by Reece Butler
Perfect.
Jet forced Lila onto the bed, on her stomach with her arms above her head. He had to lie on her to hold her down. He looped a quick clove hitch with the soft belt and slid it over her wrists. It forced her hands together.
He lashed the belt to the footboard, sat on the bed, and hauled her over his lap. Her arms, tied to his right, were loose enough that she could jerk them to bend her elbows, but not damage anyone. He could use a few things from his toybag, but he didn’t want to ruin the flow of the scene.
She continued to snarl and kick. He tossed the bedcovers over her legs and tucked them under, further restricting her movements. He moved her braid out of the way and pulled the loose hairs away from her eyes and mouth. She glared up at him.
“Let me go!” she demanded.
“That was very naughty of you to run,” he said mildly. “Naughty girls get spanked. Hard. What you had before was nothing like this.”
“Don’t you dare!”
Her long back curved when she squirmed. Her hips moved erotically, making her ass cheeks tighten and flex. In some ways, they resembled bongo drums. They’d be played the same way, with his fingers and palms. Instead of replying to her comment in words, he used action to get his point across.
She shrieked. A pink image of his handprint appeared on her right butt cheek. Another shriek marked the application of its twin on the left. She fought, twisting under him. He would not give her many, just enough so she knew he was serious. She would also, he hoped, feel what happened when the pain changed into pleasure. He took his time, ignoring her curses, some of which were colorful, yet acceptable, as they were not swear words. He was almost finished when she lost it.
“You bastard!”
A shaft of anger sliced through his calm. “Do not use that word!”
The smack was the loudest yet. It hurt his hand, and it hurt her ass. She screeched even louder, proving it. She might not believe it, but he’d restrained himself.
“I’m sorry,” she cried out, wiggling her pussy. “It hurts!”
“It’s supposed to. You ran from me. That is not allowed. The result is a discipline spanking, which I had finished when you used a word that has no business coming out of your mouth. Do you understand?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
He spanked her again, at the discipline level. Since it landed on sore flesh, he knew it still stung. Yet her scent, and his wet thighs, proved she wanted this.
“The correct answer is ‘yes, Sir!’”
“Yes, Sir!”
Jet pulled the loop to release her belt from the footboard. She pulled her arms into her chest, wrists still tied. He unwrapped her legs, gathered her up, and stood. He turned and tossed her on the bed, face down. She tried to escape but couldn’t with her wrists together. He held her down, his knee on her lower back, while he applied the condom. She continued to struggle. He grasped her braid and wrapped it around his fist. He tugged, just hard enough so she had to lift her head.
If rough sex was what she wanted today, he would deliver the goods. He’d use her in the crudest sense of the word, ignoring her clit, her breasts, and the small brown hole that he’d soon be training to take his cock, and Houston’s, if she agreed.
“What are you doing?” she yelled.
“Showing you what happens to women who run,” he snarled.
Chapter 20
Lila fought with every muscle in her body, but Jet was too strong for her. It was marvelous to wrestle, to scream and yell and fight!
It had been years since she’d had physical contact beyond a friendly hug. The cousins had refused to wrestle with her once she got breasts. Jet didn’t hold back. He didn’t treat her like a girl, being so careful not to injure her that all the fun was gone. No, he fought like he meant it, so she did the same. She would have laughed if she’d had the breath for it.
His knee, combined with an extra twenty or more pounds of muscle, held her down. He tugged on her braid, forcing her head up. Individual hairs created tiny pinpoints of pain. It merged into her overwhelming lust. Her blood pounded as she strained, kicking and squirming. She dug her elbows into the mattress in an attempt to pull herself out from under him. Her butt had hurt like the devil when he finished spanking her, but now the sensation had changed into something far more enjoyable.
She slowed for a moment to catch her breath.
Jet released her hair. He grabbed her hips and lifted. She squawked as her face hit the sheet. He hauled her across the bed until her knees caught at the edge of the mattress. He set them wide.
