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  FULL RIDE

  An Ellora’s Cave Publication, January 2005

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

  1337 Commerce Drive, #13

  Stow, OH 44224

  ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-4199-0129-X

  Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):

  Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML

  FULL RIDE © 2005 GAIL FAULKNER

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  Edited by Mary Moran.

  Cover art by Syneca.

  Warning:

  The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. Full Ride has been rated E–rotic by a minimum of three independent reviewers.

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-rotic), and X (X-treme).

  S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.

  E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature.

  X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

  Full Ride

  Gail Faulkner

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Mercedes E Class: Daimler-Benz Aktiengesellschaft Corporation

  Jell-O: Kraft Foods Holdings, Inc.

  Chapter One

  Prin almost staggered in shock as she stepped into the room and saw the man who faced her. This was not what she’d expected! That familiar visage was one she knew well, yet not at all. His aura of power and domination overwhelmed her, just as it always did in her dreams. Logic insisted this could not be the dark warrior from her nightly journeys into submission. Every other sense insisted that it was.

  He stalked silently across the plush carpet to circle behind her. Cool eyes inspected her, as she stood in the required stance, naked. After Prin removed her only garment, a coat, she stood before him with her legs spread wide, elbows behind her back clutched together, her chin lifted, eyes lowered submissively. Coldly, his eyes moved down her back, to the slope of her flanks, slowly they traveled over lightly muscled legs to slender ankles above elegantly arched feet in five-inch heels.

  A mirrored wall allowed her to see his hand swing back. It cracked loudly on her bare backside before she had time to brace herself.

  “Present yourself, bitch. Bend over. Grab your knees and spread wider,” his deep voice barked at her. Commands came in swift succession as she staggered inelegantly.

  “More! Arch your back. I want cunt and ass on display.” He stepped back as she adjusted herself, steely eyes locked on private flesh.

  That smack fired right through her like a bullet. It pitched her headlong from panicky and shocked to intense arousal. His demands effectively focused her entire attention onto the shameful submission he required.

  With an arrogant grunt, the dark stranger turned and walked back to the bar. She heard ice tinkle into a glass then a soft splash as liquid flowed over it. Bent this way, Prin could no longer watch him in the mirror. Still, she felt him return to her like an aggressive force of nature. His breathing was deep and even as he came to a stop behind her. Time dragged while he examined her fully exposed rear end. It was a leisurely scrutiny of everything normally hidden from the world.

  Feverish heat swept up her body while she waited. Her utter vulnerability to him in this stance intensified with every moment on display. Her flesh prickled in humiliation while this stranger stared at her. The naughty thrill of being looked at like this vibrated down her body.

  The shapely globes of her bottom stretched wide to showcase that innocently clenched hole between them. Her cunt, pulled open by the extreme arch of her back, was swollen in obvious excitement. His gaze tracked up the damp folds and he could see the protrusion of her clit as it begged for his attention. Luscious breasts were clearly visible between her legs, mounds of soft temptation that rocked gently with her every pant. She made a perfectly lovely, carnal picture.

  Prin’s legs trembled as sweat bloomed across her entire body. It wasn’t all fear, but most of it was. Moisture began to trickle down her exposed inner thighs in shameful testimony to her excitement. The stranger, what he made her feel, the strain of presenting for him, it all came together in a decadent mix of fear, wicked anticipation and humiliation. It created a smoldering concoction of emotions too long absent from her life. Evidently, one could not get over the need for this.

  Time hadn’t dimmed the wicked cravings. She wasn’t sure anything could.

  She’d tried. Oh, how she’d tried. After Kurt’s death, Prin was convinced she could shut the door on that portion of her life. Be a “normal” person. Ha! Four long years of wanting, denying, refusing to face it brought her to this place. Naked. Perched on high heels, bent over and spread as wide as possible for a stranger.

  * * * * *

  Prin had been somewhat overwhelmed ever since Dave handed her the key-card in the car after casually telling her they were going to the Grand Hotel. Her Dom was waiting for her in the Presidential Suite on the top floor.

  Automatically taking the key-card she questioned, “Are you sure about this?”

  Dave chuckled and glanced at her. “Oh, yeah. Our boy does it right, babe. I wouldn’t let you near a loser, Prin.”

  “But the Grand is the most expensive place in town!” she exclaimed, her tone turned suspicious. “You didn’t tell him to take me here, did you, Dave?”

  Dave laughed outright at that. “No, it was all his idea. I got my instructions just like you did.” He chuckled again then took pity on her. “He’s in town on business, Prin. It’s where he regularly stays. Don’t worry about it. He didn’t put himself out.”

  When Prin stepped into the Presidential Suite, she froze. It was her dream Dom. How could it be him? Shock slammed into her and shattered all the giddy anticipation that enabled her to actually go through with this.

