out in male satisfaction as his hot essence floods the back of my throat. I struggle to swallow, wanting to take everything he has to offer.

Slowly I release him and lean back, pushing my hair away from my glistening face. Glowing with sweat, Judge is breathing hard. He reaches for me and pulls me atop him as he collapses onto his back on the long sofa.

Through the stillness he speaks against my hair, “I don’t care what your answer is. I’m never letting you go, petal.”

I’m shocked by both the seriousness in his voice and the strength of the statement. I wait for him to say he’s kidding. He doesn’t. His arms close around me in both heat and unyielding power. Suddenly wary and alert, I wonder, could he be serious? Was I a fool to ever believe that I had a choice? That he would ever let me out of here of my own free will?

Chapter Ten

***

Escape

It is now three in the morning, and like an owl, I’m wide awake. After such a long, intense day, we headed to bed early—not long after the potent post-dinner encounter. Judge was obviously exhausted because he was completely out the moment his head hit the downy pillow.

The security code I memorized earlier has been playing over and over again in my head. Call it self-preservation, but I have to get those keys. I need to get away from what is building between us. I want to trust him. Hell, I want to help him. Wouldn’t he be in deep shit if he dropped me off somewhere? Wouldn’t he be seen as a kidnapper if someone recognized him? No, I’m going to steal his truck and come up with a plausible story so he won’t be implicated. I only hope that the alarm is the same as the code for his laptop; otherwise I’m so screwed.

I slip from beneath the dense comforter, tip-toe out of bed, and quietly put on the clothes I arrived in. Feeling like a cat burglar, I cross to the tall door and ever so slowly push it open. The fire is nearly out, but streaming through the central living room windows is just enough soft moonlight to see by. His keys are resting on the edge of the coffee table. He probably fished them out of his jeans pocket right before he passed out for the night, figuring there was no need to hide them because I can’t get out of the house with the alarm active.

I try not to breathe as I lean in close to pick up the keys, cradling them in my hand so they don’t rattle. I turn back to stare at the bedroom door, silently wondering if I will ever see him again. What if he goes to jail?

Shit, I can’t think of this now. I have to stick with the plan and move forward.

Turning, I move toward the stairs leading to the lower level. I carefully wind through the exercise equipment, thinking how it would be a classic Valla move to knock over a loud barbell this close to freedom. There’s a closed door I’m hoping will lead to his garage, the one I saw from the exterior of the house. A keypad lies on the right side of it, just at eye level. Here it goes ….

I move in close in order to discern the number in the near darkness. I carefully type in the digits 5894521. Why in the fuck is it still blinking? I take a chance and hit the pound key. Immediately it flashes, reading ‘Disarmed.’ I click the handle downward and slide through the doorway into the black, unfamiliar room. Reaching blindly along the wall, I feel for a switch.

A florescent panel flicks to life overhead, illuminating a hulking, jet-black Range Rover with blacked out windows and sweet black rims. Wicked cool. Sorry, Judge, but I’m borrowing this beauty for a while tonight.

I click the ‘unlock’ icon on the key fob and the interior lights of the hefty SUV illuminate as I reach out for the handle. Once inside, I take a deep breath and decide that it’s wise to consolidate all noise. I simultaneously hit the garage button on the sun visor and crank the key in the ignition. The engine purrs to life immediately and I give a little start as the seductively dark song “Radioactive” by Imagine Dragons begins pulsing through the interior of the truck. His sound system must be first class because the beats are so strong they mirror my pounding heart. Was he playing this when he brought me up the mountain?

Stop stalling and go!

The Rover lurches backward into the night as I give it too much gas. Slow, now nice and easy, Valla. Don’t blow it in his driveway, for Christ sakes!

Whoa. The mountain seems far more ominous and steep in the still black of night. Too frightened to unclutch my hands from the wheel and mess with the complex stereo system, I let the song continue to thunder away in its smooth accusation. He’s been nothing but nice, yet the wild, domineering passion within him scares the hell out of me.

What if there is a darker level to him that I have yet to discover? What if he wants to make me some sort of live-in slave for his depraved use? The last thing he said to me was, verbatim, ‘I’m never letting you go, petal.’ No, I’m definitely making the right move here.

Not the time for emotion. Focus on the road, Valla!

The high beams are blaring a wide path of light in front of the Rover, leading the way toward my freedom as I begin the long, perilous descent off the mountain. There are several ‘high’ and ‘low’ gear setting buttons located in the center console. I flit my gaze down to them, wondering which ones I should push to aid me in snow and ice. I don’t want to push the wrong one, which could have me skidding down the mountain from loss of proper traction.

I should have checked them out closely while I was still in the garage, but I needed to get the hell out of there in case he woke up. As I creep along, I push the button labeled with an image of a truck on a steep incline—pretty obvious there. I’m not far, perhaps five hundred feet away from his home and I can’t resist glancing up in the rearview mirror one last time. The light is still streaming out of the garage and I hope I don’t regret this decision. I’ll definitely miss him calling me ‘petal’ in his silky accent. My fingers lock tighter on the steering wheel as I focus dead ahead, determined to put this all behind me.

Out of nowhere, like a shot in the dark, a massive red deer with a huge rack of antlers bounds across the snowy path directly in front of the SUV. Gasping, I jerk the wheel hard to the right, just narrowly missing his back haunches. Fumbling frantically for the brake, I slam on it hard, which sends the already off-kilter truck into a full one-eighty spin on the slick black ice concealed beneath the powder. I try my best to overcorrect the steering as the truck slides out of control. Oh my God! Please don’t let it fly off the mountain! I don’t want to die this way!

I’m suddenly thrown hard to my left as my shoulder hits against the window with rough force. The back right side of the vehicle has slammed into a tree, or something equally hard, immediately stopping the wild spin. Hot pain shoots through my shoulder as I fumble for several minutes, trying to get the truck back into gear. What could it be stuck on—a stump, a pile of icy snow? I give the accelerator two more healthy pushes without success. Defeated, I’m just leaning down to unclick my seatbelt, ready to hop out and see what’s going on, when swift movement out of my driver’s window stops me dead in my tracks.

I gasp in astonishment and struggle to engage the locks. In a split second, the unlocked door is lurched violently open and a low, furious voice grinds out, nearly breathless with exertion through the frigid, foggy darkness, “You just upped the game to the next level, my little beauty.”

Oh no. Fuck noooo!

Incapable of coherent thought, much less speech, I frantically scramble to escape into the back seats, anywhere away from his pulsing wrath. I land sideways on my knees against the smooth black leather. Looking like the ultimate predator in the pitch black night, he hauls himself up into the truck. I lurch for the door, trying to get out, but he slams the locks into place. Terror has me immobile. I watch as he puts the Rover into a different setting. It takes two tries but he finally gets it unstuck. A loud lurch is accompanied by a cringe-worthy crunching noise.

Oh shit, was that his bumper? I wrecked his car! Just another issue to add to my overloaded brain. I watch in abject horror as he turns the vehicle slowly around and heads back up the steep hill, straight toward his now well-illuminated home. I bite my bottom lip, desperate to feel anything but the adrenaline-laced fear flooding my system.

Nearly growling, he stares ahead and says loudly over the pounding bass of the music, “You had no way of knowing this but I live for a challenge, petal. Easy just doesn’t do it for me, baby. I tried to give you time to adjust to me, tried to be a gentleman, but now it’s a no-go. You will do exactly as I say from now on or you’ll be appropriately punished. You must be totally mad to think you’d have even the slightest chance of getting away. You do not walk away from me baby, ever.”

I whimper in fear as I huddle into myself, as if I could melt into the back seat.

***

He avoids my eyes as he scoops me out of the Rover. I know better than to fight him; his strength is far too great. I’m hanging over his shoulder and trembling hard as he stalks up the interior stairs and across the heavily shadowed living room. Is he going to punish me? If so, how? His body is as stiff as an arrow beneath me. He’s clearly livid.

Tossing me carelessly onto the bed, he turns to tend to the fire in the bedroom, adding four fat logs that crackle and pop as they catch flame. We both know I’d have no chance of escaping him on foot. If I made a break for it right now, I couldn’t even beat him to the top steps. I scramble up to the headboard and clutch a pillow to my chest.

Near breathless, I say, “Now that you’ve won, are you going to have your way with me? What are you going to do for a punishment this time, Judge, make me crawl around for you or some sick shit?” I’m pissed off as I hiss out the words to him. “Well, go on and get it over with, you damn savage! Were you ever going to let me go or was that all part of your control game? Your mixed messages are more confusing than a fucking labyrinth!”

His broad back to me, he prods the fire with a black iron poker for several minutes. When he finally turns around, his features are stoic and darkly intimidating. In a clear, deep voice, he says, “You’re about to be punished. The most severe punishment yet, and well deserved. And rest assured, my petal, I’ll only take you if and when you beg me. And you will, so fuckin’ sweetly for me, darlin’. Come to think of it, I wager it will take all of five minutes before you plead for me to fuck you senseless. You should damn well know by now that I’m a man of my word. Of course I would have let you go!” He finishes his tirade in a roar of outrage. I’ve never heard him yell before. It is petrifying, causing my breath to whoosh out of my lungs, but his arrogance also makes me angry. I’m no fool. He can’t order me around like a wind-up sex toy. In fact, he can’t make me do shit.

I narrow my eyes and remain defiantly silent. Beg him? Hell, no!

Throwing off his thick black coat, followed by his fitted white T-shirt, he leans down to pull off his boots, leaving his sexy jeans and wide, weathered belt in place.

His voice is dangerous and deliberate as he says, “Get off the bed and undress. Now, Valla.”

“No.”

“Woman, just try me. Do it or you won’t be able to walk for two days.”

I start to hesitate but really don’t want to add insult to injury. Although my heart is beating so fast I think I might faint, I push off the high log bed and slowly remove all of my clothing, placing it on the bed behind me. He waits, watching me, unmoving. No expression. That’s the scariest part.

“Follow me to the library.”

He’s already one step out of the bedroom as I call out, “Judge—”

He cuts me off. “Enough,Valla.” It’s said with supreme annoyance, coupled with male aggression.

My jaw snaps shut as I follow him on shaky legs through the shadowy darkness, dreading what will happen next. My harsh, unavoidable punishment.

One thing I know for certain about Judge is that he gets off on intense control. It’s part of his vital make-up and I’m already addicted.

Part of me wonders why I ran away to begin with …. So far he has been nothing but genuine and caring to me. Why did I run like a jackrabbit in the night, trying to escape from this fearsome wolf? Do I fear him, or do I crave his dominant touch punishing me for my willful ways? Perhaps it’s a primal combination of both. Whatever it is, it has me mesmerized, lusting for his scalding gaze and masterful touch.

I stand motionless in a small room that I’ve yet to explore, an office of sorts with books lining the tall shelves. There is an oversized, heavy oak desk near a large window and a black leather chair in a corner near the door.

