Spanking Her Highness

by Patricia Green

  The sensation in her nipples grew as he squeezed her breasts in his big hands, massaging them. "You have the sweetest titties."

  Gabby giggled. It always made her laugh when he called them that. To her, they were "breasts" or "boobs." His word was countrified and charming.

  "Thank you." More squeezing and milking of her nipples. "God that feels good," she said on a sigh. "Can I get up?"

  "Not right yet." His hands traveled down her body as he rose behind her, until they framed her hips.

  As she lay there, her butt throbbing, she heard his zipper and the jingle of his belt buckle. "I shouldn't ought to reward your bad behavior, li'l girl," he said. "But I wouldn't be much of a man if it didn't turn me on to see your ripe butt and the shinin' wet pussy right there under it."

  A thrill went through Gabby and she moaned. He slid his hard cock over her private parts. Sensation flowed and pooled at her entrance. "Yes…yes, please," she whispered.

  The smooth head of his prick made contact with her swelling clit and she gasped. Ace settled behind her, not in her, as one of his hands stole over her bottom and down between her legs. He parted her folds, playing with her labia, tugging gently and rolling the tender flesh between his fingers.

  She panted and squirmed back against him.

  "Swollen and wet. Just the way I like it," he said softly, his fingers finding her clit and giving it a light pinch.

  "Oh! Oh God, Ace!"

  He pressed himself against her wetness, and she could feel his balls slap against her pussy. "You want this?"

  "Yes!"

  He pulled away slightly and tore a wrapper. After a moment, he pressed the head of his cock at her entrance. "You sure?"

  "Yes! Yes, please! Ace!"

  "Alright." With one firm motion, he slammed into her, claiming her.

  "Oh! Oh!" She was stretched, full, complete. As he started to move in her, pumping in and out with a steady rhythm, she felt like they were the only two people on the planet. There was Ace. There was Gabby. There was the growing smell of sex around them, and the warm summer night. Nothing else mattered.

  He varied his strokes and Gabby's heart sped up. Whorls of excitement played in her womb, growing ever fuller as Ace joined together with her.

  "Rosebud," he murmured as he pressed a thumb on her puckered hole and rubbed gently.

  Gabby's excitement soared higher. Would he take her there? They'd done it once before, and it had hurt fiercely, but after a few minutes she'd begun to like it. It was different. Not what she'd grown to expect from her randy fiancé. She realized that it didn't matter so much how he took her, only that he did.

  She squirmed against him, encouraging him as he rocked his hips harder and harder. "You like that, huh?"

  "Yes!"

  His thumb penetrated her slightly. "You want more?"

  "Please!" She was beginning to spin out of control. Just a few more strokes. A few more. A little deeper. His thumb entered her and she arched and cried out his name.

  "That's my girl," he said, growling.

  She saw a thousand stars, the scent of his heated body spiraling through her brain, his pants and growls pushing her past the edge and into an abyss of pleasure.

  As she started to come down, he thrust once more and groaned his pleasure. Ripples of release sped along his hard cock and deep into Gabby.

  They rested there, gasping, for several minutes.

  Gabby realized that her arms were tired, but she didn't care. She was so relaxed, so perfectly fulfilled. She could have easily curled up beside her man, right there in the tractor shed, and slept like a baby.

  He pulled away and patted her still-sore rump. "Best we get movin' back to the house. Mornin' comes early."

  "Yes," she murmured as she rose to get into her clothes.

  He took her wrist as she drew her bra out of the pile at her feet. "You mind now, li'l girl. Spankin' you has some…added benefits…but it's better to do it for fun."

  Smiling, she nodded. She'd be good. At least for a while.

  * * *

  Will grunted as he fitted another fence post in place. Even gloved, his hands were sore and tired, but the bunching of his shoulder muscles as he did the labor felt good and honest. Sweat trickled down his bare back. His tan had been enhanced dramatically by working out in the summer sun.

