Chapter Four
So much for not screwing the crew. He’d only just managed to pull out in time. God. What if he’d managed to knock her up in hours of meeting her?
Marnie looked as shell-shocked as he felt. They’d both lost their heads, which was fine for her, a traumatized girl from a broken city, but what was his excuse?
She hadn’t gotten up yet. Her legs were still wobbly. He could see the tremor in her thighs, and her pants were still down. He could see her well-fucked pussy, the wet folds of her sex. She’d felt incredible. Hot and tight, and so fucking wet. He felt his cock twitch again inside his jeans, but his head was clearer now. He knew what he wanted, and what he had to do.
She started to get up, but he reached out and pressed his hand down on the small of her back, keeping her in place.
“Stay.”
She looked over her shoulder, and he saw confusion in her eyes. He had to make this right, make sure she knew he wasn’t just pumping and dumping her.
“Let me up, Sam,” she blushed.
“In a minute,” he said, enjoying how cute she was with her face flushed from multiple orgasms, and the embarrassment of being out here in the open with her pussy on display. “I want to get a few things straight with you first, little girl.”
She let out a little groan. “We just had sex, Sam, you can’t call me that.”
“Sure I can, they’re two different things. You’re a very attractive woman, Marnie, all grown up, no doubt about that.” He slapped her ass lightly. “But I’m going to look after you too, and that means you’re also my little girl. Get used to it.”
“What? Like I don’t have a choice?”
“After what we did? I don’t think either of us have a choice, sweetheart. I don’t know about you, but I don’t usually fuck chicks I just met.”
“I don’t usually fuck chicks I just met either,” she mumbled, squirming.
He snorted and smacked her ass again. “You know what I mean. We did what we did. It’s going to happen again, so…”
“Is it?”
“You don’t want to do that again?”
“I…” She trailed off, unable to finish her sentence.
She didn’t want to admit it. He got that. Chicks were way harder on themselves when they had sex. Nobody was going to judge him for fucking her that quickly, but odds were she was already feeling guilty. She looked it. He wasn’t going to let her slide into that state of mind.
“There’s nothing wrong with what we just did,” he said, his palm splayed across her ass, possessive. “We’re both adults, we both wanted it.”
* * *
Marnie’s head was spinning. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. She’d never had sex like that before. She’d never fucked a guy she hardly knew. She’d never been spanked to orgasm, and she had definitely never been held down afterward and given a talking to.
Her pussy was tender from the multiple orgasms, her butt was stinging from the spanking, and the way he was talking to her made her all quivery again. Sam liked to be in charge; that much was obvious. It had been apparent from the moment she met him, and it had come roaring out when he took her. She’d laid there and let him have her and called him sir and loved every second of it, and now he was telling her how it was going to be… her heart started to pound.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t safe with him. It was that she wasn’t safe inside herself. What was happening? This wasn’t her. She didn’t jump guys she’d just met. She didn’t fuck around. She didn’t do this. She couldn’t do this.
“Let me up, Sam. Now.” This time there was a real strident borderline panic in her voice, and this time he listened.
He moved his hand and stood back.
“Don’t freak out,” he said in soothing tones. “It’s okay.”
“I’m not freaking out, I just want to get my pants on,” she said, tugging them up so she could feel a little more equal, a little more in control of herself. Once she was covered, she ran a hand through her sex-tussled hair and addressed him directly to his chest.
“I’m not… I’m not a slut, Sam.”
“I know you’re not.”
“No, you don’t,” she said. “Because I got off the bus and ended up on your dick.” She turned around and looked away from him entirely. What the fuck was she doing? Who was she now? Is this what she did? Fuck.
Tears began to form in her eyes. She was so confused. She hadn’t just fucked him. She’d… god. What was the word… she had submitted to him. She’d begged him to take her. She’d acted like she didn’t have any morals or sense or anything. They hadn’t even used a condom, and she hadn’t cared about that either. His hot, bare cock had been thrusting inside her. He could have come inside her if he’d wanted. She wouldn’t have stopped him. The thought made her tender pussy clench and her stomach do flips.
God! Get a grip! she lectured herself silently.
“You’ve been through a lot, Marnie,” he said softly from behind her. “Maybe you just needed this. That’s okay.”
Earthquakes could be blamed for a lot of things, but she’d never heard of anyone turning into a total slut because of them.
Her shoulders shook as she started to cry from confusion and fear. Fear that she didn’t know who she was and didn’t know what she’d do next. Earthquakes had made the outside world unpredictable, and now she didn’t even know herself.
Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, a large male chest against her back. He held her without speaking, seeming to know words would make it worse. She sniffled until the hot breeze took the tears away, until the calm of the countryside started to seep into her.
“Let me take care of you, Marnie,” Sam murmured in her ear.
“I can’t.”
He turned her around gently and looked down at her with a quizzical expression. “What do you mean, you can’t?”
“I mean…” She shook her head. “I just can’t, Sam, I’m sorry.”
“Okay,” he nodded. “That’s okay.”
She’d disappointed him. She’d disappointed herself.
