The Ranch Ch. 06

Katie paused in a moment of confusion. True, she was aroused, and the idea of Mark going down on her was tempting. She just didn't expect to be so active after her traumatic experience. But after having her hurts treated by Gerard, she'd showered and taken a long, luxurious bath, which relaxed her. And there was no denying she was physically attracted to Mark.

Seeing Katie hesitate, Mark removed her hand from his trousers, kissed her cheek, down her neck, over the top of her cleavage, planning to slowly move down her body, his body thrumming with the anticipation of finally getting to taste her. She tilted her hips upward so he could ease her pants down to her knees, and he sensually kissed along her hips before gently moving his head to the apex of her thighs.

Katie shifted and moaned, sliding her hands through his hair as Mark gave her pussy a soft, open-mouthed kiss, easing his tongue between her lips, intimately stroking about the area, circling her clit.

"Oh, Mark," she breathed, her eyes shimmering with arousal as Mark smiled widely between her legs, glad to hear his name on her lips, and not Cory's. His mouth moving in and around her pussy felt wonderful, both incredibly soothing and sexually tantalising.

"Is that good?" he asked thickly, flicking his tongue out to teasingly dab here and there, tasting her sweet juices as they eased across his chin while he ate her out.

"Yes, oh," Katie panted, beginning to buck her hips upwards, encouraging him. "You-You're very good at this," she said breathlessly, fairly surprised.

"Mmm-hmm," Mark's responded wickedly, sliding his tongue inside her.

"Oh, wait!" Katie flinched as Mark's tongue touched on the area left most tender by Greg's abuse. Mark immediately raised and moved up her body to look worriedly into her eyes.

"Did I hurt you?" he frowned, brushing soft, dark strands of hair from her brow.

Katie shook her head. In response to Mark's deep concern, her throat tightened and her eyes brightened with tears, realising she hadn't quite recovered from Greg's encounter as she'd thought. Ignoring his straining erection, Mark quickly reached down and drew her pants up around her waist. Holding her close against him, he experienced a moment of shock when Katie unexpectedly pressed her chest to his, moved her arm about his neck and kissed him, full on the mouth.

"I'm sorry to tease you," she said tremulously against his mouth, "But, I do like your kisses."

Not needing to be told twice, Mark immediately fixed his mouth to hers. His kiss became more demanding as his hand brushed up her waist to cover her pert breast, rolling a nipple between his fingers as it hardened to his touch. He groaned into her face, feeling his lower body burn with the need to be inside her. Suddenly he realised he should have known better than to get into bed with her in the middle of the night. What the hell was he thinking?

"Katie," he panted. "Please."

"Please, what?" she asked, baffled.

"I'll go slow, I'll be gentle," Mark urged her, brushing his hand across the crotch of her pyjama pants. Suddenly he completely understood how Cory had struggled to take 'no' for an answer. Never having asked a woman for anything, Mark couldn't believe he'd actually stooped to the low point of begging for sex. Blushing, stuttering, tenderness and pleading - a number of vastly foreign experiences had followed his meeting with Katie.

"May-be?" Katie answered uncertainly, looking bewilderedly into his desperate blue eyes. Mark was amazingly hot, but he'd never struck Katie as a sensual lover. God, yes, she wanted him. But she knew he was large, and she was scared he'd hurt her, not be able to stop once he got going.

"Please," he pleaded thickly, kissing down her neck and sending small thrills from her chest to her pussy as he squeezed her breast. "I promise I won't hurt you."

"Oh..." she sighed contemplatively as Marks mouth persuasively kissed up her jawline to her lips, his tongue sinuously sliding against hers as the kiss became more passionate.

They guiltily jerked apart at the sound of Gerard disapprovingly clearing his throat from the doorway.

'Drat that doctor!' thought Mark savagely, running a hand awkwardly through his dishevelled hair and cursing that he'd left the front door open. Thanking God that Gerard hadn't walked in on them five minutes earlier, when his head was between Katie's legs, Mark ruefully reflected the interruption was probably karmic - his penance for disrupting Cory the other night.

"Katie, are you ok?" Gerard asked in concern, noting her eyes glittered with unshed tears. He glared at Mark with stern reproach.

"Yes, Gerard, I'm fine," Katie quickly answered in a small voice, thoroughly embarrassed.

