Cowboy Casanova: Rough Riders, Book 12 Read online

  A tiny flare of anger replaced the pleasure in his eyes. “No.”

  “No what?”

  “No, Ma’am.”

  “Good answer.” Ainsley angled her head to feel his downy chest hair brush her cheek. She nuzzled his pectoral, breathing in his warm, earthy scent. He groaned when her questing mouth found his nipple. She licked the disk, dampening the hair around the hidden tip, using her teeth to tease the tiny nub as she increased the stroking motion of her hand.

  “God. Dammit.”

  She upped the tempo, switching to shorter, harder strokes.

  “Ah fuck.”

  “Stop swearing at me.”

  “Sorry it just feels so… Shit, it feels so fuckin’ good.”

  She smiled against his chest. “Tell me how close you are.”

  “Embarrassingly close.”

  “Why are you embarrassed?”

  “Because my stamina is usually… Christ, do that again.”

  “This?” Her middle finger slipped between his damp balls on the down-stroke. “Or this?” Her thumb traced the wet edge of his cockhead above the sweet spot on the upstroke.

  “Both. God! Dammit.”

  She sucked hard on his nipple as she jacked him. “Tell me what you want, Bennett.”

  “Don’t stop. Faster. Yes. Just…like that.” He humped her hand and swore a blue streak as he came in hot, short bursts.

  Ainsley watched his cock as he erupted, feeling a heady sense of triumph. Triumph and power. And heat. Getting him off had turned her on again.

  Then Bennett’s hand curled around her jaw, forcing her head back. His eyes were still pleasure-clouded when he murmured, “Thanks.”

  She playfully squeezed his softening cock one more time just to see that warning look flicker in his eyes. “Stay put. I’ll be right back.”

  After washing her hands, she wet a washcloth with warm water, intending to clean him up. But she handed it to him instead. It seemed too intimate, touching him in the aftermath.

  But she did watch. She’d never known seeing a man handle himself could be so sexy.

  He tossed the rag aside. “Did it turn you on, getting me off?”

  Was it that obvious?

  “Let me take care of you. Let me get you off again. This time with my mouth.”

  Her pussy throbbed a happy yes. It’d been a long time since she’d seen any tongue action. A really long time. But she also knew Mr. Charming and Persuasive Bennett would push for more if she gave in without restrictions. “You are such a silver-tongued devil.”

  “Is that a yes? You want me to prove how well this devil can use his tongue?”

  “Of course it’s a yes…just as soon as you put your clothes back on.”

  That stopped him short. “What? Why?” His mouth remained pursed, intending to argue.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Not at all…what?”

  “Not at all, Ma’am.”

  Yeah, she was totally loving this power thing.

  She sat in the armchair, watching him get dressed. Such a pity to cover up that magnificent body.

  His smooth movements belied the annoyance in his eyes. His boots barely made a sound as he crossed the room. Her heart thumped when he dropped to his knees.

  They stared at one another for a very long minute.

  “Take off your panties.”

  In one fast, and hopefully sexy move, Ainsley whisked off the g-string.

  Then Bennett circled his fingers around her ankles just above her shoes. His hands glided up her shins, over her knees and up the inside of her thighs. He tapped the outside of her hips. “Scoot down so I can reach all of you.”

  That’s when she panicked, the reality of her wet sex up close and personal in Bennett’s face, as well as her fat white thighs, rounded belly and big butt. Shoot. Maybe she should insist he shut the lights off.

  “You want a play-by-play?”

  Bennett’s voice startled her. “A what?”

  “Do you want me to talk about how badly I want to bury my face in your pussy? Of how perfect and sweet it tastes? How fuckin’ hot it is that you’re so wet?”

  Instead of purring, Oh yeah, you can keep up that sweet dirty talk all night, she let her confusion show. “Why would I want that?”

  “Just a guess, because you haven’t given me any instructions about what you do want.”

