Cowboy Casanova (18 page)

“I ran away from home when I was eight. I remember feeling ignored, invisible, that no one would care if I just left. I had these visions of my mom and dad frantically searching for me. They were screaming my name, regretting their treatment of me, while my brothers cried. So I took off early one mornin’, making sure I didn’t go to any of my favorite spots. I waited for them to come find me. But no one ever did. I spent the night by myself. Alone. Every fear realized. Around dawn, a solid day after I’d left, I snuck into my bed. Nothing had changed for them, but it seemed everything had changed for me. I’ve always felt that day cemented my place in the family. The middle child but in last place.”

A beat passed and warm lips connected with his. Ainsley kissed him with the perfect mix of fire and sweetness. When she angled her head to take the kiss deeper, Ben realized her cheeks were wet.

His brain did a victory dance. Although he never wanted any woman to see him as the forgotten boy in Dom’s clothes, he was humbled and touched by her honest tears. And he knew the next time he asked her to share something emotionally personal, she’d be less hesitant. “Let’s get you untied,” he said gruffly.

Ben checked her circulation, falling back into Dom mode. He remained stretched out on the bed as she put her clothes back on, not caring if his staring made her uncomfortable. She’d said as much. His response? “Tough.”

He’d kept her flustered, rebuilding that passion between them as he herded her back to the living room. Kissing her. Biting on her neck. Stroking her nipples through her clothing. Then he helped her on with her coat. “Remember. You don’t get to come. And if you do get yourself off? I’ll know.”

“How?”

“Because you are a bad liar. Don’t push me on this, Ainsley.” He bestowed one last, hot kiss. “See you tomorrow night.”

Chapter Thirteen

Since Ben intended to keep her off balance, Ainsley decided she’d do the same to him. Accepting her submissive side didn’t mean she had to be malleable or predictable. She could be a temptress. She could feed the soul of the dominant man. And she could damn well cook him dinner too. They both had to eat.

She arrived at his house, bearing a Crock-Pot filled with a pork roast and potatoes. His rowdy dogs nearly jostled it out of her hands as she waited for him to answer her knock.

Oh my Lord. She watched Ben approach through the glass-paned front door, wearing a towel and a scowl. A tiny shiver worked free. She never wanted that displeased look aimed at her. Luckily his glower was focused on his unruly dogs.

Maybe he wouldn’t notice the drool dripping from her chin at seeing him nearly nude.

When he opened the door a crack, the dogs clambered to get inside. He snapped, “Sit.” The dogs sat. “Stay.” They whimpered. And stayed. Wagged their tails to get their master’s attention. He opened the door for Ainsley. Once she was inside, he said, “Take off,” to the dogs and they slunk away. He finally looked at her, then at the Crock-Pot she held. “What’s this?”

“Dinner. You made me dinner the other night, I’m returning the favor.”

“Smells good. You can plug it in by the coffeepot.”

Ainsley felt his eyes on her as she fussed with the temperature and the lid. When she turned around, Bennett wore the Dom face.

“Supper will keep for a while?”

She nodded.

“Good. Clothes off.”

“Right here?”

That one brow lifted as if to say,
You challenging me, sub?
and she stripped without another word.

He directed her through his bedroom to his bathroom. The rectangular shower had a clear glass door. The back walls and floor were comprised of dark gray tiles. Half a dozen nozzles were placed at different intervals on the side wall, and an enormous showerhead was centered in the middle of the ceiling. In the back corner was a built-in seat and another smaller handheld showerhead on the opposite wall. She’d take a gorgeous space like this over a sunken tub any day.

“You’re just in time to help me get cleaned up.”

Ainsley had a moment of panic. She wasn’t one of those women who looked sleek and sexy under the spray of water. Her hair frizzed the instant a drop of humidity touched it. Plus, she wasn’t wearing waterproof mascara. So she’d resemble a fat, fuzzed-out rat with raccoon eyes. Yeah. There was an image to turn him on.

Bennett motioned her inside the enclosure and settled her against the far wall. The tile chilled her back. He turned on the water and stood beneath the spray, facing her. “Watch me.”

Like she could take her eyes off his beautiful form. Long and lean, ripped arms, narrow torso, strong legs—his every muscle looked carved from granite. He wet a washcloth and soaped up, filling the humid space with a piney scent. Briskly rubbing the sudsy cloth over his arms, his neck and shoulders. Across his pecs and abdomen to his crotch. Over his fully erect cock. Between his legs, down to his ankles, feet and toes. He tossed the cloth aside and squirted shampoo into his palm. Closing his eyes, he scrubbed his head, turning away to rinse.

The rear view was as impressive as his front. Powerful shoulders and back. Firm buttocks so perfectly round and hard her teeth ached to take a bite.

He shut the water off, but steam still hissed from a pipe low to the floor, keeping the space warm. Bennett said, “Face the wall.”

He’d moved in behind her. His mouth latched onto her nape. “Did you touch yourself last night after you left here?”

“No.”

“Did you touch yourself this mornin’?”

“No.”

“And how did you feel today?”

“Achy. Edgy. Needy.”

His hot breath burned her ear. “That’s how you’re supposed to feel. Last night was about putting you at ease. Tonight is about you proving to me that you’re ready for this.”

She squared her shoulders. “I am ready.”

Sweet, lazy kisses morphed into tiny nips on the fleshy slope of her shoulder. She shivered. Bit her lip against a moan.

He zigzagged his tongue along her spine to the tops of her buttocks and placed a sucking kiss in the middle of each cheek. “Get on your knees.”

Again she felt that flip in her belly. That spike of heat in her pulse. That deep throb in her sex. As she got into position, Bennett perched on the edge of the bench seat, his feet planted wide on the tile floor.

