Submitting to the Cattleman (Cowboy Doms 6)
“You… you could, maybe take away the… the pain another way.” She pressed one pale hand against his denim-covered cock with a deep inhale, dropping her eyes to his lap.
Kurt clenched his jaw and gripped her delicate wrist, determined not to take advantage of her inebriated state. “You would be sorry come morning and a clearer head.” He tried to remove her hand, but she was stronger than her slender frame indicated. Not wanting to use force, he left her hand there for now and prayed for restraint.
“But not tonight, and that’s all I care about right now.” She squeezed his erection and whispered that damnable word again, this time with an aching catch in her voice that shredded his good intentions. “Please.”
Leslie blamed the lucky members of The Barn and their recent commitments to their Doms for her uncharacteristic behavior and the lonely desperation plaguing her tonight. This man, Kurt, a virtual stranger, reminded her of those Masters she had trusted with her body, if not her secrets. His large body crowded her on the sofa, his intent looks, take charge manner and gentle hands stirred her arousal, making her pussy throb for more than her vibrator. With her head still in the fuzzy zone, the only coherent thought coming through clear enough to fully comprehend was the quiet emptiness of her apartment that was indicative of all that was missing in her life. If he left, she would have to face that reality yet again, and why do that tonight when tomorrow would come soon enough?
The thick bulge under her hand drew a ripple of longing, an ache for forgetfulness for a short time. The frozen peas had numbed her cheek and she dropped the bag to reach behind his neck and try to pull his head down to meet her lips.
“Son-of-a-bitch, girl, your hand is like ice.” Kurt gripped her wrist and tugged her hand down and the other one away from his groin.
Shackling both wrists in one large hand, he held her hands down between them. Leslie’s heart pounded and her mouth went dry. This is where any sane woman would become alarmed, but she’d lost her sanity three and a half years ago when she testified against two spoiled, drugged-up teens and their father’s threats ended her life as she’d known it. For her, that controlling hold meant she didn’t have to think, didn’t have to make decisions or worry about doing or saying the wrong thing.
“What’s my name?”
A test of her cognizance, but an easy one. “Kurt. Now will you stay?” The tension in her shoulders eased as he nodded, and she didn’t let the reluctance on his face bother her.
“Yes, against my better judgment. I hope to God you don’t make me regret this tomorrow.”
This time it was he who cupped her nape, only she didn’t resist as he pulled her up and covered her mouth with his. With his other hand still holding her wrists as he tightened his hold on her neck, she was left with no choice but to open for his slow exploration and to revel in his mastery. A deep-throated moan slipped from her mouth into his as he stroked her tongue, teeth and gums, his lips moving on hers in a constant, sensuous glide. By the time he eased back, they were both breathing heavy and his eyes had softened with a warmth that curled her bare toes.
“You could tempt a saint with that mouth, sweetheart, and I’m no saint.” In a smooth move, Kurt brought her hands above her head as he pushed her back onto the couch.
Leslie’s breath stalled as he unbuttoned the row of tiny buttons that ran from the scooped neckline to her waist, his eyes on her face as he spread the fabric open and flicked the front catch of her bra.
“Do you still want this?” he asked, cupping one breast and rubbing his thumb back and forth across the nipple.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Leslie arched up into his hand, heat spiraling down to her pussy as he plucked at the distended bud with tight pinches. And then he snagged her breath by sending his hat sailing to the floor and dipping his inky black head to her breast.
At the first touch of his lips wrapping around her nipple, she bucked under him; the first strong suction and she mewled, a pitiful sound of need.
“Like that, do you?” he murmured above the throbbing tip before rasping over it with his tongue.
Biting her lip, Leslie watched him shift to her other straining breast then slammed her eyes shut against the searing pleasure of his hot mouth. Thank God he didn’t demand an answer. She doubted she could form a coherent thought as he lavished much-needed attention on her nipples, moving back and forth to suckle, nip and lick until he’d turned both peaks into reddened, up-thrust, pulsing aches.
Breathing heavy, she gazed at his flushed, rugged face as he inched downward, those obsidian eyes on her as he once again asked, “Do you still want to continue?”
She clenched her hands in his grip and narrowed her eyes. “If you stop now, I can’t be responsible for what I might do.” And that wasn’t an idle threat. Whether it was this man she craved with such fiery intensity or her self-imposed celibacy that was responsible for her heightened arousal, she didn’t know, or care. All she wanted was the sweet oblivion of release to take her away from reality for a while.
“Good enough.” Kurt released her hands, rucked up her dress with one hand while fishing a condom from his pocket with the other.
“Let me,” she insisted when he took too long in lowering his zipper over his impressive cock. Wrapping a hand around his hot length, she shuddered at the feel of throbbing veins against her palm and the sight of a few pearly drops seeping from his slit. He was thick and long, and she couldn’t wait for the burn of his possession.
“Keep that up and this will be over before I get inside you,” he growled as she slowly rolled the latex down his rigid cock and then scraped her nails over his large sac. Shoving her hand aside, he ripped off her panties and settled between her splayed legs, one hand slipping between their bodies.
Leslie cried out with his deep fingered thrust, lifting up against his pumping hand. “Yes!”
“I guess I don’t have to ask again since you’re being quite clear. Deep breath, Leslie.”
She inhaled, gripping his arms as he surged inside her, stretching un-used muscles and abrading long-neglected nerve endings in one fell swoop. He pulled back and she shook her head, wrapping her legs around his hips. “No, please, don’t… just keep going,” she begged.
“You’re tight. I don’t want to hurt you.” Ignoring her plea, he retreated and then worked himself back inside her snug sheath much slower. She dug her nails into his biceps and he swore, grabbed her hands and returned them over her head. “Grip the armrest and don’t let go until I say. Got it?”
The dark commanding tone of his rough voice tugged at her nipples, prompted her sheath to gush with anticipation. This was what she craved, someone to take her over, giving her no choice but to comply or end it. The past didn’t exist and she didn’t have to think about tomorrow. Only now mattered.
“Answer me, Leslie,” he insisted with a shallow jab.
She nodded, her head bumping his chin. “Yes, I understand.”