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Chaos in my Wake A V Shener

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BLACK LIGHT: BRANDED
KAY ELLE PARKER
 C O NT E NT S

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue

About the Author

Also by Kay Elle Parker
Black Collar Press
Get a FREE Black Light Book
 ©2020 by Kay Elle Parker
All rights reserved.

No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Published by Black Collar Press

Black Light: Branded

Black Light Series
by Kay Elle Parker

e-book ISBN: 978-1-947559-48-6

Print ISBN: 978-1-947559-49-3

Cover Art by Eris Adderly, http://erisadderly.com/

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

First Electronic Publish Date, October 2020

First Print Publish Date, October 2020
 DEDICATION

When you write parts of yourself into a character, it's easy to forget that you're not alone with the
pain. It differs from person to person, but it links all of us together, one way or another.
Branded is dedicated to all of us, all of you, who know that pain intimately. We wake with it and
suffer restless nights with it, learn how to make the most of the good days and suffer through the
bad. We find ways to make it stop for a little while and wish we knew how to make it end for good.
Don't give up. It doesn't matter how deep the scars run, how low the voices drag us.
We stand strong, we stand together.
You are not alone.
CHAPTER 1
 A VA

V alentine Roulette Night

S he said yes.
One of the most frightening things she’d ever done, and yet it was so exhilarating. Not only
that, it felt as though something inside her changed when she took the step and agreed to spend the rest
of the night with Master Finnegan after a seriously amazing three scenes at Black Light.
It felt right, a positive direction in her life after so many bad turns.
Which was why she was walking across the lobby of an incredibly opulent hotel with her hand
cradled in the careful grasp of the biggest man of her acquaintance.
Everything about Finn was supersized. Hands, feet, smile. One of the submissives standing in line
with Ava earlier that evening had dubbed him the jolly brooding giant, but as much as he’d
intimidated the hell out of her then, he’d shown her he was so much more.
Strict, kind, compassionate, and exceptionally skilled with those hands.
Ava tripped over her own feet, heat rising swiftly up her face as she recalled exactly how he’d
used them on her—in her, for mercy’s sake—over the course of the evening.
The man was a god.
For tonight, he was all hers.
“You’re tired, little dove,” he murmured quietly, leading her across the peaceful lobby so
attentively, she felt like a princess. He towered over her, but rather than feeling trapped by his size,
there was only a sense of security. “One a.m. is well past your bedtime, I’m guessing?”
She snorted, then clapped her hand over her mouth. “Isn’t it late for you?”
“Not really. Some mornings I don’t get into the house until four a.m. Back out into the saddle at
six. There’s always work to be done,” he said simply, pausing beside a pair of silver doors so
perfectly polished, her reflection bounced back at her as effectively as a mirror. One work-roughened
hand reached out to press the button. “Ranching is a long, arduous business. When there’s no one to
come home to, there’s no point coming home.”
Her heart strings tugged. She knew what it was like to be so lonely that even the familiarity of
home held no appeal. Though he spoke without bitterness or self-pity, she could tell it bothered him.
Not keenly, not digging under the tough hide protecting the man within, but enough for it to resonate
inside her.
As they waited for the elevator to arrive, Ava leaned into him, warmth blossoming in all the good
places as his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her in front of him, her back to his chest.
“You’re not alone tonight.”
“Neither are you. Aren’t we the lucky ones?”
She was, absolutely. The night had been one rollercoaster after another, taking her emotions on an
exhausting ride, but she sure wasn’t complaining. At any point, now the adrenaline and the excitement
of Roulette was fading, he might change his mind about her.
If he was going to break her heart come morning, she was going to milk the rest of the night for all
it was worth. Whatever she could give, she would. She’d take every scrap of affection he offered and
squirrel it away for when she needed it most.
You don’t belong with him.
Oh God, not now. Please not now. Ava squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out her father’s
judgement. It was unescapable, the burden she carried every day of her life. The weight of it fell on
her shoulders, threatening to crush the joy she harbored.
Open your eyes, stupid bitch. Open your eyes and see what’s right in front of your face.
