Saturday, December 12, 2015

On the twelfth day of December my true love gave to me...
Dominated and Claimed - Granite County 1

Haley Kenyon opened his eyes and then slammed them shut again as sharp knives stabbed into his eyeballs. Taking a second to let the piercing pain settle down, he lay there taking stock of the situation.

With growing concern, he realized he wasn’t lying on the floor. Under his body there was the soft cloth and cushiony feel of a mattress, except for his head which lay on something hard, warm, and alive.

Carefully Haley opened his eyes. The second he recognized he was in a bed, he panicked and tried to jump up and get the hell out of there. He got nowhere. Huge muscular arms encased him, pulling his naked back against a rock-hard warm, fuzzy chest.

Haley kicked his heels backward as hard as he could, desperately trying to connect with the legs behind him. Using his blunt fingernails, he pinched and gouged at the person, trying anything to get away. His world spun and he found himself lying on his back. He was now completely covered by a solid unmovable body, with his arms stretched above his head and held down by firm rough hands.

Lifting his head, Haley did the only thing he could think of and sank his teeth into the muscle right above his captor’s left nipple. He bit down as hard as he could until the skin broke.

Haley couldn’t believe the man wasn’t yelling in pain, pulling away, or doing something to defend himself. In the past his uncle, dad, or brother would have beaten him to a pulp by now. But this man didn’t move. He just endured the pain, making Haley’s hair stand on end.

“Let go, beauty. I’d rather wear your scars of passion, not fear.” The voice was deep, rich, and almost made Haley’s heart stop beating in complete horror, because it was the sheriff’s.

Slowly, Haley pulled his teeth out of the sheriff’s flesh. Blood oozed and formed trails that made their way down, clinging to the hair on the huge plane of furry chest before him.

“I’m sorry,” Haley said. He looked up into the handsome face above him. The sheriff had such dark-brown eyes they were almost black. And to Haley’s relief they didn’t look angry.

“Let’s go into the bathroom so you can clean this up,” the sheriff said.

Letting him go, the sheriff got off of the bed, giving Haley a wonderful show of flexing muscles and a gorgeous, tight ass. Turning toward him, the sheriff wrapped his hands around Haley’s wrists and pulled him up until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Directly in front of him, between the  man’s naked slightly spread legs was one of the most mouthwatering packages Haley had ever seen. Haley ducked his head, but peered through his lashes at the heavy cock. The sheriff wasn’t hard, but even soft he was built just the way Haley liked his men, thick, long, and cut. The tiny slit centered in the prominent head tempted Haley’s tongue to taste and explore.

The sheriff stepped back, pulling Haley forward until his feet touched the worn, carpeted floor. Straightening up it became apparent that Haley was nowhere near the size of the man before him. At five-seven he barely came up to the sheriff’s morning scruffy chin.

Not saying a word, the sheriff let go of his hands and pointed one long finger toward the adjacent bathroom. As Haley passed, he felt very small compared to the big man, yet he wasn’t afraid. Confusion and nervousness swirled around inside his head, but fear didn’t factor in his emotions. Now that was new. Haley had learned early in life to be afraid of larger men.

In the bathroom he went to the medicine cabinet and pulled out a tube of antibacterial ointment and some bandages. Turning, he watched the sheriff lay a towel on the closed toilette lid and sit down.

“Come clean it up, beauty,” the sheriff ordered.

Haley somehow, with trembling fingers and a mind going six ways at once, managed to find a washcloth and wet it. Using soap he gently started cleaning the still oozing wound. All the while his eyes took in the tan skin dusted with hair that covered the sheriff’s wide chest. Thick muscled thighs were spread, letting him easily step between them. Every once in a while the outside of his leg would brush against the soft skin of the sheriff’s inner thigh. It was starting to become a battle to make his cock quit reacting to the tingles from those small touches.