  The work was a little tedious, allowing him time to think about things. Queenie was foremost on his mind. She was difficult and often belligerent, but when they weren't fighting, she softened to his touch.

  The night of the engagement party, standing around with her family as things had been winding down, she'd laughed at a few of his jokes. Almost as if she couldn't quite help it. He gave her a little nod, shooting a glance toward the wisteria bower in a darkened corner of the yard.

  At first, a little frown had formed on her brow, but slowly her face had taken on a pirate's smile.

  He wondered if she intended to knee him in the groin, there in the dark, but she silently agreed to meet him.

  Will waited several minutes, and as he was deciding that he'd misunderstood her reaction, she walked up.

  "Will."

  "Queenie."

  "Smells good in here, doesn't it?" she said.

  He nodded, then realized she'd have trouble seeing him in the very low light. "Yeah." When she wasn't railing at him, she was vibrant and incredibly sexy. Even bratty, Will found her appealing. She was a challenge. A challenge that he wanted to undertake.

  It was almost a surprise to him that he could feel so compelled toward a woman who was so argumentative. He'd been more inclined toward compliant women; women who were submissive in most areas of their lives. His last girlfriend had cried when he told her he was leaving L.A., and he felt guilty about breaking off their relationship. But it hadn't been going anywhere for months, and he'd slowly been pulling away from her, finally talking to her about it and the need to see other people. As with all aspects of their relationship, she'd agreed, but she didn't quite cooperate that time. She kept turning up where he was. Kept finding ways to work on his projects. When he told her he was leaving, she acted like he'd stomped on her kitten.

  Queenie would have beaned him with a two-by-four.

  Fiery Queenie. Reaching out to touch her cheek, he took a step closer to her. She didn't withdraw, so he let his thumb trace her lips. She closed her eyes, as though enjoying the sensual touch.

  He slid his hand around to the back of her neck and bent toward her face, breathing his warning, barely audibly. "I'm going to kiss you."

  "No," she told him, and he hesitated. "I'm going to kiss you."

  With that, she pressed up against him and locked her lips with his. Her kiss was nothing less than an assault, but he didn't give her the upper hand for long. Will met the strokes of her tongue and crushed her body against his. His erection was immediate, bringing back compelling memories of taking her on his sofa, and sitting quietly, admiring her red behind in her bedroom. Both images flashed before him and he cupped her warm bottom with both hands, grinding his pelvis up against her belly.

  She moaned into his mouth and tugged on his hair with eager fingers. Will thought maybe her butt was still a little sore from being strapped earlier, but she wasn't pulling away.

  He didn't understand her acquiescence to his lusty attentions, but he was happy to oblige her. They had some chemistry that was provocative and hard to resist. Sometimes they were flushed with lust, and other times, they were flushed with pure irritation. Queenie was hard to resist, and he'd almost given up trying. She was here. She was in his arms. It was right.

  Running his hands from her rear up her back, he slid them around and cupped her breasts, separating their bodies slightly so he could thumb her hard nipples.

  Gasping, she arched into his hands.

  "You make me so crazy," she whispered. He squeezed her nipples and she moaned again. "More."

  He chuckled, and gave her what she wanted. Queenie's hand moved from his hair down the front of
his body to cup his aching cock. "I like this," she told him.

  "I'm kinda fond of it myself."

  She giggled and stroked him through his pants.

  "Come home with me tonight," he suggested.

  She kissed his chin, still exploring him with her fingers. "Can't."

  "Why not?"

  "My family. My father doesn't much like his li'l girl sleepin' with the neighbor boys."

  "We're going to be married, Queenie. Do you really think it matters?"

  She sighed and slowly pulled away from him. "Always comes back to that."

  Her belly was firm when he touched it through her dress. "There's more to it than that."

  "I want somethin' you can't give me, Will."