“Really,” he said, taking her by the chin and looking down into her eyes. “It’s okay, Marnie. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Except he hadn’t had to force her. She’d thrown herself at him. “Let’s just leave it, okay?”
“Okay,” he said, letting go of her.
Marnie missed his touch immediately, wanted to dive back into his arms. She was starting to figure out part of what attracted her to him so much. Sam was the first person she’d met in ages who wasn’t carrying massive stress. He was relaxed, and even when he was growling, he was in control of his domain. Control. She needed that so badly. Right now everything was out of control, including herself.
“You’re tired,” he said. “We can do the farm tour another time. Right now, I think you could do with a nap. Let’s go back to the house.”
It wasn’t really a suggestion. It was an order, one she didn’t feel inclined to refuse. He got back on the bike he’d just ravaged her over and told her to get on. She didn’t argue. The ride back was an embarrassing reminder of everything that had just happened. Her tender pussy rubbed against her wet jean shorts, more chafing than tantalizing and every bump and rumble reminded her of what a slut she’d just been. Even having her arms wrapped around his hard, lean waist was an exquisite torture.
When they got back, she dumped the helmet, kicked her boots off on the doorstep, and practically ran into the house, up to the room he’d shown her to. She didn’t get into bed, she just wrapped the blanket around herself and over her head and squeezed her eyes shut. She wasn’t going to be able to sleep, but maybe she could escape the total mess she’d made of her life by staying in the soft blanket.
* * *
Several hours later, she woke up. Hungry.
The growling in her stomach led her downstairs, and her nose took her to the kitchen, where she found Sam standing next to the stove, stirring a pot of something that smelled amazing.
“Hey there,” he smiled as she came in. “Feel better?”
He’d showered. It was the first thing she noticed. And he’d shaved. The hard lines of his jaw were even clearer now, and the cable knit Merino sweater he was wearing brought out the colour of his eyes. God. He was fucking handsome. Now she felt like a mess compared to him, still in her dusty, sticky shorts.
“Uhmmm… I should get cleaned up,” she said, not answering his question.
“Sure, the door opposite your room leads to a bathroom,” he said. “Sorry, I should have shown you there first. There’s clean towels in there too.”
She noticed that he wasn’t calling her little girl anymore. For the first time since they met he wasn’t growling because she’d just tramped dirt through the house, or threatening her with a spanking for something or other. He was being polite and respectful and, well, normal. It was just what she’d been asking for, and it was terrible.
“What are you cooking?” It seemed such a trivial question after what they’d shared together, but she didn’t know what else to say. And she had to say something, or she was going to scream.
Despite feeling gross, she didn’t really want a shower. She wanted Sam. She wanted him to bend her over the kitchen bench and ravish her again, just as he’d done over the bike. She wanted to hear the words little girl rumble off his lips as his huge hands grabbed her ass and pulled her closer to his hard body. She didn’t want him to just stand there, all clean and respectable, cooking, while she felt so confused and uncomfortable and dirty.
“Rice pudding.”
“For dinner?”
A slow smile spread across Sam’s face as he took in her surprised expression. “Why not? Add canned peaches… the best food in the world!”
Sam definitely didn’t seem like a rice pudding and peaches kind of man. He seemed like a ‘throw the chops on the barbie’ kind of man, with mashed spuds and peas. Or the kind of man who could devour a steak bigger than her hand with ease. Rice pudding didn’t seem macho enough for him.
“Besides, it’s all I know how to cook. Aunty Magda usually cooks, fortunately, but she’s not here. So it’s either this, which tastes bloody good, or baked beans on toast, which is pretty average.”
“Okay. I like rice pudding.” Her approval of Sam’s choice of cuisine seemed to please him—his smile widened as he stirred the contents of the pot rather enthusiastically.
“Your bag is upstairs. Should be beside your bedroom door, I took it up for you earlier. Get yourself cleaned up and changed; food’s ready when you are.”
She frowned at his bossiness. He seemed to thrive on giving orders, and even though he said it all with a smile, he spoke like what he said wasn’t up for negotiation. Like he just expected she would obey.
“And if I don’t want to?”
Sam shrugged. “Then don’t.”
Marnie’s heart sank. Shouldn’t he at least be frowning and flexing his hands menacingly? Where had the stern disciplinarian gone? Where was the man who had turned her over his knee and spanked her? This man, the man who didn’t seem to care what she did… she didn’t like him very much at all.
Turning on her heel, Marnie stomped back up the stairs, looking for the bathroom. If Sam wasn’t going to react the way she’d hoped he would, she may as well do something about the dirt coating her legs, the shorts sticking to her thighs, and the dust coating her top. Ugh. She’d never been this dirty in her life! She flicked at a patch of muck sticking to her forearm. How did people survive out here with all this filth?