Dabbing the wound dry with a clean towel, Haley fumbled around enough to open the tube and spread the healing cream onto the perfect set of still weeping teeth marks. Securing the bandage in place, Haley stepped back. Only he didn’t get far as a band of steel pulled his bare bottom and balls onto one of the thighs he had just been admiring.

A hand engulfed the side of his head and his face was tucked against the sheriff’s chest and neck. “Do you always attack your bed partners when you wake up in the morning?” the sheriff asked.

“No.” Haley didn’t want to talk. He wanted to keep breathing in the sheriff’s clean soapy scent and maybe rub his hard cock through the fine hair covering the sheriff’s body. Lifting his hand he pushed his fingers through the hair between the sheriff’s pecs, loving the feel of the soft curls separating and tangling around each finger.

“Put your hand down, Haley. No playing until we talk,” the sheriff ordered.

Haley dropped his hand. Shit, he had gotten lost pawing the sheriff. Thinking a little distance between them would be a good idea, Haley tried to get up. It became crystal clear when he wasn’t allowed to move that Haley had a very dominating man on his hands. And it irritated the hell out of him that his cock hardened even more from the discovery.

“Why are you here?” he demanded. “Why are we both naked? Oh crap, I need to get something for this headache from hell.” Red surged before his eyes and pain lanced through his brain. Keeping calm was now on the top of his list until he got a handle on this hangover.

Seconds later, with his hand trapped in the sheriff’s, Haley was being led back across the faded blue carpet. On the cheap nightstand next to the bed was a bottle of pain relievers and lime-green Gatorade.

Haley pulled back on the hand holding his when the sheriff put one knee on the blue and white striped sheet-covered mattress, ready to climb onto it. He told himself he didn’t care about the fantastic ass on display before him and purposely looked at a picture of an airplane on the far wall.

“Stop,” he said. “I’m not getting on that bed.”

The sheriff turned back around and sat on the bed, piercing dark eyes searching Haley’s face. “Do you have a problem with beds, or is it me, Haley?” he asked.

“I don’t do beds,” Haley stated. He watched the instant frown mar the sheriff’s handsome brow, but he didn’t care. Beds only brought pain and terror.

The sheriff let go of Haley’s hand. Haley didn’t want to acknowledge how much the loss of their connection bothered him.

“Go take a couple of pills and drink at least half the bottle.” The sheriff nodded toward the nightstand.

Haley wanted to stamp his foot and tell the sheriff to go hang himself, but the pounding in his temples had him again following orders, popping two tablets into his mouth, and drinking the refreshing aid.

Setting the bottle back onto the end table, he turned and confronted his uninvited guest. “If you’re not going to tell me why you’re here and why we don’t have any clothes on, you need to leave.”

The big sheriff leaned back on one hand, displaying acres of skin and muscles that Haley refused to acknowledge that he noticed. “Come sit down next to me and I’ll answer any question you ask.”

Haley was back to wanting to stomp his foot. The man didn’t listen to a word he said. “I told you, I don’t do beds,” he stated. “Let’s get dressed and then you can leave.”

The sheriff’s face was impassive, and his dark eyes never wavered from Haley’s face. Haley lasted all of thirty seconds. Slowly, making sure the irritating man knew he was not happy with the situation, Haley dragged his feet as he took a few steps closer to the hated bed.

Quick as a wink, two hands picked Haley up by the waist and his naked ass was again sitting on the sheriff’s hard thighs. Strong arms held him close and he felt soft lips brush against his forehead.

“You were too drunk to drive last night, so I brought you home,” the sheriff said.

“What about the naked part?” Haley asked.

“I answered one of your questions, now you answer one of mine.” Warm hands rubbed the skin on Haley’s back, making him arch in pleasure. Then the stupid man had to open his mouth again. “Tell me why you don’t like beds.”

Haley couldn’t help it. Sometimes pure crap came out of his mouth. “That really isn’t any of your business,” he retorted.

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