Years of obeying her father kicked in. When she opened her eyes, she stared at her reflection, at
Finn’s, and yearned. They looked disheveled and tired, but her lover’s face was relaxed and
satisfied. Happy. The vee of his shirt was open, despite the bitter winter chill outside.
He’d given her his jacket to wear, thinking of her first as he had all night. He’d forsaken his own
comfort to ensure she was warm, that her scars were covered from prying eyes. Scars the voices in
her head had driven her to score into her skin, cutting deep into her own flesh to escape.
Her white hair was a tousled mess, but she didn’t care.
Rich prick looks pleased with himself, doesn’t he? Not surprised, after what he’s done to you
tonight. Striped your ass, had his hand up that tight cunt before he fucked you good and proper.
Bagged himself a dirty whore with an angelic face, hasn’t he? He’ll be gone before the sun cracks
the sky.
Ava shuddered in revulsion, was instantly soothed by Finn’s easy murmur. She loathed being
called derogatory names. Years of psychological abuse had rooted deep and taken hold, quietly
eroding her self-esteem.
For the first time in hours, she wanted to cut.
Riding the burn silenced the voices. When blood dripped warm and wet down her arm and the
fire of her wounds ripped through her nervous system, peace followed. A numbing balm on the
wreckage of her soul. It was like everything just flowed out of the gashes, her blood cleansing
injuries that would never fully heal.
She’d promised Finn she wouldn’t do it again.
Not after the last time, when too much pressure on the blade had sent her mind soaring and left her
body bleeding out on the bathroom floor for her roommate to find. Not after a stay in the emergency
room and all the questions that followed.
She wasn’t suicidal, not really. Sometimes the voices and the pain grew too loud, too opinionated.
Screaming for attention, throwing insults and accusations. A constant reminder of the man she’d
avoided for years before finally gathering the courage to run away from him, as fast and as far as she
could.
He’s going to fuck you for the rest of the night, take what he wants from you, and the moment
you fall asleep, dreaming of a future with a man far out of your reach, he’ll leave you. Walk out of
the room with a grin on his face and never think of you again.
Ava’s chest grew tight, her breath short. Cursing her father with every inch of her soul, she dug her
nails into the palms of her hands, squeezing until they bit hard enough for the pain to mute the voices.
“No, little dove, don’t do that.” Finn’s breath wafted across her ear as he spoke, sending a spark
of heat spiraling down to her pussy. His hands moved, taking hold of hers and drawing them apart. “I
know this must be making you uneasy. We don’t really know each other, and there’s no Black Light
safety net in place. Still trust me?”
It was easier to let him think she was nervous than it was to explain the voices were haunting her
again. She wasn’t worried he was a serial killer or that he’d do despicable things to her once he had
her inside his room—it wasn’t as though she had a lot to live for right now.
No, she was concerned the voices were right, that he’d wake up in the morning and see her for
what she truly was.
Broken. Damaged. Worthless.
Even now, watching them in the shine of the doors, she couldn’t see herself. Not how she was in
reality. The beautiful man holding her, his dark hair richly contrasting against the stark whiteness of
hers, wrapped his strong, safe arms around a woman more shadow than human. A shadow shrouded in
darkness with blood on her hands.
Easily overlooked. Easily forgotten.
If tonight was the only time she’d be remembered as something precious in his life, she was
determined to make an impression. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, Sir.”
The softest ding of sound heralded the elevator’s arrival. As Ava stepped forward to enter, the
world spun madly in a blur of motion as Finn whipped her around to face him, his body forcing her
back into the car with more dominance than she expected.
Her shoulders bumped into the wall, but Finn simply gripped her hips and lifted her until they
were eye to eye.
The moment ranked high on the sexiest moments of her life scale, then rocketed to the top of the
list when those dark gray eyes of his dropped to her mouth, met hers again. “I fucking love it when
you call me Sir.”
“I got that impression, Sir,” she said softly, unsure what he had in mind for her. No, that was
wrong. The intention was clear in his heated gaze—she just wasn’t sure if he’d follow through with it
in a public elevator, one a.m. or not. “But I thought you preferred Master Finnegan?”
His growl ripped through the small space, echoing as the doors closed quietly. Before she could
catch her breath, he stole it with a kiss calculated to set her on fire.
