Awareness shook him at how aligned they were. She had been struggling to come to the light for two years. Him… five. Sienna Weathers might be just what he needed—a beacon to become the man he used to be.
Chapter Seven
Rawhide Ranch lounge
Sienna
When Sienna opened her eyes, piercing steel-gray irises captured her gaze. Her breath caught. The man she’d been unable to look away from in the lounge was even more devastating up close. Heat radiated from where his hands brushed away her hair and goosebumps rippled across her skin as his presence enveloped her. Afraid her fascination would betray her, she lowered her lashes.
“No. Eyes on me, sub.”
Her body obeyed instinctively, surrendering to his presence without thought as every defense crumbled beneath his dominance. The natural submissive from deep within simply rose to meet him, responding to his power with an intensity that hummed through every cell.
What am I doing?
The question echoed through her mind when she caught herself leaning into his impossibly gentle touch where he remained hunched before her. Her usual barriers lay dormant. Where was the revulsion that normally surfaced when a Domtouched her outside of a scene? That instinct to retreat, to maintain distance was glaringly absent.
Sienna melted into his warmth as his hands moved over her with quiet authority, drawing past her own resistance. His power reached places inside her she'd believed dead long ago, waking needs she'd buried for two years.
How is he doing this to me?
Her own responses made no sense. This man was dangerous, dismantling every rule she'd lived by and broke the boundaries she'd built without effort.
Within minutes, no matter how hard she tried to resist, her body made the decision for her. She yielded to the scene, even while every instinct quietly warned her that wherever direction this was leading to, would be more than she was ready for.
The shivers started the moment his fingers feathered over the scar on her arm. Her breath caught as he continued to trace its length unhurriedly as though the scar were part of her worth knowing.
When he straightened, his absence hit her as a small, unexpected grief, a whimper rising unchecked. Then one finger returned, drawing slow paths across her skin as he circled her. She stayed rooted, not straining to follow his movements. That single point of contact was the only connection keeping her from drifting back into the familiar void.
“Oh.” The gasp escaped unbidden as his palm curved around her bottom in a slow, deliberate squeeze. Electricity raced through nerve endings in a heady flash. She was shocked at the intensity of the heat pooling low in her belly. The sensation was so unexpected and foreign that her mind stumbled over it. Two years of nothing, and now this. A stranger awakening sensation inside her like he'd always known exactly where they were buried.
This makes no sense.
Her mind kept circling back to that. Her body didn’t care as beneath his confident hands, long-buried needs clawed their way to the surface.
His powerful dominance called to the deepest part of her. To the submissive who had retreated into darkness after Stan’s vicious betrayal. Instinct told her that this Dom would command without cruelty. Each touch promised protection rather than possession. The void where her soul had hidden stirred, recognizing a truth her mind feared to acknowledge. Here was a Dom strong enough to breach her walls without breaking her spirit.
“Still okay, kitten?” His deep voice resonated through her bones, settling into spaces she’d believed were permanently empty. That steady point of contact kept her present, while his careful check-in loosened another brick in her defensive wall. Butterflies stirred in her belly, their wings fluttering soft and frantic against her insides, and the unfamiliarity of it brought tears to her eyes.
“Y-yes, Master Crone, thank you.”
His hands slid up her thighs, catching the hem of her green leather skirt. The muscles in her legs twitched beneath his touch as he slowly gathered the material, easing it over her hips. A shiver raced up her spine at the brush of cool air against her heated skin.
“Breathing okay, little one?”
Her inner voice, dormant for so long, chose that moment to pipe up.Of course, I’m breathing. I haven't forgotten how.The unexpected flash of sass startled her. “Yes, Sir,” she said quickly as she realized he was waiting for a response.
Those large hands belied their size with their controlled, gentle movements as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her panties.At least you wore your sexy panties.A strangled giggle escaped before she could catch it.
“Ah, subbie... what a wondrous sound.” His voice resonated with warm approval.
Heat rushed to her cheeks as his words settled deep inside her. One palm remained curved against her bottom, drawing lazy circles that sent tingles through her nerve endings while he worked the fabric down her thighs.
“Your laughter suits you.”
His gentle praise loosened another knot inside her chest. No one had commented on her laughter in years. How could they, she’d forgotten she was capable of it. One of his hands maintained its steady circles on her bottom while the other traced up her inner thigh, leaving trails of warmth in its wake.
“I’m going to apply oil now. It helps prevent bruising.” His matter-of-fact tone steadied her, even as her muscles tensed. “Easy, little one. This isn’t about damage. Pain yes, but nothing beyond your limits.”
