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Top Dog: A Rough Romance by Delta James – Sample

Chapter One

“Sawyer,” the Scottish captain barked. “Go find her.”

“Me?” Sawyer Barnes replied, knocking his ball cap back so it no longer covered his eyes as he sat forward, bringing the chair from two legs to four. “What the hell did I do wrong? Wyatt’s the one who found her missing…”

“And yer the one I’m telling to go find her.”

“Shit!” Sawyer said, getting up.

I am fucking going to kill Fitzwallace, he thought… and not for the first time. After I kill him, I’m killing whoever decided that placing a female medic with a black ops combat unit was a good idea, especially in light of the fact that said medic was decidedly beautiful, headstrong, and fearless.

He spent more than an hour trying to locate her within the boundaries of where they were housed. It wasn’t until someone mentioned seeing a little girl from one of the outlying villages that he got a lead on what might have happened. Sure enough, one of the sentries had spotted her leaving with the child, medical backpack in hand. Sawyer grabbed a motorcycle and took off in the general direction of the village, spending another several hours tracking her down.

Once inside the village itself, he began quietly searching for his quarry, gun ready to fire. He had covered about a third of the village when he heard a woman screaming. Shit! he thought, she’s been taken hostage! Sawyer headed toward the sound, a small hut located a bit away from the main group. He moved with speed and stealth. He didn’t know the people of this village. They could be friend or foe.

If they lived through this, he was going to think about doing some serious damage to Rhiannon Farrell, although not the same kind of injury he was planning to do to his commanding officer. From the first moment he’d caught sight of the glorious blonde he had dreamed of spanking her luscious ass before crawling between her legs and fucking her silly.

Sawyer had developed a serious thing for the intrepid medical specialist. Physically she was everything he wanted—tall, curvaceous with a mane of curly blonde hair… the kind of hair that called to a man with certain proclivities to wrap it around his fist as he tugged her head back to devour those sensual lips.

The thought of kissing Rhiannon, running his tongue along the seam of her lips before thrusting it past her teeth to taste and explore was taking up more and more of his time. He could easily imagine doing so while watching her pupils dilate as the sensation of pulling her hair lit up her scalp and kick-started her arousal. That in turn would enflame his own. Sawyer liked being in control, especially of a woman’s desire. He liked nuzzling that became nibbling, which in turn became sharp little bites. By the time he settled himself between a woman’s thighs he wanted her soft, wet, and writhing beneath him so that when he drove his cock up into her, she came apart in his hands, calling his name.

Yeah, that’s what he wanted to be doing in his down time with Rhiannon, not chasing her reckless ass down outside the safety of their base camp. Fitzwallace had specifically ordered her not to leave. Had she listened? Oh, hell, no. Fitz had sent Wyatt to collect her after-mission report earlier in the day. When she wasn’t in her tent, he’d reported back to their commanding officer.

He made his way to the back of the earthen dwelling and listened, trying to determine who might be inside and how many. Another air-splitting scream and he knew it didn’t matter. Sawyer used the muzzle of the rifle to push back the flap that covered the rear entrance and breached the shelter, sweeping the dimly lit interior with his eyes and gun.

“For Christ’s sake, Sawyer, put that thing down,” Rhiannon scolded him. “It’s alright, Cacia. Not to worry. That’s just Sawyer, he’s always butting in where he’s not needed.”

The woman cried out something in her native language that he couldn’t understand, but it was now obvious the cause of her distress. Her swollen belly and Rhiannon’s position between her bent knees let him know he was completely outside the area of his scope and responsibility. He was definitely going to kill Fitzwallace. Rhiannon was right. He had no place being inside a traditional hut with a woman giving birth.

Rhiannon glanced over her shoulder. “This is woman’s work, and you don’t have the right body parts. Either get out or give me a hand, but don’t just stand there gawking.”

Sawyer swung the rifle so that it was strapped across his back but still easily available if needed and closed the distance between them. He was shocked to see one of her hands up inside the woman’s body while the other rested on her distended abdomen, pressing lightly.

“What can I do?” he asked softly.

“Can you pull my hair back out of my face? I should have done it before I started, but Cacia was in so much distress when I got here, I didn’t have time.”

Sawyer cut a piece of cloth from his t-shirt, pulled her silky tresses away from her face, and secured the unruly blonde curls at the back of her head in a high ponytail.