He sternly takes me by my bare shoulders and positions me in the center of a dense rug. I don’t move an inch as he briefly leaves the room. When he returns there is a familiar length of climbing rope wound about his palm and forearm. Without a word he takes the edge of the rope and allows the rest to fall with a thud on the carpet right at my feet. My wrists are pulled forward and swiftly bound together. He handles me in an unfeeling, nearly clinical manner, and I’m afraid I’ve pushed him too far. Turning, he stalks across the small room to pick up the chair that rests behind his desk. Bringing it to the center of the room, he sets it before me. Where in hell is this leading?

He bends low to pick up the length of rope before stepping up onto the chair. With precision, he tosses the rope up over one of the high timber rafters. I can only watch in heated anticipation of what’s to come. The rope twirls down the other side of the beam, landing directly in front of me and pooling onto the dark carpet. He steps down and closes in to confront me with a wicked gleam in those far too pretty eyes.

Without a word of reassurance or comfort, he looks up and slowly draws the extra slack in the rope over the beam. As he pulls, hand over hand, my bound wrists are elevated higher and higher until they finally come to rest in an inverted ‘V’ high above my head. I’m captured. At his mercy. Enthralled.

Enigma is playing low, the sound filtering in from another room. The sensual, breathy, gothic chants make me feel like a fallen angel. I’m ready to delve into his creativity headfirst. I’ve turned into his willing submissive, his debauched siren. I adore every scandalous minute of it.

He stops the momentum of the rope when it’s taut and I’m lightly balancing on my scarlet red tiptoes. He ties the remaining length to a leg of the weighty chair before standing to face me.

His bare chest gleams in the low light emanating from a lone, fat candle resting on his masculine desk. He looks down at me and murmurs, “Very nice, little one. I really enjoy seeing you nude and helpless in my climbing ropes. In fact, I’ve never seen anything sexier in all my life. I’m thinking we’ll have to incorporate scenes like this more often.”

His seductive words in that unbelievable accent send a blast of heat directly to my pussy. It’s the first inkling of praise or kindness since my escape attempt. I inwardly hope that his anger is dissipating.

“Now, my girl,” he begins in his distinctly deeper Dom tone, “follow my instructions and I may decide to be kind and reward you. That is, if you take your punishment gracefully. It won’t be easy, but you know how sweet my rewards can be, don’t you, petal?”

My heart hammers as the build-up nearly drives me over the edge. We’ve yet to begin and I’m already craving his touch.

“Yes,” I manage to eke out in a whisper-light tone.

He cocks his head in question, a blank look on his face. “Yes? You know better by now, beauty.”

I quickly cover my error. “Yes, S-Sir. Anything, Sir,” I stammer. Why am I so nervous? Is it because I want to please him so badly?

He takes a step away and smiles a malicious smile that only a fool would interpret as kindness. I watch in fascination as he slowly unbuckles his wide, black leather belt. I’m already yearning for his taut body and he’s not even nude yet. I would kiss his feet at this point and I’m certain he can sense it by the way he’s eyeing me like a red-tailed hawk that has cornered a mouse. My breath hitches as he whips his belt out through the loops with one forceful tug. His intense blue eyes never leave mine. They are flinty, hard, and alert.

Bring it, bad boy. I’m beyond ready.

The belt dangles from his right hand as he uses his left thumb to flick open the buttons on his jeans. With an open palm, he absently pushes them down toward the floor. As he stands I can clearly make out his hard-on jutting through white boxer briefs melded to his muscled frame like a second skin.

I want to cry out, “Please, please don’t take too long!” Yet I remain obedient. Silent. His good girl.

He sweeps the jeans aside with his foot and runs his hand down the length of his worn leather belt. In a husky voice he asks, “Are you looking forward to feeling my belt, petal? You deserve a rigid crop tonight, female, but lucky for you this is all I have on hand. Seems like we will need to do a bit of online toy shopping, and soon. I’ll be nice and warn you that this leather is going to burn a fuck of a lot more than my hand. Brace yourself, petal.” He gives me no chance to respond as he adds, “I sincerely hope you make it through this like a good girl because you’ve earned it tonight. Wrecking my truck and stealing my code to escape, you bad, naughty girl.” He shakes his head back and forth and makes a ‘tsk tsk’ sound.

Air whooshes out of my lungs as I plead, “God yes, please, Sir. I want so much to feel your strap on me!”

“That’s perfect, sugar. Now hold still and take what I have for you. I want you to use your safe word if you’re scared or in too much pain, understood? You could never, ever disappoint me, all right, darlin’?”

“I understand, Sir, and I will.”

“That’s good, you should. I have a very good idea just how much pain you can tolerate at this point. We’ll build up your tolerance soon enough.”

“I have full trust in you, Sir”

He gives me a look I can’t interpret. “I thought that you did, but your mischief tonight has shown me otherwise. So I’m going to teach you a few lessons in trust, my petal.”

He surprises me by lowering his large body onto his knees before me. Wait, if this is punishment then I’m all about it!

He reaches out with his free arm and wraps it around my torso, pulling me forward a few inches as he inhales deeply against my pussy.

“Mmm, I love your sweet scent, baby. It’s so fucking addictive. I’ll never get enough of it. Ever.” The last word is said in a low, animalistic growl.

His velvety tongue softly connects with my pink clit as he begins to lap at me. All I can manage is a strangled moan of ecstasy as I hang suspended from the beam.

Pulling slightly back, he glances up at me. My inevitable wetness is so pronounced that it’s already glazing his full lips. It’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.

“You will not come unless I allow it, petal. Will you do that for me, baby?”

“All right, Sir. I won’t.” It would get me nowhere to protest. This man sets his own rules that will be followed, exactly and to the letter.

Please let me find some inner strength.

He raises up from the floor to stand at his full, imposing height. The belt is still firmly clutched in his hand as he wordlessly steps behind me, out of view. My legs are quivering and I hope that they don’t give out on me. It wouldn’t matter if they did as I’m suspended, immobile, more than ready for his use.

The unmistakable smoothness of the leather gently glides across my pale ass, teasing me.

“Very pretty, little petal.”

He places a hot palm firmly on my left shoulder, stilling me, gentling me. Without warning, giving me just enough time to suck in a frightened breath, I hear the leather belt cut through the air and land in a blow of searing heat across my right ass cheek.

“Aaaah! Sirrrrr!” I scream out and begin moving around on my toes in a shameless attempt to diffuse the white hot pain caused by the blow. Ignoring my cry, he lands another in a different spot, but it is just as hard. I can barely focus from the pain that has lit a roaring fire on my poor behind.

Now, this is in a whole other stratosphere from spanking!

“Breathe through it, little one.”

I suck in gulps of air, trying to calm down and not cry. Adrenaline has spiked through my system. Rational thought is impossible. Only sensation, dark and heady.

Another blow lands, impossibly precise and without a modicum of mercy.

“That’s it. My girl is so fucking sweet.”

His encouragement is like a drug to me. I’ll do anything for his approval. We feed off each other; it’s a stark reality. He needs my pain and I need his strict hand .…

He starts up again in that powerful, brutal rhythm and the pain begins to morph into something like an aphrodisiac, making me impossibly soaked for him.

Somewhere in my brain I realize that he is giving me exactly what he knows I can take. The whipping could easily be harsher, brutal in fact, considering his impressive strength. At blow fifteen, his belt is thrown to the floor with a harsh clank against the wood. From behind me, Judge nuzzles into my sweaty, shivering neck.

“I’m so proud of you, petal. You’ve been a very good girl. Would you like your reward now?”

My voice is unsteady as I answer him, “Yes. Yes, please, Sir.”

He lightly touches my blazing ass and moves in front of me to untie the rope tethered to the leg of the heavy chair.

I drop straight to my knees and his bare feet come into view. He bends and unties the ropes binding my wrists, freeing me.

“Now, let me see those silky pink lips wrapped around my cock.”

Oh hell yes! My turn. Maybe I’ll succeed in making him as mindless as he’s just made me.

He unbinds my hands and I waste no time reaching up to pull his masculine perfection out of his underwear. He’s like a dark gladiator towering over me, observing his obedient conquest. I wrap both my hands around his broad length and lower my lips to kiss the slit. He is so impossibly hard, like smooth marble. I’m going to make this so memorable for him ….

“That’s right, sweet girl.” His breathing is loud and harsh as he rests his hands on top of my head. “Now take me into your perfect mouth. Show me how talented you are, baby doll.”

I’m excited by his enthusiasm and push forward as deep as my throat will allow. I repeat the delving exploration, this time swirling it with my tongue. Huge palms cup the back of my head as I keep up the sexy rhythm, getting wetter with each stroke. My pussy lips are drenched, and the moisture is starting to seep down my legs, so great is my need for his touch.

An agonized groan cuts through the air. “Valla, fuck baby! So damn good.”

Mmm, I love sucking his cock. The act gives me a small shred of control. Just as the thought crosses my mind, he pulls back, preventing me from completing my mission.

His hot hands haul me up roughly to a standing position as he walks me over to the wide, black leather club chair. He pushes me down, draping me over the padded arm.

A guttural voice purrs out, “Brace yourself, girl, because I’m going to fuck your tight little ass until you scream for me. It’s a good thing you slicked me up. It will make it far easier on you, my petal. This is the second part of your punishment tonight. Take it gracefully and I’ll allow you to come hard, baby.”

He sounds downright scary yet thrilling as I prepare for his assault. I gasp as he ever so slowly begins to work his thickness into me with a slow, pumping motion.

“Oh! Ooh!” I wiggle frantically from foot to foot, trying to adjust to his impossible girth. This is punishment! It burns my little ass badly—that is unavoidable—but there is also a taboo current of dark pleasure washing through my system.

“Breathe deeply and push out. It will make it easier for you to take my cock into you all the way, Valla. Master is nice and slick. I’ll accept nothing less than being seated deeply in that tiny virgin ass of yours.”

I want and need more of this foreign sensation. I try my best to relax as he forces himself into my back passage. My damp hands reach out to claw at the leather before me. He’s relentless, intent on teaching me a lesson, teaching me who is in charge. As soon as he’s seated impossibly deep, he sets right into a steady, pumping rhythm as he fucks my ass from behind. One hand is planted in my hair and the other clutches my hip like a vice.

There is no escape.

Helpless wails of pleasure and pain are spilling from my open lips as my orgasm quickly rises up like a jetting fountain.

He seems to sense it and grits out between clenched teeth, “Reach down and rub your pretty clit, baby.”

I quickly comply and swirl my thumb around my clit just as he rears back, only to slam forward, buried in my ass.

“Ungh, Sirrrrrrr!” I’m shaking and sweating, struggling to hold back but it’s becoming impossible.

“Now, Valla! Do it now! Give everything to me, baby! I wanna feel that fucking orgasm of yours, baby!”

