Rope Burn: The Boot Knockers Ranch, Book 5 (11 page)

As soon as she responded, he buried his finger in her ass.

For a dizzying minute he couldn’t think or breathe. He needed to come—now.

So did she.

With the fruit spreading her pussy lips just right, he teased her clit with his tongue and withdrew his finger almost the whole way.

A ragged moan left her. Inner walls clenched and released.

“Stowe…” pant, pant, “Master. I can’t take it anymore. Please.”

Her words hurled him over the ridge. He counted to ten. Then twelve.

Fuck it.

He couldn’t maintain control. “Come for me, love. Come now.” He thrust his finger into her ass and fucked her hard and deep while lashing her clit with his tongue. The strawberry top shimmied as her orgasm swept over her.

She cried out, pounding against his mouth and hand, taking what she needed. Her noises filled the air, and he’d never look at this place again without thinking of her.

He caught the top of the strawberry in his teeth and pulled it free. She moaned and gave a final shudder as he licked the juices of her ecstasy. She was silent and unmoving.

After only seconds he realized she was there again—in that subspace.

A protective instinct swallowed him. He eased his finger free of her ass and spent several moments massaging the place he’d just breached. When he looked up to find her wearing a glow put there by him, he felt a bone-deep pang.

This week was going to be too short.

Tabbart stole through the night behind Stowe. Her hand in his solid, warm one linked her to reality as they wove around outbuildings. She had no idea how he could see—the night was inky black with no moon or stars. He’d said a front was blowing in and they might have to make a picnic in the bungalow tomorrow.

Then he’d dropped that slow, sexy wink that made her insides quiver. They’d been quaking since her arrival. If she were honest, he’d set her off-balance the day she’d met him on her set.

She tripped and his hands were there, steadying her. He hugged her to him briefly and she felt her hair stirring. Was he brushing his lips over it?

When they started moving again, she knew he’d guide her through the black night to their destination and allowed her mind to wander.

The crickets seemed to scream their song and the ground changed under her feet. Softer, somehow. She threw out her senses and caught Stowe’s musky scent. She wasn’t prepared for the shiver of lust that racked her. Forget being a food addict. In a short time she’d become a sex addict.

“What is making that sound? I recognized the crickets, but I don’t know this one.” Her voice sounded strangely loud too.

“Peeper frogs.”

Ah. Now that she concentrated, she detected the smell of water. Earthy with puddles of stagnant water. Wet grasses. The ground grew spongier.

Stowe held some branches aside and she ducked under with him. When they came out on the other side, they faced an inkwell of blackness. Without the moon, she couldn’t make out the edges but knew she faced a body of water.

As he tugged her hand, she dug in her feet. “What are we doing?”

“There’s a small dock around the side. Not far. I won’t let you slip.”

She tightened her fingers around his and let him lead.

This whole trip was much different from what she’d expected. She’d thought to lounge around and jot notes for new shows between some good sex. But she hadn’t spent much time resting and her producers and recipes were far from her mind. Stowe was pretty all-consuming.

And the sex…

Her feet moved automatically as she followed him around the edge of the pond, but she couldn’t see where she was stepping. Apparently this was the tone of her entire trip. She didn’t know what to expect next with him. It scared and exhilarated her.

The toe of her boot struck something hard and she found herself being led onto wooden boards. They were solid beneath her feet but she felt far from grounded.

A few more steps and he stopped. His arms slid around her and she rested her head against his chest. Heartbeat and man. This wasn’t her life. She was dreaming.

“Have you ever danced on a moonless night?” he asked, words lilting with his accent.

She burrowed closer to his heat, though she was far from cold. “No. I haven’t had a lot of romantic moments lately.”

He began to revolve. She feared they’d step off the dock and plummet to the water—who knew how deep it was—but as soon as he grazed her lips with his, she abandoned her worry.

His kiss was tender, searching. When the kiss ended without wild tongue-tangling, she felt a new sort of warmth spread through her.

He turned and sat, pulling her down beside him. Then he hitched up his pant legs and tugged off his boots and socks. She watched, fascinated by his every movement. For some reason she’d never thought a man like Stowe would dip his bare feet into the water.

