Submitting to the Cattleman (Cowboy Doms 6) - Page 39

“Yes, ma’am.” He pointed to the tack building between the stables. “He’s been in there all morning. You take care now.” With a tip of his hat, he strolled off with a swagger that always tugged at her lips.

Veering toward the outbuilding, Leslie turned her mind toward being there for Kurt with as much support and caring as he’d given her.

Chapter 12

Leslie entered the shed, the leather odor filling her nostrils the same moment her eyes found Kurt across the room. She paused, her heart stuttering, stopping then hitching into overdrive as she took in his shirtless appearance. His arm muscles flexed, his broad back glistened with a light sheen of sweat despite the cool temperature, his black hair clinging damply to his corded neck. The heat emitting from the fire burning furnace next to him paled in comparison to the hot torrent of blood through her veins. Her nipples went hard, her pussy spasmed, and when he lifted his dark head, nailing her with those midnight eyes, her buttocks clenched. But more than the realization of how badly she ached to resume their physical relationship, she yearned to erase the haunted look reflected on his face.

“Go back to the house, Leslie. I’m busy.”

Okay, he wasn’t going to make this easy. Refusing to back down from his cold reception, she wound her way slowly toward him, maneuvering around saddles draped on top of sawhorses, past the wall of hanging leads, bridles and reins, a large bin of metal horseshoes and a few pieces of equipment she did not want to know what they were used for.

His forearms and biceps rippled as he worked an oiled cloth over the seat of a saddle. “What are you doing there?”

Looking up, Kurt’s eyes flashed and his shadowed jaw tightened. God, she loved that stern, dominant stare, the one that said she was pushing her luck and gave her goosebumps. An idea formed, a risky, heart thumping thought that turned her palms as damp as her pussy.

“Working, and now wondering why you aren’t obeying me,” he bit off. “I’m busy, as you can see, and don’t have time to entertain you right now.”

Leslie fought back her own retort, recognizing his need to protect himself, and her from the anger and pain his father’s words wrought. The futility of trying to shield her heart by denying the strong physical needs he’d proven so good at satisfying was never so apparent, and she refused to back away from him again.

Lifting a hand to the buttons running from the scooped neckline of her thermal top to just below her breasts, she popped the top one free, lowering her other hand to the saddle between them. Running a finger over the smooth, warm leather, she said, “Funny, you’ve been wanting to entertain me since I got here. Tell me why you’re rubbing that nasty smelling stuff onto your saddle.” Her eyes lifted from his hands to his face as she flipped open another button.

“You’re playing with fire, sweetheart. Knock it off,” he warned.

“It’s hot in here.” Opening another button, she sidled over to a rack and pointed to what looked like a branding iron. “You don’t use that on your livestock, do you?” she asked with a shudder of revulsion.

“Sometimes, depending on the animal and the need.”

She turned back to him, freeing the last button. “That seems cruel.”

“It’s not,” he retorted. Cocking his head, he regarded her with a calmer expression that ratcheted her arousal another notch, and conjured a frisson of trepidation as only a Dom’s pointed look could. “I thought you didn’t want to sleep with me.


“I don’t want to sleep.” Releasing the front hook of her bra, she pushed the top and loose cups to the side and palmed her left breast. Rasping her thumb over the turgid tip, she sucked in a breath as she baldly stated, “And I’ve changed my mind about stopping our physical relationship.”

Kurt’s face didn’t soften as she’d hoped, nor did those black eyes reveal pleasure at her announcement. Refusing to give up, she shoved aside her submissive voice reminding her of the repercussions of pushing a Dom too far and forged ahead, willing to risk just about anything to erase the hurt his father caused. “In fact, I’m ready to pick up where we left off right away.” Stepping over to him, she continued to play with her breast as she cupped her free hand over his rigid, denim-covered cock. “See, you are pleased with my change of heart.”

“That doesn’t mean I appreciate you interrupting me, disregarding my order to leave, or touching yourself without my permission.”

“Oh, my, I’ve really racked them up, haven’t I?” Leslie shivered with the endless possibilities of his retribution, already feeling the heat blossoming across her backside. Dropping to her knees, she gazed up at him as she unbuckled his belt and slowly lowered his zipper. “Since I’m already in trouble, I may as well go for what I want.” The hot, heavy weight of his erection fell into her hand, the pearl of moisture beaded on the smooth cockhead too tempting to resist. Ignoring the way his eyes went to black slits and the almost painful grip of his hands in her hair, she filled her mouth with his steely cock.

“Son-of-a-bitch,” Kurt swore as she swirled her tongue under the plum shaped rim, teasing that sensitive spot before stroking downward, the thick, pumping veins jumping under her tongue.

Leslie relished his taste as much as his response and tight hold of her head by her hair. How had she managed to deny herself the pleasure of him? Maybe admitting how deeply her feelings ran had helped prod her toward taking this step, but she figured the biggest factor was wanting to ease his pain while storing up as many memories as possible to take with her if she was forced to leave. Either way, at this moment, here was where she wanted to be, where she needed to be.

Despite his sour mood, Kurt’s cock twitched, engorging and heating more and more with every lick of Leslie’s tongue, each nip of her teeth and the low moan erupting from her throat to vibrate against his flesh. He hadn’t wanted company right now, not while he was struggling to find a reason to continue living under the same roof as his father. The thought of returning to Houston was as appealing as holding himself back from his sub these past ten days, and he couldn’t bring himself to leave his home again.

Watching her face flush as she’d fondled herself had been Kurt’s undoing. A Dom could only hold back for so long, and no one could expect a man denied the one woman he craved above everyone else to keep himself in check when faced with such an offer. While he appreciated her support and efforts to boost his spirits, as well as the pleasure her hot mouth was delivering, his mood wouldn’t allow for her deliberate disobedience to go unaddressed.

Gritting his teeth, he pulled back from the wet suctions of her mouth, yanking on her hair as she tightened those soft lips around his cockhead and laved the seeping slit, her hands gripping his thighs. “As good as that feels, sweetheart,” he rasped, “it won’t get you a reprieve.” Pulling on his control, he stepped back and hauled her to her feet, making short work of loosening her jeans and tugging them down. “You should have left when I told you. Now your only recourse is to say red.” Spinning her around to face the propped saddle behind her, he tugged the shoulders of her top and bra down to her elbows, trapping her arms at her sides. “Bend over,” he commanded, applying pressure between her shoulders until she lay belly down on the saddle.

Leslie lifted her dangling, flushed face to say, “I won’t need my safeword,” and then looked back down at the wood floor.

The work going on around the stable yard seeped through the thin walls of the tack shed, but as Kurt swatted her upturned ass, he doubted the bare-skinned smacks reached the ears of any of his cowhands. As her soft, malleable flesh warmed under his palm, he decided he didn’t care if he was wrong. With each slap, her buttocks bounced and her breathing hitched. He delivered a string of steady spanks that covered her entire backside and then added strength to the last few aimed at her tender sit-spots. By the time he administered two more blistering blows, one in the center of each buttock, the delicate pink hue had deepened to dark crimson, her mewling whimper accompanying the uncomfortable shift of her hips.

Running his hand over the abused skin, Kurt stated, “That ends your warm-up.”

Whipping her head up and around, he almost smiled at her startled look. “Warm-up?” she squeaked.

Tags: B.J. Wane Cowboy Doms Erotic
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