“Don’t move,” he ordered, and released her.
Oh, no, not more spankings.
She tensed, ready to fight. The blunt tip of his cock probed into her pussy. What would he do if she pushed back against him? Before she got up her nerve he gripped her hips and filled her to the hilt in one deep thrust.
She grunted, loving the power, the control, and the fullness.
Oh yes, she wanted this!
He pulled back and once more took her hard and deep, demanding her flesh comply with his wishes. His balls tapped against her vulva as he rocked slightly.
“This what you want? To be taken hard?”
“Yes, Sir!”
“Good, because that’s what you’re going to get!”
Once more he slammed deep. She gripped his cock as he took his pleasure, providing her with the same. It was primal, almost brutal, and exactly what she wanted. He was claiming her, just like in her books.
She loved the sloppy sound as their flesh slapped and their deep grunts as he hit home. She’d been so aroused by a day of working with them, yet unable to touch with her parents nearby. Jet’s challenge, the chase, and the fight had her wet and throbbing. She tried to move her bound hands to touch her clit but her breasts were in the way.
He pulled back and stopped. She waited, but he didn’t move. She clenched his cock with her muscles in a silent demand. He hissed, then leaned over her back. He nipped the side of her neck. The sharp pain grabbed her attention.
“You want to come, Lila?”
The way he spoke, she could almost see the smirk on his face.
“Ya think?” His hand smacked the side of her bottom. She jerked, though he hadn’t hit hard. “I mean, yes, Sir!”
He grasped her hair at the nape of her neck and yanked. “Do you deserve to come?”
“Yes, Sir!”
“Why?”
“I’ve gone without for too darn long and need to make up for it!”
He yanked harder. “Curb your language. You will learn to behave like my lady should.”
She snorted, then coughed. “You want me to act like a lady, and you’re doing this to me?”
“I said, my lady. She submits to whatever I want, whether it’s serving me breakfast, or bending over and taking my cock.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said, rather than saying what she thought and getting spanked again.
“My lady does not swear. She does, however, love to be used by her men.”
He whispered the last word in her ear. It made her quiver. She gripped him, hoping it would make him move his cock. She needed friction!
He ran his fingers between her pussy lips. She inhaled, hoping, but he didn’t touch her clit. He scraped lightly along her perineum, then pressed against her anus. She held her breath. He toyed with her, and then breached her. A billion nerve endings sang out in joy.
“Oh!”
“Oh, indeed,” he murmured.
He twisted his finger, barely inside her. She wanted more. No one knew about her collection of butt plugs, purchased on her rare trips to Missoula. They were hidden far better than her nail polish and girly girl magazines. She tried to wiggle to encourage him to go deeper, but his palm lay on her back.
“You’ve had my cock in your pussy. Soon you’ll have it in your mouth and your ass.” He spoke in her ear as he skimmed his hand over her. She shivered at the extra sensation. “If you’re a very good girl, you’ll get tw
o cocks in you at once.”
All the breath left her body. His fingers slid between her skin and the mattress, finding her nipple. He squeezed it, sending a jolt to her clit. She clamped down on his cock again. He laughed.
“I can see you in one of those swings, blindfolded and tied so you can’t do anything but feel. None of this squirming and pushing. You will have no control while four hands touch and squeeze and pinch you. Two mouths will nibble and suck and bite until you come again and again. And then two hard cocks will fill you, front and back, until you scream your final release.”
Oh God, she wanted that!
She squirmed, every inch of her skin throbbing with need. She was so close to coming she wanted to scream in frustration!
He began moving his hips slowly in and out, tantalizing her by keeping his finger moving, breaching her ass with the same rhythm of his cock. She almost sobbed when he finally reached her clit with his free hand.
“Come for me,” he demanded as he skewered her deeper and pinched her clit.