I scream loud enough to vibrate the books on the shelves as the orgasm rips through me in a violent tide. The feeling is different, darker. My channel clenches hard without his cock within it. The ass fucking intensifies the spasms to the point of ecstasy. It’s so intense that he has to clamp down on my hips to keep me from bucking him off me as I convulse hard beneath him. The constant clenching of my core has clearly driven him over the edge. His pounding has now turned savage. The chair has lurched against the wall from the chaos and gruff unintelligible sounds are bouncing around the intimate room, proof of his lost control.

He plants himself impossibly deep one last time as he comes hotly inside my bottom, groaning loudly. He sounds both uncivilized and wild as he grits out against the back of my head, “You’re mine, Valla.”

I drop my drenched forehead down onto the seat of the chair and nearly pass out from the beauty of it all. He has started to invade my thoughts on such a profound level that it frightens me.

“Petal?”

Boneless in my relaxed state, I’m twined within his limbs and can only manage to answer a dazed, “Hmm?”

“Don’t ever run from me again.”

I’m still beneath him.

This isn’t a game … yet he assured me that I have a choice. Which is it?

Why are the lines so blurred?

He leans in close and softly kisses my cheek before gently pulling out of me with extreme care. Immediately, I’m scooped up and carried back to his bedroom.

Chapter Eleven

***

The Benefits of Obedience

Three more times. The man is insatiable. To say that we have chemistry is the understatement of the century. It’s noon and I’ve just gathered enough energy to stumble into the shower to soothe my very sore and well-used body. If his goal was to make me completely forget about escaping him then he has succeeded. As I towel off, I inspect the red stripes that criss-cross my still very warm bottom. It was a harsh punishment but it undoubtedly fit my bad girl behavior. He is indeed a strict and thorough Dom.

As hard as I try, I can’t stop wondering why he insists on keeping me against my will. I have not given him my answer, yet I still remain here as his. Could it be that he’s just lonely? Perhaps he has a difficult time trusting women? He’s obviously very wealthy, judging from his luxurious lifestyle and profitable profession. Every eligible female in New Zealand must have him on her radar. That could create a lot of unwanted pressure …. Maybe he really likes the idea that we are on equal terms? Aside from his need to dominate me, he does genuinely respect my thoughts and opinions. Why couldn’t we have come together under normal circumstances?

I give up the guesswork and step out of the open bedroom door into the living room. My eyes cut to the large flat-screen Sony TV and realize that he has never turned it on. Before I can give it another thought he hits the top step and doesn’t miss a beat before crossing to me.

I stop dead in my tracks and grin. Damn, he is so gorgeous.

“Hi ya, petal. Have a nice shower, darlin’?”

He’s been working out and is coated in sweat. As he stops five feet from me, he runs a towel across his dripping face, neck, and hair. He’s wearing a black T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off and baggy silver Nike basketball shorts. I admire his network of fine muscles, a physique as fine as any you would find flipping through Sports Illustrated. His casual athletic gear only amplifies his rampant masculinity. I’m in instantaneous lust. Again.

“Look at you. Good enough to eat, big guy,” I tease him in a sultry purr.

Sexy blue eyes lazily roam down my body, covered only with the soft towel.

“Mmm …. I like that. C’mere and give me a sweet afternoon kiss.”

I take measured steps toward him, suddenly feeling a bit shy as he bends down to gently kiss my lips, careful not to touch the rest of me.

“Don’t want to get my princess dirty. I’m a sweaty bastard.”

“I like your scent on me.” I look up at him through my lashes, desire blooming within me.

A dark brow arches. “Do you now, woman? Well that’s bloody brilliant to hear. As a matter of fact, your scent drives me fucking insane.” He whispers the last two words as if it’s just our torrid little secret.

My lips turn up as I tease, “Judge, you’re so wicked.”

“Petal, after I shower I’m going to personally reaquaint you to my hedonistic side.”

Ooooooh! Lucky me ….

“Now get your sweet ass back to my bedroom, pronto.”

I smirk like a vixen. “Or?”

Ripped arms cross against his chest and his wide shoulders square off.

“Seriously?”

I raise my palms toward him in playful defeat. “Only asking. I’m going now!” I whirl around and race through the kitchen, dropping the towel in my haste. He’s hot on my heels. I glance back and catch his eyes just as he enters the bedroom and points a long arm out toward the sheepskin rug near the fireplace.

His voice changes, becoming lower and more commanding. “Get on your hands and knees and position for me. You know the rules. Don’t disappoint me by breaking them, girl.”

I lower myself down onto the fluffy, ivory body-length rug. I glance over my shoulder again and bat my eyelashes. “I’ll behave, Sir.”

“There’s my good girl.” He gives me a curt nod before turning to stride into the bathroom.

Mmm … something about the way he speaks to me in that knowing Dom voice makes heat uncurl deep within my belly.

The water begins to splash in the shower and I imagine him cleaning himself, strong hands running across his tight, manly frame. I desperately want to touch myself, just a light swipe. My hand is only a few feet from my spread legs …. Could I chance it? I put all my weight onto my knees and my left palm while secretly letting my right hand glide back to that needy, pulsing area. I’m just about to allow myself a little touch when a small voice deep within me warns me to stop. No, he’ll know ….

I slap my palm back onto the fur, frustrated beyond measure with having to wait. Yet isn’t it the anticipation that makes it all worthwhile? With that thought in mind, I hear the shower turn off. My breathing grows more rapid.

Turning my head at the sound of his footsteps, I feel my jaw drop at the stunning sight. Water trickles from his dark hair down his tanned wall of a chest. He is buck naked and that perfect shaft is eager for action, jutting intently out before him, thick and veined, beautiful …. I suck in a shaky breath, hoping that I can once again accommodate him with ease and grace. When he’s sheathed within me it’s absolute perfection.

“Good girl, staying put for your master. Hold your position for me.”

I dip my chin in response and listen as his feet pad across the warm slate floor. The sound dies away as he enters the living room. I’m not made to wait long. He returns inside of a minute with something that is gently clinking in his hand.

I glance back to see what it is as my heart beats like a jackhammer in my chest.

Whoa. Handcuffs.

My eyes go wide as he says, “Oh yeah, petal. I do love you restrained for me, girl.”

I’m unable to control the needy pulsing that rages within my core. Everything that we do together is so right. If someone would have bet me a month ago that I would like being handcuffed during sex I would have laughed my head off. But now, with Judge, it’s so hot, so undeniably luscious.

He crouches down behind me onto the dense rug and commands, “Lean down and place your left cheek onto the fur.” I quickly comply. “Good. Now pull your wrists back to rest above your sweet, whipped red ass.”

Allowing my shoulders to hold my weight, I do as he asks.

“That’s right. Excellent, petal. I’m going to cuff you now, sugar.”

Mmm … I crave his dark play. My body begins to quiver with excitement as the cool metal of the cuffs snick closed, rendering me helpless for his depraved use.

“Goddamn, girl, you look so fucking irresistible that my control is stretched as tight as a zip line. I bet that greedy little cunt of yours is drenched as well. Should I check?”

I wiggle my ass back and forth, teasing him.

“Oooh!” A harsh, cracking slap hits my bottom, raising sparks of pain. “You know better than to misbehave, girl.”

“Y-yes, Sir,” I whisper.

My stinging cheeks are pulled apart and my teeth sink into my lip in total embarrassment.

The hot swipe of a tongue passes over my tender little ass and I gasp out loud. Ignoring my reaction, he continues on with his quest to plunder my ass ring with that oh-so-wet tip. Sweat breaks out on my forehead and I groan as the throbbing mounts. My body is longing for release. I know that I can’t beg. He would only stop and punish me.

When I’m slippery wet, Judge slowly allows the tip of his index finger to rest at the little pink entrance to my ass. In a deep tone I’m told, “I know how much you’ve come to love this, baby. I’ll be generous and allow you to bump back onto my finger, petal. Show me the rhythm you like.”

My cheeks heat in embarrassment as I look back to meet his serious yet lusty gaze. I can’t bear it, the need to come is too strong. I slowly begin a rocking motion on my knees as his index finger glides in and out of my tight back passage. Soft moans cut through the warm air and I’m vaguely aware that I’m making the sounds, which blend with his raspy breath. He has such control. How in the hell does he do it?

A tight voice says, “Fucking hell, Valla, you’re unbelievable. The best I’ve ever had, my little beauty.”

The compliment makes me proud.

“I can’t wait any longer. You’re testing my limits, girl. Spread your knees out wider.” I wiggle them out farther while still rocking, needing his finger inside me. “Yeah, that’s so it. Take a deep breath, sweetheart, because this is gonna be a rough fucking ride.”

“Judge!” I cry out in pleasure as he pulls his finger out, only to replace it with his thumb right before his wide shaft slams into my dripping pussy with one forceful shove. I begin to shake, instantly pushed to the precipice of orgasm. I widen my knees to take everything he has to offer. All my nerve endings are on overload. A rough growl erupts from his throat as he starts to move, quickly increasing the punishing rhythm to a savage tempo.

“Give it up now, girl. Let me hear you scream it loud for me!” His shout sets my neck hairs on end with its violent undertones.

The thumb in my ass is removed and just as he reaches forward to flick once over my engorged clit I explode beneath him, writhing and crying out in absolute bliss. My body shudders violently as the strong waves of my orgasm undulate through my pussy. With one palm he grips my hip tightly and doesn’t miss a beat as his brutal thrusts intensify, his tight stomach and hips slapping hard against my sore, round ass cheeks. In a daze of ecstasy I hear his pained moan of pleasure cut through the bedroom. His shaft jerks twice, hot cum pouring forth as he remains buried inside me.

We both collapse simultaneously onto our sides, facing the warmth of the fire. Relaxed after our mind-bending encounter, neither of us speaks. We are content to listen to each other’s strained breathing.

I’m uncertain of how much time has passed, but it must have been a while, because the logs are now reduced to red coals. He sits up behind me and begins to undo my cuffs. Just as they are slipped from my wrists I tell him quietly, “I’ve made my decision. I want to stay here with you, Judge. I want to be your submissive.”

He turns me over gently to face him as his mouth hovers an inch from mine. “That makes me happy, petal, because I would have had a hell of a time letting you go.”

Chapter Twelve

***

Rigid Rules

After a divine afternoon meal of grilled salmon and sautéed vegetables accompanied by another delectable red wine, we’ve decided to play a game of strip Monopoly in front of the roaring living room fire. Apparently Mr. Brocan Judge is a real estate mogul because he holds the majority of the properties along with most of my clothing! Ugh, utterly and completely frustrating. However, being the tenacious vixen that I am, I still have a lot of fight left in me.

I throw out in a sassy tone, “May I at least have a throw blanket or something?” Sitting in only my panties while literally losing my shirt in Monopoly is a bit embarrassing.

He gives a short chuckle. “And ruin the view I’ve worked so hard to win? I think not, pretty petal.”

I tighten my eyes and he breaks into a full-blown, hearty laugh. Cocky, hot man!