“Thanks, now can you bring that pot of boiling water, open my bag and get the clean towels out?”

“Sure thing.” He searched the hut, located her backpack, and got what she needed. “Can I ask what you’re doing?”

The woman screamed again as fluid was expelled from her body.

“The baby was positioned wrong. I think I have it turned right. Okay, Cacia, your baby wants to come meet you. I’ve got the head in my hand, and I’m going to guide your little one out. Give me one more big push.”

“I… I can’t,” she said in broken English.

Sawyer laid the things Rhiannon needed within easy reach and moved into a position where he could watch for trouble, assist Rhiannon if needed, and try to offer some comfort to the soon-to-be mother.

“Sure, you can,” crooned Sawyer. “If you were a man you couldn’t ‘cause we’re no good at the really hard, painful stuff but you’re better than that. You take my hands and squeeze as hard as you want and just do what Rhiannon tells you.”

The young girl locked eyes with Sawyer, grasped his hands tightly, took a deep breath and pushed. The baby came in a rush from the girl’s body, followed almost immediately by the afterbirth. Rhiannon worked quickly and efficiently to clear the baby’s mouth and nose, cutting the umbilical cord once the baby cried out loud. She cleaned him up, wrapped him in some of the clean cloths before placing him on his mother’s chest. The new mother released his hands and nuzzled her son, offering her nipple to him to suckle to her breast, murmuring her thanks and falling in love with her son.

Rhiannon cleaned up the area, her patient, and herself before repacking her things. She was standing, smiling down at the baby when Sawyer grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her out the back, heading to where he’d left the motorcycle.

He was just about to dress her down for her stupidity in coming to help the village girl, although he greatly admired her bravery, skill, and calm confidence, when all hell broke loose. He had barely opened his mouth when he heard the zing of a rocket seconds before it exploded at the other end of the village, sending dust and rock everywhere and igniting a fire.

The brief silence was quickly replaced by the rapid fire of rifles being discharged, men shouting and women and children crying and then screaming. Grabbing her upper arm, Sawyer steered Rhiannon back toward the motorcycle, now not bothering to be as careful about being seen. There was no way to know from this distance who had fired the mortar.

A bullet whizzed by them as he led them from the comparative protection of the huts toward the vehicle and relative safety. His progress was impaired by the villagers running and shouting. They ducked and dodged through the chaos. Bullets and their shattered targets peppered the landscape as they raced from cover to cover.

High above them, on what he supposed had passed for a lookout, were two men in traditional clothing, firing somewhat randomly into the village. They didn’t seem to be hitting anyone or anything… just adding to the chaos.

Having finally made it to the motorcycle, Sawyer thanked whatever power watched over this land and its people—both native and foreign—that the vehicle was still there. He grabbed Rhiannon by the waist and swung her aboard before jumping on in front of her, starting the bike, spinning it around and heading back for the base camp.

They rode through the desert at breakneck speed.

“Thanks for coming to get me!” she shouted. “It would have been a long walk back without you.”

Spotting a small, natural hidey hole in the rocks up ahead, Sawyer gunned the engine and made a dash for it before skidding to a stop, reaching around and pulling her off the motorcycle, and throwing his leg over the engine.

“Jesus, what’s your problem?” she snarled.

“My problem? Did you miss we just barely got out of there? What the hell were you thinking running off to play Florence Nightingale?”

“Florence Nightingale was a nurse; I’m a medic.”

“I don’t fucking care. You could have been killed. Fitzwallace ordered you to stay within the confines of the base,” he said angrily.

“I know that, but that girl needed help. The baby was breach, and she would have died.”

“You would know more about that than me. But you shouldn’t have gone without protection.”

“I think it was a little late for a condom,” she quipped.

“Not funny, Farrell, and you know it. It wouldn’t have taken more than a couple of extra minutes to go through protocol and get someone to come with you.”

“I’m really more of an ‘ask for forgiveness later than get permission first’ sort of girl, especially when I have a sneaky feeling the answer would have been no.”

“You don’t know that for a fact, any more than you know Fitz would have said no. Did you miss the part where you could have gotten yourself killed and me right alongside you?”

“You’re being a bit melodramatic, don’t you think?”

“You don’t want to know what I think,” he growled, trying to get a rein on his temper. “But I will tell you, you’d better thank your lucky stars that it’s Fitzwallace you have to answer to and not me.”