  He leaned against the bar across the room, obviously waiting and somewhat irritated. Gleaming brass and mahogany framed the grim warrior who’d haunted her dreams for the last twenty-four months. She stared at him blankly and absorbed the crash of reality doing a head-on collision with fantasy. Her mind whirred feverishly trying to explain this. Nada. Nothing. Total shutdown loomed when the reason she’d come there flashed back to her. Frantic to deny the fantasy part of this, she snapped out of the shock.

  To cover her bewilderment, Prin swiftly followed the contract’s instructions for entrance into his domain. He couldn’t possibly be the man from her dreams! That was even crazier than agreeing to this hedonistic night in the first place.

  The man before her stood at least six-foot-four. His intense face was not “pretty boy” good-looking. More like “Oh, damn, I’m wet!” good-looking. A compelling face you wanted to keep looking at but didn’t because he might catch you staring.

  His glossy black h
air was a little too long. His silver-blue eyes were much too intimidating and disturbingly cool in their intensity. They were startling against his dark coloring. His cheekbones were prominent, as was his nose. The sculpted lips were neither too thick nor too thin. His height made him just a bit frightening. A heavy layer of muscle and the obvious confidence were just overkill as far as Prin was concerned. All those features put together told her of the fierce Native Americans who resided within his family tree. They made up a face dipped in sin and washed by the sun.

  Her current situation was rudely brought back into focus as he slid the ice-cold glass down her spine. It glided between the globes of her ass until he held it upright, pressed against her tight rear entrance.

  “You’re aware I’ll use every hole.” It wasn’t a question. The deep rumble of his voice was calm, almost musing. “The agreement you signed clearly stated that. I want to be sure you understand. There are no safe words. You have given me ownership of this body, and I will control it until the agreed end-time. I know what I am doing. I know what you can take. I’ll know if it’s too much.”

  The glass moved away from her quivering flesh as he took a drink then set it down. Remaining silent, Prin stared down at the thick carpet. It was part of the agreement. As soon as she stepped through that double door, she became his to command. No talking without permission, no nothing without permission.

  One long masculine finger snaked out to hook a swollen cunt lip. That rough digit held damp flesh exposed a drawn-out moment. Moving around to her side, he clamped a forefinger and thumb onto her distended nipple in a hard grip. Firm fingers manipulated her breast simply to watch soft flesh jiggle lewdly. The large hand opened abruptly to engulf her breast as he enjoyed how it overflowed his big paw, how it pressed out between dark fingers as he squeezed roughly.

  Her nervous panting was the only sound in the room while he handled her like a piece of meat. This examination made her feel as if she were standing on an auction block for public viewing. In a way she was. He could reject her at any time. That was also part of the contract. If she displeased him in any way, he could send her away. No questions, no explanations, no arguments.

  Feeling scrutinized like an item up for sale was new for Prin. Was it intentional? Did he know how this affected her?

  * * * * *

  It was Her! Shock overwhelmed him as she’d stepped into the room. This living, breathing woman was His Dream Angel. Lounging against the bar as she entered saved him the humiliation of sinking to his knees in stunned disbelief.

  As ordered, she’d arrived exactly on time in a trench coat and heels. Looking up at him, her lovely face seemed to be all big brown eyes. Behind her, masses of rippling strawberry-blonde hair streamed down her back. The two of them had stared at each other for almost a full minute after the door clicked shut behind her. Neither moved until she stripped off the coat and laid it over the back of a chair. Just as he’d mandated in the contract, she wore nothing under that coat.

  Dream Angel was five-foot-seven, with a familiar oval face. Her large eyes were slightly tilted and the color of warm chocolate. The luminous skin was pale cream that looked like silk. Her nose was slender and straight. Those lips were full and softly expressive. Damn! She wasn’t what he’d expected. This exquisite woman had been made for sin.

  It was a good thing she’d snapped out of their mutual stare first and followed her instructions. He’d been too astonished to move. Then that delectable body went on display and he’d been unable to stand still. His struggle for composure became monumental as he now moved around her. This inspection of the curvy body that trembled and gushed at his every touch stretched his self-control to torturous limits.

  Anxious to think of a way to regroup after the shock of seeing her, he returned to the bar as soon as possible. Getting a drink was an attempt to calm down. He was desperate for a chance to look at something other than her spectacular body.

  Breathe, idiot! his brain hissed at him. Just take deep breaths and think of baseball. Squeezing his eyes shut the moment his back was to her didn’t help. That sensuous body was burned into his eyelids. He could barely remember what baseball was. Every glorious inch of her trembled and glowed like a vision that wouldn’t fade.