“The water’s not too cold.” His way of urging her to do the same.

She removed her boots and socks and scooted to the edge of the dock. She made out ripples not far away. “What’s in this pond?”

“Alligators.”

She jerked her feet up.

His rich laugh filled the air. “Just kidding. Some good pan fish if you’ve a mind to sit and catch them.” He shifted so his shoulder bumped hers. Relaxing, she dipped her feet into the water.

Cool in a refreshing way. On a sultry summer night she could see the allure of skinny-dipping. She swished her feet back and forth, and he did the same but in counter-rhythm.

She pushed, he pulled. The sound seemed to enter her bloodstream and her heart beat to it. The moment of quiet worked magic on her nerves. She didn’t feel at all fidgety, and thoughts of her normal life were far away.

“We need to discuss what happened earlier, Tabbart.”

She jerked and he rested a hand on her knee to soothe her. “What do you mean?”

“You need to know why I wouldn’t let you come. Why I have control of that.”

While her mind whirled with questions, she wasn’t able to bring them to order to ask one. “Please tell me why,” she said almost shyly.

His foot brushed hers under the water. “I must have your total trust.”

She looked at him. In the darkness, he was all angles. He looked like granite and his voice could sound like it too. But when she was under his hands, she only knew pure softness and joy. Even when he’d spanked her.

He went on, “You give your body and needs to me. I take care of them.”

“What do you get out of it?”

His eyes burned through her. “It’s what I do, Tabbart. It’s who I am.”

“Even before you were a Boot Knocker?”

“Yes. I was born this way, and most of the time I run on gut instinct. There’s no handbook that says if a woman does this, you try that. No, you’re special, love. What you need is quite different from others.”

“What do I need?” Her voice sounded breathy.

His stare was dark and shiny. The pond rippled and frogs and crickets sang. They felt very far from the ranch. When he spoke, each syllable fed a wild need in her. “You have control of every aspect of your life. Your job demands it. Even when you go out, you must take care to smile and look pleasant. You wear the right clothes or you’ll end up on the cover of a tabloid.”

She sucked in a breath. He knew. Someone finally got it. Her heart pounded heavily. “It’s true.”

“So you need an outlet. You need to come home and run your hands through your perfect hair and muss it. You need to put on kinky stockings and take a paddling to let go.”

Oh God. Yes, she wanted it. Her pussy was so slippery.

“I want to push you fast, Tabbart. We only have a few more days. Will you grant me your trust to do what’s right for you?”

She could hardly breathe, visions of herself tied to some piece of leather-covered furniture and taking a whip to the backside snapping through her mind. Handing him the reins and letting him do what he would made her nervous. She already had, but what he wanted was darker.

A little voice inside her said,
I have nothing to lose.

She felt herself nodding.

With his foot, he stopped the momentum of hers under the water, rubbing his toes over hers. “Good. I won’t let you down, love.”

They sat in silence for long minutes. The far-off low of cow centered her in the present. “The bull program you’re starting…is that something you’ll do on the side with this position?”

His lips tightened, then relaxed so quickly she wondered if the darkness was playing tricks on her eyes. “I’m not sure. If I’m honest, I’m feeling a little confused.”

She leaned toward him. “Tell me.”

“I came to Texas to raise cattle. My sister reminded me of that when I visited. It’s had me thinking for weeks.”

“About getting out of the Boot Knockers Ranch.”

He rubbed a hand over his face, the most telling action she’d ever seen from him. He was always so in control of his emotions and expressions. She hardly saw the man beneath his mask.

Maybe they were more alike than she’d first thought.

“I know I can’t do this for much longer. I’ll age.”

“I think you’ll be sexy as hell when you’re fifty.”

That brought a smile to his face. “And sixty?”

She pictured him with more lines and gray streaks in his hair. She’d never see him as anything but strong and virile. She nodded.

“What do you want at sixty, love?”

That threw her off course. Stowe never did anything that didn’t send her for a loop, though. “I’d like to be dreaming of baking cookies for some grandchildren.”

His teeth flashed white. “Not ordinary chocolate chip, I’m sure.”

“Well, no. White chocolate macadamia nut maybe.”