Rhiannon snorted. “So, he yells, or you yell… not much difference that I can see.”

Sawyer stood, snatching her arm and hauling her up next to his body. His mind tried telling him this wasn’t a good idea, but his body didn’t care. His cock was reacting to her presence in a very primal manner. She tried to shove him away, but he held her fast.

“Fuck off, Sawyer. You don’t get to manhandle me.”

“Manhandle? You think I’m manhandling you? Baby, if this is your idea of manhandling, you haven’t been around the right men.”

He never saw her move, never saw her draw back her arm or bring her hand down in a stinging slap to the side of his face. That caused him to release her, which allowed her to ball her fist and land a hard jab to his mouth, rattling his teeth.

“You ill-tempered hellcat. You might not have known what manhandling felt like before, but I got a hot news flash for you, you’re about to find out.”

Sawyer yanked open her fatigues, stripping them down to her knees and jerking her face down across his hard thighs.

“You bastard! What do you think you’re doing?” she screeched, kicking her legs and trying desperately to get away from him.

In that moment as he stared at the sight of her beautifully rounded globes, Sawyer knew that the woman he had pinned over his lap was the only woman he’d ever want there again. Rhiannon Farrell did it for him and while his brain had earlier had tried to remind him of all the reasons this was a bad idea, now all it said was ‘mine!’ She was about to learn just who was in charge and the consequences of slapping or punching a man she knew very little about.

The most primitive part of his brain took over and registered that not only was she in the perfect position to be spanked, but that it would take little effort on his part to put her belly down on the seat of the motorcycle and fuck her silly. It might have taken his mind a little time to get to that conclusion, but his cock had been painfully aware of it from the get-go and throbbed in anticipation.

Before she could question his authority over her, he brought his hand down on her left cheek hard enough for heat and color to bloom, leaving a perfect handprint on her glorious ass. It truly was magnificent—firm and toned with just enough bounce as he landed another blow… a smile spreading across his face as his cock jumped and reminded him it had been a while since he’d been to the club in Dubai that catered to men with his needs and dark desires.

Fitzwallace wouldn’t have to worry about her disobeying his orders after this. Sawyer would see her dangerous impulses were kept in check and that her free time was spent with him. He swatted her other cheek with the same intensity as the first, holding his hand against her skin to feel its warmth. He landed a flurry of harsh strikes against her tender flesh, his nostrils catching the first scent of her arousal. God, she smelled sweet and ripe. He’d see to that just as soon as he ensured his wild filly understood just who held the reins. He began to rhythmically tattoo her entire backside with enough force that she wriggled on his lap, trying to get away.

“Ouch! Stop that,” she hissed as he continued to deliver what he was sure was the first of many spankings she would suffer at his hands.

If she thought, for even a minute, that she would stoically endure his discipline, then she was in for a sad reckoning. When she tried to rise up, he tightened his hold, securing her in place.

“I don’t think so. I think you need to learn who wears the pants in this relationship. I’ll give you a hint… it ain’t the one getting her ass blistered.”

“Noooo!” she wailed. “We don’t have a relationship.”

“We do now,” he said grimly.

Sawyer held her fast, and his open hand continued to punish her quickly coloring backside. Rhiannon fought him in earnest, but he never once missed his target, and she was no match for his size, strength, and determination. Panting and biting her lip to keep from crying out again, she finally capitulated to his control and Rhiannon slumped over his lap.

The last vestiges of his rational brain warned him to let her go, apologize, and pray she didn’t bring him up on charges. And if he hadn’t had to breathe in and once more smell the intoxicating fragrance of her desire, he might have listened. Only that wasn’t what happened. Instead, he softly caressed her heated globes, trailing his finger down the cleft of her buttocks, rimming the dark rosebud of her back passage.

That got a reaction out of her. She went from surrendered back to defiant in the space of a heartbeat, which pleased him inordinately. Bringing his hand back up, he punished her resistance with another swift series of stinging swats, and he didn’t stop until she was yowling before that too went by the wayside and she submitted to his discipline.

Not just to his authority and punishment, but to him. He would need to teach her there was safety and peace to be found in submission to him—that he would cherish and care for her in ways he doubted she had ever imagined.