The sensation sent her over as his words registered. White light exploded in her brain. He grabbed her hips with both hands and pounded into her, slamming her thighs against his as her pussy spasmed. Her breasts rasped against the sheet with each thrust. Nothing existed but her body, taken by his. Her orgasm went on and on as he bucked behind her. Finally, he triumphantly roared his possession.
She was still quivering when he put his arm around her chest, pulled her tight, and rolled both of them onto their sides. A moment, and her hands were free of the soft belt. She lay there, unable to move or even think. He smoothed the hair off her face.
“Is that what you wanted?” he whispered in her ear, then bit the lobe.
“It was more than I ever expected,” she replied in bursts between breaths.
“Good girl. Sleep while I hold you.”
Chapter 21
Houston’s right arm was dead. He couldn’t be in Jet’s truck since he was naked and warm. The warmest part was his front. He opened his eyes. A blonde head rested on the pillow in front of him.
Lila snuggled into him.
Beyond her he could see Jet. Lila had been out cold when Houston came to bed. Jet said they’d had quite the conquering session. He was, as usual since his injury, overtired, so he’d cuddled up on Lila’s other side and fallen asleep.
A half smile curled up the right side his lips. He’d never slept with a woman before Lila. He’d certainly never woken with one in his arms. Feeling Lila naked in front of him made him harder than a titanium wrench. It wasn’t pure lust. It was…Contentment? He immediately shoved the thought away.
Light came in around the curtain, which meant it was morning. And that meant chores. That was nothing new. Knowing he had choices made all the difference in the world.
He slipped out of bed, carefully covering Lila again. Jet didn’t move. Houston used the bathroom across the hall so they could sleep, then dressed. Someone had prepared the coffee pot, so he flicked the switch as he passed through the kitchen on the way to the barn, Rascal on his heels. He hadn’t done ranch chores for almost half his life, but it was something you never forgot.
Jet had told him about Lila’s first acceptance of submission. Even if she fully submitted it did not mean Jet become her boss. This was her ranch, and she’d hired them to do a job. Jet would not take away her authority. Not in ranch work. What happened between the three of them was a whole different matter.
Houston was all for it. He was naturally dominant, just not as much as Jet. He liked to enjoy a women, teasing her, making her horny for hours, and then giving her more orgasms than she could handle. Orgasm torture was an oxymoron, one he enjoyed providing.
His cock reacted eagerly to the idea. No wonder, as he’d gone without for so long. Having Lila around kept him in a constant state of readiness. He turned his attention away from what he couldn’t have until tonight, and gave Rascal a scratch. He enjoyed the dog’s company. If he’d been allowed a pet growing up, he wouldn’t have felt so alone. But animals, other than his mother’s white poodle, a creature with a brain the size of a hazelnut, were not allowed.
Rascal found a patch of sun in the barn and settled in for a while. Houston saw a flash of movement in the corner. He stopped, waiting to see what it was. The face of an orange tabby emerged from the shadows, ears and whiskers twitching. She looked around for a while, and then moved forward. Five assorted kittens scampered after her. She led them to Rascal. The kittens immediately began climbing on him, mewing. He lifted his head at Houston with a long-suffering look of disgust. Houston burst out in a laugh, which scared the kittens for a few seconds. When Rascal put his head back down with a sigh, they returned. The same thing happened when Jet entered the barn and grabbed a shovel.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” he demanded.
“I wanted time alone to bond with Rascal’s kittens.”
Jet straightened up. “What?”
Houston put a finger to his lips, then pointed. Mama cat came back with a mouse. She dangled it at her kittens, then trotted back to her lair, followed by hungry felines. Rascal stood up, shook himself out, then came over for a dog-and-man scratch.
Jet showed him how to give bottles to the lambs and calf. Jet did the calf, since his balance wasn’t as good without his cane and Jet said the calf liked to head butt. He enjoyed the work, so different from his usual. He was giving Rascal a double-handed rub when the dog turned his head to the side.