  Another rookie mistake. She gave him a haughty, “What I want is to come. Think you can handle that?”

  He made a primitive noise and lowered his head to kiss the rise of her pubic bone. The cheeky man looked up at her when his tongue danced across her clit.

  At the second swipe of his clever tongue she abandoned the idea she had any control in this situation at all.

  He slid his tongue down the seam of her sex. Circling the opening and plunging inside. Licking. Sucking. A wiggling maneuver that made her gasp.

  Her body twitched against the barrage of sensations. His rough-tipped fingers spreading her open. His short hair teasing the swell of her belly. His wickedly wonderful tongue was a constant reminder of how much she loved oral sex.

  Not that she’d ever experienced oral sex like this.

  The man teased and tormented. He built her to the detonation point, and backed down, just because he could.

  And then he sent her soaring.

  Her clit pulsed against his sucking mouth. She let her head fall back and shamelessly reveled in every glorious throb. Once the storm inside her calmed, she tried to scoot back up to conceal her lower half, but Bennett wouldn’t allow it.

  “Don’t close yourself off from me. Every part of you deserves to be worshipped.” He kissed her knees. “I want to worship your body with mine tonight. All night.”

  That comment sounded far too practiced. She placed her hands on his face to stop his marauding mouth. “Hold on there, slick. I don’t know if that’s in the cards.”

  Bennett truly appeared confused. “Why not?”

  “Because I’m in charge, remember?”

  “Right. Sorry, Ma’am.”

  The man didn’t look the teeniest bit repentant.

  Ainsley stood and discreetly put on her g-string. “While I’m considering our options, I could use a stiff drink.”

  “Let’s head back to the main room so we can talk.”

  She trembled when his warm, insistent lips followed the slope of her shoulder as he helped her put on her robe.

  His huskily whispered, “I like the way you tremble in my arms,” only caused her to tremble harder.

  They’d exited the room and reached the end of the hallway, when the owner shouted, “Bennett! There’s a malfunction with the pulley system in room nine. I need your help.”

  Bennett sighed. “I’ll meet you as soon as I’m done, okay?”

  Ainsley strolled into the crowded main room, feeling out of place. Her little bit of confidence evaporated. Too many people surrounded her. Too much had happened in such a short amount of time. She needed to clear her head and she couldn’t do it here.

  Without saying goodbye to anyone, she slipped into the night.

  Chapter Five

  Ben couldn’t believe Angel had snuck out of the club last night.

  Yes, you can. And you don’t expect to see her tonight either.

  That would suck.

  After he didn’t find her cooling her heels in the bar area, he scoured the entire club for her. Layla had sworn she hadn’t seen Angel leave. When he pressed for more information, Murphy stepped in, reminding him of the club rules. He’d managed not to snap, fuck the club rules, which would’ve gotten him thrown out on his ass and banned for the weekend.

  He’d nursed a beer, watching dispassionately as two of his sometime playmates ended up with Trace and Riley. Then he’d headed to Cody’s place and crashed.

  Ben figured it made him a fool, waving off a constant stream of subs tonight, as he waited for Angel to show up. The woman flat out fascinated hi
m. Her boldness in lying about her Domme designation. Her wide-eyed reaction to the scenes she’d witnessed. Followed by her moments of true Domme-like behavior. The way she jacked him off and made him clean himself up. Her insistence he put his clothes back on when he so obviously wanted to fuck her.

  But what really tripped him over the edge for her? Her genuine surprise at her body’s response to him. Allowing her to believe she’d been in control last night told him exactly what he’d suspected: she was submissive to the core.

  She’d be a challenge. Ben couldn’t remember the last time he’d been challenged by a woman, inside or outside the club. His last three regular playmates hadn’t posed any challenge.

  Zoe had been a trial.

  Ali had been too eager to please, a lifestyle sub in training.

  Lorena had needed submission as therapy; they’d mostly talked.