“C’mere, petal, I have a brilliant idea. Let’s both get stark naked and take in the view from the hot tub. How does that sound?”

“Better. It’s safe to say you smoked me at the game. Congratulations.”

I tilt my head to savor the sight of him as he undresses.

Bending to tug his jeans off each foot, he glances up at me. “You put up a hell of a fight though, petal.”

That naughty grin of his is my undoing.

“Let me just refill our wine and we’ll be on our way.” As he crosses to the kitchen, I admire both his sculpted, bare ass and the artwork on his walls. There are only three pieces, and each has been given its own wall. They are all large landscape oils that appear to have been created by the same artist. One is a mountain scene and the other two are done from the perspective of the rocky cliffs overlooking the ocean. All three are highly abstracted, with the dominant color being a stunning shade of bright turquoise used for either the sky or water, depending on the piece. Intense black paint was used to paint the land in the forefront. They are unique and uncommonly beautiful.

Judge has returned, holding two glasses of red wine.

“Who is this artist?” I nod in the direction of my favorite, a mesmerizing ocean scene.

“His name is Dean Corbett. He’s a native. Paints not too far from here, actually. What do you think?”

“I adore it. His placement is impeccable. I’m unfamiliar with his work, though. Do you know him?”

“Hell, yeah, had a pint with him at one of his recent shows. Top bloke. He’s an excellent artist, in my opinion. I plan on buying a few more pieces for my office. Maybe you can help me pick them out?”

“Yes, I’d love that. I’ll have to check out more of his pieces online.”

“Bit later, petal. There is a seat with a view in the hot tub with your name on it. Move it now, girl.”

I laugh as he lands a firm swat on my sensitive ass, urging me along. He opens the door to the deck and we quickly make our way to the steaming water. “I hope that seat happens to be on your sexy lap, Judge.”

“You know it. C’mere, baby.”

I do just that and melt blissfully into his strong, toned arms.

As wide snowflakes begin to fall from the sky, he says in a serious voice, “Need to get this crazed situation well sorted, and soon, petal.”

I shift around to stare into his face. “You mean the police?”

He stares off into the distance. “Yeah. I flicked on the telly while you were out cold the other night. There’s a massive manhunt going on right now for you, Valla.”

Of course there is …. Damn!

“Oh, shit. What do you suggest we do about it? I need to get word to my group. It’s unfair that they should be left worrying about me. Guy and Mick are first rate guys, and I’m sure they feel responsible. It’s bound to make their business look bad, if they’re losing tourists.”

“Tane offered to take the heat for me, but I’m not gonna let that happen. I think I should come forward and say that I kidnapped you. After all, I have been holding you here at my home, Valla. Nobody would understand if we explained what transpired. I should just come clean and face the music.”

“No. No, you can’t do that, Judge. It will mess your life up beyond all reason. You’ll undoubtedly go to jail and probably lose your business in the process. No, there has to be another solution.”

I fall silent, trying to come up with something remotely plausible.

An idea comes to mind. “Wait, why don’t you drop me in some nearby town and I’ll walk into the police station and say that I escaped from a whack job abductor. Give me a bit of time and I’m certain I can come up with a convincing story. You can help with the believability factor. What choice would they have other than to believe me? Then you and your friend could stay out of it completely. All right?”

He can tell that I’m frightened of what could happen to him. He strokes my upper arms reassuringly and kisses my hair.

“Everything will get sorted out, petal. Don’t worry your pretty head about it, girl. Now tell me, what do you want after this mess is cleared up? How do you see your life with me? I assume you still want what’s between us. Am I right?”

I lean my head down to rest against his chest. Running my index finger across his shoulder, I answer quietly, “Yes. I want us to have a chance. To have a life together, not only as Dom and sub, but more ….”

His fingers on my chin tilt my face up so that my eyes meet his. Those cobalt eyes dance with fire as he says, “That’s what I want, Valla. Stay with me, be mine. I’ll take care of you, baby. Nothing will ever harm you. And rest assured, we’ll be equals. I live here when I have downtime but I also have a home about an hour south of here, near one of the mines. We can split our time between both, if that suits you?”

My heart fills with an unnamed emotion as I wrap my fingers around his warm wrist. “That sounds perfect, Judge.”

He smiles, flashing those meticulous teeth, and adds, “If you want to keep yourself busy and work, fine by me. I can call up a few mates in the art world and have you sorted with a choice position in no time, all right?”

“I like to keep active, so I’ll have to take you up on that. What about a work visa?”

His glistening face lowers, and he whispers against my ear, “You let me worry about the details, petal. Now, I’m ready to take you in this hot tub. Swing that long leg on over and straddle me, girl.”

The husky drop in his voice has an immediate, intense effect: my nipples harden, my heart rate escalates, and between my legs, my core throbs to life. Oh yeah, I’m one lucky woman.

Knowing that any hesitation can and will cost me dearly, I scramble to position and reply, “Yes, Sir.”

Not certain if he wants me to come down onto him just yet, I kneel on the seat in the heavenly water, legs spread wide and hovering just above his swollen, eager cock. I await further instructions and pray that he won’t tease me too much. I’m already fighting the urge to slam down onto his perfect length. Please, let me find some self-control here ….

His wide palms span my waist right at the base of my ribs and, ever so slowly, he brings me down onto him, inch by inch, in a steady, methodical rhythm. In this prone position I can’t help but feel utterly taken, having given myself over to Judge.

Soon he’s seated so deeply that I shift my weight from side to side in an effort to adjust to his excessive width. I catch those watchful eyes narrow a second before my right bud is pinched to the point of cruelty.

“Ow!”

Ignoring my cry, he asks, “Did I tell you to move yet, girl?”

“N-no, Sir. You didn’t.”

His thumb and index finger remain clamped on my nipple. I breathe in measured, steady pulls to quell the pointed pain.

“Then why did you, hmm?”

“I, Sir … I was only trying to adjust to you. Because you’re very, well, you’re so huge inside me, Sir.” My face turns crimson and I turn away in embarrassment.

The chilling control in his voice stuns me as he whispers, “Don’t you look away from me.”

Instantly, my face swings back to his. The helpless feeling of being both impaled and contained is shocking.

“I set the rules and you follow them, petal. Don’t forget it, little sub.”

“Of course. I’m sorry, Sir.”

“That’s better.”

My tortured bud is released and I moan in relief.

“Put your arms around my neck and do not let go. I’m going to fuck that silky pussy of yours until you can’t think of disobeying me again. Hold on, petal; you’re in for a rough ride.”

I whimper as his wide hands lock down onto my hips and he launches into a brutal, punishing pace.

“Oh … ah, God! Yes! Sir!”

Those ripped biceps are so strong. I watch, mesmerized, as they flex and strain. He wrenches me up and down his impossible length, filling my so deeply that I can’t believe I’ve ever lived without this monumental pleasure.

A steady, constant sound like a warning growl emanates from his glistening chest as he continues his rampant assault on my body. Warm water sloshes around us and suddenly he hits the perfect angle and I scream out. The rushing orgasm is so shattering that I can only allow it to take over as I clench around the perfect cock that wrought it out of me. I’m in a free-fall of bliss, heavenly … unreal.

His harsh voice grinds out through clenched teeth, “So. Fucking. Perfect. Fuck. Love that cunt. Fuck, Valla!” I watch his features tighten as he comes hard within my pussy. His face is a magnificent mask of unfettered lust.

His head pitches forward to nuzzle against my wet chest as we hold each other tightly, both struggling to calm our rapid breathing.

Long moments pass before he places both palms on either side of my face, gently lowering it to within inches of his.

“Thank you, Valla.”

I whisper, “For what, Sir?”

“For filling the dark hole in my lonely heart.”

My eyes fill with tears that quickly begin to flow down my face, mingling with the droplets of perspiration and water.

“Judge, oh, Judge. I— I feel the same about you.” I pull him forward the last few remaining inches. Our lips press together in an all-consuming kiss that soon turns hungry and aggressive. I follow his lead as he hardens within me and, without asking, turns me around so my palms are gripping the side of the hot tub. He takes what he wants once again.

Chapter Thirteen

***

Release

I wake up early the next morning, unable to sleep any longer, and find Judge cooking breakfast in the kitchen. As I sit down at the bar, dressed only in one of his oversized shirts, he places a plate of scrambled eggs and crispy, fried potatoes in front of me.

“Sleep okay, petal?” he asks as he sits down on the stool beside me.

“Yes. Your bed is so soft it’s hard to get up.” I take a bite of the yummy, fluffy eggs before asking, “Are we going to talk to the police today? Probably better to get it over with as soon as possible.”

Judge gives me a guarded look. “Thought maybe we could do that tomorrow. Give us a little time to get our story straight.”

I bite back my answer, instead placing more eggs in my mouth. We eat in tense silence as I ponder what must be happening—all the people looking for me. Surely he realizes how serious this is?

After a few minutes, I change the subject. “Would you happen to have something, anything really, that I could wear to work out in?”

I watch Judge lean his elbow onto the granite bar and cock an eyebrow. “Fuck me! I must not be doing a good job of wearing you out, my sweet. You seriously wanna hit the gym after that hot as balls session last night?”

My lips twitch, threatening to break into a full smile. How can he be so smoldering hot, dressed casually in a pair of worn jeans and a charcoal gray sweater? “Yeah, I need to release some of this extra energy.”

Looking a bit disappointed, he casts his eyes toward the window.

“Hey, are you kidding? The sex we’ve had has been unreal. I mean never, ever could I have imagined it could be this deep, this emotional between a man and a woman. I never knew because I wasn’t aware that someone of your magnitude existed in the world. The exercise isn’t for fitness, Judge, it’s to throw off all this mental stress that I have going on. Also, I’m not used to being indoors this much. Remember, I’m from a town where the average temperature is a warm seventy-five degrees. We do everything outside. C’mon downstairs and keep me company.”

My explanation seems to ease his doubts because he slides off the stool and moves in close, stopping just inches from me. His broad, muscled chest nearly brushes up against mine as he says, “Think I’m starting to come around to this idea, watchin’ your fine ass move on one of my machines, gettin’ all hot and sweaty. Mmm, fuck, think I’ll have to join you. Work out a bit of energy myself, and after ….”

His voice trails off as his palm runs up my bare leg, stopping tantalizingly close to my panties. Shivers of lust shoot to my core as my nipples harden into little pebbles.

“I’ll just grab us something to put on, although the view would be far more fucking brilliant with you bare-ass naked, petal. Hmm?”

“Keep dreamin’, big guy.” I playfully smack his ripped left bicep. “You know, I’m starting to think that you have a filthy, dirty mind, always in the gutter.” I tilt my head before adding, “Am I wrong?”

“Shit no, woman. You’re spot on. But … careful where you step. I expect courtesy from you, always.”

He’s fighting a losing battle as a stifled laugh threatens to erupt from his pressed lips.