Sawyer slipped his hand between her thighs, pinching the sensitive skin when she didn’t immediately soften to his touch and open her legs. She gasped, but didn’t yield until the light pinching intensified to stinging slaps to the soft, wet lips of her pussy, steadily increasing in force until she surrendered. She opened herself to him, revealing the absolute evidence of her arousal… her sweet perfume and a copious amount of slick for his use.

He cupped her wet outer lips, the throbbing of his cock intensifying as he squeezed. What had started out as an exercise of his dominance and discipline had become a raging demand to ease both of their mutual needs. They were in the middle of nowhere in a country where most of the population saw them as interlopers. She was a member of his unit, but in that moment none of that mattered. Sawyer shoved two fingers up into her cunt, plunging them in and out of her wet heat as she writhed over his muscular thighs, rubbing his cock in the most delicious way as her body went flush with desire.

Sawyer lifted her from his lap and positioned her face down over the seat of the motorcycle. When she tried to rise, he swatted her red backside then placed his hand on the nape of her neck, pressing her back down. He grasped her wrists in one hand, pinning her hands behind her back to hold her in place while he unfastened his fly. He hesitated a moment. Had she made another protest, made any attempt at resisting him, he might have stopped. Instead, all she did was wiggle her hips and part her legs, making a better place for him between them.

He freed his cock then reached up to grasp her hips and mounted her from behind. With a heavy groan, he sank deep, reveling in the exquisite feel of her silken sheath as it clamped down around him, trembling all along his length. Her wet heat was heavenly. The soft velvety texture of her pussy as it quivered was beyond anything he’d ever experienced. He knew he was more well-endowed than most and was also keenly aware that she hadn’t been intimate with anyone since she’d joined the unit. He gave her a moment to allow her body to accommodate his, her pussy hugging him from the tip of his cock to its base. That heartbeat in time was the most sensual agony he’d ever endured.

Sawyer began to surge in and out, driving to the end of her sheath and dragging his cock back to its opening before surging forward again. Rhiannon arched her back, her body fighting for its pleasure and tumbling over the abyss into ecstasy as her orgasm washed over her, leaving her shaking with its intensity. Giving her no respite, Sawyer increased the power of his thrusting to drive her to the edge a second time, forcing her over before flooding her pussy with his cum.

He pressed her down, holding her in place and forcing her to stay still while his cock finished spending itself inside her. Her sheath was still contracting around him, spasming rhythmically, greedily milking his cock for every last drop and savoring every bit of bliss that she could take from him before he withdrew. Sawyer stepped back, watching his cum dribble out as her pussy gaped from his hard use before he drew her up, spun her around, and captured her face in his hand with his thumb on one side and the rest of his fingers splayed out over the other, spanning the area from her jaw down her neck. Trapping her, he lowered his mouth to hers and took possession of it. The kiss was neither tentative nor brutal; instead, it was a sensual exploration of her mouth that told her of his own need and strength.

“What the fuck?” she said, trying to escape him but failing as he’d caught her between his body and the motorcycle.

“Don’t expect me to apologize.”

“Me either,” she said, pulling her arm back and slapping him a second time.

Sawyer shook his head. He hadn’t expected that, but then he hadn’t expected to fuck her in the middle of the desert and for that to have felt more right than anything before in his life.

Rhiannon couldn’t believe she’d just punched and slapped him. Then again, she was having a hard time accepting that he’d just spanked and fucked her, not that she hadn’t fantasized about the latter. She tried telling herself that she hadn’t liked the former and while she didn’t necessarily like it per se, it had certainly jump-started her libido.

She wasn’t a violent person by nature, she reminded herself. He’d caught her off guard; she hadn’t expected to be fucked by Sawyer over the seat of a motorcycle. Not that she hadn’t thought about it, but in her fantasies, it had always been in a luxury hotel. She wondered if the slap wasn’t more about where it had happened as opposed to it having happened. She knew she should be furious, knew she should feel violated, but she didn’t. Here in the middle of a hot, barren desert, face down over a motorcycle, her ass on fire from having been spanked for the first time, she’d had the most incredible sexual experience of her life.

She expected him to hit her back, maybe slap her, at least yell at her, but he did none of those. Instead, his eyes crinkled and he chuckled before kissing the tip of her nose.