The bathroom was easy to find. It was dead opposite her bedroom, just as Sam said it was, and the door was wide open. The small room clearly hadn’t been updated, probably ever. Reaching inside, she pulled the cord of the old-fashioned light switch and blinked rapidly, letting her eyes adjust to the light, as the single bare bulb illuminated the room. There wasn’t much space to move in there; small bathrooms must have been all the rage when this place had been built. A huge claw-foot tub with a blue shower curtain hanging from a rail above it took up most of the space and beside it, a small wooden vanity unit stood. The lino, although clean, was stained and splotched and almost worn through in places. Not exactly fancy. She moved further into the room. A frosted glass window was wedged permanently open, presumably to let out the steam. And to let in the cold, her inner mind snarked. Hadn’t they heard of extraction fans out here? Was it really preferable to freeze rather than modernize?
Pushing the door shut with her shoulder, Marnie turned the key in the lock. Immediately, her breath hitched in her throat and her airways seemed to swell with panic. With the door shut, the tiny room was claustrophobic and she felt trapped. After the earthquakes, trapped was something she definitely did not want to be. Terror built up inside her.
“Just breathe,” she whispered. “You’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.” Maybe if she repeated the mantra often enough she’d start to believe it. Closing her eyes tight against the sensations pushing against her, she repeated it again. Several deep breaths later, her racing heart started to slow. She opened her eyes.
How the hell was she going to do this? How was she going to survive out here? She hated the dust, wasn’t too excited about the job she didn’t even know she had, and she was terrified of the bathroom.
But the boss is pretty cute, she reminded herself. And the ground stays still out here. That’s a definite bonus.
Standing next to it, the bath was even bigger than she’d first thought: the top of it came up to her mid-thigh and it was much longer than she was tall. Sam would probably be able to stretch right out inside it. Don’t think about Sam, she chided herself. He fucked you and discarded you. He’s gone all polite on you—won’t even threaten you with a spanking. Don’t even go there.
A blue rubber mat with sucky feet sat in the base of the bath directly under the showerhead, just in front of the plug. Rust circled the drain but the tub itself was clean, even free from the infernal dust that seemed to coat everything out here. Inside the vanity unit, behind the cupboard door that didn’t quite shut, were clean towels, rolled up, sitting in neat rows. The bright, organized towels looked as out of place in the dingy room as she felt. Pulling the top one from the pile, she clutched it to her chest, finding comfort in the familiar smell of Persil that still lingered in the fluffy threads. Had Sam used this towel before? It was big; she could imagine him wrapping it around his body, soaking up the water droplets that clung to his muscular chest. She’d felt enough of his body while on the bike to know that he was ripped, she didn’t need to actually see him shirtless to picture what he would look like wearing nothing but this towel… her pussy tightened at the image and her clit throbbed. Discarding the towel, she tore off her clothes.
Marnie felt herself relaxing under the fine mist of the warm shower. The tension slowly left her body as she turned her back into the spray, letting the warm water trickle over her shoulders and down her back. She wished it was Sam’s fingers gently massaging away her stress.
It felt good to get clean again. She dragged the soap over her thighs, between her legs, washing away the final remnants of Sam. Sparks shot through her as she remembered the way Sam’s cock had felt buried inside her, the way he’d filled her so completely and fucked her so hard, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted more; a primal, carnal need welled up within her, making her feel like a wanton little hussy. Short, quick breaths signalled her arousal at the memory.
Her own fingers brushed over taut nipples. Had Sam touched there, too? She couldn’t remember; sparks had been everywhere. If he hadn’t, she wanted him to.
She trailed the soap down her torso, wishing it was Sam’s fingers, not the soap, washing her body.
By her calculations, the kitchen was directly below her. Sam was directly below her. If he could look up from the pot he was stirring, through the floorboards, and see what she was doing, see how horny the memories of his ministrations were making her, what would he think?
With great effort, she dragged her mind away from Sam. She was being ridiculous. He was just a man. A very sexy, very bossy, very stern man, but just a man. Just a man who presses all the right buttons, you mean, her inner voice tormented her. And when have you ever had a man like Sam?
The light went out.
Marnie’s terrified scream echoed around the small room, bouncing off the walls and adding to her confusion. It took her a couple of seconds to realize what the noise was. She shut her mouth. She’d heard enough screams lately to last her for a lifetime. But although she was silent, her heart pounded, her hands were clenched into tight fists of fear, and every muscle in her body was taut, ready to run.
It wasn’t dark; enough light from the twilight outside came in the window that she could see, but the sudden outage of the light compounded with the claustrophobia of the tiny room. She could barely breathe.
Heavy, rushing footsteps sounded on the stairs outside. Sam. Had she screamed that loud? Shame flooded her as she realized that indeed, she had. What would he think of her now? She didn’t even have to try very hard to imagine the derision she knew would be written all over his face. And she was naked, so that already put her at a disadvantage. Huddling pathetically under the warm water, she wished the drain was big enough to swallow her down, make her disappear.
“Marnie?” Sam pounded on the door.
Thank god she’d locked it. The last thing she needed was for Sam to come barging in.
At that moment, as suddenly as it had gone off, the bulb flicked back on, flooding the room with light once again. Marnie breathed a sigh of relief.
“Are you okay?” Sam called.
She took a breath, willing her racing heart to slow and her rapid breathing to steady enough for her to speak. She was panicked, her body in flight mode.