  He considered his one-nighters a fun way to pass the evening. A little bondage, a little practice with his toys, a chance to hone his skills with a whip, flogger, cane and crop.

  Talk about clinical. And cynical. Now he remembered why he’d stayed away from the Rawhide in the last month. He needed to shake off his attitude. But if Angel didn’t show up tonight, he wouldn’t stick around.

  Ben looked around the room at the tables of couples, some already in play roles, some still negotiating. Sully, sans his usual lawyerly suit, was propped against the wall in overseer mode. Neither Cody nor Trace was around. Gil was behind the bar.

  His gaze scanned the crowd. He froze when he spotted Angel, watching him from a corner table. How long had she been there?

  She studied him for several long minutes. Then she stood, gracefully slipping from her chair. She started across the room. Stopped halfway. The distance between them seemed to increase with his every heartbeat.

  It was damn difficult not to swoop her up and carry her off, but he waited for her to come to him.

  He didn’t bother to hide his grin when she threw back her shoulders, lifted her chin and strode forward.

  Good girl. See? That wasn’t so hard.

  Angel slid into the seat across from his. “Hello, Bennett.”

  “You came.” Smooth, McKay.

  “I said I would. I’ve been here awhile. Watching you.”

  “See anything interesting?”

  She cocked her head. “Besides the dozen women who approached you? I was waiting for one of them to drop down and lick your boots.”

  “Wouldn’t have mattered if one of them had.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not interested in anyone but you.”

  Tension thickened the air.

  How was it possible she was more alluring than he’d remembered? She’d donned the wig again, but her make-up wasn’t as severe. Her facial structure was a study in contrasts, wide angular lines that emphasized her dainty feminine features. Apple cheeks, big hazel eyes framed by long, dark lashes, an upturned nose. She looked soft and angelic, except for her mouth. Goddamn those pillowy lips were made for nights of red-hot sin.

  “You skipped out last night.” Ben placed his hand over hers to stop her nervous finger tapping. “But you’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

  “I don’t have the foggiest idea what that means.”

  It means you’re mine tonight.

  She squirmed as if he’d said those words aloud.

  He kissed her palm. “It means you and I are about to swap bracelets.”

  Those bewitching hazel eyes widened.

  “Don’t look so surprised. That’s why you came back, isn’t it? You’re curious about how it’ll be with me.”

  “And scared,” she added softly.

  He stilled. “You’re scared of me?”

  “A little. I’m more scared of my reaction to you. You’re just so…different from any man I’ve ever been with. I mean, look at you.” She touched him then, without conscious thought.

  He studied her eyes as the tips of her fingers explored his face. Gently sweeping over his cheekbones. Tracing his jaw from the bottom of his earlobe to the dent in his chin. Innocent caresses that instantly gave him a hard-on.

  “Such a stern look on such a handsome face,” she murmured as her thumb outlined his lower lip. “I prefer your heart-stopping smiles to your scowls. But I imagine I won’t see many smiles from you tonight, will I?”

  Lightning fast, Ben trapped her face between his hands. “You’ll see plenty of smiles from me tonight.” He pressed his mouth to hers, letting the kiss linger, but not taking it deeper.

  A delicate shiver rippled through her. When she attempted to retreat, he let her.

  “It’s time.” He removed the white bracelet and slid it across the table.

  She removed the gold bracelet and exchanged it for the white one.

  “Now. Let’s talk about hard limits,” he said.

  “No other players.”

  “Understood.”

  “No public scenes between us.”

  That put a kink in his kinky plans. “You’re sure?”

  “I’m positive.”

  “How do you know you won’t like it until you’ve tried it?” he countered.

  She shook her head. “That’s a hard limit. No exceptions.”

  “Fine. What else?”

  “No anal.”

  “Have you ever experimented with it?”

  Two bright pink spots appeared on her cheekbones. “No. And I don’t want to start tonight.”

  “Okay. What about bondage?”