“I’ll give you that one, sweetheart. But the next time you hit me,” he said, running his hand over her ass and grinning when she grimaced, “I’ll think I didn’t spank or fuck you hard enough and remedy the situation.”

“There won’t be a next time,” she vowed.

“That I spank or fuck you? Don’t you believe it,” he teased her, seemingly inordinately pleased with himself. “And you’ve been warned what’ll happen the next time you deck me. Get on the bike, Rhiannon; we need to get back to base.”

They returned to base and Rhiannon steeled herself to be dressed down in no uncertain terms by the commanding officer of the unit to which she was assigned. Captain Robert Fitzwallace was an indomitable Scot—when he roared, lesser men trembled. His men all seemed to respect him, but did not fear him like everybody else, including her.

When they got off the motorcycle, Sawyer led her back to her tent.

“You stay put. I’ll deal with Fitz.”

“What do you mean you’ll deal with Fitz?” she asked suspiciously.

“I mean, I’ll deal with it.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I’m sure you can. By the way, what you did in the village was the most amazing, beautiful thing I think I’ve ever seen. You were remarkable.”

Sawyer turned to leave her, and she started to follow him out. He stopped, turned her around, and swatted her backside, propelling her back into her tent before following her.

“I told you to stay put,” he growled.

“Don’t you growl at me. You’re not in charge of me…” she started and stopped as Fitzwallace’s mass filled the opening.

“So that’s how it is,” he said, far more indulgent of what had to be obvious than she thought he should have been.

“It is now,” answered Sawyer.

Fitzwallace looked between them. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Make sure she understands,” he said before leaving him.

“What the hell was that about?” she snarled.

“Watch your mouth, Rhiannon, and settle down.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” she said, growing more agitated.

Sawyer hauled her up into his body and brought his mouth down on hers in a voracious kiss. He kissed her with the intensity of man who’d been starving and suddenly had a feast laid before him. She’d never minded kissing, but it had never been the be all and end all for her. She wondered now if that was because she’d never been kissed by a man who knew how… and Sawyer had kissing down to a fine art. It might have started with her lips, but it quickly spread through her system, lighting up every synapse in her body.

“Let’s just say Fitz and I—hell, the rest of the unit as well—share the same sense of the way things should be in a relationship,” he said, his drawl thickening.

“We don’t have a relationship.”

He swatted her backside with a speed and force that took her breath away, reigniting and intensifying the sting that was already there.

“Don’t you believe that for even a nanosecond. You’re mine, Rhiannon Farrell, and you can either accept that now or after I take my belt to your backside.” He ran his hands down the sides of her body, before gently cupping her ass and pulling her close so that the juncture of her thighs was pressed against his hard cock. “God, you’re gorgeous, but understand me when I tell you that I’ll force your submission to me before I earn it, but in the end, you’ll give it me.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Crazy?” he asked, testing the word as if he didn’t know its meaning. “No. Obsessed? Possessive? Dominant? Yep, in the extreme, and you’d best settle yourself with that.”

Kissing the tip of her nose, he turned and left her in her tent.

Rhiannon couldn’t decide whether she was relieved or angry when he seemed to forget that anything had happened between them for the next few days. Nevertheless, when her R&R came up, she quietly slipped out of her tent and caught a ride to Dubai to join some friends that she’d been through boot camp with.

“Did you notice that your girl just left for R&R without you?” asked Fitzwallace as the transport plane lifted off.

“Well, that might be a problem if I didn’t know where she was going, who she was meeting, and what they were planning to do,” answered Sawyer.

“Do tell.”

“She’s meeting up in Dubai with some girlfriends she met when she joined the service. They’ve decided to visit the Watch Tower.”

“What the bloody hell for? That’s no place for female tourists. And why do you look so happy about it?”

“Simple. You’re going to let me take some of my massively accumulated leave and go meet my sweetheart there. I figured it would be easier to get things settled between us when I could have her in a private room with lots of soundproofing.”

“In order to play, she’ll need to go through their training class.”

“Yep,” Sawyer said, his eyes twinkling. “She doesn’t know it, but she’s already signed up for the accelerated one and guess who her training dom is going to be?”

Fitz shook his head. “Sometimes I forget you’re almost as much of a Machiavellian bastard as I am.”

“Why, Fitz… I do believe that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Fitz snorted. “Well, come on then, I’ll buy you a whiskey while you wait for your plane.”

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