  "I have lots to give, Queenie. I'm secure financially; I have a solid property; I'm not a toad to look at." He grinned. "At least I hope not. What's wrong with me? Do I smell bad?"

  She giggled. "No, you smell fine. You're a fine man. I want you…want to make love with you. But that's not enough. I want the impossible. I want a man who loves me and will be true to me. Harry cheated. I thought I loved him, but it all fell apart. I don't want to make myself vulnerable like that again."

  Will stroked her hair. How did he really feel about Queenie? He wanted her; that was certain. He lusted after her. He wanted her to share their baby with him. And, he couldn't imagine a world without her anymore. A world where she wasn't ranting at him and making him feel alive and vital. Maybe he was in love with her. But, judging by her confession, love might not be the answer.

  "Give it a chance, Queenie. Don't turn away."

  "Do we have to argue?"

  "No. But you are being stubborn without good reason."

  Her sigh was pure exasperation. "I have good reasons. I just told you my reasons! Were you listenin'?"

  Will stepped back, his patience sorely tested. "I heard your reasons. You know I'm not like Harry Tatum."

  "No, you're bossier!"

  "You're doing it again! Stop arguing with me!"

  "You really tick me off."

  "You've got your prickles, too, Queenie."

  "I do not!"

  "Why are we doing this again?" He singsonged, "I do not! Yes, you do! I do not! Yes you-"

  "I'm not talkin' to you anymore, you…uh…slimy bastard!"

  "Fine." He turned to go, but threw one more comment over his shoulder. "I'm not going away easily, Queenie. You might try to push me away in order to make me prove I want you again and again. But I know what I want and I'm as stubborn as you."

  "Go fu…soak your head!"

  He'd stomped off without another backward look, and had tossed and turned all night until it was time to get up and deal with the broken fences.

  The rest of the crew stopped working and looked up when Marco's truck came up, trailing dust and gravel. Will removed his hat and wiped sweat off his face as he watched Marco walk over. The foreman nodded his greeting, his eyes looking tired and troubled.

  "Break time, men," Will told them. He put down his tools and gestured to Marco, moving away a little way to make this conversation private.

  "Vet's been here, Will. Definitely foul play with Starlight."

  The prize-winning stud had been sick that morning, with some sort of digestive thing. They'd called the vet right away.

  "Damn! Does he know what it was?"

  Marco nodded. "Fungus in the barley."

  "Well, that doesn't sound like foul play."

  "It was only in Starlight's feed. Ain't no other horses had problems, and we didn't see no trace of the white fungus on the sack of grain, only in Starlight's share."

  Will's anger flared. "How the fuck did this happen? I thought we were being more careful with who had access to the stable and barnyard!"

  "Don't know, boss. This guy has to be one of the hands. They're the only people can get to it."

  "I know who it is, and I'm gathering proof."

  "Casteneda?"

  "Yeah."

  The other man pursed his lips. "I have an idea."

  They talked for a few more minutes and then Marco drove back to the ranch buildings. They'd formulated a plan, now Will had to hope it would work out. At least he wasn't going to rely on others to catch the criminal or protect his property. This time, he was going to take the bull by the horns.

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  Sitting with her legs curled up under her, Queenie tried to relax and read the book she'd been staring at for the past half hour. The words swam in front of her as she dealt with the issues in her life and where she wanted it to go.

  Harry had called earlier, offering tickets to see Thunder McCleary, but she'd firmly told him no.

  "I don't want to talk to you anymore, Harry," she said. "I know you sent that woman to scare me, but it didn't work. I've got the sheriff watchin' out for me. He knows about you."

  "What do you mean? You told the sheriff I was behind somethin'?"

  "You know what I mean."

  "You bitch! If my father finds out, I'm out of my condo! He'll take me out of his will, too!"

  "You should have thought of that before."

  "It's one thin' to turn down my generous offer to go in on McCleary, but it's another thin' to get me in more trouble with the law and my father."

  "If you didn't do it, you have nothin' to worry about."