  “Yes, because I assume you know what you’re doing with ropes and such?”

  “I’ve had a few years of practice. Anything else?”

  “No. But if something you’re doing makes me uncomfortable…”

  “Use your safe word and I’ll stop immediately. But keep in mind it’s not for casual use.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “The public club safe word is red. You should have a personal one too. So what is yours?”

  Her nose wrinkled. “Broncos.”

  “Why?”

  “I hate that team.”

  Ben grinned. “Guess you and I won’t be watchin’ football together any time soon, since that’s my favorite team.”

  She didn’t crack a smile. She fidgeted as if debating something.

  “Ask me the question.”

  Her startled eyes zoomed to his. “How did you know what I was thinking? Oh right. This isn’t your first rodeo, is it, cowboy?”

  “Nope.”

  “What if I don’t meet your expectations?”

  Like that’d ever happen. “My list of expectations is short. One, complete honesty between us at all times. Two, keep an open mind because I’ll push you more than you’ll expect. Three, you don’t just up and leave when we’re done. We will talk about everything that goes on between us tonight and how you feel about it. Especially important this first time.” He threaded his fingers through hers. “Much of what happens between a dominant and a submissive is psychological, not just physical. I need to know you ain’t gonna bail on me the second I undo your restraints.”

  “I won’t run out. I promise.”

  “Good. Now, would you like a drink?”

  “Yes, please. Bombay Sapphire and tonic.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  “Don’t they have waitstaff?”

  “No. Keeps interruptions to a minimum. If members want a drink they can get it themselves.”

  Gil already had a bottle of Ben’s brand of beer out when he approached the bar. “What does the lady want?”

  Ben told him and waited, taking a sip from his beer. When Gil returned, Ben asked, “What time are Murphy and Layla doin’ their thing?”

  “Any minute now. Same place they always use.”

  “Thanks.” Ben wondered if he should tell her about the scene. Could Angel handle seeing her friend publicly whipped and fucked? He took the chair beside her.

  She said, “What’s wrong?”

&
nbsp; “That.” He pointed at her drink. “You know that stuff looks like watered down glass cleaner, right?”

  “Doesn’t taste like it.” She sipped. “If the honesty thing applies to you, tell me what’s put that wrinkle in your brow?”

  Astute little sub. “Murphy and Layla are doin’ a public scene.”

  “That’s not normal for them?”

  “No. Some couples give up exhibitionism once they’re in a committed relationship.”

  “So why are they doing this?”

  “Layla got herself into a bit of trouble last night.”

  Her eyes widened. “Is it because of me?”

  “In a way. Layla never should’ve lied to Murphy to get you into the club. It was her choice, so she has to deal with the consequences. Their scene will be about punishment.”

  She paled. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. So we can stay here until it’s over. Or we can go find a room right now.”

  “You suggesting I hide? Even though it’s partially my fault she’s being subjected to punishment?”

  “It’s not your fault. Layla isn’t a novice to the lifestyle, Angel. You are.”

  “Will it be bad?”

  “I swear to you Murphy won’t hurt her beyond what she can handle. But the whole point is to remind her of her submissive, not subversive, role in his life.”

  Determination flitted through her eyes. She drained her drink. “I want to watch.”

  Brave girl. “Just as long as you understand you cannot interfere. Period.”

  “I won’t.”

  Ben left his unfinished beer on the table. Clasping her hand, he led her through the crowd, taking a left at the hallway.

  Two dozen people were in front of the medieval room. He nudged her to a space in the middle of the crowd, wrapping his arms around her upper body, unsure if he meant to hold her up or hold her back.

  She gasped softly, seeing Layla in chains, arms above her head, a spreader bar keeping her legs apart. Her naked back faced the audience. Murphy wielded a single tail whip.

  Layla stuttered, “F-fourteen, Sir.”

  Welts decorated Layla’s back. Murphy didn’t move as he cracked the whip again; the tip scored the tender skin on her left side.