Page 20 of Leather & Lies

“Because—” My voice breaks as he curves his fingers, but I don’t know how to answer him. “I don’t know! I’m trying to do my fucking job!”

Jackson grunts, but doesn’t stop his steady pumping, working me higher and higher.

“Because I don’t like other men looking at you with admiration,” he snarls. “Because I’m a jealous bastard, and I can’t kill the hands for looking at you.”

Oh.Oh.I try to articulate how fucked up that is, but can’t do anything but moan as he slides a soaked finger between the cheeks of my ass and presses against that forbidden entrance, even as he continues to finger fuck me.

“Jackson,” I whine, not sure if it’s to protest his unhinged possessiveness or because I need to come so damn badly. “Please.”

He brings me to the edge again, holds me there until I’m shaking. Until I’m ready to beg. Until I’ll promise anything. Our game has gone on for too long, and I fuckingneedhim. And I hate myself for it.

Then he steps back, leaving me empty and aching.

“Turn around.”

I face him on trembling legs. His eyes are midnight dark, promising things that make me shiver. That make me want to yield.

“Jackson—”

8

Jackson

She trembles against the wall,proud spine finally bowed, skin marked red from my crop. The sight feeds something primitive in my blood. My hellcat, my defiant little toy, pushed to the edge of surrender.

But not quite broken. Never quite broken.

“Tell me again.” I trace the marks I left, feeling her shiver. “Why did you need to change my training program?”

Her breath catches as I pull my fingers out of her, her pussy clenching around me as I do, as if she doesn’t want to let me go. “The Friesian—” She stops, swallowing hard. “The Friesian shows clear signs of early handling trauma. You’re triggering his fear response.”

Even now, her voice stays professional. Technical. Like she’s not naked and wanting, like I haven’t spent the last several minutes teaching her the price of defiance.

I press my thumb against her asshole, then shove three fingers deep into her pussy, making her gasp. “And your solution?”

“Smaller meals. Less pressure.” Her hips rock against my hand, seeking friction I won’t give her. “Building trust.”

“You’re undermining my authority,” I growl, and thrust my fingers into her again.

She whimpers but doesn’t give up. “Fuck you, Jackson. There’s a difference between earning respect and demanding submission. Horses lash out because they’ve never known trust.”

The words hit like a knife to the gut.

We both know she’s not just talking about horses.

I curl my fingers then pull out, pressing one soaked finger into her forbidden entrance. She tenses, then whines as I work it in, fucking both of her holes at once, her hips tilting to meet my hand.

“Please.” The word falls from her lips like surrender.

I pin her against the wall. Her eyes are wild, pupils blown with need, but that steel core remains unbroken.

“You want to come?” I work her higher, watching her fight her need, her innate desire to soften against me, to submit to my domination.

“You know I’m right,” she says, refusing to give up, even as she rides my hand, throwing her head back as I fuck her roughly with my fingers. “You have to let me work with your staff—they’ve known me for years. Miguel sees me as a daughter.” No hesitation. No submission in the words, just pure professional confidence despite the way she’s soaking me. “Damn you, Jackson,” she cries. “You know I’m right!”

I remove my fingers from her pussy, leaving her leaning against the wall, panting, her eyes glassy with lust and fury. In a moment, I’ve freed my cock. This wasn’t how I meant to take her for the first time, but fuck if I’m going to deny myself a second longer, not when she’s here, naked, needy, absolutely fucking drenched.

She doesn’t move, just watches me. I hitch one of her legs over my arm, then thrust into her hard, swallowing her crywith my mouth. She’s magnificently wet, magnificently tight, her pussy clenching around me as I impale her.

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