“Mmhmm. I see how it is, ‘Sir.’ ”

“That’s right, petal. I love it when you’re oh-so respectful to me.” His arms entwine across his chest. “And you know what happens when you misbehave.”

I hop down off the stool and pivot on a bare heel, not wanting to reward him with the smile spreading across my face. “But sometimes being naughty is more fun. See ya downstairs.”

“Yep, wouldn’t miss it for the world, darlin’ ”

***

His tee is so huge that I had to hike it up and knot it at the back. The shorts had to be rolled four times and safety-pinned at the waistband, but somehow I’ve made it work. I glide along on the elliptical machine, enjoying the smooth movements and the snowy mountain view. My feet are bare but the twin platforms are thankfully fairly smooth. It feels good to cruise along. Relaxing, actually.

“Yep, just like that, petal. What a bloody brilliant view! So fuckin’ glad you decided to have a go on that machine. Great angle, darlin’.”

I look to my left and say, “Yeah, that was my exact goal, big guy, to turn you on while working out. Ugh, men!” I shake my head in mock disgust.

But I also can’t help but admire him as he pulls a hefty set of black weights down from a long bar. His arms are spread out wide and the steel cable comes down toward the back of his neck, working those delicious muscles over and over. He makes it look almost effortless. He isn’t even out of breath as he converses with me. Amazing.

“Hey, let you in on a little secret, my sweet.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, please do, I’m waiting with bated breath here.” I let the smooth momentum of the machine take over, swinging my arms to and fro.

“There’s not a straight bloke on the planet who wouldn’t enjoy eyeing his lady while she works out. Gives us an incentive as well as devious ideas.”

“I have to admit, Judge, you’ll be a difficult one to forget.”

I jerk back as the heavy weights are suddenly let go, slamming down with a loud clank that echoes through the space. My movements slow involuntarily as he gets up and stalks toward me. With his muscled arms exposed and his body covered in sweat he looks wild, dangerous. I know he would never hurt me, though. I stop the machine just as he reaches me.

“Why would you say that?” he asks.

“What, that you will be difficult to forget?”

He nods once, looking unhappy.

“Well, because I realize it would be difficult to make this work between us, even without the kidnapping bringing it to an entirely new level. Right now, it’s bottoming out at quite close to impossible. The police are going to want answers. We’re just delaying the inevitable.”

“I disagree. I’m going to show you how it can work. You told me that you wanted to be with me, to live here. That’s within reach. Don’t ever doubt that fact. Stay with me for two more days, Valla. That’s all I ask. Say you will. I want that time with you, willingly.”

I look away because his blazing, earnest stare threatens to unnerve me. His hands are planted on both hips as he stands right next to my elevated position. We are at eye level as I whisper, “Judge, I— I have to go back. This isn’t right. My group—”

He cuts me off, “I know, baby. But I’m a selfish bastard. I can’t let you go just yet. Please, I’ve never fucking begged for anything, but I am begging now. Don’t leave me just yet. I refuse to take no for an answer.”

I slowly step down off the machine to stand before him. Taking his hand in mine, I stare up into his face. “Shh, let’s not talk about all this right now.” I tug on his arm, pulling him down to my level as I whisper into his ear. “Take me. I want you to fuck me right now, here in this room. I’ve thought about it and I want it now. Rough.” Blushing at the last word, I stare down at my bare feet, wondering what he thinks of my unsubmissive behavior.

Inside of a second he yanks the T-shirt off my body and tugs my shorts harshly down my legs. Before I can blink, he grips my upper arm and marches me over to a red leather weight bench. Wordlessly, I’m pushed down onto my back. I watch, wide-eyed, as he makes quick work of his few items of clothing.

“Spread those legs wide, baby, wanna see that sweet pussy.” His voice is a scary growl that sends a thrill through me. The dangerous strength of his body is apparent in the well-lit room. Heat blazes through my core at the thought of his skill, his domination.

I open my thighs wide, and Judge’s grunt of approval lets me know that this is exactly what he wants. He straddles the width of the twelve-inch flat bench as he descends on me.

“Throw your arms around my neck.”

Immediately I obey, latching my forearms around his slick neck.

His eyes are hard as he says, “Your response should be?”

In a breathy whisper I reply, “Y-yes, Sir.”

“Brace yourself, girl.”

Without warning he pummels his entire length deep into my dripping pussy.

“Ugh, oh, oh, Judge … Sir!” The fullness is overwhelming. The feeling of pressure is so intense, it teeters on pain. And then he moves ….

I see his ripped stomach tighten as his hips swing back, only to slam forward into me. I gasp at the impact but only have a second to adjust before the pounding rhythm increases in tempo. I’m astounded by his strength and ferocity. His hands are planted behind my head on the bench and he’s holding his body just off mine in a lifted plank. His body is an animated work of art.

“Yeah. Yeah. Take my cock, baby, take it deep for me! Reach down and finger that clit, girl.”

His guttural voice and arrogant words urging me on, I snake my arm down between our wet bodies. My hand starts to shake as I find that perfect spot and rub intently, desperate to relieve the torturous ache.

He grits through his teeth, as if he is trying to keep some semblance of control, “Yeah, that’s right. Good girl. Wanna feel that cunt clamp down nice and tight. Give it up to me, petal.”

I detonate, and the violent spasms surge through me like a live wire. I’m barely aware that I’m screaming out in primal pleasure.

He lowers his frame down, giving me his delicious weight. The heaving thrusts are hard and violent now as he continues to lay into me, the force just shy of brutal. With my channel still fluttering, I throw my arm back around his neck to keep us both from toppling over onto the hard ground.

The swing of his hips increases, jerking us both back with each deep connection. I’m gasping for air when he thrusts to the hilt, stilling completely before yelling out, “Valla, oh fuck!”

I clutch his shoulders as pleasure washes through me. For this moment, I can let go. I can stop the questions that are swirling about our complex situation. For this moment, we belong to each other and that’s all that really matters.

Chapter Fourteen

***

Hidden Secrets

I step out of the cavernous shower and search for a clean, cozy shirt to pull on. We’re going to have to go shopping at some point. My one outfit is going to wear out quickly. I’ve washed it twice but I definitely long to put on something else.

Judge told me minutes earlier that he had several work related emails to attend to on his laptop and that he would be in the library if I needed anything. Rather than interrupt him, I decide to look for something to wear on my own. The top drawer of the tall carved dresser contains only his socks and underwear. I decide to pull on a pair of soft black cashmere socks that feel like heaven. I hit the jackpot on the second drawer and flip through the neatly folded stacks of shirts, hoping to find one that might pass for feminine. Dark blue, gray, and black are the most prevalent colors in his drawers. All of which suit him to perfection.

That’s when I see them, tucked between two shirts at the bottom of the pile. A small stack of ivory colored envelopes stands out in stark contrast against his clothing. I know I shouldn’t spy; I should grab a shirt and shut the damn drawer. However, the feminine black script beckons my curiosity. I slowly pull them out and run my fingers across the fine linen grain of the stationery.

I really should not be doing this … yet perhaps this is something I need to see, something of consequence? Like a downhill skier poised at the gate, I can’t help but spring forward as it opens. I can’t stop. I have to look.

There is no return address, just his name and what I assume is his home address. I scan the six envelopes and search for the most recent date. It is on the top, as they are arranged neatly in order. My palms break out in a cold sweat as I place the others on top of the dresser. I pull the single page letter from its envelope and begin to read:

Judge—

I beg you, Sir, please return my calls and letters. It has been over three months now and I’m losing my sanity without you. How could you have turned me into this person? You wanted me submissive and it seems like the moment I fully gave myself over to you in both body and mind, you cut me loose. I regret the fact that I asked you to be my full-time master, to punish me in the way I truly need. I think I drove you away. I’m sorry, please give me another chance. I need the discipline and pain that only you can give me, Sir. Please, please let me come back to be yours alone.

Your sweet girl,

—Juliana

I drop the letter to the floor and feel a wave of nausea roll through me. I can’t think; my heart is pounding too hard and roars inside my ears.

Thoughts whirl in my mind. How many times has he had submissives? Could it really be a sick game of wills? Does he long for strong women, only to see if he can wear them down and bend them to his relentless will, only to turn them away in the end, weakened and nearly destroyed? There is no way he could have faked his level of emotion with me … unless he is some sort of master at it. I can’t even begin to decipher all this right now. Oh fuck! Oh, God!

I’m not aware of my actions, only the desperate need to get the hell out of here. I’ll hike the three miles down this fucking mountain to get away from his mind games. There is no way on earth that I’ll ever end up twisted like that poor, pathetic woman! No, I would much rather face a life of solitude than that hot mess.

I rip my clothing off the hangers in the closet and stab my legs into my jeans, furious determination burning in my blood. Once I tug both my sweater and boots on, I fly out of the bedroom and bound down the stairs to the exercise room where the coats are located. The only thought bouncing around in my skull is to get the hell away from here, from him, as fast as humanly possible.

Reaching the coats in a blur of movement, I grab the hooded parka and slip it on. I have no idea how long it will take to make it the three miles or so down to my freedom, but I must get away while I can. I’m trembling with humiliation and have a hard time with the zipper. How many women has he charmed, and how many have called him ‘Sir’? Ugh!

Silent tears make tracks down my cheeks as somehow I manage to gather the courage to do what I must. Could there ever be a more screwed up ‘relationship’ on the planet? I’m having my doubts. God damn it! I just have to get out of here!

I know it’s now or never. He has the car keys locked away somewhere because I haven’t seen them since I wrecked his Rover the other night. He mentioned we are about three miles from the closest intersection, but his nearest neighbor is just over a mile away. He also told me that homes in this area are mostly holiday or second homes. I can’t risk trying to find that neighbor’s house. I have to head straight down the road to the intersection. That’s my best bet.

I type in the code and hear a warning ‘beep beep beep’. Damn it to hell! He reset the code. Of course he would! I have little time. Like a time bomb, the alarm is about to go off. I need to get my tail moving and hide somewhere before I’m snared … again. Undoubtedly he will have some perfect excuse for the letters, but at this point I don’t want to hear any of it. He’s too convincing and I can’t fall for his easy charm.

Frantically, I throw the door open wide and flee toward the road. A fresh layer of snow covers the ground and it is hard to make out where the yard ends and the road begins.

“Valla!”

He calls from a distance, maybe from one of the upper decks. I don’t turn to acknowledge him, I just keep going.

As I begin to run, I’m shocked by how cold the air is out here. I nearly turn back in self-preservation, but my anger and embarrassment reign supreme. My boots slip every few feet, causing me to stumble and slow down.

Once I finally get my breathing under control, I pull my left hand out of the warm down pocket and bring it to my face, stunned to feel chilly, wet tears tracking relentlessly down my cheeks. My heart is twisted into a knot in my chest as an inner voice berates my actions.

You care for him, don’t do this! There has to be some sort of explanation!