She dropped to her knees, allowing her hands to rest on her lap.

“Angel, you are a quick study.”

His compliment stirred an odd sense of pride inside her.

“Touch your nipples.”

Ainsley pressed her palms over her breasts. Squeezing the fleshy globes, she began to rub the centers of her palms over her nipples in small circles.

Her gaze flew to his when two strong hands enclosed her wrists, stopping the motion.

Bennett brought her right palm to his mouth and thoroughly bathed it with his tongue. Then her left palm. Then he placed them back on her nipples.

The wetness from his mouth coupled with the heat in his eyes tightened the tips further. She rubbed faster. Need radiated from her breasts down her belly to gather between her thighs. She was hyperaware of the incremental changes in her own body as she became aroused. She hadn’t taken the time to absorb those changes in the past. She’d been was too busy racing toward the orgasm finish line.

“Pinch them,” he said gruffly.

It was almost a relief to add more pressure.

“Harder. I wanna hear you gasp like that again. You can take a little more pain.”

Ainsley half-expected he’d reach out and show her what he wanted, but he didn’t. He expected her to follow his directions. Using just the tips of her thumbs and forefingers, she pulled her nipples and squeezed. A hot line of pain made her gasp.

A brawny hand cupped the back of her neck, bringing her head forward. She opened her eyes as the head of Bennett’s cock touched her mouth.

He painted her lips with the wet tip. “Relax your jaw. See how deep you can take me on the first try.” He didn’t wait for her to open her mouth fully; he just pushed past her lips.

She sucked when the thick cockhead rested on her tongue, wanting that first wholly male taste of him. She sucked again, harder, attempting to pull more of his shaft into her mouth, letting her tongue explore the sensitive underside.

Bennett’s hand curled around her jaw. “As much as I love those fuckin’ sexy little moans you’re making, you don’t get to direct this.”

Chastised, she peered up at him.

“Goddamn I like the defiant look you’re wearing right now. Like you expect me not to have enough willpower to stop you.” He shoved his cock further into her mouth, kicking in her gag reflex. “Wrong. I have more control than you know.”

Her eyes watered as she fought the urge to dislodge the hardness filling her mouth.

“Breathe.” His thumb stroked her cheek. “It’s gonna take some practice for you to take me all the way.” His blue eyes glittered with lust. “I’m a patient man, but I can’t wait to have your breath on my belly as my cock is buried so deep in your throat I can feel your heartbeat.”

That dirty play-by-play absolutely drenched her. Ainsley so wanted to squeeze her legs together to spread that hot slickness between her thighs. Physical proof she was really here and this wasn’t just another fantasy.

It wasn’t that she broke a rule; she just stretched the boundary a bit when she curled her hands around his knees and let her palms slide up his muscular legs until they reached his hips.

Bennett softly snarled at her. “Just for that, you don’t get to use your hands on my cock. Only this wicked mouth.” He pulled out and stroked back in, each time coming closer to the back of her throat.

She closed her eyes, wanting so much to make this good for him.

“Don’t swallow until I tell you to,” he warned. “I wanna see liquid running outta your mouth, making your neck wet.”

Every time she settled into the rhythm, Bennett mixed it up. Thrusting faster if he was going slow. Slowing down if he’d been using short, quick jabs. Proving to her that he had all the control.

She loved every second of it. His hand gripping the back of her neck. The hardness of his cock on her tongue, hitting the roof of her mouth, rubbing the inside of her cheek.

“Play with my balls,” he rasped, “but only my balls.”

The globes were already drawn up when her fingers brushed the seam between them. She rolled the balls on her palm. Her middle finger slid back to tickle his perineum with every upstroke of her mouth.

His thrusts all became short and fast.

Ainsley heard that swift intake of breath. The head rested on her tongue. His guttural, “Suck hard now,” was her only warning before hot ejaculate spurted in her mouth. “Swallow. All of it.”

She hollowed her cheeks and sucked, moving her tongue back and forth beneath the sweet spot as she swallowed.

“So. Fucking. Good. Christ.”

There was an endorsement of her oral skills. But she didn’t let up even to allow a small, cocky smile.

He slowly pulled out, using the hand holding the back of her neck to tip her head back.

Ainsley licked her smooth lips and met his gaze. Sated, yes. But something else lingered there. Something primal.

Bennett trailed his finger from the tip of her chin, down through the wetness coating her throat. “Beautiful. Look at you. So fucking beautiful.”

She blushed. No man ever said anything like that to her. Even while part of her did the cha-cha that she’d pleased him, she wondered if his compliments were simply because she’d just blown him.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That skeptical look. You frowned at me.”

Damn. She did have a crap poker face. “I did?”

“Mmm. But I know what’ll fix that. Stand.”

Her knees were wobbly. Bennett held onto her hips and nestled his face into her cleavage. Then he kissed the upper and lower swells of both her breasts before sucking on her nipples. Sucking with lazy intent. Showing her that the sucking was all about his enjoyment of her body, not hers. Which made his attentions that much more enjoyable.

He tipped his head back and looked at her when she sighed. “We’ll pick this up later. Meantime, feel free to use my robe.”

“I can’t get dressed?”

“No.”

“But—”

“Keep it up and you’ll be eatin’ supper nekkid.”

“Your robe will be just fine.”

He smirked and tossed her a towel. “Thought you might say that.”

After supper they watched the DVR’d episode of
Wheel of Fortune
and snuggled up on the couch.

Ben liked having Ainsley close. Their legs side by side on the ottoman. Her head resting on his shoulder. Her hand on his chest. His fingers trailing up and down her arm. Touching her without restriction as a Dom was one thing. But touching her like this? Almost absentmindedly just because he could? That gave him a sense of satisfaction on a different level.

“You don’t talk much about ranching.”