Mastering Maeve Read online

  “Oh,” Maeve breathed in desperation. “Please, mercy. Fuck me.”

  “Since you asked so nicely,” he agreed. “On the bed, on all fours, and wait for me. I want those legs spread offering me a good view.” When she was satisfactorily in position, he stood back from the bed, watching her, leaving her to stew in her hunger.

  “No rocking your ass like that, trying to steal pleasure,” he admonished. “I’d hate to have to punish you again. Actually that’s a lie; I’d love to punish you again.”

  Maeve did her best to keep still; she really wanted to get on to the good stuff now, but it was so hard not to gyrate her hips. Her body was crying for satisfaction, but he was torturing her with pleasure. She fought her natural instincts with every fibre of her being. Why was it the moment she was not allowed to feel pleasure was the moment her perverse body seemed to sense it the most, she wondered.

  He returned naked, but as she tried to turn to kiss and touch him, she was warned to hold her position or else. He climbed on the bed behind her. Just as she was lamenting in her own head that there was little tenderness in their reunion, she felt the lightest of kisses fluttering over her heated backside.

  “You’re so beautiful. I do not deserve to have you here with me. Thank you for believing in me, even when I let you down,” Larry said softly. His hands cupped and caressed her breasts, this time only lightly tweaking the erect nipples. He caressed her body with his hands and as he leaned in, she could feel his naked erection wilfully probing her, demanding satisfaction. The velvet soft tip was moist; she wanted to taste it but was forbidden to move. She groaned as it found its way almost of its own accord between her legs. Ignoring the potential consequences, she moved her hips to ease his access, coaxing his hard cock easily into her waiting gorge. The relief was immense as she felt him thrust and she met his movements greedily. The tell-tale tingles started from her toes and she knew she was powerless to stop her body as she convulsed in pleasure. He kept her there, spiralling on the edge of reason, as he thrust for his own pleasure now, hard and deep, over and again. Finally as he reached his crescendo, her body was right there with him once again, leaving her so exhausted that all she could do was flop down on the bed.

  “I’d talked myself out of how good we were together,” he admitted after he regained his breath. “I couldn’t let myself remember. I didn’t want to hold you back.”

  “For God’s sake,” Maeve scolded. “How could you think you hold me back? You opened a new world for me. Anyway, we’re going round in circles; you can take your shopping detail like a man and from now on, if we must refer to this time, we’ll just call it the chicken days.”

  “The chicken days?” Larry queried.

  “Yep, the time you chickened out,” she laughed, but there was a definite tinge of sadness in her tone.

  Maeve proved to be as good as her word as she dragged him to just about every store in New York over the following week. And to add insult to injury, she preferred walking to taking cabs; she claimed it was because she wanted to see everything around her, but really it was all about revenge,

  “Surely even women can’t enjoy shopping this much. Look, my arms are at least two inches longer from carrying all these bags,” he moaned.

  “Put up and shut up, you earned it, longer arms and all,” she warned.

  “You’ll never wear half of these clothes, you prefer to wear jeans, what about the excess baggage?” he continued.

  “Be quiet or you’ll be travelling in the hold with the baggage,” she threatened with a grin.

  She noted that the one and only time he didn’t complain about the volume of purchases was an afternoon they spent in the Purple Passion store, an adult shop in Chelsea. On this occasion he came out with more purchases than she, and he didn’t permit her to see his wares, saying he wished to surprise her when the time was right. The very thought sent shivers down her spine.

  Chapter Twelve

  Finally Maeve and Larry got round to talking properly about the future, as if it was a real event rather than some far-flung distant notion. The neutral territory of New York seemed to make it easier to break down the barriers. Maeve told him of how she had handled the hotel situation, and that her motive in doing so was to leave her free to move to Texas to be with him. She was elated to hear that he had done something similar with the ranch. It proved to her that, before the ‘chicken days’ as she insisted on calling them, he had been serious about making a life with her.