Gerard discreetly set his eyes on the floor, giving the amorous pair opportunity to readjust their clothing and positions. In an impression of absently rubbing a hand across his chin, Mark subtly wiped Katie's wetness from the lower-half of his face. Then Gerard strode into the room and turned on the corner lamp. Both feeling like a pair of hormonal teenagers sprung by a parent, neither Mark nor Katie could meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry to intrude," Gerard almost drawled, "but more police have arrived." Noting how Katie's eyes widened in fear, he went to sit beside her on the bed and laid a consoling hand on her arm. "I'm sure Mark can deal with them alone," he said kindly. The kindness left his eyes as he looked at Mark expectantly. "Now, if you wouldn't mind?" he asked bluntly.

Mark reluctantly got off the bed and followed Gerard out of the suite.

"I see you don't let the grass grow under your feet," Gerard remarked, as the suite door closed behind them.

"I was worried about her," Mark explained shortly, annoyed that he felt the need to justify his presence in Katie's suite.

"You, or your manhood?" Gerard snorted derisively, wondering whether unusual beauty in a woman was a blessing, or a curse. He was certainly glad he didn't have any daughters to worry about. "That girl is in a vulnerable state," he sternly lectured Mark. "The last thing she needs right now is more...male attention."

Mark grit his teeth at the well-deserved censure, and didn't answer. He shoved his hands down his pants to better conceal his erection and irately strode ahead of Gerard toward the lobby.

********************

As soon as Mark and Gerard left, Katie hastily dressed in a pair of designer navy jeans and a black jumper. She didn't want to speak to the police, but she was itching to know what was going down. After engaging with Mark in her bed she was wide awake, excited. Instead of taking the elevator, she took the fire-escape stairs down to the main lobby. Peeking through the strip of glass above the door handle, she saw Mark and Gerard shake hands with a couple of men she didn't know, and leave her line of sight as they entered the bar area.

There was no one else about, and she rashly decided to sneak across to the other side of the ground floor to the other set of stairs for a better view. Leaving her shoes in the stairwell, her heart quickened with the childish thrill of her little spying mission. Keeping her eyes on the lobby entrance, she quickly darted from the stairwell and silently scurried to the other side of the lobby. But just as she'd reached the door handle, her heart stopped and she froze as a man walked in the front entrance, catching her fair and square.

Although it was a complete stranger, Katie knew exactly who he was. There was no mistaking the features. The familiar cheekbones, the same mouth. Black, brooding eyes. She was face-to-face with Dom's father.

"Hello," he greeted her courteously, eyeing her hand on the stairway door before resting his gaze on her bare feet with great interest. "Where are you off to?"

"Oh, I-I..." Katie stuttered, desperately trying to gather her scattered wits and fighting the urge to run. "I work here," she finished lamely.

George chuckled. "A shoeless worker? Aside from your exquisite beauty, your nice clothes betray you. Those brands aren't exactly staff issue." He strode forward, and as Katie stumbled back skittishly, he calmly slipped his hands into his coat pockets to give off an appearance of harmlessness. But his eyes devoured her. "So," he smiled, "you must be the Katie who has bewitched my son. I can comprehend his infatuation. Astoundingly, his taste is impeccable."

Katie helplessly shook her head, the dismay in her wide eyes giving her away.

George looked her over for a moment, glad that he'd been held up outside by a phone call, otherwise he might have missed her. Katie was much lovelier than he'd expected, and he felt deeply irritated that Dominique knew his father well enough to keep her a secret. George's tastes usually ran to submissive young tarts, but there was no denying that Katie was physically exceptional, and there was a distinct glimmer of delectable determination in her unique emerald eyes.

At the laughable notion that Dom was engaged to some whore George had never met, he'd assumed she would be very beautiful, perhaps beautiful enough to fool around with before selling to an underground brothel. But this assumption took a sharp turn within a few seconds of meeting Katie. The situation twisted more to his liking than he'd anticipated; perhaps something could be salvaged from this calamity after all.

Though Katie's body appeared a perfect compilation of features designed for sex, George immediately recognised she possessed intelligence and class. The undeniable essence of respectability. As a potential daughter-in-law, she had his full approval. The idea of her being a part of his family, within arms-length, was an increasingly attractive concept. The prospect of personally taming her, while she was trapped in wedlock to his son, was surprisingly exciting.