I have to get a grip and move on. I swallow convulsively while struggling to control the sobs that rack me. I attempt a slow, measured jog and become lost in my heartbreak, hardly able to focus on the task at hand as I trudge forward on the snowy path.

The alarm is wailing from the house behind me. It is so shrill that it cuts through the quiet forest like a knife through play dough. Without a doubt he’s going to head down after me.

Turning, I see that the house is still in my line of vision, yet there isn’t any sign of him. Looking toward the impenetrable forest, I see a grouping of dense trees and decide to head for them.

That’s when I hear it. It’s louder than the alarm because it’s much closer, but it rumbles so low and lethal that it locks me in place, frozen in abject terror.

“Rrrrrraaawwww!”

Oh no. God, no!

Heaven help me. Mick warned us about mountain lions in the wild!

My head whips to the left, locking eyes with the animal emitting that blood curdling bellow. It’s about thirty feet away and poised in a low crouch near the tree line. Its snarl is so fearsome, so deadly that it sends adrenaline surging through my system. Every muscle in its powerful frame is strung tight with contained aggression. It’s ready to strike.

I scan the grayish tan colored fur, frantically looking for a potential weak spot. As if I could ever fight it. The only sensitive spot would be its eyes, and it would maul me before I could ever get to them. It looks as long as Judge is tall and must have at least forty pounds on me. Oh God, I hope that if Judge is coming he is packing a weapon! Maybe I can make it back to the house ….

The big cat is very agitated and glares at me with murderous intent in its creepy, flat yellow eyes. There is no way I would last thirty seconds if it knocked me down and clamped those jaws down on my head! That morbid thought is enough to jar me into action, so I whip around and desperately haul ass, sprinting back up the way I came.

A booming shot rings out in front of me before I can look up. When I do, I see Judge running headlong toward me with his rifle clutched up against his right shoulder. He pauses, feet sliding slightly on the road and briefly looks up from the scope.

“Oh fuck, Valla! Change direction! Now!” he screams out, his voice ringing with sheer terror.

I pivot to the right as if my life depends on it, which it does. I scramble behind a few fat trees and peek around to watch as the ghastly animal begins to close in.

“Shoot!” I scream for all I’m worth just as another loud shot erupts from the rifle.

I watch, horrified, as the unharmed beast suddenly alters his course. With the swift grace of a predator, it lowers its body and begins to race headlong toward Judge.

Judge takes another shot but the road is slick and his boots are sliding around, despite his efforts to steady his aim. It doesn’t connect and he has mere seconds to brace the long rifle out across his broad chest as a slight barrier before the creature leaps at him, knocking him down to the frozen ground with all its strength.

I vaguely hear myself yelling as I run, hell-bent, toward Judge. Why won’t my legs move faster? I feel like I’m in slow motion, and I must reach him quickly. The snarling cat is crazed, trying to get to Judge’s face in an attempt to bite him, claw him, disarm him. I’m petrified.

Almost there, run faster, he needs you, Valla!

Judge loses his hold on the rife and in pure self-defense begins savagely punching the cat in the face over and over again. It rears back in pain from a successful blow to the nose but it is only stalled for a second. It shifts position and bites down in a maniacal grip onto his upper left leg. Judge howls in agony as the savage attack continues.

Knowing that until this trip I’ve never seen, much less held, a gun, I gather false bravado and grab the rifle from the snow where it was flung seconds before. Crimson red blood paints the pristine snow in Jackson Pollock-like splatters all around him. Judge is screaming in pain and begins to shout loudly at me, but I can’t hear a word he is saying. I must kill the aggressor ….

I lift the hefty rifle and aim it toward the cat, whose massive head has now turned to me, though it still pins Judge beneath it. Its ears are flattened back and with its bloody fangs bared, the thing looks evil, like a demon that came right out of a dark, dank pit. I take a shot and hit it in its side. The force of the unexpected recoil knocks me off balance, but I recover. The cat bellows in pain and rolls off Judge. It quickly attempts to right itself as Judge screams at me to run for it. I ignore his warning and aim once again, thinking there is no way this beast is going to take Judge from me. With his level of injury, the cat could still drag him off into the forest. No fucking way! Before I get another shot off, it gives up the fight, turns, and stumbles awkwardly away from Judge, disappearing into the dense, snowy wonderland.

I’m unable to look Judge in the eyes. There are no words because I feel such shame for the tragedy that my actions have brought on him. My only thought is to help him, to somehow stop the profuse bleeding.

I tear off my parka and cover him with it, trying my best to keep him warm on the frozen ground. He’s only in a thermal, jeans, and boots and has already begun to shake badly, most likely from shock. There’s no way he can walk the short distance back to the house because blood is pouring out of his wounded leg.

I kneel beside him, and his normally tan coloring suddenly matches the paper-white snow. He tells me in a shaky voice, “Should have warned you about the possibility of mountain lions out here. Held back though, petal. Didn’t want to scare you on our hike together.”

Don’t lose it now, Valla! Stay strong for him!

Pulling off my sweater, I wrap it around his leg in hopes that a tight tourniquet will stem the pronounced bleeding.

He winces at my near nakedness in the freezing cold. “No! You’ll freeze.”

“I won’t lose you.” Steely determination flows though my voice. Our eyes clash as a wealth of conflicting emotions pass between us. I finish tying the sweater tightly around his leg as he cringes in pain. Please, please let this work! I have nothing to bandage his gashed and bleeding hands with, but the wounds don’t appear to be life-threatening.

“Keys,” I demand.

“Jeans pocket.” He gives a strangled moan.

Trying to control my shivering, I reach into his pocket to fish them out. The moment they are in hand I stand and race like a Jamaican sprinter back up the mountain, wearing only a thin camisole and jeans.

In the few minutes it takes to reach the garage, my skin is already tinged blue and the Range Rover must warm up before the interior heating begins to work. I reach Judge in moments but it’s a grueling struggle to get him up and onto the wide backseat. He’s injured so badly and so weakened from the notable blood loss that I have to get his strapping body propped up in a single-leg standing position near the open door and then haul him inside from a kneeling position within the back seat. Thank God he’s still conscious enough to assist.

Once I have him lying on his good side, I’m gasping for breath and I can tell that he’s in agony from the wound. He’s silent, though, in control as always, grinding his teeth. I brush my palm across his cheek right before I jump into the front seat and get the truck in gear.

“Petal ….” He tries to talk but the word is followed by a guttural, jumbled moan.

Doing my very best to sound reassuring, I say, “Shh, rest now, Judge. I’m getting you to the closest hospital. Don’t worry.”

No response.

Once I safely round the next turn, I quickly glance back to see that he’s completely passed out.

Shit, shit!

I hope the Rover has good snow tires because I nearly floor it as I race like a falcon in flight, hell-bent on reaching any sort of medical center.

Hold on, Judge …. Please hold on.

Chapter Fifteen

***

Hurry Up and Wait

After a ten minute free-for-all sprint down the mountain that could rival some Indy Car races though Monaco, I find myself at a lone intersection with one tiny general store. I throw the car into park and race inside. The elderly, female attendant gasps at me in shock. Her reaction is more than justified, since I’m covered in Judge’s blood and wearing only a lacy tank in the middle of winter. I must look deranged.

“Animal attack! Hospital!” I shout out, jarring her out of her locked stance.

A shaky hand reaches out toward the window. “Straight down this road, four miles on the right.”

Wordlessly, I whirl around and fly back to the still-running Rover.

“Miss …?” I hear her frantically call out to me several times as I jump in and throw the truck into gear. Time is running out.

***

Everything is happening so fast now.

“Mountain lion attack!” I shout to anyone at the ER entrance who can possibly help us before I’m even out of the truck. The doctors and assistants come running. They swiftly pull Judge out of the vehicle and onto a long stretcher with steel legs and rolling wheels. He’s still out. They ask me if I’m also hurt and I cringe as I quickly let them know that it’s all his blood. Oh, Judge!

They race him into the operating area and I refuse to let go of his hand. A kind nurse comforts me by wrapping me in a soft blanket. She assures me that the surgeon on call is first rate and will take excellent care of him. I sob uncontrollably, but I finally manage to let go so Judge can be taken care of properly.

Please, I’ll do anything. I’ll be a better person, just please let him make it! Don’t take him away from me!

The waiting is torture. I stare numbly at my feet as I sit inside the tiny waiting room. The second hour comes and goes. Nurses and staff occasionally pass by and give me sympathetic looks, asking if I need anything. Finally the head surgeon comes in. I’m holding my breath and trying in vain to read his impassive face. At the sight of him, I feel the shakes start up again. He’s wearing a white lab coat but his green scrubs underneath it are still noticeably bloody from the operation.

Oh, Judge! What have I done?

“Well, miss, we’ve done all we can for now,” he informs me in a somber tone. What the fuck does that mean? Before I can ask questions he continues, “He’s resting and will hopefully fight off any infection that may occur. We’ve taken that precaution and are pumping him full of antibiotics as we speak. I placed one hundred and ninety-eight stitches in his upper thigh, and as you know he’s one hard-as-nails bloke, very fit. Can’t say that many others would have fared as well as he did with that amount of blood loss. It’s a good thing you knew enough to stem the bleeding and get him to us in time.”

I practically fall to his feet in gratitude. I reach out and grasp his right hand. “Oh, doctor, thank you. Thank you so much!”

He is a kind man, not much taller than myself, with soft, pale blue eyes and dark brown hair liberally specked with gray.With a reserved, almost shy smile he says, “You’re welcome. That’s what I’m here for.”

“May I please see him now?”

“Yes, yes of course.” His brows knit together, and his lips turn down into a slight frown. I’m about to ask him what’s the matter when he adds, “Before you do, there are police here who have been waiting to speak with you. I’ve held them off as long as I can. However, you are the missing American woman from the Kaikoura Beach campground, correct? The one whose image has been flooding the telly all week, right?”

Oh no! Think fast and watch what you say!

In a hesitant voice I begin, “Yes, that’s me, but it’s quite complicated. As you can see, I’m all right.” I glance at my boots in awkward embarrassment.

He gives me a long, perplexed look. “All right, Miss Denier, please follow me then.”

We walk down the hallway of the small hospital and stop at a door leading into what I can only assume is an office or a conference room.

Before I head inside to face the police, the kind surgeon turns to tell me, “Miss Denier, you do understand that he would have died from his injuries had you not acted promptly? You saved Mr. Judge’s life.”

Tears well up in my eyes as I choke out, “Thank you, doctor, but it was my fault he was injured in the first place.”

He softly touches my elbow. “I seriously doubt that, young lady. Take care of yourself now.” With that, he turns and walks down the empty hallway.

Hesitantly, I turn the knob of the door and step inside. The three officers stand stock still, staring at me expectantly. I’m still coated in blood and obviously freaked out.