“I’m okay,” she ground out through clenched teeth.
“Open the door.”
“No, I’m fine!”
“You were screaming. Open it. Now.” She could hear the tension in his voice. He wasn’t asking, he was demanding.
“I’ll be out in a bit!”
“Now, little girl.”
She couldn’t help the grin that spread over her face as she heard him say that, even just as a gruff disembodied voice through the door. She still hadn’t moved though. The shower was running, water dribbling over her back and shoulders.
“Do I have to get a screwdriver and open this?” Sam’s voice came again.
“Hold on! I’m coming!”
She turned the water off, rubbed the towel over her hair and then wrapped it around her body before going to the door and opening it. She found herself looking up into his worried face.
“The light went out,” she explained before he had a chance to ask. “I got a fright.”
He looked at her sceptically. “You screamed like you were dying.”
“Yeah, well, turns out I wasn’t,” she said, giving him a sarcastic thumbs-up.
Sam looked at her in a way she didn’t like, as if he didn’t quite believe her.
“The light went out. I got a fright. I made a little bit of a noise,” she said. “I’m fine.”
* * *
Marnie had just gotten out of the shower, so she was pink around the ears and nose, but she still looked pale to Sam. And that scream, it hadn’t been one of shock. It had been one of pure fear. He’d felt it bolting down his spine, ringing in his ears even all the way downstairs.
She said she had been frightened by the light going off. He believed that. It could be a bit dodgy at times, but most people didn’t scream their lungs out over it. Was she that afraid of the dark?
He wanted to push it further, but she’d been clear back in the paddock. She wanted her space, and he was going to give it to her. He was a lot of things, but he didn’t force himself on women who didn’t want what he had to offer.
“Alright,” he said. “Well, dinner’s ready when you are.”
He turned around and heard her huff.
“Drag me out of the shower just for that,” she complained.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Hmm?”
“I mean, come on, Sam. Do you come running every time you hear a little squeak? You force me out of the shower just to answer to you? I told you I was fine.”
What was she doing? Was she baiting him? His palms were tingling with desire to yank that towel right off her and spank her bare bottom, but he was still respecting her earlier request for him to leave her be and not try to take care of her.
He walked toward the stairs, knowing full well there wasn’t an answer she wanted to hear.
“Dick.”
The word was uttered behind him in rebellious tones.
“Okay, that’s enough.” He turned around and faced her as she stood pouting in the towel. “I was worried about you. I came up to check. No need to be rude.”
“Fine. Check. But I told you I was okay through the door.”
They were glowering at each other now. She was mad, and he didn’t think it was because he’d asked her to open the door. This was obviously about the sex. That had been a really big mistake. Not that he regretted it, but it seemed like she did.
“What do you want, Marnie? Do you want me to spank you? Is that it?”
“No,” she said hoarsely, her fingers twisting in the towel.
The longer she was out of the shower, the paler she looked. He noticed that she was breathing faster than she really should have been, and there was a tremor in her hands as she adjusted the towel. Her pupils were dilated too, her nostrils flaring. If she were a horse, she’d be about to bolt.
“Marnie,” he said, softening his tone. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she insisted.
“Don’t lie to me, little girl.”
* * *
“God! Just leave me alone, Sam!”
Marnie was asking for the one thing she really didn’t want at all. Actually, she didn’t ask for it. She shouted it. At full volume.
She didn’t want him to leave her alone, but she didn’t want to admit what was going on either. She was melting down, that’s what was happening. She was freaking the fuck out, for no reason other than the bathroom was too small and the light had gone out and now she really, really needed someone to hold her.
“That’s it,” he growled, advancing on her.
She expected him to grab her and smack her. What she didn’t expect was to be picked up over his shoulder in one swooping motion and be carried into her bedroom, the towel that had somewhat protected her modesty left behind on the bathroom floor.
“Sam! No!”
He sat down on the bed, slid her naked body down from his shoulder, and pulled her into his lap. Not over it, thank god. His big arms wrapped around her, and his fingers found her chin, forcing her to look into his steel blue eyes.
“That is not the way to get me to leave you alone, little girl,” he growled.
She felt her breath catching in her throat as she looked at him. She was naked! He didn’t seem to care about that though. He had lecturing to do, and he was obviously going to do it.
“Is that really what you want? Because right now you’re doing everything to make me whip your ass as long and as hard as I can.”
Marnie shrank down in his arms. She had a sense of his strength, and knew he was capable of carrying out the threat. She might be in real trouble now.
“No,” she whispered.
“Then tell me what’s going on.”
“I got scared,” she mumbled.
“Because the light went out?” His voice was softer now, more encouraging. There was none of the judgment and disdain she’d feared.
“Because I freak out sometimes,” she mumbled, tears coming into her eyes as she told him the last thing she wanted to admit. “I just… get scared for no reason. Ever since the quake. It’s so stupid. I hate it.”
His arms tightened around her, snuggling her close against his powerful male body. She felt the soft knit of his sweater against her naked curves, his pants a little rough against her bare bottom.