Finn hitched her up higher, his body holding her against the elevator wall as he moved his hands
to a firmer grip beneath her thighs. The design of her dress didn’t give him a lot of room to work with,
but she thanked every god in the heavens for creating a resourceful man.
Breaking the kiss, he set her on her feet and yanked open her borrowed jacket. The damn thing hit
her mid-thigh, and it was obviously in his way. Dropping to one knee, Finn glared up at her. “How
attached are you to the dress, Ava?”
“I…um…” Stunned, she blinked at him. This wasn’t Black Light—those doors could open again
at any moment. “It’s not mine.”
Broad shoulders shrugged. “That’s a real shame.”
Material ripped loudly between his hands, no match for his strength. She’d have some explaining
to do to Rosie when she got home. The tearing sound continued until she felt cool air against her very
bare, now exposed pussy.
Ava squeaked, whipping her hands down to cover herself, only to have Finn smack them aside.
His fingers stroked along her seam, blunt tips finding her slick and wet. She hissed at him, mortified.
 Chuckling darkly, he rose and hefted her again. This time, her legs were no longer confined by the
dress and wrapped of their own volition around his hips. “When we get back to my room,” he told
her, nipping at her jaw, her ear, “I’m going to eat that wet little pussy until you scream, Ava. I think
you’re smart enough to know what I want to hear when you come, aren’t you?”
Oh mercy, she’d created a monster. Her fingers dug into his hair. “I think so, Master Finnegan.”
“Good girl.” He plundered her mouth, more fiercely than before.
When he lifted his head again, she was little more than a puddle in his arms. Evidence of her
excitement dampened her thighs, and the ache in her belly was unbearable. She managed to swallow.
“Ah, Sir?”
He bit her bottom lip.
Stifling a quiet moan, Ava jerked her chin toward brightly lit panel behind him. “Shouldn’t one of
us press the button?”
His forehead rested against hers, and the man she’d spent the evening with resurfaced. “Came on
a bit strong, didn’t I?”
Ava shook her head. “I had my suspicions you were holding back on me, Sir. It doesn’t bother me.
After tonight, I think you know I’d trust you to do just about anything to me.”
“Don’t tell me that,” Finn groaned, then pressed his lips to her forehead and eased her down,
holding her until she could stand without her knees wobbling. “You can’t imagine the things I want to
do to you, little dove, and tonight isn’t the night to demonstrate them.”
The rags of Rosie’s dress fluttered around her legs; Ava tried not to giggle as Finn rearranged the
scraps of fabric to cover her pussy. Or tried to, anyway. He’d done a thorough job decimating the
dress and now it didn’t want to cooperate. “What if it’s our only night?”
Giving up with his task, he let the two halves gape open and shook his head. “I stand by what I
said earlier, Ava. I gamble with every part of my life, put my future in fate’s hands, and tonight, I hit
the goddamn jackpot.” He stepped away to jab the button for the top floor, then turned to face her as
gears ground into motion and the car ascended. “In my eyes, we’re not standing here waiting for the
night to end. Not at all. The moment you said yes to this, we began building what comes next.”
What comes next. Was it so easy for him to think along those lines? She really hoped so, because
she didn’t want to be the only idiot dreaming of a happy ever after stemming from a single night of sex
and debauchery.
Because, honestly, it sounded ridiculous, didn’t it?
Eight hours ago, she’d have scoffed at the notion herself if she hadn’t been so busy fighting the
urge to cut to stave off the nerves. Yet here she was with a man she didn’t know from Adam,
contemplating keeping him in her life.
God, she really wanted to keep him.
Of the handful of people in her life, Finn was the only one who got why she cut. He saw past the
obvious explanations and arrowed straight for the truth even she didn’t fully comprehend; her
addiction was a drug, the drug killed the pain, and she was an addict.
Rosie tried her best to help but coming home to find Ava bleeding out on the bathroom floor had
hammered the tiniest wedge into their relationship. It hadn’t affected it, not yet, but their friendship
had the potential to splinter into two halves and send them in different directions with the smallest
argument.
Ava didn’t want to lose her as a friend.
The elevator doors swooshed open. Ava jolted, found Finn watching her with the same intensity
he’d monitored her with during their scenes. With an embarrassed hum, she gave him a small smile
and hoped he wouldn’t—
“Lots of secrets in that head, little dove. Secrets that hurt.” His hand slipped beneath her elbow,
long fingers curling around her arm. With a gentle tug to get her moving, he escorted her from the