  Although he had talked about his ranch a lot, it was only now that Maeve was beginning to comprehend how remote Burke was. Even Clifden seemed like a thriving metropolis in comparison. Maeve had never realised that there were towns that small in America. She had just assumed that when Burke was designated a city, that meant a densely populated area; after all, there were only a few designated cities in Ireland and some of those were considered dubious in status. She was certainly having second thoughts about where to live. Larry, on the other hand, had no qualms about Ireland; there were ranches aplenty, although Maeve was quick to point out they were called beef farms and nothing like the vast size of a ranch in the States. He was more than happy to try a life there. He liked the climate, scenery, and people, but was saddened to learn that if he wanted a really decent beef farm, then Connemara was definitely not the best option, as the coastal land was not as rich as the midlands or south. They agreed that a trip to Burke before returning to Ireland would make a lot of sense, so Maeve could see it first-hand.

  They flew into Angelina County and drove the fourteen-mile distance to Burke. Maeve had never seen anything quite so sparsely populated. Sure, Connemara was rural, but farms were small and frequent houses and villages dotted the landscape; there were constant signs of life. Here the distance between homesteads was much vaster. There was the hint of a large city in the distance, which Larry informed her was Lufkin. The US-59 brought them round by Diboll, which although more urban than most of the journey, was still no bigger than a lot of Irish towns. It was all so different from what she expected and her shock was visible as they drove into the tiny city of Burke.

  “That’s it, that’s Burke?” she said in a stunned voice. “Is there no more? Clifden is much bigger.”

  “Yup, this is home,” he laughed. “Wouldn’t do for an Irish town though; there are no bars here. Maybe that’s why it stayed so small—no watering holes.”

  “What, no pubs? Are you serious?”

  “Burke is what we call a dry city; no alcohol is sold here. If you want a beer, you gotta go further afield.”

  “So what did you do for a social life when you were, say, eighteen?”

  “I grew up in Lufkin. It’s a much bigger city, but you can’t buy alcohol in most states until you’re twenty-one.”

  Maeve was flummoxed by what she saw all around. If she had any idea of an exciting life in America, it was being abruptly shattered. How would she begin to make friends her own age in what she considered a village of only about seven hundred people? And her mind started racing ahead—what about schools and sports facilities for children? It was unlikely that such a small city would afford much along those lines. She’d have to look into Lufkin a bit more; she didn’t realise her face was almost grimacing at the thought.

  “Hey, even if we choose Texas, we don’t have to live on the ranch,” he reassured her with a laugh.

  “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just that I was wondering what we’d do for a social life and things. I didn’t expect this,” she said, waving her hand to indicate the green surrounds.

  “I can see that,” he replied. “This is us now.” Larry turned off the road onto a long driveway. At first there was nothing to be seen but green lush fields and cattle, but in the distance she could see some huge pine trees and the outline of a traditional timber-framed house. As she had expected, the house was a lot bigger than most Irish farm houses and kept in immaculate repair. The trees gave way to an open yard. Larry drove his pickup into the garage un
der the side of the house. The door led them up some stairs into a large open kitchen/diner/family room. The floors were of a bleached wood with massive rugs in the living area, making it seem cosier. There were floor-to-ceiling windows in the dining and living areas and the bright country look cheered her heart. It was certainly a kitchen she could get used to working in.

  He brought her upstairs to his bedroom so she could freshen up or lie down. The king-size bed caught her fancy, as well as the size of the room. Massive walk-in closets lined the walls and the master bathroom held a huge bath and shower.

  “Wow, you really can do everything bigger and better than us, can’t you?” she gasped. The shower was her first port of call, wanting to rid herself of the stickiness of travel in the late September heat. When she came down, there was a veritable feast of chicken wings, ribs, Caesar salad and bread rolls, all courtesy of Larry’s housekeeper. Maeve was far from used to being waited on like that. It embarrassed her. It was one thing as a guest in a hotel, but in someone’s home, it just seemed wrong.