They shared a laugh and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tugging her against him. She relaxed, breathing him in, letting the night sounds fill her with total peace.

Then he ripped it from her with one sentence. “Tabbart, it’s time we negotiate for something big tonight.”

“What’s that?”

“Your ass. I want to fuck it.”

Chapter Seven

Stowe’s words played on a constant loop through Tabbart’s head as she prepared herself. She showered, washed and dried her hair. Then she slathered herself in cream, taking care to rub it in so she wasn’t greasy.

She stood before the mirror, staring at her reflection. Shocked by how bright her eyes looked, she leaned forward to peer more closely. They didn’t change the nearer she got to the mirror—she really was that excited.

About anal sex.

Crazy. For the tenth time she wondered what her colleagues and fans would think of her now. When she returned to the set, she’d stand before the cameras and America as a changed woman.

She drew a deep breath and turned from the mirror. When she opened the door, she spied Stowe immediately. Her knees threatened to buckle and land her facedown on the plush carpet.

He was wearing leather pants—the ones from the website photo.

She shivered as she dragged her gaze from his bare chest and six-pack abs to the impossibly tight leather. He must melt himself down and pour himself into them. And God, they were real leather. She could smell it from here.

As she moved her gaze back up, he caught it. And held it. His dark eyes made her heart hammer and need rush in her veins.

He held out a hand to her and she stepped forward, glad for her fluffy robe. The terrycloth felt like armor right now—if she were nude before a man in leather, with crops and paddles spread on the bed between them, she’d feel like the submissive he wanted.

She wasn’t that person. Well, not until she needed release and begged for it.

“You’re blushing.” His rumble sent her nerves zinging. His warm hand enveloped hers and he drew her close. The instant her body made contact with his, she grew boneless. Any idea of control flew out the window, and she placed herself in his capable and tormenting hands.

He rubbed her spine in slow circles before easing his hand beneath her hair and cupping her nape. When he touched the corner of her mouth with a forefinger, she twisted into him.

A growl vibrated from his chest as he dipped his head and claimed her mouth. No, owned her mouth.

Long, hot passes of his tongue dizzied her and stole her breath. She threw her arms around him, locking him to her. Never wanting to let go.

Of course she might change her mind once they began.

Gliding his hands down to her ass, he plunged his tongue deeper. She moaned as he squeezed her ass and lifted her on tiptoe. The bulge of his erection pushed against her lower belly. What was it about him that made her want to sink to her knees and worship him for hours?

He tugged her against his cock and they shared a groan. As he pulled out of the kiss, he nibbled her lower lip.

When he stepped away from her, she missed his heat and support.

His dark eyes pierced her. “Take off your robe.”

Her hands trembled slightly as she loosened the knot of the belt. The cloth fell open to reveal her flesh from neck to knee. A slim rectangle of cleavage, navel and pussy.

In one step he was with her again, hands on the robe, ripping it open to see what she’d done.

Shaved bare.

“Do you…like it?” She could hardly ask without flushing hotter than ever.

Without a word he clamped his hand over her mound, fingers digging into her folds. His stare was as hard as his grip on her pussy. His touch was far from tender, yet it sent her rocketing skyward.

“You never shave without my permission. Understand?”

A lump formed in her throat. Was he angry? “I thought…”

“It’s fucking gorgeous, Tabbart. I loved seeing your patch of curls but… Don’t mistake my displeasure for dislike.”

“I don’t understand.” Her voice was stronger.

“I am in control of your body. From head to toe. I say when you shave—if you shave.” He eased his grip and stroked her pussy with one long finger. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he leaned over her. “Next time you ask.”

“Okay.” She got it. She did. He owned her body while she was here. Actually, it was an exciting idea. While she had a team of people to primp her, they did that for pay. Stowe had control of her pleasure.

Juices flooded his finger, and he pulled it off her seam with exquisite slowness, withdrawing tip, first knuckle, then lifting his finger completely.

She sagged against him.

With much more tenderness he lifted her and carried her to the bed. Then he set her on her feet and stripped her robe off. It fell away, leaving her exposed and more alive than she’d ever been.