  He’d dreamed of this woman for what seemed like his entire life. Each feature, right down to the delicate facial bone structure was made for his pleasure. She embodied the perfect figment of the male imagination that showed up for every jack-off session since the age of twelve. Most guys used any number of visuals but he’d only used one. His entire life there had been only one face in his mind. This was HIS woman!

  Recently, twenty-four months ago to be exact, she’d become so much more. Exploring her in his mind kept him sane like nothing else could. Defining their relationship in intimate detail was his only escape from the endless, grinding pain. Dream Angel became more real than the utter hell he’d endured. She made it possible to drift away when reality wasn’t worth living anymore.

  Dream Walking is a handy talent when you’re locked up in the armpit of the world. The practice of Dream Walking among The Nations was a loosely held secret. Most people believe Peyote rituals are required to walk with spirits. That mistaken conviction shields numerous unexplainable events. Grandfather once told him Dream Walking would save his life. He’d not thought about the gloomy statement. Not until he needed his Dream Angel to survive.

  His last mission went “bad” in a big way. He’d acquired the hostage. However, in doing so had stumbled into a meeting of two terrorist organizations. It wasn’t just the local yahoos, but highly trained guerrilla forces present when he went in. He’d delivered the hostage to the extraction point, but for the rescue to succeed he’d remained to lay down cover fire. Hence, some really pissed off psychopaths acquired him.

  His life then became the source of fierce competition between the two terrorist leaders. They passed him back and forth each month. Several high-stakes bets rode on which faction would break him first. These were very creative individuals when it came to torture. His death would lose the bet for whoever caused it, so they’d been careful not to kill him. The big mistake was assuming that since he was captured alone and the government wasn’t actively negotiating, nobody was coming.

  At one point during a Dream Walk, he’d decided to remain in his Dream Angel’s arms. He planned to just stay with her until there was nothing more. She wouldn’t let him, and gently breathed life back into him with her words. She fed her spirit into an almost dead will to survive. Dream Angel demanded he believe in hope. As it turned out, rescue came a week later.

  It required a clenched jaw and gritted teeth to keep from sucking wind at the astonishing sight of his Dream Angel in the flesh. Years of concentrated endurance training kept his facial muscles immobile as she moved to her required position. Mostly the hours of torture endurance did it for him. Nothing else even came close to the self-control required to dominate her as she needed right now.

  That brought him smack up against his most pressing problem. How was he going to alter the deal? Now this venue restricted him. Now that it was her. This wasn’t how he wanted to start with her. For her, he was perfectly willing to fall on his knees and beg her to teach him. Teach him her touch, her smell, her essence. Teach him the ways to make her smile, how to know when she was sad. Show him the things he needed to know to memorize her soul. A steady stream of expletives spiraled in his head. Damn that airtight contract he’d both written and signed.

  How was he supposed to comply with that contract when the other half of his soul had just walked through the door? Not some stranger! The contract gave him this one night. Only this night, governed by the rules they’d both agreed to. Then it ripped her away from him. There was no margin for error. No time to move cautiously into a relationship. He had to find a way to reach into her and touch her from the inside out. Show her she was already the air he breathed. Well, hell. How he’d get around it wasn’t clear right now. Nonetheless, the abili
ty to alter a plan in a fluid situation kept him and his kind alive a long time. Another talent passed down from a people who had refused to be cornered or contained.

  He needed to wrap his mind around the reality of this woman immediately. The fact that he’d stumbled onto the only lover who could complete him was hard to believe. He’d never dreamed that she could be alive in his time. For about two seconds he contemplated asking her to trash the contract and start over. The problem was, doing so released her to walk out the door, if she wanted to. No. No. Wait. This could work. The contract restricted him, but it also controlled her. He could do this! His first priority had to be binding her to him. The Dom/sub relationship was actually a pretty effective way to demonstrate how completely they belonged together. Besides, just looking at her sucked the air from his lungs, he knew in that moment that he could not, would not, let her go.

  Her breasts were large enough to rest on her slender rib cage when she stood tall and proud. Tipped with rosebud nipples blushed a deep pink. Dream Angel’s waist nipped in above a gently rounded tummy. Enchanting hips flared out to perfectly balance those magnificent breasts. Her cunt was smooth and naked. It glowed damply with silky moisture.

  He’d never seen anything so perfectly beautiful and yet sinful. His stomach cramped as he examined her. How could this woman possibly be unclaimed? Was every damned man in the upper Midwest blind and stupid?? Evidently, thank God. One thing was certain. She was claimed now! She just didn’t know it yet.

  Right now, he’d like to know why the hell Dave hadn’t introduced them in a “normal” situation. Good old Dave, who talked him into this, was due for a long chat.

  Well aware of the base beast awakened within him, he already knew it was a possessive, obsessive snarling monster with only one mate. He’d found her. Every male molecule in his body rose up and demanded that he take her, NOW!!