“The quakes must have been really scary,” he said, speaking softly, his deep voice soothing her. “Sometimes, when something really scary happens, your body remembers it for a long time afterward. It’s not stupid.”
“Yes, it is,” she said, trying her best not to cry. “Because I came here, and I was so stupid I didn’t even know what I was supposed to be doing and then you yelled at me because I don’t know about horses, and I slept with you and… I’m so dumb!”
“You are not dumb,” he rumbled as she started to cry. “You’re stressed and you’re tired and I’ve given you a harder time than I should have. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry about what happened over the bike…”
Marnie started to cry even harder. He wished he hadn’t slept with her. She didn’t blame him. “It’s my fault, I know I’m gross. You must think I’m such a stupid slut.”
“Don’t you dare talk about yourself that way!” Sam’s censure snapped her out of her self-pity. “I don’t mean I’m sorry about what we did. I’m sorry that we did it so quickly, before you even had a chance to settle or get to know me. I should have waited. It would have been better for you, but I wanted you, so I took you.”
His words made her quiver low in her belly. Yes. He had taken her. He had taken her and she had forgotten about everything except him. For the first time in weeks and weeks, she’d actually been free of the stress of the earthquakes and everything she’d lost. Her tears dried as she remembered how he’d held her down, fucked her thoroughly and then kept her in place, displaying her pussy to the world. She wished she hadn’t told him to let her up. She wished they could do it again. Now. Her nakedness, which had been so shameful at first, was starting to become an advantage. There was nothing to stop him from pulling his cock out and pushing it inside her again, fucking her until she forgot about the very concept of fear.
“Sam…” she said his name huskily. “I wanted you too.”
“I know,” he said, shifting her a little on his lap, moving her just the barest fraction away from his crotch. “But I want to take my time with you, Marnie. You deserve that. You need time to adjust to things here. And there’s a lot of adjusting to do. I’m not an easy man to work for, let alone to be with…”
“Yeah,” she said with a little giggling snort. “I reckon!”
“Right, so, let’s get you dressed,” he said, sliding her onto the bed.
She sat there, pouting as he retrieved her suitcase and slid it up onto a small chest of drawers, sliding the zippers open. She thought about complaining about her privacy, but as he reached into the suitcase and pulled out a pair of panties with pink hearts on them and turned to her with a smile, she didn’t think she cared very much about her privacy anymore.
“Legs out,” he said, crouching in front of her.
“You’re not going to dress me, Sam.” She blushed incredulously down at the handsome man with the brilliant blue eyes who was handling her underwear.
“Oh, yes, I am, little girl,” he rumbled, sliding one leg of the panties over her raised foot as she offered it in spite of her objections. “And then we’re going to go and eat some tea.”
Marnie held his gaze as Sam slid the underwear up her legs, his fingers brushing the inside of her thighs as he raised them higher. She wiggled her hips, trying to brush her pussy accidentally-on-purpose across his fingers. It didn’t work. Instead, Sam frowned as he pulled her to her feet and gently put the underwear in place, snugging the elastic firm around her hips.
“Right. Pyjamas.”
“I don’t want to wear pyjamas,” she protested. “It’s not night-time yet!”
“Pyjamas are just what you need, little girl,” Sam insisted in a gravelly voice. “We’re not going back outside today; we’re going to have dinner, sign your employment contract, then go to bed. We have an early start in the morning, remember.”
Marnie groaned. She hadn’t forgotten, but she was hoping he had. Or that he was at least going to ease her into it gently. Getting up at half past five in the morning would be akin to torture.
While he was turned around fishing in her suitcase for more clothing, Marnie glared at his back. She remembered how nice it had been pressed up against that same broad back on the bike, how strong it had felt. She felt herself blush even more as she remembered what had happened on that bike and what had come straight afterward. She wanted to do it again. She really wanted to do it again.
Smiling mischievously, she pouted her lips just slightly, in the way that she knew made her look sexy, then folded her arms across her ribcage, just under her breasts, the pressure of her arms thrusting her breasts up and out, making her bosom look far more impressive than it actually was.
“These ones?” Sam held up a pair of pink flannel pyjamas with black cats on them and turned to her. His eyes widened as he automatically glanced at her chest, holding the pyjamas out in front of him, sort of like a shield. Like he was protecting himself from something… from her. Quickly, he looked away, perhaps trying to pretend that her pose, the one she was putting on especially for him, didn’t affect him at all. But it did; she’d seen his reaction, the way his eyes had burned with lust, the rather large bulge tenting the front of his jeans. She smiled smugly. He wanted her; good.
“Those ones,” she confirmed.
It was a bit embarrassing, having a man handling her sleepwear. Especially when the only sleepwear she’d thought to pack was so childish, in stark contrast to the skimpy clothes she’d been wearing all day. If she’d known someone as sexy as Sam would be seeing her night attire she would have found a sexy sheer lace nightie to wear or something, not the comfy, worn PJs she’d had for years—a birthday present from Grandma. Although, if she were honest, she hadn’t actually been thinking too much at all when she’d stuffed the only clothes she could find into the suitcase. She hadn’t really considered what she might need, and most of her stuff had been destroyed by the liquefaction anyway. Her favourite pyjamas were probably lucky to escape the oozing muddy liquid that covered nearly everything else.