"There's no need to be shy," George insisted pleasantly, breaking the tense silence. "I admit, I'm disappointed to meet my future daughter-in-law at such a late stage. But, as they say, better late than never." He held out his hand and Katie, in the grip of jumbled emotions, not least of all uncertainty, automatically shook hands with him like a zombie.

Katie would have shut down George's presumptuous manner with haughty distain, but she sharply remembered everything Greg had said. Despite his deceptively easy appearance, she knew this man was more dangerous than his son, and he was powerful, an unscrupulous murderer.

"I'm sorry, you're mistaken," Katie tried to sound confident, but her voice shook slightly under George's shrewd, hawklike gaze. "Your son and I are no longer involved."

"Well," George shrugged mildly, "nothing is set in stone. Such is life, wouldn't you agree?" His dark eyes glowed with lust as they ran over Katie's pouting lips, down over the rise and fall of her cleavage. "You know my son, don't you?" George deliberately clarified. Though determined not to spook her, he was unable to resist moving closer. "I would be surprised if he gave up on love so easily. In many respects, he is his father's boy."

Horrified, Katie had no reply. She could feel the overpowering toxicity of just being in George's presence, and desperately wished she hadn't been so foolishly curious to leave the safety of her room. In fact, there was nothing she'd rather do more than run back to her suite and crawl under the bed. Looking into the ominous, dark gaze fixed on her, she shivered.

"Yes..." George smiled as he narrowed his eyes calculatingly, watching her frightened expression with predatory amusement.

An avid fan of sex games, George had a special table of sorts, in a sealed-off area of his home that he'd love to strap Katie to. He'd like to see her in a virginal white dress, tie her down, smirk into those striking green eyes as they begged him for mercy. Watch her sweet, innocent face twist in despair while she'd scream against a ball-gag. Or perhaps she would look better made up like a whore, bent naked over his black desk, hands tightly bound behind her back with rough leather, legs spread and secured to the desk-legs. He could insert a butt-plug and alternate between shoving his dick between her sweet, pouting mouth and her tight pussy, make her plead for punishment. Countless scenarios, each more enticing than the last. Maybe he would make Dom watch their escapades, and perversely get off on torturing his own son while degrading his daughter-in-law.

Very slowly, George reached up and traced his knuckles down the side of Katie's arm. Katie started when she tried to move away and realised the wall was at her back. With perfect timing, the volume of mens' voices increased, and George quickly vacated her personal space as Mark, Gerard and two others entered the main lobby.

Without a word, Mark immediately stalked across the ground floor and squarely faced George, putting his arm about Katie's trembling form and pulling close to his side.

"Everything ok here?" he asked sharply, his blue eyes burning into George's with unspoken challenge. Though he'd only met Dom on one brief occasion, he also noted the distinct resemblance. When he saw Katie backed against the wall, he wanted to sprint over to them and start throwing punches. Seeing Katie cower beneath George's height sent a sharp stab of anger through his chest as he recognised the same predatory way his father used to corner his mother.

"Oh, yes," George answered easily, his dark eyes alight with amusement at Mark's protective manner. "I was just making Katie's acquaintance."

"Katie needs to rest," Mark answered bluntly, as the others joined them. "Whatever you have to say can be discussed with me."

Frowning at Katie's bare feet, Gerard helpfully stepped forward and she gratefully took his arm, allowing him to steer her away from the group. The other two men watched Katie admiringly until she disappeared into the elevator with Gerard.

"Mark," George nodded to him in greeting.

"George," Mark replied without missing a beat, unsurprised that George knew who he was. Given George's resources, he fully expected it. But he had not expected to find him alone with Katie, and the terror in her eyes had shaken his composure.

"Given recent events, I find myself in a bit of a quandary," George admitted, jerking his head to the other two men, who immediately left for the exit. "Shall we reconvene somewhere private?"

"I don't believe we have much to talk about," Mark replied acidly.

"Oh," George gently pulled a stray thread from his coat sleeve. "There are things, Mark." He met Mark's foreboding gaze and his voice took on a hard edge as he continued. "You're a smart man. It would be unwise to throw away this opportunity to speak with me on civil terms, just because you are unhappy I chanced to cross Katie's path."