Her nerve endings tingled. She clenched her hands as he took his time exploring her body with his hands. Touching her as if he didn’t recognize her now that she’d shaved her pubic hair.

When she’d done it, she’d only thought to surprise and please him. Now she wished she’d waited.

He began to kiss her—throat, collarbones—teasing her breasts until she shook. He spent long minutes on her sides and belly, lapping circles around her navel. But he avoided the place she really wanted his kiss.

Punishment.

Strange how it heightened her awareness now. She felt that strong grip on her pussy and craved it again. Or his palm on her ass. Anything for his touch.

A constant shiver ran through her and she could barely stand still. Finally Stowe sank to his knees, at eye level with her pussy. Her breathing came in harsh pants as she watched his face.

His mask was in place.

When he leaned in and nuzzled his nose against her velvety-smooth mound, she clasped her hands around his head. Holding him, heart thundering. Bits of her slipped away and she knew she’d never get them back. Those pieces were sweet and tender parts of herself she hadn’t known she owned anyway. Let Stowe have them.

His body seemed to hum under her fingers. Hot breath washed over her skin.

Seconds ticked by and he didn’t move to lick her needy nubbin or stroke her wet folds. He just leaned against her as if he were doing the worshipping.

Something snapped inside her and she understood better. This wasn’t all her giving. The game was give and take. They were both forces to be reckoned with, and she had some power over the hunky cowboy in leather pants.

Made heady, she threaded her fingers into his hair. He turned his cheek to rest on her mound. “Beautiful,” he murmured.

Then he rose and took her by the shoulders, turning her. Without resistance she allowed him to press her onto the mattress and position her legs apart and arms above her head.

She felt him moving and wondered which tool he was going to pick up and use on her ass, just as they’d discussed in the fields earlier. Her skin prickled in readiness and arousal.

When the blow came, she recognized it as soft. He was warming her up.

And she was ready.

Stowe’s cock was hard steel and his eyes felt bleary with lust. Each smack burrowed into his psyche, drawing him deeper into her world. He circled the bed, reluctantly moving away from Tabbart’s bright-red ass in order to look at her face.

When he crouched to see her eyes, his heart gave a lurch. No fear but extreme excitement lurked there.

Fuck, could he get a more perfect sub? For being untrained, she was amazing. She just…gave.

Pink splotches of color were roses on her cheeks. Her eyes were wide and calm.

She was in her subspace.

“All right, love?”

She nodded.

He put his hands on her to rouse her enough to bring her back to reality. He didn’t want to push too far while she wasn’t herself. He shook her shoulders a bit and asked again. The tassled short whip he’d used had done its job—maybe too well.

“I’m okay.” Her voice was faint but hers.

“Good. I’m going to use the crop now. I want you to roll onto your back.”

Her eyes flickered; then she obeyed. He positioned her arms at her sides to keep them from aching. She started to change her leg position and he stopped her. “I want your legs wide. I’m going to spank your pussy.”

She blinked and her breaths came faster, making her delicious tits jiggle.

“Can you take it? I’ll go easy. Just a few lashes of the crop, Tabbart.”

She hesitated and nodded at last.

“Safe word?”

She shook her head with so much denial he smiled. He picked up the crop. A short, black stick just pliant enough for the sensitive parts he planned to use it on.

He lightly tapped her right nipple with it. She sucked in a breath and arched. He studied her face before going on to the left. Right again. Left. The buds stuck out, bright red. His mouth watered to suck them. But not yet.

When he struck her right nipple again, she arched into the crop.

Fuck. He wasn’t going to last at this rate. He held his breath as he dealt the same love to the left nipple.

She twisted into his touch as if begging for more.

If he spent more time on her luscious breasts, he’d blow. He dipped his gaze over her belly to her pussy.

The mound tortured him with its pure beauty. Creamy-skinned and silky soft. He could burrow his face against it and remain there for hours, just smelling her light scents.

He clenched his jaw to keep his growl from escaping. Her pussy was like a ripe peach ready to be split.

By him.

He skimmed the end of the crop over it. She stared at him. Good submissive. Beautiful woman. Perfect.

As he raised the crop and let it fall against her pussy, his thoughts shattered. She cried out and spread her legs.