Sam was so close she could hear him breathing, the raspy inhalations coming in a quick, shallow rhythm. He was so close she could stretch out her hand just the tiniest bit and run her fingers up the front of his thigh. Sparks zinged between his jeans and her fingertips, her skin on fire as she worked her way slowly up his leg, angling inward, toward his crotch. The hard muscles of his thigh rippled beneath her touch. He sucked in a breath. He felt so good beneath her hand. It felt so right to touch him on her terms, rather than the other way round. It occurred to her then that this was the first time she had touched him voluntarily. She’d been in his arms, she’d hung on around his waist on the back of the motorbike, and she’d been across his knee getting her butt smacked, but touching him now, feeling his body beneath her hand, in control, was entirely different. Electricity bolted through her, tingling her spine, setting her nerve endings on fire.
Her fingers rested at the base of his fly, just briefly, then she spread out her hand, cupping his balls in her palm, feeling the weight of them even through his jeans. She squeezed lightly. He froze.
“No.” Sam’s voice was hoarse as he grabbed her wrist and held it away from him, his palm clammy, his fingers far too tight around her. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “No. Get dressed.”
Tears of rejection pricked behind her eyes and she felt her face flame. “You don’t want me,” she whispered, barely able to hold herself together. But she would not cry. Not now. Not because of him.
“Oh, I definitely want you, little girl,” Sam growled. “But I need to do what’s best for you.”
“You don’t know what’s best for me.”
* * *
What the hell was he doing? He shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be in her room with her, especially not when she was mostly naked, her forearm hoisting up her beautiful breasts, making them look even more voluptuous and tempting.
She was right: he didn’t know what was best for her. If he did, they wouldn’t be in this situation right now. She wouldn’t be sitting mostly naked on the bed and he wouldn’t be holding her pyjamas, having just slid her knickers up her thighs and over her hips, hiding her most intimate places from his view. He could still see her in his memory though, the glistening folds of her pussy, wet for him, pink and swollen with arousal.
The gentle slide of his fingers up his leg nearly did him in. He knew what she was doing, the little brat—her intention was written plainly all over her face. She was trying to seduce him, and a damn fine job she was doing of it, too! But he couldn’t let her. Not after what he’d done to her on the bike. He still wanted to kick himself for taking advantage of her like that. Not that he regretted their fucking, but he should have known better. He did know better. Aunty Magda would have his guts for garters if she knew he was treating the new hand in that way. And judging by the utterly devastated look on Marnie’s face right now, he’d not only ripped her heart out when he’d pulled her hand away from him, but he’d trampled on it, too. Knowing how much he’d hurt her made him feel worse.
He needed a cold shower. He needed to do something, anything, to get the thoughts of the beautiful blonde sitting on the bed in front of him out of his head. She wasn’t his plaything, she wasn’t his girlfriend. She was his new employee. What kind of asshole was he, giving into temptation so quickly?
“I’m sorry, Marnie, I really am.”
“Fuck off.” It was a snarl, but filled with pain.
“You wanted me to leave you alone,” he reminded her gently.
“Maybe I’ve changed my mind?” she yelled at him, tears streaming down her face now, but her voice strong. “You can’t really be that much of an idiot, can you? I’ve changed my mind!”
As close as she’d been to making him lose control with her seduction, the sudden petulance was not a turn-on. At all. He didn’t sleep with women because they cried and demanded it. Marnie was tired and stressed, but there was no excuse for this behaviour whatsoever. She’d been disrespectful from the beginning, and he was about done with it.
“Don’t speak to me like that, Marnie.”
“Like what? Calling you an idiot? That’s what you are. An idiot! A stupid damn dumbass!”
“Get dressed,” he said, his tone clipped. “Now.”
“No!”
She didn’t pick up on his change of tone, or if she did, she didn’t sense the warning. Either way, Sam was done arguing with this bratty little girl.
He grabbed Marnie and proceeded to physically wrestle her into her pyjamas. She cursed and swore and squirmed as he pulled the top over her head, resisting him while he did his best to push her arms into the sleeves. She was acting like the little girl he described her as being, and not in any kind of charming or sweet way. She was a little hellion in dire need of proper discipline. His palm caught her deserving bottom several times, painting the soft flesh outside her panties with bright red fingerprints. When her top was on, he pinned her on her back on the bed using his body weight, pulled the pyjama pants up and over her feet and legs, and yanked them firmly into place.
Marnie yelled blue murder throughout the whole proceedings. Anyone would have thought she was being tortured. Never in his life had Sam seen anyone fuss this much over putting their clothes on. If she put half the energy she put into resisting him into paying attention and learning her new job, she’d pick it up in no time.
She was finally dressed, but he wasn’t done with her. Not by a long way. Now he could turn her over his knee and give her what she really needed, and that’s exactly what he did. Before she could mouth off yet again, he yanked her up from the bed and pulled her over his thigh, locking her legs between his legs by closing the other one. This wasn’t going to be any warning ass warming. This was going to be the real thing.
