Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(73)

And then he pressed, deep, deep inside her, and she could feel his cock jerking as he joined her. “Mmmm.” His hands moved over her, touching, sliding, drawing her orgasm out until she was drowning in pleasure.

When he finally stopped, her head was spinning.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, running his hands over her. “Stay put a moment while I clean up, then I’ll get you free.”

She was still gasping as he opened the pillory and helped her straighten.

Laughing, he caught her when her knees gave out. “Easy, baby.” Gently, he laid her down on the blanket and joined her, pulling her into his arms.

Her head rested on his shoulder, her arm over his waist, her knee over his thighs. She squirmed slightly, trying to get even closer. Under her ear, she could hear the thudding of his heart…slightly faster than normal.

“Okay, pet?” he asked quietly, his hand stroking her damp shoulder and back.

“Yes,” she breathed. And then she womaned-up and gave him the truth. “I’ve never…felt anything like that.”

“Mmm. For a submissive, being pushed adds an extra kick.”

Yes, it had. But that wasn’t…all. Admittedly, she didn’t have much experience, but she’d been with Everett and a couple of men when Carson was a toddler. They’d tried to push her.

Slowly, she inhaled, breathing in Holt’s masculine scent, all man, all strength.

There was being ordered around, and there was really submitting, and that was more emotional than physical. She didn’t submit to men. But because this was Holt, who would take care of her, she’d let him in and lowered her defenses and given him…everything.

And oh, it had been wonderful.

But when he’d been inside her, physically, mentally, spiritually, he’d stolen more than her defenses.

She closed her eyes. Appalled. No. Do not be crazy, mushy, stupid. She hadn’t changed. No, she hadn’t.

Only, each time he stroked her arm or spoke to her in that smoky, firm voice that exuded confidence—every single time—he took more of her into his keeping.

This couldn’t be. Part of her was thrilled at the connection, and the other part inched back, step by step, toward the cave that was her refuge.

A soft gong sounded three times, and Holt sighed. “Z’s closing down the Gardens. We have to get back.”

She started to sit up, and he brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Rest here, sweetheart. I need to clean the equipment, and then we’ll be off.”

“I can help.” Her legs felt weak, but she’d—

His grip on her shoulder tightened, and he lifted her chin with one hand. “What did I say?”

His jaw was stern.

She should know better by now, shouldn’t she? “Um. I’ll stay here. Sir.”

His lips twitched. “Good answer.”





Chapter Fourteen





On Saturday afternoon, the sun bright and hot on his shoulders, Carson steered his bike around a corner. Shifting his backpack to a better position, he pedaled faster to catch up to his friends.

He was kinda sorry they hadn’t stayed at Brandon’s. Since Mom was going to a barbecue, she’d said Carson could spend the whole afternoon with his new friends, which was awesome. Brandon had video games Carson wanted to try.

Turned out Brandon had different plans. They were going to their school.

Carson lifted his head. Brandon was at the front, followed by black-haired Yukio, ginger-haired Ryan, and dark-haired Juan. They sure didn’t look at all alike. Brandon was tallest and, along with Ryan, the most muscular. Juan was short and skinny. Yukio was built like Carson, kinda tall and lean.

But they were all smart and at the top of their classes. Well, except for Ryan who aced everything but couldn’t stop talking and ended up in trouble. Especially with the science teacher who was a sarcastic a-hole.

Brandon had decided the science teacher needed to pay for how he treated Ryan—and Juan, too. He thought a sackful of poop in the classroom would piss off old Jorgeson, especially since the bag might not get found until after Christmas break. Brandon called it a mission.

Carson fell back slightly. A mission was what a superhero would do—which was really cool—only he couldn’t see Spiderman throwing shit through a window. But Ryan and Juan thought Brandon’s plan was fantastic.

Before reaching the middle school, Brandon turned a corner and down a street to the athletic fields so they could approach “the target” from the rear. Quietly. Like spies.

Carson swallowed. This really wasn’t a good idea…

With the others, Carson hid his bike in the bushes near the soccer field and jogged toward the school buildings. Yukio pointed out the security cameras—his family had just put in a home security system—and led them around.

Finally, they came to the building that held Jorgeson’s science classroom.

At Brandon’s gesture, Juan stopped at the end of the sidewalk to keep watch. He was too short to see in the high windows anyway. The rest of them squeezed behind the man-high, sharp-edged palmetto bushes lining the back of the stucco building. Carson hissed as one sharp leaf stabbed his arm.

The classroom should be somewhere in the middle. On tiptoes, Carson peered in a window. The room was dark. “English.” Were they really going to do this? His hands were cold even though sweat made his T-shirt stick to his back.