  “There’s an army of men needing food every day,” Larry justified. “Joanna’s cooking is simple and filling, but she’s not used to feeding women. She put extra effort in today.”

  Joanna came to clear the dishes, but Maeve wouldn’t hear of it; she figured it was enough for her to look after all the men. She was a sturdy woman in about her forties, not stylish, but neat and tidy. Maeve noticed with approval that her hair was pinned back. It was one of those things she was a stickler for around food, being raised in the catering industry.

  “That Caesar salad was delicious. I have to get you to show me how you make the dressing,” Maeve enthused as she helped clear the dishes.

  “It’s real easy, I’ll show you tomorrow. How long y’all stayin’ for?”

  “I’m not sure yet; about a week, I think. It depends on Larry.”

  “What part of Ireland are you from, near Dublin?”

  Maeve smiled as she answered. She knew the woman was only making polite conversation; she probably knew as much about Connemara as Maeve knew about Burke. “It’s a really small country. Dublin is on the east coast and I live on the west, but it only takes about three-and-a-half hours to travel between them. I can’t believe the vastness of here. You can get from one end of Ireland to the other in less than a day. God knows how long that would take here.”

  “I don’t know, I’ve never been out of Texas.” Joanna replied. Maeve had noticed that there were a lot of small enough farms around Burke, suggesting a low income in the area. Coming from Ireland, she knew that the more land you had, the better chance there was of making it pay.

  While they were sitting over coffee, Larry said he had some business to take care of on the ranch the next day, and would be gone for a while.

  “Oh, can I borrow the car and take a trip into Diboll?” Maeve asked.

  He laughed at her pronunciation. “We call it Die-ball, honey, not Dib-bull, but sure, you can use the car. I’ll come back at about ten and go out for a short run to make sure you’re ok with the automatic transmission and right-hand driving. Don’t take it out until you’ve been out with me.”

  Maeve thought he was being ridiculously chauvinistic. After all, no one had shown him how to drive in Ireland and the manual transmission was way harder to grasp, but she decided to let it pass. Sometimes she just didn’t have the energy to fight.

  Larry was already gone next morning when she arose and Joanna was clearing away the dishes after the men’s breakfast. The kitchen looked like there had been an explosion in it; the massive table was a disaster zone. Joanna greeted her with a cheery ‘good morning’ as she cleared away.

  “Might be best to bring your breakfast into the living room; now what can I get you?” she offered.

  Maeve grabbed a mug, filled it with coffee, and popped some bread in the toaster. “If you let me have this, I’ll help you with all that,” she volunteered. “Why not have a coffee with me first.”

  She soon learned Joanna had been a single mom, widowed in her early marriage, leaving her with three small children. Her life had been spent juggling her children and subsistence jobs cooking and cleaning for ranchers. She’d been with Larry since he started up; he paid better than most and his kitchen was the most up to date, so she liked it there. It seemed he was a fair employer and popular among his workers.

  “It’s no life for a young man hidden away out here; he needs company,” she remarked. “I was wondering what was keeping him in Ireland so long. Now I know.”

  Between them they made short work of the clearing up, filling two dishwashers and scrubbing pots and pans. Maeve helped Joanna start the lunch preparations, then, looking at her watch, she discovered it was eleven thirty already. She was surprised that Larry hadn’t been back to take her out for a test drive, but she was impatient to explore so she decided to go ahead, after a brunch of fresh fruit and waffles. Driving around the yard a few times, she soon discovered that the automatic transmission was easy to manage.

  Getting to Diboll was no problem; it was a clear run and she was careful at pedestrian crossings and junctions to look for people coming from both sides so she wouldn’t get confused. Even the left-hand turns weren’t as bad as she had feared. She wandered around and somehow managed to find her way to the history centre and got lost in a mountain of old newspapers. Hunger finally stirred her from her reading. It was four p.m. already. Time she was heading back.