elevator into an elegant hallway decked out in rich cream and dark wood. “It’s okay to have secrets,
we all have them. But when they start causing you pain, they need to be set free.”
They need to be set free.
Finn’s words resonated inside her. How many times had she thought that about herself? When she
dragged a blade over her skin, she wasn’t trying to kill herself. Suicide wasn’t an act she’d ever truly
thought about, not with intent, but sometimes she wondered if it wouldn’t be easier to just cut that
extra bit deeper and fade away into peace.
The night Rosie found her on the bathroom floor, she hadn’t meant to cut so deep. The voices had
been so persistent, distracting, and her hand had slipped, the metal sinking further than she’d
expected. For an instant, there’d been an oh shit reaction as she watched blood run like a river. The
realization that she might not be able to come back from it.
Then the burn had eclipsed everything.
Beautifully, blessedly.
She couldn’t remember hitting the floor. There was the vaguest memory of going numb from the
top of her head to her shoulders. The strangest sensation. Then Rosie had been there, crying and tying
a tourniquet around Ava’s forearm, wrapping her wrist up in a towel.
No, she wasn’t suicidal, but neither was she afraid of death.
“I can’t promise I won’t cut again,” she said quietly as they walked on plush cream carpet toward
a door at the end of the short hallway. “You said it yourself, Finn. It’s an addiction. I’m an addict.
Cutting myself is the only thing that’s given me a reprieve from what’s in my head since I can
remember. But,” she continued quietly, “I can promise you I’ll do my best not to give in to the urges.
I’ll try.”
Finn said nothing as they approached the door. Ever the Dom, his face gave nothing away, which
was a little nerve-wracking. Her stomach erupted with butterflies as he slipped his hand into his
pocket and pulled out a card key. With a quick flick of his wrist, he passed the card over the lock and
the security system responded with the faintest buzz of approval.
She went willingly when he tugged her inside. She only had a second to gape at the room before
the door closed behind her, then her back rapped into the wood. His palms slapped on either side of
her head, caging her between his arms.
“I suggest you try hard, Ava,” he told her sternly, gray eyes boiling with emotion. “Because if I
ever find a mark on this body that isn’t already here, I’ll give you something to cry about. Do you
know what figging is?”
She gulped. “A distant cousin to fisting?”
Finn’s lips twitched, she swore they did. But his eyes didn’t lose that authoritative glare. “Not
even close, little dove. Figging is where I take a big, thick piece of ginger root and whittle it into
whatever size and shape I feel appropriate.” His accent thickened until he all but drawled the words.
“Then I bend you over and make you hold open those cheeks so I can see that tight asshole of yours.”
Her buttocks clenched against the door. She had a feeling she knew where that rhetorical piece of
ginger would be going. “Could we avoid involving my ass in this, Sir? It’s very particular about
things going in the wrong direction.”
This time, he smirked. “Got a clever mouth on you now, don’t you, little dove? Might just have to
put that to use in a short while. When it comes to punishment, your ass is always going to be a prime
target.”
Oh, fantastic.
Finn reached down and took both sections of the ripped dress in his hands. The look he gave her
was dark and devilish—a damned good look for him, she had to admit. “You’re right to look nervous,
Ava. Once that ginger plug is pushed deep into your ass, you’ll know the true meaning of burning. Oh,
that got your attention,” he said with a low laugh. “Trust me, I know subs who thought they could
handle it. Believed they could grit their teeth and endure. Do you know what they did, little dove?”
Mesmerized, Ava shook her head slowly.
He grinned as he wrestled her out of his jacket and tossed it aside. There was an edge of wicked
glee in his eyes that told her he was enjoying the idea of punishing her. “They cried. Begged and
pleaded with their Doms to take it out. Whimpered and wailed and wriggled their abused bottoms to
make the burning stop. But nothing punishes an errant submissive like a figging.”
Wetness streaked her thighs. The combination of his voice and his words reignited the ache in her
belly. It only deepened when he finished what he started in the elevator and ripped the rest of her
dress in two.
The strength in his hands was just incredible.
She couldn’t protest when he stripped her completely, the ruined garment fluttering to the carpet.
All she had left were the heels a kind member of Black Light had kept spare in her locker, and Ava
got the impression he had plans for them.