“You want to sleep with me, Marnie?” he lectured, his palm meeting her ass firmly. “You behave yourself. You do as you’re told. You don’t swear and scream and yell at me like a spoiled little girl.”
“Why not! You keep calling me that!”
He laid into her then, his palm meeting her butt a good dozen times. He’d tried to ease her into this gently, but Marnie just kept pushing. No matter what he did, she acted out. She’d probably hate him for this too, but he’d rather she hated him for this than let her carry on thinking that shit was going to fly.
The sound of his hand meeting her ass was like gunshots echoing around the room, followed by the higher pitched plaintive cries that escaped her with every swat. She was still noisy, but at least she wasn’t swearing and yelling at him anymore. She was too busy getting thoroughly spanked. Her gasps and yelps sounded perfect to his ears, just the right blend of shocked and plaintive.
Hopefully she was learning her lesson and he wouldn’t have to hear her call him a dick again. And what else had she called him? Idiot. That’s right. Letting out a little growl, he hooked his hand in the back of her pyjamas and panties, pulling them down just below her ass. Her cheeks were an even pink colour. Good start, but not nearly enough. He set about making it a proper red, whipping his palm against her cheeks over and over until her toes drummed against the floor.
Marnie wasn’t going to curse at him again. She wasn’t going to call him disrespectful names. She wasn’t going to just demand sex as if he were her personal fuck toy. This little girl had a lot to learn about a lot of things, especially about him.
“When I tell you to do something, you do it,” he lectured as she writhed over his lap. “You don’t answer back. You don’t call me a dick. You sure as hell don’t refuse to put your clothes on. As for the rest—I’ll let you know when I’m ready to fuck you again, Marnie. Understand?”
She didn’t answer. She was too busy snivelling.
He smacked her bare ass hard. “I said, understand?”
“Yes!” She squealed the word.
“Good.”
He held her in place, one hand fisted in the back of her pyjamas, the other resting on her hot ass. It looked perfect like this, two squirming red rounds and the little cleft between them where he knew she would be hot and wet. His lust rose, but he pushed it back down. Now wasn’t the time.
“Get up,” he said, pulling her to her feet. There were tears running down her pretty face. She looked at him with a wounded, doe-like expression. That didn’t please him either. There was no need for her to be feeling sorry for herself. She hadn’t been hard done by. This was what brats got. As far as he was concerned, she was damn lucky he hadn’t taken his belt off for her.
“Go stand in the corner.”
“What?”
He got up, grabbed her by the back of the collar, and marched her into the corner of the room. He pushed her firmly into it so her nose was pressed against the very apex, then took her hands and put them on top of her head.
“They stay there, and your butt stays bare until I say so,” he told her. “Move a centimetre and we’ll start all over again.”
She didn’t move. She stood there sniffling to herself as he took a step back, folding his arms over his chest. He had a good mind to send her to bed without tea, but she needed to eat, and doing so on a sore bottom might be a decent reminder of how to speak to him.
Not yet though. For now she was going to stand there like the brat she was, her bright red ass on satisfying display. Sam rubbed his hands together, easing some of the sting out of them. His palm probably ached about as much as her little butt did.
He checked his watch. Fifteen minutes should do it. Then he’d see if she’d learned a damn thing. He sat back down on the bed, took a load off his feet, keeping an eye on her.
“Don’t,” he said sharply as she adjusted her hand, looking like she might be about to move.
As silence settled over the room for the first time in quite a few minutes, Sam got to enjoy the sight of Marnie’s shapely rear on display. She was a pretty girl. Very pretty, actually. Weren’t many girls like her out here in the country. Weren’t many girls, full stop. Might not be for long either. He wouldn’t be surprised if she packed her bags and left after this. That would be her choice, but he couldn’t have an undisciplined brat around the place. Horse trekking could be dangerous work, and someone who lost their temper and started screaming when they didn’t get their way had no place in it.
* * *
Marnie stayed very, very still.
Her ass was burning. She could feel her cheeks twitching periodically, little spasms of the muscle beneath her spanked skin as it reacted to the thrashing he’d just given her.
Emotionally, shock didn’t begin to cover the way she felt. She still couldn’t believe it. One minute she had been arguing with him, the next he was whipping her ass. Maybe she shouldn’t be shocked. He had threatened to do that, and it had been just like he promised it would be. It had been hard. And it had hurt.
She hated him. The way he’d manhandled her into her pyjamas then flipped her over so effortlessly and branded her with searing, scorching smacks that seemed to go on forever… she was stunned. What else would he do to hurt her? If she was honest with herself, she was scared of him, too. More than just a little bit scared. She’d never been scared of a person before. Situations, yes. Spiders, yes. But people? No, people had never scared her. No man had ever enforced his will on her before, no man had ever taken her across his knee and spanked her soundly. And no one had ever punished her before for being upset, feeling hurt and rejected. But Sam had.