  When Maeve got to the car, she saw her cell phone sitting on the seat where she left it when she had been using the sat. nav. system. She berated herself for her stupidity; talk about asking for a break-in. Picking it up, she saw five missed calls from Larry. She didn’t bother returning his calls as it would take less than ten minutes to get back to the ranch, even driving slowly. She edged out of the parking lot, getting her bearings again, remembering to drive on the right. There was some idiot tailgating her all the way; she had tried pulling over to let him pass, but he had only slowed down too.

  All went well until she was within a mile of the ranch where she came across some cattle that had broken out onto the road. Maeve instinctively reached for the clutch to drop down a gear, but of course there was no clutch and she ended up pressing down pretty sharply on the brake, causing the tailgater to rear-end her. Fortunately nobody was hurt and there was only slight bumper damage to both cars, but this delayed the journey still further as the sheriff had to be called in. He sent the idiot packing, saying he could expect a claim from Larry’s insurance company, but he insisted on driving back to Larry’s behind Maeve.

  When Maeve pulled up at the ranch, she was totally unprepared for the scene that met her. And it didn’t help that she was accompanied by the local sheriff. Larry was pacing the yard, shouting into his phone.

  “It’s all right, Clive, she’s here, call off the search,” he yelled as she opened the door. The sheriff stepped out of his car simultaneously.

  “Hi, Larry, this little lady seems to have had a small accident in your car. Riley was following her to see who was driving your car and the asshole—pardon me, ma’am—was driving too close.”

  “Shit, Maeve, are you ok?” Larry interrupted him. She nodded as the sheriff continued.

  “Not much harm done. She was rear-ended a little, but since she was in your car with a strange-sounding accent, I thought I’d just look in to ensure she really was a houseguest of yours.”

  Once the initial relief of her return and the shock of the accident had passed, Larry’s fury returned.

  “I thought I told you not to take the car out until I brought you for a test run,” he scolded. “I have half the ranch out looking for you and now we’re behind in our work. Why didn’t you answer your cell?”

  “Sorry, I forgot it in the car and I only saw your calls when I was ready to leave, and then I thought I’d be back within a few minutes. I never thought.”

  “Go inside, we’ll talk about this in private,” he warned, mortifying her in front of the sh
eriff. She went up to his bedroom in a sulk until he followed her.

  “Get ‘em off,” he growled, pointing at her pants.

  “No!” she replied firmly. “You have no right.”

  “No, maybe I don’t, but you’re gonna get it anyway, either now, or later, when you ask for it. I’ll be pissed at you and you’ll be sulking with me until you do ask; maybe in a few hours or maybe even days. If you leave it until that, it’s an extra ten strokes with the belt on top the rest of the spanking.”

  Maeve realised it was true; the silent fighting would be torture and she would come back for it later just like she had before. There was something about his tone and the threat of worse to come that cut right through her resistance. His anger was almost palpable and his masterful manner made her weak, both with desire to earn back his approval and in truth with a darker submissive desire, a need to cede to his control. In spite of her anger and sense of injustice, she could still feel her pussy throb even as she trembled. It was as if she was almost hypnotised into submission and she started fumbling with the button on her trousers, muttering “Ok.”

  Before Maeve had time to reconsider, Larry had grabbed her and upended her across his knee, roughly pulling her trousers down without even opening the button, which popped off, rolling onto the floor. He started spanking, hard and fast, with no let-up. She couldn’t begin to keep count. Her breath was catching and she started crying as much from outrage and temper as pain. But he was taking no pity on her.

  “You put your life and other people’s lives at risk,” he barked as he smacked.

  “The accident was not my fault, you heard the sheriff,” she retorted angrily, earning her even harsher wallops.

  “It may not have happened at all if you hadn’t disobeyed me. And you had me frantic with worry when a simple phone call would have solved that.”