Acres, Natalie - Sex Addict [Cowboy Addiction 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (5 page)

After their kiss broke, she replied, “Much better now.”

He winked, thrust, and then fucked with another new pace guaranteed to please. Heavy grunts resounded as he gave his best effort.

“More,” she demanded. “Harder. Deeper. Oh God, Kemper. Don’t slow down. Don’t you dare stop!”

Built like a god, Kemper fucked like a machine. His strength and stamina set him apart from former lovers. No one matched him.

“I want to screw you in front of an audience,” she crooned, tilting her head to the side as she ground against him.

“You do?” he asked, arching forward in an apparent effort to lap at her nipple, frame her full breast with both hands.

“We’d have fun,” she rasped.

He suckled her nipple. Drawing the point between his teeth, he rubbed the flat part of his tongue over her swollen bud. “We make the most of our time regardless of what we do or where we do it.”

She nipped at his ear. In a sultry voice, she asked, “But wouldn’t you enjoy me more if the whole world could see how you love me? Wouldn’t you like to rent a private suite at a professional football game, press my naked body to the glass and let the whole world watch you fuck me from behind?”

“I’d like it more if you’d shut up and kiss me,” he told her, clasping his hand around her nape and pulling her mouth over his. He nudged his tongue between her lips and kissed her silly.

As their mouths met and parted, his cock played. The engorged head pushed against her walls. He surged forward with sharp taps.

Her cunt became sensitive to the repetitive taunting. He throttled her with his loving and soon found that special spot. She released a satisfying holler, but managed to keep her orgasm at bay.

Someone was missing. She longed for another lover to join them. What she’d give to see Kit standing in the doorway gaping at them, that burning lust seeping into his eyes. Well, there was no question about what lengths she’d go to in order to lure a tiger out of its den.

“Come on Kemper,” she hummed, dragging her nails up and down his arms. “Let’s you and I make some noise.”

* * * *

He saw the desire stirring in her eyes. She yearned for his complete attention. He wasn’t a man who let a woman want for much.

Kemper yanked her forward and kissed her hard on the mouth. The longer they kissed, the more erect he became.

Kemper loved fucking Holly. She was a treat, a true delight every single time he took her to bed. She could screw a man into a little honesty or make him lie like hell. She had the power to strip his control or make him feel like he was on top of the world.

In recent days, Kemper had even come to accept the fact that he was in love with her. He’d loved her from the moment she’d slipped on his lap and told him she’d ride a big hard cock like his for free. So maybe she stroked his ego a bit.

The way she’d always supported him went way beyond the bedroom and puffing up his penis. Because of Holly, he felt like a better man. Because of her, he wanted to be the best man she’d ever known.

One thing about it, Holly knew how to hook a man and keep him on a short line for the rest of his life. Kemper might as well face facts. He was impressed with Holly from the outside, in.

He sank between her soft, moist folds and couldn’t help himself. The greed took hold, and his need for release was at the forefront of his mind.

“Now?” she asked, acting as if she could come on command.

“Now,” he rasped, watching her to see if she faked out the orgasm or grabbed on to one right in the nick of time.

Holly tossed her head back, and with one hand between her legs, she rubbed her clitoris and oohed and aahed, just carried on like she’d climaxed back-to-back.

When she finished the show, she fell against him and said, “The sex between us keeps getting better and better all the time, doesn’t it?”

He caressed her back, dragging his fingertips over her shoulders. His cock twitched inside her.

After a minute, he regained some sense. With his dick relaxing between her intimate lips, he took a second and gave her a dose of reassurance. “I can’t think of another woman I’ve ever wanted more.”

“You’ll never have another who pleases you like I do.”

She was right. Sometimes that thought bothered him. What if Kit kept coming with his absurd requests to make her leave? What if his brother forced him to choose between his family and his woman all because of damned-ass stubbornness and foolish pride?

“You don’t agree?” she pressed.

He pecked the top her head, smoothing fallen bangs away from her brow. “What’s with the seriousness in your voice?”

A long silence passed. After a while, he peeled her arms away from him. “Holly?”

“What if I wanted some man to make an honest woman out of me?”

He planned to wring Kit’s neck for this. He’d given Holly too much to think about. Now, she was ready for holy matrimony.

Before Kemper could stop himself, he tipped the end of her nose with his forefinger. “What are you suggesting, baby?”

“I was thinking along the lines of marriage. With Kit out of the picture, why not?”

He rubbed his jaw, and after thoughtful consideration, he replied, “Holly, I think there may be a few things you need to know about me—and Kit—before you push for a more permanent relationship.”

She batted her eyelashes, propped her hands on his chest, and yawned, acting as if she didn’t have any interest in hearing one thing he had to say. “Well?”

“You know how we mentioned Domination and submission when you first moved in here?”

“Yeah, so?”

“So that’s what I’m looking for in a committed relationship. What I want for the rest of my life isn’t negotiable. When I finally settle down and it’s for real, the woman who goes to bed with me and stays there will need to accept the whole package.

“She will need to give me what I want, what I most desire. She’ll first search her heart and make sure she can live within the lifestyle, too. Otherwise, I’m not interested in a long-term commitment.”

“We’ve been together a year. Don’t you think you, or Kit, should’ve mentioned this before now?”

He shrugged. “You shot us down the first time we said anything at all about the lifestyle.”

“So you were what? Waiting for me to come around or looking for a better replacement, someone who would agree to whips and chains?” She took a deep breath. “I should be pissed over this. You know that, right?”

“You can’t be mad about something you were already aware of, and you knew what we liked, what we’d later expect.”

“Why do you think you need this?”

“It’s complicated.”