  His voice was low, gravelly, menacing. "Call off the sheriff."

  "Or what? You gonna send your girlfriend to scare me again? Don't be an ass, Harry."

  "I got other ways of makin' you pay."

  Queenie didn't trust him, and he'd greatly destabilized over the last year as his drug habit increased. A siren blared in her head, but she wasn't the kind of person to back down. Journeys didn't flinch. "I don't take kindly to threats. And neither does my family."

  "Or that Mazie guy, huh?"

  "You leave him out of it."

  "Ah. I see how it is. Got the hots for him, huh? You fuckin' him now?"

  Anger flared all over Queenie's body and she snapped her response. "Nothin' in my life is any of your business, Harry! You goddamn stay out of it!"

  "What if I told him you slept with the whole band? Even Becky."

  "That's a fuckin' lie and you know it! I would never do that. I haven't been with anyone since you, you asshole!"

  "You were a crappy lay, too, Queenie."

  "This conversation is over."

  "Sure. I got other calls to make. What's Mazie's number?"

  "Oh!" She poked at the disconnect button as though she was poking Harry in the eye.

  Now, an hour later, she'd mostly calmed down. But she was more worried than she wanted to be. Harry could do anything and she had no control over it. She had to think about what to do. Should she contact Will and tell him about Harry's threat?

  Or what if she let Harry do his worst and tell Will that lie? Would she get what she'd been stridently telling Will—for him to back off? A curl of unhappiness turned in her gut. She didn't want him to back off. Not really. She enjoyed his pursuit, no matter what its cause. It was always a confusing sort of thrill to see him. Maybe he was doing it all because of the baby…but maybe not. They had been intimate before, of course. That's how the baby came about. Their mutual attraction continued through all the friction.

  The right friction was a good thing, she thought wryly.

  There were things she truly appreciated about Will. Things unique to him. If Harry made Will find her repulsive, she'd be mighty lonely. Her family was good, solid, comfortable, but it wasn't the same as having someone you love romantically in your life.

  Wait. Realization finally settled in her belly like a hot rock. She was in love with Will Mazie. That's where the fear of Harry and the longing for Will's company came from.

  Damn it, she didn't want to risk her emotions on another man! Harry had been such a huge mistake. But then, Will and Harry were as different as goats and platypuses—worlds apart.

  Queenie prided herself
on being a woman who wasn't afraid of life. She was strong, as all the Journeys were strong. Was she strong enough to take the chance with Will?

  * * *

  Will knew his plan was going to work. It was foolproof. As he led the new horse into the barn, he imagined how it was going to be. Casteneda was going to try to pull something and Will and Marco would be there, ready for him, waiting to catch him with a load of poison to put in the river or into one of the valuable animals' feed. Marco was staked out at the river; Will would be waiting in the barn near the stable.

  The new dapple mare was a perfect match for Starlight. Their offspring would be prize-winners, he was sure. And, of course, one way a horse ranch got to be the best was to breed horses that conformed perfectly to the breed. If he could train them to be worthwhile working animals, his ranch would prosper.

  He pondered the possibilities as the day passed. The afternoon was hot, and the evening retained the heat. After supper, he explained his plan to Arthur and then sauntered casually toward the stable. The new horse was going to be too tempting a target. Casteneda would know that harming the mare would be a harsh wound for a city fellow like Mazie to take.

  But Will wasn't just any city guy. He was determined. There wasn't much that would keep him down for long.

  He was petting the new mare's nose, trying to look casual, when his phone rang. Slipping it out of his pocket, he noted that the caller ID said "private caller." Probably a telemarketer, but he didn't want to be fielding their calls over and over, so he answered it, prepared to say something resolute.

  "Will Mazie."

  "Hiya, Will. Harry Tatum here."

  Now that was a surprise. Why would Harry be calling him? "Tatum? How did you get this number?"

  "A little bird told me. But that's not important. What I have to tell you is."