Fingertips trailed lightly over her skin, tracing the side of her neck, the tops of her shoulders. She
shivered, though the air was pleasantly warm. “Please, Master Finnegan. Please don’t tease me.”
Callouses on his palms scraped her breasts as he cupped them, rough thumbs rasping over her
nipples. “I can, can’t I? For the next six hours, I can play with this body, tease it, torment it in so many
lovely ways. Edge you until you can’t take it anymore and beg me to fuck you. Yes, I do like that
idea.”
“I can beg you now, Sir, if that’s what you’d like.” Please, please don’t make me wait six hours.
“I don’t think I’ll make it to morning without imploding.”
“Let me be the judge of that,” he advised, and dragged his fingers down her center until he found
her, wet and hot. He stroked her gently, delving between her labia and pushing two fingers deep
inside. “Hmmm, yes, this is quite the predicament, isn’t it? Here was I, fully intending to end the night
with coffee and getting to know you better, and this greedy little pussy is squeezing me so nicely.
What to do, what to do.”
They could get to know each other in much more carnal ways. Her hips rocked, desperate to feel a
bigger, thicker part of him despite the lingering soreness from their previous antics. Her voice was
almost a whine when she spoke. “Please, fuck me, Sir. Please, I need you.”
“Have I told you how much I appreciate your manners?” He leaned down, setting his teeth against
the side of her neck. Her nerves flared to life, remembering just how it felt being marked by him, over
and over.
She tilted her head, submitting silently to his dominance.
Finn rewarded her with a slow, hard bite. The pressure of his teeth was perfect, finding the
delicate balance between pleasure and pain. Exquisite.
Her legs trembled when he released her, then licked the mark he left behind. Her pussy clenched
around his fingers, her breath coming in fast pants.
“Turn around, Ava, and brace your hands against the door.” Finn stepped back, slipping his
fingers free and licking them clean with lips curved as though she was sweetest thing he’d ever tasted.
 “I don’t think I can, Sir.” Her knees felt weak; if she moved, she would fall. They weren’t her
shoes and they were considerably taller than she was used to. What was it with women and heels
designed to turn their legs into skyscrapers?
“Are you okay, Ava? What color are you?”
“Oh, green, Sir, all the way. But I’m a little wobbly and these shoes aren’t helping.” Being
unbearably aroused and trying to press her thighs together while balanced on two ridiculously slim
props was not on her list of skills.
“Are they hurting your feet?”
“No, Sir.”
“Good, then they stay on.” He set his hands on her hips. “Turn to face the door, little dove. I’ve
got you.”
Yes, he did. She never felt safer than when she was in his hands, even when he pushed her to the
edge of her limits. She might not know the true extent of her limitations, of how far he could push her
until she cried red, but she knew he was the only one she wanted to take her to that point.
With tiny steps, guided by the pressure of his fingertips, she managed to totter in a small circle
until she faced the door. Her palms were damp when she set them against the wood, her skin humming
with anticipation.
“Keep your hands where they are,” Finn ordered, “and take a couple steps back. That’s it, good
girl. I want your ass presented for me, just like this. Spread your feet wider apart. Good girl,” he
drawled again when she obeyed, and frissons of pleasure skated along her spine. “These heels do
marvelous things to your legs, little dove.”
There was a slight strain in her calves and thighs. Just enough to make her aware of her position.
She could only imagine what she looked like from Finn’s vantage point, but if it made him happy, who
was she to complain?
She heard the metallic jingle of a belt buckle unfastening, the whir of a zipper lowering. She grew
wetter, hotter. It had only been a few hours since she’d had the joy of him inside her, but it seemed
like forever.
Foil crinkled. The silence in the room thickened, tension brewing inside her as she waited for a
sign, a signal, that the storm was about to break.
Finn was the thunder and the lightning, a veritable tempest of power and testosterone designed to
raze a woman to ruins. Ava dreaded to think of the carnage he could unleash on her at his peak.
She jerked when his fingers slipped between her thighs again, fondling her slick folds. If she
weren’t so precariously balanced, she’d have wiggled her butt at him. Another plea waited
impatiently on her lips.
Movement behind her. Slow, open-mouthed kisses pressed to each buttock before his mouth
roamed up her spine, the faintest spike of stubble scraping sensitive skin, until he discovered the
ultra-ticklish spot right between her shoulder blades.
Ava squealed, squirming madly as her nervous system went haywire.