“No, it really isn’t,” she said flippantly. After they stared at one another for God only knew how long, she said, “All right. Here’s the deal. I’ll whip and spank you on Mondays. You can fuck me from behind on Tuesdays. I’ll wear a strap-on the rest of the time but on Sundays? Straight sex. No exceptions.”

“Do what?” he asked, arching a brow.

She grinned, her eyelashes batting a mile a minute.

“Don’t do that please,” Kemper said, his stomach churning. He saw where this was going, and he damn sure didn’t like it. “You always do that when you think you’re putting me in my place.”

“Kemper,” she said, sighing, “I told you when I moved here. I’m no man’s bitch. But, honey, if you want to be my little whore, I’ll spank that ass and slap your cock plumb silly.”

* * * *

“What’s wrong with you?” Kit asked, entering the dining room later that evening.

“Nothing,” Kemper replied, glaring at the clock on the wall.

“You look like you lost your inflatable doll or something.”

“I may have,” Kemper admitted.

“Trouble in paradise already?” Kit asked. “And here I thought the two of you would be headed for the altar by now.”

“She wants to spank me.”

“Hmm,” Kit said, pouring a glass of water. He took a sip, but the drink quickly turned into a gulp as he drained the glass and returned to the pitcher. “You’re not thinking about that, are you?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Well, are you?”

“Hell no.”

“Good, because you know…Holly ain’t right upstairs,” Kit informed him, pointing to his forehead.

“You thought she had plenty of brains until you heard she may have used her body, not to mention her talents, to earn a living.”

“I can’t have her mothering my children until she shares her past and opens up to me like a true sub should,” Kit said, returning the pitcher to the buffet.

About that time, Kemper heard Holly clear her throat from the doorway. He closed his eyes and held his breath. Oh God, the forthcoming confrontation wouldn’t be pretty.

Holly marched over to Kit, reached for the crystal pitcher, and dumped the entire contents over his head. Then she said, “For the record, I’m not your submissive.” She held her head high and pointed to her neck. “If you’ll notice, there isn’t a collar here.”

“There should be,” Kit grumbled, using his sleeve to wipe his eyes.

Holly waved her finger in front of him. “In case you’re wondering. I’m not a slut. As you know, the word implies a woman fucks for free and gives head for pleasure.”

“I never said—”

“Excuse me,” she interrupted him. “I have the floor.” She shot him a fake smile. “A whore, on the other hand, screws and sucks for a negotiated fee. Mine, as you might imagine, was very high. Only those men with a hefty bankroll took a flip across my bed if you know what I mean.”

“I’m sure,” Kit said, snatching a cloth napkin from a placemat.

Kemper was actually impressed. Somehow his brother managed to keep his hands from attaching to Holly’s neck. Then again, it took him a minute to blink away the ice chips dangling from his eyelashes. Poor guy may have gone into shock.

“As for mothering your children, I wouldn’t give you a son or a daughter if you paid me.” She ran her hands over her phenomenal curves, careful to drag her fingers across every inch. “I can’t mess up what I’ve spent years perfecting.”

“Really?”

“It’s a fact.”

Kemper didn’t miss the way Holly trembled as she argued her reasons for avoiding pregnancy. She wasn’t telling them the whole truth. She was furious and perhaps wanted to kick Kit where he’d feel it most—right below the belt and smack dab in the center of his heart.

“Well, Miss Perfect. We’ll see about that,” Kit said, grabbing her by the arm. “Kemper, come on. We’ve been pussy whipped since Holly arrived here. It’s time to show her the basement.

“Maybe after a tour downstairs, she’ll understand why we’re not exactly the kind of cowboys a woman can abuse for her own pleasure. Miss Holly needs to know why we don’t take kindly to having a crop snapped across our balls.”

Chapter Five

Holly twirled a curl around her forefinger. Squinting, she tried to see her way through the dim lighting and discovered, as expected, the tucked-away dungeon was one hell of a place. No wonder the women in town used to talk about Kit and Kemper.

After she’d moved there, she’d quickly been introduced to the gals around town. Once the word was out and she wore the title of the Keesling girlfriend, the stories ran rampant.

Apparently, good times were once enjoyed by all. In the beginning, the women came out of the woodwork. They sometimes discussed a friend of a friend who knew something about the Keesling men. Most of them, however, couldn’t keep the personal memories from stamping their permanent place in their hooded eyes.

The Keesling men left a trail of broken hearts.

And to think Kit Keesling judged her? Humph, he was a ladies’ man back in the day. One look around their playground and she was certain of what activities he’d most enjoyed. Damn shame he hadn’t thought to show her their basement long before now. What had he been waiting on?

“Well? What do you think?” Kemper asked.

She rolled her tongue over her bottom lip and took a stroll around the large open area, tapping her fingernails against some of the items she perused. The body swing earned more than a stroke. She stopped in front of the exotic furniture piece and studied the poles, the leather partner slips, and other features. Belts, straps, chains, and cuffs intrigued her, played havoc on her dirty mind.

Hmm, she mused. By the looks of things, she’d missed out on some exquisite entertainment. Studying the far wall, she noted several harnesses hanging in the corner. They were located next to what she assumed was the dressing room, given the fact a royal-blue curtain hardly fit the décor there.

After viewing a few adult clothing styles, her gaze narrowed on a large, circular piece. It looked like a wheel of some sort. “Let me guess,” she purred. “You used to volunteer at the county fair. The two of you operated the generous money wheel, right?”

Kit growled. That deep, guttural tone fell from his lips and made her pussy clench in anticipation. Her nipples spiked, and her full breasts tingled. He may have been mad at her, but he would still fuck her. Her gaze met his, and sure enough, the man was a sex roll-up, tightly drawn in an outer shell, but still good and sweet once someone unraveled him.