Page 25 of Snow Bound (Odyssey #1)

She continued to sob, clinging to him with her face buried in his neck. She wanted to tell him she was fine, that she just needed a minute and she’d be just fine. But the tears wouldn’t stop, and after a moment she gave up trying to make them.

Grant held her, stroking her back, her hair, wherever he could reach as guilt and worry twisted his gut.

He hadn’t exactly gone easy, but neither had he whaled on her, and the strength of her reaction baffled and frightened him.

This torrent of emotion seemed to come out of nowhere, and he had a feeling it wasn’t just because she’d forgotten to take her apron off.

Eventually she quieted, her sobs fading into the occasional sniffle, and he reached for the box of tissues he’d tucked into the chair for just this eventuality. “ Here .”

“Thank you.” She took a tissue and wiped her nose, then looked up at him with drenched, swollen eyes. “ I’m sorry.”

Those eyes could break a man’s heart, he thought. “ For what?”

“For breaking the rules.” She sniffed. “ I was calling my mom, and I forgot about the apron. So … I’m sorry.”

“Forgiven,” he said, stroking a finger down her nose, and her tremulous smile lifted his heavy heart.

“I don’t know why I cried like that,” she said with a watery laugh, swiping at her nose with the tissue again. “ I guess I needed it.”

“I guess you did.” Her eyes had gone sad and bleak during her apology, as they often did when she mentioned her mother. “ Did your mom say something to upset you?”

“No.” She sniffed. “ I got her voicemail.”

He wanted to dig deeper—there was something there—but he wasn’t really her Dom , despite their two week agreement, and it really wasn’t his business.

So he simply said, “ Feeling better now?”

She nodded. “ Yes . Thank you.”

“Good. Why don’t you go upstairs and take a bath until dinner’s ready?”

Her eyes lit with pleasure. “ The chicken and dumplings will keep in the crockpot, but the pie needs to come out in about forty minutes."

“I’ll take out the pie,” he told her. “ You go get wrinkled.”

“Okay.” She eased off his lap and moved to the stairs. “ Grant ? Sir ?”

He pulled his gaze from her butt—glowing red—to her face. Her eyes were like liquid chocolate, her smile tremulous. “ Yes ?”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he told her, and didn’t look away until she’d disappeared up the stairs.

* * *

She was grateful that he didn’t seem to expect sex that night, or a scene.

Her emotions felt so raw, so close to the surface that it felt as one well-placed slap or mind blowing orgasm could break the fragile shell she’d managed to forge around herself and she’d shatter into a million pieces.

She went to bed early, pleading exhaustion, and pretended to be asleep when he joined her.

And when she woke in the morning, he was already up and gone.

She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, then tossed back the covers. She only had five days left, dammit, and she’d be dammed if a little crying jag was going to ruin them. And if he thought he was going to spend them avoiding her, well, he could just think again.

She showered, took the time to blow dry her hair, then stomped down the stairs loaded for bear. The living room was empty, but there was a fire roaring in the fireplace, and when she went into the kitchen, a fresh pot of coffee sat waiting.

He’d apparently been and gone. Struggling with disappointment, she went to the fridge and dug out some fruit to mix with granola. Quick , easy, and she didn’t need the apron to make it.

She wasn’t quite ready to put it back on.

When she’d eaten and tidied up, she wandered back into the living room, then stopped short.

Grant had a blanket draped over the coffee table, his toy bag at his feet, and his mouth was curved in a devilish grin. “ Good morning.”

“Um. Hi .”

He crossed the room, leaning down to give her a lingering kiss. “ How are you feeling this morning?”

“Fine,” she said.

“Any lingering emotions from yesterday?”

“Not really.”

One eyebrow went up. “ Not really?”

“I thought you were avoiding me, and that made me mad.”

The second eyebrow joined the first. “ Why would I be avoiding you?”

“I don’t know.” Now she felt silly. “ Because I cried a lot and men don’t like that?”

He laughed, low and delighted. “ Sugar , I’m a Dom . If you’re not crying—or begging— I’m not doing my job.”

“Good grief,” she muttered but she was grinning.

“So, to clarify. You’re feeling good?”

“Yes.”

“Fit?”

Excitement was beginning to simmer. “ Yes .”

He walked behind her. “ Awake and aware?”

She was so aware of him she’d swear her skin was tingling. “ Yes , Sir .”

An arm slid around her from behind. “ You ate breakfast?”

