Page 43 of Savoring Sienna
“Unfortunately for you, kitten, your time for running is over.” The words came out like ice-coated granite with each syllable carved in unshakeable authority. “I’ve indulged in this game of yours out of respect, but that ends here and now.” He stepped closer, crowding her space with deliberate intent. “We’re in a relationship, Sienna, and unless you look me in the eye right now and eitherredout on it or end things properly, this behavior stops. No more hiding, no more ducking into empty rooms, and no more surrounding yourself with human shields. That’s not how we handle problems, and you damn well know it. Are. We. Clear?”
“Crone, I told you... I can’t offer you what you... it’s just not fair.”
“I’m a grown ass man, Sienna. I can decide for myself what I’m willing to accept and what not.” His eyes held hers, unflinching. “Now, I want an honest answer. Do you want our Dom/sub relationship to end? Here, at this moment?”
The thought hit her with the force of a brutal blow, bringing with it a cascade of devastating losses of stolen moments in class where their eyes would meet and time would stop, orthe transformative sessions in the Dungeon where he stripped away her defenses and rebuilt her stronger. More so, his steady presence had become the foundation of her world. Cold dread washed through her at the prospect of losing it all.
“I... are we really discussing this now?” She glanced anxiously at their rapt audience, noticing how the students were watching with undisguised fascination.
“That’s not an answer, Sienna. Stop stalling.”
Even knowing the selfishness of her choice, she couldn’t walk away. Not now, maybe never. “No, Master Crone, I don’t want us to end.”
“Then this nonsense ends now.” He straightened to his full height. Authority and confidence radiated from every line of his body. “So, my recalcitrant subbie... where’s my morning kiss?”
Sienna darted a quick glance at her students before leaning in to brush a chaste kiss across his lips. She tried to retreat, but his hand shot up to fist in her hair and held her in place.
“Try again,” he growled against her mouth. “Like you mean it.”
Before she could respond, he took control, his lips claiming hers with fierce possession. The kiss was as much a declaration and punishment as it was a promise—everything he had been holding back this past week was poured into one devastating assault on her senses. His tongue swept into her mouth, demanding a response she couldn’t help but give. Heat bloomed in her chest, spreading like wildfire through her veins as she melted against him.
Whistles and cheers from the bus barely registered through the roaring in her ears. Nothing existed except the feel and taste of him, or the way his fingers tightened possessively in her hair.
“Holy shit. No wonder I couldn’t find you, Master Crone. Get a room, why don’t you? All this testosterone is waaay too much for my weak little heart this early in the morning,” Bobby’sbreathless voice finally broke through the haze. “Though maybe save it for after my shoot? The light will be perfect then for some smooching pics.”
Crone pulled back slowly. His eyes were dark with promise as they met hers. He kept her pressed against his side with one arm wrapped firmly around her waist. “That’s how you kiss me in the morning, kitten.” His voice carried clearly to their audience. “Try another chaste kiss and I’ll whip your ass so you can’t sit for a week.”
Finding her balance again, Sienna managed a sassy grin. “Promise, Master Crone?”
The sharp swat he landed on her ass drew another round of whoops and catcalls from the bus.
“Put her over your knee, Master Crone!” Kay called out. “She’s been impossible all week!”
“Don’t tempt me,” Crone rumbled, though his eyes sparkled with amusement as he guided Sienna toward the bus. “We’ve got a photo shoot to complete first. But later…” He leaned close with his breath hot against her ear. “Later, we’re going to have a long discussion about appropriate ways to handle emotional upheaval. One that involves you, me, and my favorite flogger.”
Sienna
Rawhide Ranch
The eastern sky was just beginning to blush when they reached the meadow. Early morning mist clung to the grass like gossamer, creating an ethereal backdrop against the mountains. Two ranch hands had already transported the horses there thatBobby had requested for the shoot. Magic, the black stallion with white stockings would be the main feature. Peanut and Starling and a couple of others were background fillers. They were grazing lazily with Hercules, a dapple gray Clydesdale nipping at their tails.
Sienna tried to focus on directing her students’ setup, but her attention kept drifting to Crone as he checked Magic’s tack. Each movement of his hands over the leather was confident. The ripple of muscle beneath his flannel shirt as he adjusted the stirrups sent waves of heat coursing through her body. Every practiced motion reminded her of how those same hands moved over her skin. Forcing her gaze away, her cheeks bloomed red as she caught Kay watching her with a knowing smirk.
“Alright, people!” Bobby clapped his hands, his earlier nervousness replaced by focused energy. “The light’s perfect and we’ve got maybe thirty minutes of this golden hour. Master Crone, please mount up. I want to catch Magic’s first reaction to the morning air.”
Crone swung into the saddle with fluid grace, the movement so natural it seemed as if Magic was an extension of his own body. The stallion danced beneath him, his nostrils flaring at the crisp mountain air, while Starling pranced beside them with a soft snickering.
“Perfect!” Bobby’s camera clicked rapidly. “Now ease him into a slow walk toward that patch of morning glory. The backlight from the sunrise will create a gorgeous silhouette.”
Sienna watched through her camera’s viewfinder as she demonstrated proper framing techniques to the other students. But the technical aspects of photography seemed to fade away as she observed Crone through the lens. The fluid grace of his seat in the saddle flowing seamlessly into those subtle shifts of his powerful body as he guided the horse with invisible commands, stole her breath. When the morning light caught the silverthread of his scar, she nearly forgot to breathe. Through her lens, she captured his essence… strength and control wrapped in raw masculine beauty.
“Prof?” Bobby’s excited whisper broke through her reverie. “I think I got it. You know that one shot you said that’ll make my portfolio. Want to see?”
Sienna moved to Bobby’s side, aware of Crone’s eyes tracking her movement even as he guided Magic through another pass. Her breath caught when she saw the image on the camera screen.
Bobby had captured Crone in profile with the rising sun creating a golden halo around horse and rider. Magic’s mane lifted in the morning breeze, merging with the mist rising from the meadow. But it was Crone’s expression that held her. That mixture of serenity and absolute command that defined him. He was hatless in this shot with the scar along his forehead catching the light in a silver testament to survival that only enhanced his magnetism.
“It’s perfect, Bobby,” she managed in a slightly hoarse voice. “The composition, the lighting, and the emotional impact, that’s exactly what we’ve been working toward.”