Finn’s dark laughter only added to the exquisite torment, his hands fanning the sensation of being
mercilessly tickled. She erupted into fits of giggles, her fingernails digging into the wood as she
struggled to anchor herself with the door.
Giggles morphed into a carnal groan as seamlessly as his cock breached her slick center. Despite
everything her pussy had been through the last few hours, there was still the faintest sting of
discomfort as she stretched to accommodate him.
Her head fell forward, her hair tumbling toward the floor in a short waterfall of white. “Oh my
God. Finn!”
For all his impatience, her lover moved carefully. Slow, easy thrusts worked his considerable
size inside her. “Tell me when you’re ready, Ava, then hold on tight.”
There was more than this? This felt like everything. She could stay here with him forever in this
moment, connected and so very alive, savoring every languid stroke of his body inside hers. She
didn’t have a lot of experience with sex but when she was with Finn, she didn’t feel like she needed
any.
He was her Dom, her lover, her teacher, her rock.
He surged into her, sheathing himself completely and forcing her up onto her toes. Her internal
muscles rippled and spasmed around him in frantic flutters, seeking release. “I want to hear your
voice, little dove.”
“Please,” she whimpered. “Finn, please.”
One big arm curled around her hips tightly, pinning her against him. His right hand rested beside
hers on the door. “Safe word if it gets to be too much. I don’t want to hurt you when you don’t need
it.”
“What if I want it?”
There was a long, long pause before he spoke, and his tone purred with all the decadent
dominance she could ever need. “Well then, my dirty minx, you better speak up.”
Dirty minx. She hated derogatory names—her father had turned it into a vicious art form—but she
loved it when Finn called her that. Maybe because her father had never used that term in particular.
Or maybe it was just Finn’s tone when he said it, a combination of stern authority and caring lover
rather than abusive asshole.
Ava ground back against him, making her intentions as clear as she could. “I want it all, Sir,” she
said breathlessly, braced for whatever he unleashed. “I want all of you.”
Finn didn’t hesitate. Her moan of protest as he withdrew died quickly, reborn into a wild cry of
abandon. The thick length possessing her pistoned into slick heat, his pelvis hammering against her
ass with better accuracy than any machine.
Harsh wet slapping sounds filled her ears in time with the jolts assaulting her body. Sweat snaked
down her spine, her own wetness slicked her thighs. There was nothing tangible to hold onto, nothing
to wrap her fingers around and clutch. Her hands bore the force of his thrusts, her nails scoring the
wood as she sought purchase.
He was on a mission to give her exactly what she asked for.
When her foot slipped out from beneath her, he just hitched her back into position and changed the
angle of penetration. Nothing was stopping him from destroying her so perfectly, she’d likely still be
calling out his name in the morning.
The orgasm hit her square in the womb with all the strength of a hurricane, tearing through her
with reckless freedom. Pleasure arrowed into every nerve, every cell, turning her rigid with the sheer
bliss of release.
Someone, far away, screamed with delight.
“Fucking take it, Ava,” Finn growled against her shoulder, his breath ragged.
There was no stopping the perfect rhythm, the obsessive tempo they’d started. Even as the orgasm
began to wane, he was right there fueling the next. Shoving her into its path, dangling her in front of it
as it came at her with sharp teeth of pleasure and pain. It ripped into her, shredding her down to the
soul.
Sobbing, she felt her sweaty hands slide down the door. Her arms and legs were trembling, tiring,
and she was in no position to keep herself upright. She’d never tested her endurance this way, never
had such rigorous and elating sex.
“Finn, I can’t…I can’t…”
It seemed like heaven and hell collided. It was the only way she could describe it. Finn’s thrusts
grew sharp and shallow. She barely had the chance to catch a single, full breath before he drove deep
on a roar, sending her overtaxed body into a third and final spiral of agonizing overindulgence.
The world splintered, her vision fractured.
Highly sensitive, her body felt too vulnerable. Like the gentlest touch would set her aflame. Her
breath heaved, her throat raw from exuberant cries. Beneath it all was the blessed, brilliant burn.
Finn extracted himself with the utmost care, sweeping her up into his arms before she gave into
exhaustion and collapsed on the floor. She was flying, her mind buzzing on a rush of endorphins so
rich and sweet, they turned her blood to syrup.
Saying yes was the best decision she’d ever made.

