He heard the garage door and motorcycles peeling off, going back up the drive. He glanced down at his phone. His brothers had seen his woman safely home. He listened to doors opening and heard the rustle of bags as she came through the side door carrying the things she’d purchased. He should have gone to help her, but he enjoyed the sounds of her coming home, knowing his woman was in the house.
Her scent drifted into the bedroom. A delicate wild strawberry that settled the tension swirling in his gut. He stood, feet apart, one hand on top of the thick wooden post at the end of the bed. It was solid. His brothers, when they made furniture, always made it solid. There were no half-assed measures. His fingers unerringly found the rings embedded in the wood, deep, nearly impossible to pull out. Definitely no half-assed measures. He didn’t have to look to see where the rings were. He knew.
Seychelle came through the doorway, looked up and saw him. Her face lit up. That look. It clawed at him every time. Wrecked him. She put her packages in the corner and smiled at him, her dimple showing, the corners of her mouth turning up in that innocent, genuine smile. The blue in her eyes went sea blue. Sapphire. It was impossible not to see love there. Soft. Shining for him.
“Hi, honey.”
He could hear love in her voice, stroking over his skin. His heart clenched hard in his chest. He had never expected to have her.
“Is Hyde all right? I hated to just leave him there.”
Seychelle. She would have waded right through the Diamondbacks, uncaring of any danger to herself to help out a man she barely knew. It was no wonder she twisted him up inside.
“He’s just fine, baby. Lana and Alena were headed to the tea shop. They took care of it. Acted like they didn’t even notice the Diamondbacks until they had Hyde safely on his way. Flirted a little and then went into the shop. No problem.”
She started toward him and he held up his hand to stop her. “Strip. Everything off, Seychelle. Then go outside to the verandah facing the bluffs and bend over the rail and wait for me. Have your legs spread wide. Farther than shoulder-width apart.”
She halted in the middle of the bedroom floor, looking a little shocked, but at the same time, he could see the flare of excitement in her eyes. It was impossible to hide that from him. He’d seen it that first time in the alley, when he’d taken her cigarettes and he’d spun her around and turned her toward the wall, lifted her skirt and slapped her bottom. She’d obeyed him. She’d let him spank her without calling out for help. And she’d been aroused. He’d known then that she was far too compatible for a man like him. There was no way he was going to be able to resist her.
Seychelle frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“You understand perfectly. You’re just going to add more strikes onto your punishment—and this is a punishment. You’re not going to be feeling good after this, baby. You did a lot of bad things today. No more back talk. I suggest you make up your mind to get it over with.”
His cock hurt like a son of a bitch. They were leaving early in the morning, and she would have to ride on the bike, something she wasn’t that used to. He’d been thinking of ways to make the three days of the run hot as hell for them without being too obvious to anyone outside Torpedo Ink. He didn’t want to break the rules Seychelle and he had set up between them, nor did he want her humiliated. Still, to know she was feeling his marks, that he could possess her his way without others knowing what was transpiring between them, promised to heighten their pleasure even more.
Seychelle reached down and unzipped her boots, her gaze darting up to him several times, as if to make certain he meant what he’d said. He didn’t look away from her, keeping his gaze both steady and stern. He fucking loved this, and she had to know. He’d told her so many times. He’d warned her every screwup would result in punishment. Hell, he had all sorts of instruments of punishment, most of them to help ease her into his world. He told himself that, but he knew better. She did as well. If her heightened breathing and color were anything to go by, she was nearly as turned on as he was.
She removed her top and bra, spilling her gorgeous tits out into the open. Her hands dropped to her jeans, and she peeled them from her hips and down her thighs, along with her panties. There was only one lone pink stripe on her mound, so faint he could barely make it out. When she turned and walked out of the room, there were a few other faded stripes on her bare cheeks and the backs of her thighs, but they were mostly gone. He’d been careful her first time not to make the session too overwhelming, although he knew it felt that way to her.