He spanked her pussy—mound, outer lips, inner thighs. She squirmed and writhed but he knew it wasn’t from pain. She was soaking wet, dripping with cream. For him.

His cock throbbed and he longed to fuck her hard and fast. But not yet.

He spanked her clit lightly and she loosed a long moan.

Jesus, she was getting off on this, unlike so many women he’d worked with. She’d been born to be here.

He smacked her again, barely hard enough to sting. She thrust her hips up to meet the crop.

Five more times and she was panting.

“Are you going to come from your pussy spanking, love?”

“Yes!”

“Do you want more?”

“Only if you want to give it to me, Master.”

He went dead still, ingesting her words.

Shock and desire melded into a tornado in his chest. How had he ended up here with such a perfect woman for him?

“Please.” Her quiet plea and the look in her eyes undid him.

He spanked her repeatedly, sliding into his own headspace. As she began to come, he lost himself in her eyes and didn’t return to himself for a long minute.

She made a noise and he tossed aside the crop and crawled into bed with her, gathering her in his arms. She was soft and pliant after her release. He held her and stroked her hair while kissing her.

“How did that happen?” she whispered at last.

“It’s not something I see very often, love.”

“But I actually…came from you spanking me with that crop.”

He felt like roaring and doing a primal chest-thumping. If he were wearing a shirt, he’d have popped the buttons. It was impossible to keep the pride from his tone. “I know.”

“It was so intense.”

All of a sudden he couldn’t resist tasting her. He slid down her body, parted her legs and began to lick her clean. Flavors exploded on his tongue from a release he’d caused by getting deep into her mind.

Whether she knew it or not, he owned her.

He slowed his tongue over her folds, chest burning a little with regret. In days she’d be gone, and he’d be alone, replaying these moments in his head.

When he drew away, he looked into her eyes. “Are you good to continue?”

“Yes.”

She knew what he was asking—was she ready for his cock in her untouched ass? During their negotiation he’d learned she was indeed an anal virgin. A few guys had hinted at it in her past, but she hadn’t given them her trust.

She gave it to Stowe.

He turned her onto her stomach and drew her onto hands and knees. Then he took several long seconds to caress her ass. It was warm to touch and would feel amazing while he pounded into her.

The preparations went fast. With condom on and lube smeared over her, he began to finger her backside. When she started to moan, he added a second finger. Scissoring his fingers apart, stretching her for him.

“I’ll go slow, love.”

“I don’t know if I want that.” Her face was turned to the side, her lips swollen from his kisses and from biting them.

He drowned in her words, his precious thread of control about to snap.

With a groan he removed his fingers and rubbed his engorged cock head against her opening. Then he fitted it and pushed.

The barrier was tight but there was no use for it—he had to shove. As he popped through the outer ring of muscle, she cried out.

He fell still, rubbing her spine with one hand. “Okay, love? That was the worst of it.”

“Just a second…Master.”

His heart was nearly ripped out by her panted word. In the back of his mind he was quite aware he was sinking too deep. He’d nearly gotten to this point with that trained sub who’d been at the ranch months ago. But this was bigger, deeper, stronger.

He didn’t care what he had to do to distance himself later. Right now he was claiming Tabbart’s ass.

With a slow push he entered her inch by insane inch. He shook with the need to take her hard and fast. When he seemed to bottom out, he tugged her hips higher to accommodate him.

A quiet moan left her and she seemed boneless again. In her subspace?

Good.

He filled her in one short pulse of his hips. Then he spent a crazed moment staring at the place where he disappeared into her heat.

Early on he’d learned to use counting as a distraction and to remain in control. But this was beyond him. He had to move.

The first time he withdrew, she issued a ragged moan. He watched her face as he pushed back in. Then out.

Pretty soon she was arching to take him and he couldn’t stop. Wild heat galloped through his system. His balls were tight to his body as he glided into her in a steady rhythm.

As soon as her walls clamped around him hard, he was a goner.

He reached around her and fingered her clit madly while his orgasm struck. When she joined him on the other side of ecstasy, he felt something tender and beautiful and totally foreign bloom inside him.