Austin moved behind her, proving her doubts right. When she felt the sting as his hand connected with her flesh, her orgasm retreated for a bit. But as the pain blossomed and she fell into that wonderful subspace, her tremors turned into full-on body quakes of the most intense level. Jessie felt like warm liquid, unable to control her insides, her outsides, her mind, her thoughts, her sensations. And still he spanked her, providing her direction and comfort. Yes, comfort. With Austin, she was free just to be.
She closed her eyes and let the tears brought on by the orgasm stream down from her eyes.
He stopped and kissed her sore backside, so gently. “I love your ass, pet. You did so good.”
“Thank you, Master. I love your discipline.”
“I am your Master then?” he asked.
“Of course.”
“I know what’s best for you.”
“You do, Master.
“Then choose what I tell you to choose, pet. Me.”
She knew he wouldn’t like the answer, but she couldn’t give him what he wanted. “I choose you and your brothers, Master.”
“Damn it, Jessie. You’re the most irritating sub I’ve ever trained.”
“Thank you, Master.”
“You won’t be thanking me for long. I’m going to prove to you that I know what’s best for you if it takes me all night.”
“I understand why you’re doing this, Master.”
He leaned over and captured her left nipple with his mouth. He sucked hard until she was moaning through the wonderful pain.
Austin stepped back, his eyes finding hers. “That’s what you respond to, Jessie. You’re sub through and through. I’ve never known anyone quite like you. We fit. We need to be together.”
“I agree. Let’s be together with your brothers. I want what your mom and dads have. I need it.”
“No, you don’t. You need me.” But his tone had softened slightly.
Was she getting through to him? Jessie thought she might be.
* * * *
Looking at the crime scene added heat to Sheriff Davis’s already growing heartburn. The past few weeks had changed everything for him.
Bandit’s Hideout, Vice, and Wilde were the only towns in Silver County—his county. Despite their names, none got out of hand too much. With only an infrequent bar fight to break up, a few drunks to haul to jail, and some speeding tickets to issue, his job of twenty-four years had typically been a cakewalk. Well, at least it had been until the recent crime spree.
Standing over the chalk outline, he spotted the victim’s blood on the carpets, one wall, the bedspread, and a mirror. The whole scene sickened him. The body had been removed fifteen minutes ago by the county coroner.
Ted Blake, his deputy and the only investigator in the county, wrote frantically on his tablet. At twenty-five, and with only four months on duty, the young officer had been chomping at the bit for some action. Regretfully for Sheriff Davis, the kid had gotten his wish.
Six more years on the job was what the sheriff needed to add enough to his retirement funds and pension to get his dream. He planned on spending his retirement years on the lake with a fishing pole in his hand. That required another election. If he didn’t get the person responsible for the two murders locked up, he could kiss his chance of winning—and future lazy days in his boat—good-bye.
“I better call Carson City.” His looked at his cell and saw that not a single bar was lit. He’d have to wait until he got back to his office to make that call. “We’re going to need help on this one.”
“But, Sheriff, we’ve got this. If the state sends people up, we’ll get pushed to the side.”
“I’m sheriff, Ted. That doesn’t change.” Getting pushed to the side wouldn’t be half bad. “Besides, we don’t have the resources or expertise to catch this killer. There are two people dead already. This isn’t the time for a pissing match, Ted.”
“Yes, sir.” The deputy looked around the room, pointing with his pen, and then jotted down another observation.
“Let’s wrap this up, son.” The kid had fire in his belly, and that actually made him smile. One day, Ted would make one hell of a good sheriff for the county.