The one closest to me speaks first in a slow, calm manner. “Miss Denier, please sit.” He’s tall and lanky with cropped red hair and a gray suit. He appears young to be a detective, perhaps in his early thirties. There is something about his watchful stare and slow, measured movements that makes me nervous. I wonder if I could ever get a lie past people that deal with criminals for a living.

I have to at least try.

I pull out the simple padded chair and perch nervously on the edge of it while gripping the seat with my fingers.

I watch him lean closer, casually sitting not three feet away. My heart slams impossibly faster. “Can we get you anything warm to drink?”

I clear my throat. “No, no thank you. I had something earlier.”

“All right then. Let’s begin, shall we?” I watch him reach into his interior breast pocket and flip open a small pad. Black pen in hand, he looks directly into my eyes as he continues, “We are here to speak with you in regards to your abduction five days ago from a camping area at Kaikoura Beach. Would you please confirm for us that you are indeed Valla Denier from Charleston, South Carolina, in the United States of America?”

One of the other officers has a recording device and he moves it closer to me, awaiting my answer.

Here goes everything.

I suck in a shaky breath. “Yes, I am she.”

“Would you please give us a complete statement of what happened to you that night and during the past few days that you have been missing? Every police department in New Zealand has combined their resources to find you, miss.”

Although Judge told me what was going on, it doesn’t truly hit home until now.

I begin by telling them about how I was nabbed that night, giving all the details that I can conjure up from my memory, how I was dragged against my will into the woods and then drugged. However, I change course and decide to fabricate how I encountered Judge. Now I’m cursing the fact that we didn’t solidify our plan earlier. It would have been so much easier if we had just gone to the police when I had wanted to with a pre-planned story. I hope it’s not too late.

Let them believe me.

I soldier on. I sound suitably frightened as I recount the story, but the fear comes from the need to convince them, not the memory itself, as I hope they believe. “I awoke in the back of my abductor’s truck but continued to feign sleep. We drove for a very long time before he pulled into a deserted gas station and went inside, leaving me behind in his truck. I never saw his face. I sat up and pulled the door lock up with my teeth and was able to turn around and use my fingertips to open the back door. I fell out onto the ground. Brocan Judge happened to pull into the station at the same time, nearly running me over in the process. He jumped out of his vehicle and pulled the gag from my mouth as I began frantically pleading with him to get me away from there, that there was a madman inside who had kidnapped me. I was afraid he would kill us both. Judge had seen me earlier that day at a café near Kaikoura. I was hysterical as he picked me up off the ground and locked me safely into his truck; then he went inside to confront my kidnapper. The man must have seen what was happening through the store window and fled on foot. I was on the verge of a full-on panic attack, begging him to get us both out of there, to take us somewhere safe.”

“And what occurred after that?”

“He reluctantly took me to his home on the mountain that night. He said we would head for the police station first thing the next morning. I think he was able to get the plate number—I’m not sure—but as you know a severe storm came that night and we were snowed in for the first three days. You are aware that he lives in a very remote area of Mt. Tasman?”

“Yes, we know this. Why didn’t either of you contact the police by phone?”

“I had no cellphone and he accidentally left the charger for his phone back in his office. I should have emailed; that’s my fault. The satellite dish for the cable was damaged from the wind and ice nearly as soon as I arrived, so we were not aware of the exhaustive search. I had just stepped outside to take a few photos this morning before he drove me into the police station when the mountain lion came after me. He raced to divert it, saving my life.”

With brows drawn, the lead investigator asks in confusion, “So let me get this straight, Brocan Judge is not your abductor?”

With complete confidence, I square my shoulders and say, “Not at all. Actually, he is my savior. He rescued me from a crazed kidnapper and a mountain lion.”

“Do you remember what the man who abducted you looked like? Any distinct facial features or tattoos? Do you know where he was headed with you?”

“I really haven’t a clue. I was drugged, so the time and distance were all a haze to me. I never got a good look at him. He was far taller than me and incredibly powerful. He had a distinct smell, like he smoked cigars or something.”

“Did he say anything at all to you? Was he a New Zealander?”

I lower my head in apparant defeat. “No, I’m sorry detective, he was silent. I was certain that he was going to murder me.”

He looks both confused and frustrated with my vague statement. “We’ll need you to come in today to give us a full formal statement along with any details that you can recall from your abduction, so we can pursue any and all leads. As you can well imagine, Miss Denier, we certainly do not like it when tourists encounter trouble here in New Zealand.”

He gives me a look that announces his skepticism over my story, but to my relief he doesn’t grill me any further. “There is little that can be done now aside from offering you a lift back to the airport after you give us your formal statement. Mr. Brocan Judge is a very upstanding citizen here in New Zealand, a prominent business man as well as a generous contributor to many local charities. So long as he confirms your story, we will begin looking for your abductor. I sincerely hope that he remembered to write that plate number down. It will aid us tremendously.”

“Yes, of course. Anything that I can do to help, detective.” I nearly pass out from relief.

As they follow me out the door, the officer with the recorder says, “The Kiwi media will have a field day with your story, Ms. Denier, so you had better rest up. Once you are ready, Officer James will drive you to our station so you can give a formal statement.” He nods to the third uniformed officer, who observed but remained silent during the meeting.

“I need to make a stop at Brocan Judge’s room first before we go. I’d like to thank him and say goodbye.”

Officer James escorts me there and waits outside for me in the hallway as I make my way into his private recovery room. Our eyes collide as I step inside. I’m relieved that he is conscious and appears to be lucid.

In an exhausted, strained voice he says, “Petal, come here to me, darlin’.”

I’m unable to hold back one second longer, and cross the distance on trembling legs before falling to my knees beside his bed and grasping his outstretched hand. I lower my face to nuzzle against it. Despite my best efforts, the tears begin to track silently down my cheeks. I lift my head and stare into his eyes. “Judge, oh God, I’m so thankful you are alive. Please forgive me for running again. I was so scared …. Not of you, I mean, but of the confusing feelings that have emerged so rapidly between us. I found those letters in your dresser, from another woman, and it made me wonder whether or not what we had was ever special or if it was just another conquest for you, like a challenge. If that is the case you need to tell me. We can part ways amicably, but I deserve to know. I’ve fallen for you and it’s stonger than anything I’ve ever known.” I swipe the tears away with one hand and finish, “I’m so glad you are going to be all right.”

His blue eyes are filled with pain, but I don’t give him time to reply. There is too much at stake beyond our relationship. “Judge, you have to listen to me. The police are here. You have to tell them that you found me at the small gas station near your place, that I fell out of a truck. You may or may not have taken down a plate number, all right? Let’s agree that it was an old, silver SUV. I said that you forgot your charger for your phone and we were snowed in up on the mountain so we could not contact them. I told them that we were headed to give a statement this morning and I was taking a few last minute photographs when the cat attacked. I’m so sorry to put you in this position but it’s the only way they won’t press charges against you or your crazy friend, Tane.”

Those mesmerizing blue eyes never stray from mine as he says, “Shhh, baby, I have an excellent attorney. Don’t worry about anything, darlin’.”

I lean forward to kiss his palm.

“Are you in much pain?”

“Nah, the’ve got me well doped up. Now look at me, baby.”

I tilt my head up.

“You are everything to me now. I can explain the letters you found. It was a brief relationship where one of us wanted, needed more than I could or was willing to give. Her need for pain kept escalating to a point I was not comfortable with. I had to cut her loose. I’ll tell you all about it when my strength is back up and my head is clear. But the fact that you told me you’ve fallen for me seals the deal. There is nothing you can do or say that will change that fact, sweet petal. Stay with me. I love you, Valla. You’re my angel come to life.”

My breath hitches. For once in my life I’m completely and utterly speechless.

Chapter Sixteen

***

Hold Tight

“Here, let’s get your arm around my shoulder before you try to get out.” I do my best to move ever so slowly, not wanting to accidently bump one of his numerous injuries.

“All right, mate? I got you on this side. Just lean most of your weight into me.” Tane handles him with notable care.

It’s stressful to watch him strain to keep his weight on both Tane and I but he absolutely refused to have anything to do with a wheelchair or a walker, even though the physician recommended it.

“That’s it, Judge. Easy there, bro.”

Huffing with effort, he stands on his right leg in the garage, hanging onto us for balance. “Just give me a second.” His chest rises and falls several times before he addresses us again, “All right, I think I’m good to go now. Lead the way.”

“Your mom has all the lights on and your favorite meal is in the oven. That should be an excellent incentive for us to get you upstairs. Take your time, Judge.”

“Ta, petal.”

We slowly make our way into the lower level exercise room and cross to the flight of stairs. It takes five minutes to reach the top. By the time we hit the top step, Judge is clearly exhausted from the effort. We do our best to get him over to the sofa, where he collapses from the exertion. I watch his petite blonde mother flit around him, fluffing pillows beneath his leg and head. She arrived hours after his surgery. The surgeon had a nurse phone her. The three of us have been taking turns at the hospital and Judge’s mountain house for the past four days now, waiting eagerly for him to be released. Although it was awkward to be around Tane at first, I’ve gotten over it.

Judge reaches out to clasp his mother’s small hand in his. “Aw, you’re sweet as, ma.”

She smiles and looks to Tane and I. “Please come sit. I’ve made enough herb roasted lamb for everyone. Darling, you just relax. I’ll fix you a plate.”

“Ta.”

It’s clear that they adore each other. I’ve watched them interact while he was laid up in the hospital. She dotes on him and it’s evident that he holds tremendous respect for the kind, soft-spoken woman. This man has a heart the size of the island he lives on. He would have given his life to save me from that big cat. I love him and have told him so countless times during his four night stay in the hospital. There was a touch-and-go twenty hours following the surgery when a nasty infection began to set in. We are all grateful for strong antibiotics and this man’s naturally powerful immune system.

I had a chance to speak with both Guy and Lana separately by phone. They were very relieved once they found out that I was all right. I didn’t want them to have to lie if the police grilled them, so I decided to tell them the same story I told the police. Eventually, I’ll fess-up to Lana, but it needs to be in person after everything has quieted down. Lana confessed that she and Guy have fallen for each other, and they are going to try out the possibility of a long distance relationship. She is still in New Zealand, having extended her vacation. She and Guy are having a fine time ‘exploring’ each other, from the sound of it.

The police were surprised when I turned down the ride to the airport after the statement I gave at headquarters. I simply told them that I had ‘unfinished business’ to attend to and that I was headed back to the hospital.

Judge calls out to Tane, “Mate, could you grab that bottle of bubbly and bring it on over this way?”

“Right, I’m on it.” Tane lands him with a mischievous grin as Alma hands something to Judge that happens to be just out of my line of sight.

Once the bottle of Cristal is popped open with a fizzy overflow and poured into four slim flutes, Judge calls to me, “C’mere, sweetheart.” His flat palm pats the leather near his hip.

I sit close and gently stroke his hair.

My heart is so full, seeing him back in his mountain home surrounded by those who love him. My decision to stay was not a difficult one. Over the course of the past four days we had much to learn about each other as I held fast by his bedside, keeping him company, reading him books and news articles and encouraging his steady progress.