Lila hurried across the yard, a mug in each hand. She rushed in, her shirt buttoned wrong, her coat undone.
“You guys should have woken me up!”
“We’re hired hands,” Jet replied, meeting her eyes. “It’s our job to do the morning chores. You’re the boss, and we’re the ranch workhorses.” He paused, then gave her the look that submissives told Houston got them thoroughly wet. Lila’s eyes widened. She licked her lips. “Things will be different when it’s dark.”
“Different?” She almost squeaked the word.
“That’s when workhorses turn into stallions,” said Houston, waggling his eyebrows.
“If you want more of what happened last night,” said Jet, “you will choose to submit to me. We’ll talk later.”
“Oh.”
Jet gave a brisk nod. “If it fits your schedule, we could ride the fences while you explain what you need done this month.”
Lila tilted her head to think, chewed on her lip for a moment, and then abruptly nodded.
“I always have lunch with my grandparents on Saturdays. But we can ride beforehand. Thanks for making the coffee,” she added.
“Houston was up first,” said Jet.
“It wasn’t me. All I did was turn it on. Maybe your mom did it before she left.”
“Mom? Make coffee?” Lila rolled her eyes. “You do not want to drink my mother’s coffee. I guess Papa made it. He’s thoughtful that way.” She blinked rapidly and turned away. She left the mugs on the shelf for them and returned to the house.
His stomach, teased by the scent of coffee, complained. They drank as they worked. Lila was nowhere to be seen when they finished, so they headed for the kitchen. Her parents had stashed lots of leftovers in the fridge. Houston planned to have some of Marci’s buttermilk fried chicken for breakfast. Lila met them in the passageway between outside and in.
“Good timing. Take this,” she said to Jet. She handed him filled saddlebags. “We’ll eat along the way.” She tilted her head and gave him an assessing, challenging smirk. “That is, if you can ride a horse.”
“We can both ride anything you want,” said Houston. “Tractor, truck, four-wheeler, horse, woman.” He let his eyes trail down her body. “It’s my turn to ride you tonight.”
An answering heat flashed over her before she pushed past. “Promises, promises,” she taunted.
Jet caught up to her in three steps. He grabbed a belt loop with his finger. “Don’t tease the tiger,” he murmured in her ear. “I’ve got claws, and teeth,
and a hard cock.”
So did Houston, but he’d let Jet take the lead for now. Lila’s skin flushed bright pink in an instant but she met Jet head on.
“I’d suggest you get rid of the cock or you’ll be very sore, Mr. Quartermain.”
* * * *
Jet stood up, slowly, and stretched out his thighs. The only CDs he’d found were country music, so George Strait and Toby Keith kept him company. He put his hands on his hips and leaned back, forward, and then twisted around. After two hours riding a giant beast of a horse, he’d spent half an hour bent over one of the ranch trucks helping Houston. He allowed himself a loud groan. They’d done more riding than he’d expected. Lila might have been testing him, or was unaware of what happened to someone who hadn’t ridden in a decade or more. He stretched out his arms and then put them behind his head and pressed his elbows back to stretch his chest.
Sudden silence had his ears ringing. Had the power gone out? He started to turn.
“Don’t move!”
He froze. Was it the sheriff, or some of Lila’s relatives?
“It’s Tom White, with Josh Gibson. We’ve come for a chat.”
Relief at his attackers identifying themselves warred with concern over why they’d come.
“Lila’s visiting her grandparents.”
Houston had gone upstairs at Lila’s insistence for a nap. He’d groused about it but she’d bluntly told him he’d sleep alone tonight otherwise.
“That’s why we’re here. Put your hands down and turn around.”
Jet moved slowly and carefully. Gibson wasn’t wearing his uniform, and his hands were empty. Tom White was also in jeans.
“This a social call?” asked Jet. He’d had lots of practice keeping the anger out of his voice.
“You could say that,” said Josh, nodding agreeably. “Did Marci send over any of her lemon bread?”