Finn

F inn couldn’t stop watching her, touching her, as she slept. His fingers committed the curves and
planes of her face, the softness of her skin, to memory. Her scent was locked into his senses,
subtle and fragrant enough to have his cock raring to go yet again.
As time ticked towards dawn, fatigue tugged at him, begging him to sleep if only for an hour
before he had to begin the new day with a flight back to Montana.
But he couldn’t waste what precious time he’d been given with Ava. He hadn’t lied when he said
he wanted a future with her. When he said he could see himself with her twenty years down the line.
His plans for the rest of the night had been royally screwed before the elevator doors closed
behind them. Visions of sharing drinks and conversation on the sofa by the big window in his hotel
room before letting her bathe and taking her to bed…well, they’d been pleasant thoughts, he
supposed, before they’d shattered with a handful of words.
“Still trust me?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, Sir.”
Goddamn it, she was fucking perfect for him. He knew it, she knew it, so what was the problem?
There was very little in the way of roots here in D.C. holding her back. Rosie, of course, was an
important part of Ava’s life and not one he wanted to keep the little submissive away from.
But the rest of it? Ava was a tiny seedling under a canopy of bigger, thriving flowers. Washington
D.C. wasn’t good for her; the city was suffocating her, and she didn’t even realize it.
How tempting it was to take her back to Montana. Sweep her away to acres of open land and sky.
There was nothing he couldn’t—wouldn’t—give her. There was a freedom in his world that couldn’t
be found anywhere else—she would flourish away from the constraints of society.
However, it all came down to one choice, and Finn couldn’t ask her to make it now, not tonight.
She’d already been so brave, first at Black Light, then by taking the plunge and leaving with him to
come back to his hotel room.
He could let her go now before the hooks in his heart burrowed any deeper, but he wasn’t sure
he’d survive her if she returned to Montana with him and then changed her mind. Oh, he’d let her
walk away if that was what she truly needed—hell, he’d make sure his pilot flew her wherever she
wanted to go—but Ava was the last risk he was willing to take with his heart.
He was on the wrong side of forty, after all. Not decrepit by any stretch of the imagination, but if
children were ever to be in sight of his horizon, Finn wanted to be young enough, fit enough to be part
of their growing up.
His body was already feeling the effects of too many kicks and near-misses from horses and cattle
alike. Years of hard labor would hit him hard in a few years’ time, just as soon as he slowed down
from his hectic routine.
Ava was the first woman in too long to count who made him hope for more.
Finn rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Usually, he wished to be home, on familiar
territory with a choir of nature and lowing cattle as a soundtrack. This morning, he resented the
thought of leaving the bed with Ava still in it.
No matter how much he stalled, the world still continued to spin. The clocks didn’t stop, planes
didn’t cease taking off at their designated times, and procrastinating wasn’t going to solve any of his
problems.
Still naked, he slipped from beneath the covers and padded silently to the bathroom, flipping the
light switch and leaving the door slightly ajar so Ava would know she wasn’t alone if she woke in the
dark and found him gone.
He set the water running, then paused. The room had to be cleared by ten a.m. so the cleaning
crew could come in and get the room prepared for the next guests. Ava was in dire need of sleep, and
she would benefit from a little tending—which galled him, seeing as he should be the one catering to
her every whim.
Rubbing his palm over his face, he backtracked into the room and found his phone in his
discarded jacket. Returning to the bathroom, it only took a quick phone call to the reception desk
several floors below to ensure the room was booked for another twenty-four hours.
It was amazing what doors a black credit card could open.
He stepped beneath the water, his bones groaning under the weight of the heat. Too many hours in
the saddle, too many long days of wrestling cattle. Earning a fortune in his line of work had cost him
in other ways but he couldn’t regret a single moment of it.
Not when it led to standing here, in an extravagant hotel most people would never see the inside
of, with the woman of his dreams sleeping just feet away. If every choice he’d made resulted in
having Ava in his life until his last day on earth, he wouldn’t do a damn thing differently.