The power of speech momentarily failed her, so she nodded. She could feel the hard ridge of his cock through his jeans as he pressed it against her back. His mouth brushed over the sensitive rim of her ear before he whispered, “ Good . You’ll need your strength. Ask me why, Anna .”

She had to swallow twice to make her voice work. “ Why do I need my strength, Sir ?”

“Because I’m going to fuck your ass.”

Oh, boy.

Grant grinned when she shuddered against him. Her breath had quickened, her nipples were already peaked with arousal. With her hair down he couldn’t quite see her face, but he’d bet a year’s rent that her cheeks were flushed.

Which reminded him. He reached over her shoulder and held out the elastic hair band he’d slipped over his wrist. He saw her fingers lift, then hesitate. “ Braid your hair. I want a handle.”

She swallowed with an audible gulp, but she took the band, gathered the thick mass and followed orders.

He stepped back and knelt to dig into his toy bag, coming up with leather wrist and ankle cuffs, a butt plug—bigger than she was used to—and a wand vibrator—he wanted her so mindless with need that she’d take the discomfort of his dick in her ass eagerly.

Her fingers were moving swiftly despite their trembling, and she was almost finished with the braid. After a moment’s consideration, he snagged the nipple clamps with the long connecting chain. Yes , they would do nicely.

He rose to his feet as she was wrapping the elastic around the end of the braid. It hung down between her shoulder blades, a rope of fire. He stepped up and wrapped it around his hand and her breathing hitched, pleasing him.

“You’re awfully jumpy,” he whispered in her ear and gloried in her answering shiver. “ Nervous ?”

“A little, Sir .” Her voice was barely louder than a whisper, with more than a hint of nerves in it. He wondered if she realized that she only called him Sir when she was feeling submissive.

He slid a hand down her soft belly, between her thighs to her pussy. His finger slid easily over tissue already swollen and slick with need. “ Turned on?”

Her voice was thick with need “ Yes , Sir .”

“Me, too.” He slid two fingers deep, into the tight clasp of her body. “ I can’t wait to see you bent over with my dick between those plump, pretty cheeks.”

Her eyes flared, and her pussy grew wetter under his stroking hand. “ I’m going to make it good for you. I promise. By the time we’re done, you’ll think your ass was made to take my cock.”

He gave her pussy one last lingering stroke, smiling when her hips followed the motion, then stepped back and picked up the cuffs. “ Safewords still work. Use them if you need them.”

Anna’s mind settled as the cuffs slipped around her wrists, her ankles.

The anxiety was still there, simmering just below the surface, but over it was a layer of calm acceptance.

He’d take her how he wanted to, when he wanted to, and she’d let him.

Because she knew he’d take her where she needed to go, and keep her safe while he did.

He brushed a thumb over her jaw, over her lips, then stepped back. “ Lie down, on your back, on the table.”

She climbed on carefully, wincing at the hard wood under her knees, and settled onto her back.

“Knees up, hands at your sides,” he directed and she complied.

He considered her for a moment, then went back to the toy bag and came out with a handful of carabiners.

He clipped three together to form a short chain, then attached one end to the cuff on her right ankle and the other to her right wrist. The extra links gave her enough room to flex her thigh and stretch a little, but not enough to straighten her leg.

“Perfect.” He repeated the steps on her left side, then leaned down and kissed her, tongue stroking, teeth nipping. When he lifted his head, she swiped her tongue out over her lips to gather his taste.

“So pretty,” he murmured, coming back for one last nip. “ I want all your pink parts red and glowing before I’m done.”

She inhaled sharply, drawing his attention to her breasts. He eyed the pink nubs, drawn tight by desire and anticipation. Under his gaze they hardened even more. “ Well , that’s a start,” he rumbled, and bent his head.

Lightning flashed when he suckled strongly, employing lips and tongue and teeth to bring her to aching hardness. Her back arched, her hands pulling mindlessly at her restraints. Sensation rolled through her in waves, and by the time he lifted his head she was panting with need.

He surveyed his work, satisfaction stamped on his face. Her nipple was throbbing, flushed a dark red and damp from his attentions. “ Nice ,” he said, appreciatively. “ But I think you can take more, don’t you?”

She didn’t bother to answer, knowing what was coming, and knowing he’d do what he wanted no matter her answer.

She bit back a groan when he applied the clamp, twisting the screw until the little metal teeth bit into her tender flesh, just this side of cruel.

The roaring in her ears nearly drowned out his hum of satisfaction.

Her blood beat thick and heavy in her veins, the pain like a drug.

The more he gave her, the more she wanted, because the pleasure that came with it was beyond… everything.