They stared at each other for a tense ten seconds, before Mark relented. Despite the surge of reckless anger flowing through him, Mark knew George was right. He'd be a fool to throw George out, when he had a perfect chance to learn more about him. The problem was, Mark was fairly certain whatever his instincts told him about George would make him feel nauseous.

Sitting opposite George, pouring him a glass of quality scotch, Mark felt like a hero exchanging pleasantries with a villain. The stereotypical circumstance where it was only a matter of time before they either agreed upon a compromise, or were at each other's throats to the death. Mark couldn't see how it would result in anything other than the latter.

"I'm very impressed with your property," George complimented the ranch. "It must have cost quite a bit of money to establish. One wonders how a man your age acquires such success."

"My wealth was acquired by legitimate means," Mark replied coldly, and he raised an inquisitive eyebrow at George, as though to say 'what of yours?'

"I suppose in her time of need, Katie was very fortunate to come across this property, with such obliging hosts," George observed cynically.

"If she wants to stay, we are happy to have her here," Mark said carefully. "It's as simple as that."

George inclined his head toward the lobby. "Out there, you behaved as though you were her husband."

"I came to the aid of a friend," Mark snapped, well aware that his protective instincts toward Katie were vastly inappropriate.

"So," George swirled the alcohol about the crystal bauble before sniffing and taking a leisurely sip, "you spend a few days with a beautiful woman, and you feel responsible for her? She is uncommonly beautiful..."

"Why are you here?" Mark interrupted brusquely, his drink untouched.

"Fine, I will get to the point," George set his glass down and leaned forward. "You've assaulted my son. As a result of the fiasco leading on from that, I have lost one of my most effective, reliable workers. I still struggle to comprehend what lunacy overcame him, but that is beside the point. I am willing to make you a generous offer." He leaned back, raising both eyebrows at Mark's outraged expression. "Somehow," he continued sweetly, "I don't feel you will appreciate my generosity."

Mark stared across at George in speechless amazement. Usually Cory was the one to get up in arms, while Mark assumed the role of calming everyone down with a joke. In that moment, Mark's mind skimmed through a number of methods he might kill George, and get away with it.

"You...your 'worker', murdered an innocent man," Mark finally answered, almost shaking with the outrage he felt. "And he did God-knows-what to both my friend, and Katie."

"Ah, your friend," George made a dismissive gesture, "I forgot about Cory." Picking up his glass and leaned back into the armchair, raising the drink to his smiling lips. "He can also be excused." The smile faded as George met Mark's eyes determinedly.

"You've lost a man, and so have I. If you forget about everything that has happened to date, I will forgive your insult to my son, my blood. I will forgive both your and Cory's involvement in creating what I can only describe as a most disastrous cluster-fuck. I will forget all the inconvenience, trouble, and risk you have thrown my way."

"That's all you want?" Mark demanded. "For everyone to just dust-off, and move on?"

"And, I want the girl," George confirmed. "Hand her over to me, keep your mouths shut, and I'll consider the score even."

"You're insane," Mark shook his head in disbelief. "What do you think this is? The Middle Ages?"

"Why do you care so much about a girl you hardly know?" George questioned with genuine interest. When Mark had come to Katie's defence in the lobby, George recognised Mark's actions were motivated by real concern, not possessive lust or sexual jealousy.

"That's beside the point," Mark replied harshly. "My level of interest is irrelevant. Katie is her own woman. She chooses her fate. And we both know she would never choose to leave with you and unite with that piece-of-shit son of yours."

"Careful, Mark," George softly warned. "Be careful with your words." After admiring the blue fire in Mark's eyes, George considered his handsome features, his broad shoulders, and strong, muscled physique. A true Alpha male.

"I would have liked a son like you," George reflected on a side-point. "My son inherited my looks, with all the stupidity of his late mother." He readjusted his coat and absently glanced about the room. "I should like for my grandchildren to inherit Katie's intelligence."

"I sincerely doubt Katie will bear any of your grandchildren," Mark retorted, at last picking up his glass to moisten his throat, burning dry with barely-suppressed rage.

"Possibly not," George answered slyly, and his dark eyes intently watched Mark's face, "but perhaps it would be proper to pass them off as my grandchildren." His smile widened as Mark's jaw dropped, registering the full meaning of George's words.