He explained to me that his six-month relationship with Juliana ended nearly two years ago. He truly cared for her and thought that it was leading to a serious relationship until she began exhibiting unstable behavior, asking him for things that were well off-limits, even in his book. She told him that her prior Doms had no problem giving her the brutal treatment that she asked for and that he should as well. He knew at that point he had to end it rather than risk furthering an unhealthy relationship. He did not consider himself the kind of Dom who could cause lasting injury to a partner, it’s not in his make-up. He broke it off and held onto the letters as protection in case anything awful happened to her. He didn’t want anything to come back to haunt him. He wanted proof that they broke up long ago.

Judge takes a deep breath before saying, his tone serious, “Valla, you are the one true love I didn’t dare hope to find in this world. I promise to be everything you need and more in a husband. Would you please do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Tears spill from my eyes and I blink them away, striving to control my emotions. I thought that the champagne was to celebrate his homecoming, not to toast our engagement. Serenely, I answer the man I’ve come to love. “Oh, Judge,” I whisper, “you’re a dream come true. Of course, I would be honored to marry you.”

A proud, full smile beams across his stubbled face and congratulatory clapping from both Tane and Alma fill the room.

Eyes never leaving mine, he says, “Let me have your left hand, petal.”

I hold it out to him as he reveals an exquisite marquis-shaped diamond resting in an ornate Edwardian setting and slips it onto my trembling finger. It is just a tad loose but nonetheless breathtaking in its impressive size and stunning clarity. Words fail me as I close my fingers around his.

In a clear, proud voice he says, “This ring belonged to my grandmother. It was crafted for her in the Netherlands. I hope you like it.”

“Oh, Judge, thank you,” I say. “Thank you, it’s mesmerizing. I love you so very much. It’s such a relief that you’re all right now. We were all so worried those first few days after the incident. I’m overjoyed that things have worked out the way they did.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, that makes two of us, sweetheart, and that’s exactly why I’m not wasting another second of my life looking back. It’s forward sailing for you and I from now on, petal. We have a beautiful future to get on with, eh, my love?”

A hearty, amused male laugh cuts through the room. Tane calls out, “I’m all on board with that, but let’s curb this sentimental bullshit and get to the toast ’cause I can’t wait to get pissed on this choice champagne!” He raises his glass, his hand dwarfing the delicate crystal as he says in his impossibly deep voice, “A toast! I’m overly stoked for you both, couldn’t imagine a more wicked-awesome couple!” He dips his chin and pins Judge with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Come to think of it, mate, thinking you’re the one who now owes me, because this fine Yank is a choice piece. Hope you have lots of crazy kids I can teach to play rugby. Cheers, you two!”

“Oh, Judge,” Alma calls out in her delicate voice, “I’m over the moon for you and Valla, son. What a wonderful thing. I’m still in awe over how you met. I must say, this is one for the history books, my love. Both of you, congratulations.” She brings two bubbling flutes over to us and we immediately toast and indulge in the crisp, fine champagne.

Judge tugs on my fingers, bringing them up around his smooth neck. Cool eyes roam my face, causing my breath to hitch as he says quietly, “I do believe that I need a kiss from my soon-to-be missus.”

I lean into him and once I’m close, his palm reaches around to cup my head, pulling me into him as his full mouth covers mine in a slow, seductive kiss.

Epilogue

***

Five Months Later

“C’mon, Valla. Come lie in the sun with me.”

I turn away from the sparkling blue water and walk along the edge of the sailboat toward Judge. He shades his eyes with a large hand and watches me. I stop five feet away from him and drink in his unique beauty. His lush tan makes him look like a magnificent bronzed god. He’s shirtless, clad only in a pair of low-slung dark cargo shorts. One broad hand rests on his hip and the other is wrapped around the wheel of our boat.

We’ve spent the past several days floating around the South Pacific, soaking in the sun and relaxing. The calm water and glowing sun have been a wonderful break from the cool mountain air at the cabin. After Judge’s injury, we spent quite a bit of time there while he recovered. Even though we’ve moved into his home in the city, the cabin is still one of my favorite places and we visit often.

Wordlessly he strides over and grabs me by the waist, pulling me against his warm, honed body while untying the top of my red string bikini. It falls to the teak floor.

“Baby, hey!” With narrowed eyes, I feign annoyance, “Slick, real slick, you bad boy. Are you certain we have time for this? Lana and Guy will be at the mountain house to meet us in a few hours. Shouldn’t we be heading back? We have a lot to do before they arrive for the weekend.”

Staring down into my wide eyes, he says in his low, vibrating voice, “Bad boy, eh? Actually, the way I recall it, petal, it was you who sang to me about being a very bad girl that first night. Isn’t that right?”

His cool gaze dares me to challenge his statement. I swallow hard before nodding in agreement as a soft tremble works its way through my body. The all-too-familiar ache deep within my core is ramping up to manic levels and I know it can only be assuaged by his touch. I’m so eager that I can’t disguise it. He has such a potent effect on me.

With one arm wrapped tightly about my waist, he twists us around so that his back is leaning against the polished rail. I’m pressed against the heated expanse of his chest, my palms flat against his skin.

“You know how I feel about that sassy mouth of yours, woman.” He leans in close and nips at my neck. My body tenses in anticipation. This is a wicked little game of ours. Sometimes I intentionally provoke him because I crave his dominant touch. “Now, Valla, I expect you to take your punishment gracefully. Understood?”

I nod shyly and try to look away. He catches my chin gently between his strong fingers and pulls my face back to meet his.

I blink up into his handsome, shadowed face. “I understand, Sir.”

A look of satisfaction flares in his eyes. “Good. Now grab a towel, spread it out on the deck, and get down on all fours for me.”

I do as he asks. Inside of a minute I’m down on hands and knees with my legs spread wide, just how Judge likes it. I know what’s coming. I welcome it and relish the perfection of his punishments.

I turn and watch, nearly transfixed as he lazily flips open the four buttons of his shorts. They fall to the floor of the deck, and I’m grateful he’s decided to go commando today.

He kneels down behind me. My eyes slide shut as I wait, anticipating what is to come. The soft hairs on his arms caress mine as he braces himself, hovering over my back. His velvet voice sounds against my ear. “You’re my bad girl. I need to teach you a lesson, isn’t that right?”

I can only manage a whisper. “Oh, Sir, yes. Yes, please.” Every nerve in my body is tingling. The waiting is torment.

“Mmm. Now hold still, girl, and take what’s due.”

I curl my fingers tightly into the soft turquoise beach towel as he leans away. His hand clamps onto my neck, locking me in place. It’s a gesture Judge reserves for my harshest spankings, I’ve come to learn. The hip strings on my red bikini are undone and the bottoms are quickly discarded. The build-up threatens to unnerve me. Without delay, he lays into my bare ass. The spanking is so forceful that I can’t help but cry out.

“Ahh, oh!”

Every inch of my behind is smacked over and over, without any break in the swift, punishing rhythm. My lips part and during each brief reprieve I suck in gulps of air. Finally, around swat twenty-five, he is done. The pulsing ache that burns within my saturated pussy is all that remains. A deeply satisfied grunt emanates from his honey-colored chest. “Now flip over and wrap your legs around me, Valla. Give me all your heat, little tigress.”

My pulse spikes as my body responds. A fresh wave of arousal blooms, flowing in a hot torrent through my system. He’s always coming up with sexy little pet names, keeping our play fresh and unpredictable. I know better than to dawdle. The punishment is over. Now comes my reward.

Hell yes, lucky me!

Once I’m flat on my back, I latch onto his neck and twine my tanned legs around his sculpted waist. Judge has fully recovered from the awful incident with the mountain lion. Only the gruesome scar on his leg and several running across his knuckles remain as visual reminders of that frightening day.

Holding me by the shoulders, he lowers himself down onto me. I pant in shallow breaths only inches away from his sculpted lips, letting him know how ready I am. With his right hand, he begins to tease me mercilessly by ever so slowly running his thick shaft against my throbbing, eager folds. I spread my legs wider and beg. “Please, Sir, oh please. I promise to be your good girl. I’ll behave, but I want you now, so badly. Please don’t make me wait.”

His head slowly shakes back and forth, and I nearly groan in frustration as the heat of his thick cock recedes from the entrance to my core. “Demands from my sub? I think not, little petal.” His crystal eyes narrow in both arousal and disapproval.

God, he’s so fucking hot.

Even though I know it’s coming, I still gasp as he brutally pinches first one hardened nipple then the other, tweaking them between his strong thumb and index finger with relentless precision. I whimper beneath him.

Finally the pain ceases. He lowers his dark head to lave his skilled tongue across each alert, rosy bud. I feel dizzy as he drives me wild for his touch. He knows exactly how to push me to my outermost limits. He leans back to study my throbbing breasts, a mischievous, calculated smile on his chiseled face.

Smug man! Wait, who am I kidding? I love it all….

A dark rumble weaves through his rich voice. “You know how much I love it when you’re a good girl and behave for me, Mrs. Judge.”

Oh, do I ever ….

“Now that I’ve set you straight, girl, I believe I’ll continue on with my plan.” His head tilts and a brow arches in question. “That is, unless you want to try and go for another punishment? It’s your call, Valla. ”

He watches me closely as I stammer, “N-no, not at all, Sir. I’m eager to behave for you, really.” Let him know I’m sincere.

With watchful eyes, he dips his chin in a nod. “Good. You’d better prepare, Valla, and it’s a damn good thing that we’re well alone out here because I have every intention of making that pretty voice of yours scream for me.”

My eyes widen in surprise and before I can respond, he grabs my hips and hauls my blazing backside forward. Lifting my hips, he shoves into me with such measured force that there is nothing I can do but take the thick, filling heat. After only two brutal pumps, I’m overrun and begin to convulse around him, involuntarily screaming in mindless pleasure as I am engulfed by waves of euphoria.

As the gripping pulses escalate, he continues thrusting into me, so steady and vigorous. His breath is hot against my ear as he purrs, “That’s right, Valla, scream nice and loud, baby. Give it all to me. God, how I love you.”

* * *

Erotic Romance Author Christine Edwards grew up in the Deep South on Hilton Head Island, SC. At an early age she developed a passion for the arts that led her to earn a bachelor’s degree in Art History from the College of Charleston in South Carolina. Christine has a special place in her heart for reading and writing erotic tales. She continues to publish stories that immerse readers in exotic and realistic geographic settings amid interesting subcultures of adult life.

Within the vein of BDSM romance, her main focus is on loving, multi-faceted relationships involving intense alpha males and feisty heroines. She adores snow skiing, traveling the world, and spending time with her amazing family. Christine currently resides in the sleepy coastal town of Beaufort, SC.

Please visit Christine Online: www.christineedwardsauthor.com

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Table of Contents

- Prologue
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Epilogue