On the counter, his phone trilled.
He knew what it was without looking at it—his pilot, Arthur, was one of the promptest men of
Finn’s acquaintance. The message would be a reminder of Finn’s flight time and when the driver
would be waiting outside the hotel to collect him for the journey to the airport.
Arthur did not like delays and expressed his disapproval without remorse. Finn tolerated his
attitude because the man was a fucking magician at keeping Finn on track, handling the nitty-gritty
details of his travel schedule.
On any other day, Finn would simply reschedule his departure and deal with the backlog of
paperwork and issues that were no doubt multiplying by the hour at home.
But today he had a meeting with one of his biggest cattle buyers, and the man was known to be
possessive with his time. If the asshole wasn’t more generous with his wallet than his watch, Finn
would have already severed ties with him, but as it stood, their business arrangement was lucrative
and not one Finn wanted to lose. Finn soaped up and washed off, wishing Ava was in the stall with
him so he could feel that wondrous skin under his palms one more time. Kiss her sweet mouth again
and leave her lips swollen and raw as a remembrance of just how good they were together.
Within thirty minutes, he was showered, dried, dressed, and packed. There was little left to do
except say goodbye.
With his heart aching, Finn closed the curtains so the approaching dawn would remain at bay. By
the time Ava woke properly, he would be high in the sky, with miles between them. That time didn’t
need to come any sooner than it had to.
Denim stretched over his thighs as he crouched beside the bed and cupped her face. So sweet, so
innocent. He wouldn’t leave her here any longer than he had to, he vowed. The moment she was sure
she wanted to leave D.C. and discover what he could offer her in Montana, he was coming back for
her.
“Ava,” he crooned softly.
Nothing. Not even a twitch of her slim fingers.
“Ava,” he said again, running his thumb over the soft plumpness of her lips. He loved her mouth,
the eagerness with which she kissed him. The mouth capable of felling him to his knees when she
begged him to fuck her. “Ava, baby, I need you to wake up for a few minutes.”
Her eyelashes fluttered first, then her feet moved under the covers. He was sorely tempted to
crawl back in there and wake her thoroughly. “F-Finn?”
So sleepy. Yeah, he’d have no issues rousing her every morning at dawn before he slipped out to
start his day. The thought had him hardening swiftly. “It’s me, little dove. You can go back to sleep in
a minute, okay? Just listen to me for a second.”
“Still dark?”
“Not for long, little dove. It’s still early, but I have to go. I’ve made arrangements for you to stay
here until tomorrow, so I want you to get as much sleep as you want. If you need anything, you call
room service and order whatever you like.” He ran his fingers through her hair as her head rolled
toward him. “I meant what I said, Ava. This isn’t goodbye, not at all.”
Blue eyes widened. “You’re leaving?”
“For now. I want nothing more than to take you with me, little dove. I mean that. What we have,
we don’t find it every day. That damn roulette wheel brought us together last night and I’m not
prepared to throw that opportunity away.”
He could see her brain struggling to process his words, exhaustion battling with lucidity. Still, it
didn’t stop her from trying to sit up. “Give me five minutes, I can be dressed and ready to go.”
“Not today, little dove. I shredded your dress, remember? I’ll make sure some clothes are sent up
for you. Use one of the hotel robes if you need to—they’re almost as soft as your skin.” He stroked a
fingertip down her cheek. “Take today, recharge your batteries. What I’m asking you to do isn’t
something you should decide on a whim,” he told her with a sad smile.
“What are you asking me?” she shot back, clutching at his hand as he set it on her thigh.
“I want to make a life with you, Ava. In Montana. It’s a rough life, it’s hard work, but it’s
breathtaking and beautiful. I think you’d like it, I honestly do, but it’s something you need to think long
and hard about. Whether you can live with country life, without the perks of city living.” Damn it,
tears were shimmering, ready to spill. “No, little dove, there’s no need to cry. None at all. I know
what I want, without a doubt. I just have to know this is a decision that won’t ruin the rest of your
life.”
His time was running out. Any moment now, his phone would chirp with a message from Arthur,
asking him if he was in transit. His pilot would already be going through the safety checks on the
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