His harsh “don’t!” when she’d tried to scratch the itch on the back of her head had made her tremble with fear and reinforced what a brute he was. If she had anywhere else to go, she would leave here, and go there. Aunt Elsie, her last surviving family member, had gone on a Caribbean cruise instead of hanging around Christchurch and fighting with the insurance company over her decimated house. She’d be gone for months. Marnie was all alone in the world. And to make matters worse, her bottom hurt.
She sniffed loudly. This wasn’t fair! The earthquake had turned her entire life on its head, and she didn’t like it one little bit.
Her legs were beginning to cramp and her arms were starting to ache from being held up in the air for so long. It felt like she’d been standing there forever. It was humiliating, being there like that, her bare ass on display to him. The stinging in her bottom hadn’t abated any, but after so many minutes of having a burning butt, she was getting used to that. It was the standing still in the corner that she was struggling with the most. But she was too scared to move. She couldn’t handle another spanking. Not after the way Sam had just laid into her, using what she was sure was close to his full strength to smack her bare, vulnerable ass. Did he like her like this? Sore and small?
“You can come out.”
She flinched at his words, emerging unexpectedly from the silence. She didn’t want to come out. She was safe where she was. He wasn’t in the corner. She didn’t have to look at him and see him looking at her.
Marnie felt his hands on her shoulders and stiffened as he turned her around gently. She looked studiously at the floor, and when he put his fingers beneath her chin, she resisted lifting her head.
“Marnie.”
She bit her lower lip. She was not going to cry. She was not going to look at him. She was just… not.
“Marnie.” He said her name more firmly. Her shoulders hunched as she pulled her arms from her head and crossed them over her chest, protecting herself.
“Look at me.”
She shook her head and kept her eyes on her toes.
She didn’t want to look at him. She didn’t want to talk to him. What was there to say? Besides, if she opened her mouth now, for all she knew he’d start whacking her again. Or maybe he’d start smacking her because she wouldn’t look at him. She didn’t know.
“Pull your pants up.”
That was one order she was happy to follow. She dipped down and yanked her pants up, letting out an involuntary squeak as the fabric met her sore ass.
“Come on,” he said. “You need to eat.”
She wasn’t hungry, but she followed him down the stairs, still refusing to make eye contact with him. Fortunately his back was to her until they got to the kitchen, though she didn’t like looking at that either. Just reminded her how much more powerful than her he was.
Sam grabbed a cushion from the couch in the nearby lounge and put it down on one of the kitchen chairs. “Sit.”
Marnie lowered herself gingerly into the chair. Sitting was not comfortable. Her ass throbbed with her weight on it, but the cushion made it a little easier. She sat there silently, looking at the table until Sam put a bowl of rice pudding and warm peaches in front of her. She didn’t feel hungry.
“Eat.”
She didn’t want to make him angry, so she took a spoonful. It tasted pretty good, but she wasn’t in the mood to appreciate cooking, good or otherwise. She chewed slowly, keeping her eyes on the bowl of food. Every swallow was a dry gulp. She would have liked some water, but she wasn’t going to ask him for it.
Sam took a seat next to her, and for the next few minutes the only sounds in the room were the clink of spoons in old ceramic bowls. Marnie sat there on her spanked bottom and tried to pretend that everything was normal. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t normal now, and it wouldn’t ever be again. Eventually, she just couldn’t pretend anymore. She let the spoon drop into the bowl as her tears threatened to fall.
“How could you do that to me?” Her lower lip trembled as she asked the question.
Sam reached over, his large hand covering hers as she stared at a half-eaten peach. The touch of his callused skin was more comforting than it should have been.
“You were screaming at me, Marnie. You were melting down. Calling me names. Did you expect to get away with that?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do know,” he replied. “So tell me. Did you expect that to slide?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “I did. I expected you to yell back at me, or call me an idiot too or something… but what you did was so much worse!”
“Was it? You’d rather I called you names than corrected your behaviour? You’d rather I lost my temper and yelled at you?”
“No,” she mumbled as she pulled her hand away. “I guess not.”
He sat back in his chair, spreading his legs and lacing his fingers together between his long thighs. He was so sure of himself. That was the strangest thing of all about this. He didn’t seem guilty or sorry or anything.
“It’s alright if you hate me,” he said calmly.
“Well, thanks, Mr. Feelings Police.”
She felt the sharp look he shot her without having to see it. It made her tingle all the way down to her toes. “Go on up to bed,” he said. “Before you get yourself into more trouble.”
She stood up and prepared to flee the kitchen.
“Marnie… one thing…”
She turned, wondering what he wanted. His arms extended around her and he drew her into a tight hug. She was pulled against the hard lines of his strong body, his long arms wrapped around her smaller frame as he rubbed her back with slow, calming circles she told herself she definitely didn’t like, even as the tension began to drain from her shoulders and spine.
“I did that for your own good,” he murmured into her hair. “But I didn’t like upsetting you or hurting you that way. Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He released her and she turned and made for the stairs, still sulky, but feeling a little lighter.
For once, Marnie did exactly as she was told. She climbed up to the bedroom and crawled into bed. She hoped she could sleep with a sore ass. Sometimes she had trouble sleeping, sometimes…
The moment her head hit the pillow, she was out like a light.