She knew Landon was hurting for money. If she asked Clay to hire him to do odd jobs around his house, the arrangement could benefit everyone. But she knew Landon’s pride would never allow him to work for the man responsible for driving his parents’ business into the ground.
Where Angel saw Clay as her enemy for outbidding her on the stallion, Landon had tenfold reasons to dislike him.
“It was the only property available when I decided on this town to expand my operation.”
“Is it too late to change your mind and move on out of here?”
He leaned against the counter, a scowl marring his features. “Do you think it’s that easy? You don’t like me so I just uproot everything and move on to the next town?” Clay shook his head as if dealing with a foolish child. He was older than her, but not that much older that he could patronize her. “I’ve invested a small fortune on this project, and it seems just about everyone, including your beloved brothers, are supportive.”
“Well, they don’t know you like I do.” Angel knew she was pushing his buttons, but for some reason it was different with Clay. She enjoyed trying to rile him, test his boundaries. He was too cool and collected for his own good.
“You know I still haven’t discussed your rudeness with my secretary, and now you’re starting with me again.” He pushed away from the counter and sauntered over to her. She backed up against the refrigerator and held her breath. Clay was a big man, and when he lacked a smirk or nonchalant expression, he was intimidating. He’d be an excellent businessman, and apparently was—just a stern look from him was enough to make her lose her bravado. “I don’t know the lay of the land yet or where half my belongings are packed. But I do know where to find a length of pig string.”
What was that supposed to mean? Did he plan to bring her out here, tie her up, and have his way with her body? If so, why didn’t the fact shock or repulse her? Why did her Levi’s begin to chafe around her genitals as if the friction was suddenly obscene?
Chapter Nine
It was time to teach the firecracker a lesson she’d never forget. And high time he had some release. He had to watch her have her cherry popped by the disappearing cowboy, close to joining in himself. Then they were interrupted, leaving him painfully pent up. His hand just didn’t cut it when he had a vision of Angel locked in his head. Just thinking of her luscious curves got him hard within seconds. It certainly didn’t make for an easy day of work.
He stepped out of the room for a minute to retrieve the loop of pig string. As he casually walked back to the kitchen, he untangled the length and tested the strength with sharp tugs. Angel was watching his every move, probably doubting Clay was even capable of going through with his threats. Well, she didn’t know him very well. He’d done things that would shock her to the core, but all his partners had been willing. This cowgirl would fight him every step of the way, even if she wanted more. So he had to decipher her moods, her mannerisms, everything that could help him garner her true emotion, rather than whatever act she chose to use.
When he was right in front of Angel, he reached in his back pocket and slipped out his folding utility knife. It was a family heirloom, the handle made of ivory with his family name carved and burned into the stone. His father had given it to him when he turned eighteen, but he’d never expected to lose his old man only a few short years later, along with his mother. Clay wondered if he’d ever have a son of his own to pass down his legacy and the fine tool he held.
A car accident had left Clay and his one sister alone in the world, their parents snatched away by a teenage driver out street racing the back roads. He’d taken the new responsibility for his younger sister seriously, working like a dog to support his sibling both emotionally and financially. Winning along the rodeo circuit got them on their feet. Then he used some of his wins to start his own small business. It grew significantly over the next decade, until now, when he was opening his largest distribution center yet.
Kayla preferred city life and already felt claustrophobic in the sleepy town. But God knew he’d never allow her to move far away. He wouldn’t feel right if his little sister was beyond arm’s length, too far for him to help her if she needed it in a hurry.
“What do you plan on doing with that? Why am I even here?”
“Give me your hands,” he said, holding out one of his own.
“No.”
He spun her around with ease and brought her arms behind her like a cop to a criminal. “There. Was that so bad, darlin’?” He secured her wrists behind her back with the twine and held her against the refrigerator.
“You must be crazy.”
There was no fear in her voice, only goading. She liked being bossed around, craved it. Angel was the classic submissive who wore her big-girl pants to looked all puffed up. She needed a firm hand to keep her in line, teach her manners and discipline.
“Now we’re going to have a little fun while I teach you how to behave. If you’re a good girl, you’ll be rewarded. If you’re bad, you’ll get spanked just like last time.”
Just recalling her beautiful, rounded ass over his knee was enough to make his dick swell even larger.
“Let me go,” she said with little conviction. “Landon’s my boyfriend now.”
He chuckled. “Is he? Then where is this young lad who’s so devoted to you, Angel. If I remember correctly, he’s avoiding you like the plague.”
“Is not!” She wriggled her arms. He’d hit a soft spot in her armor plating. The little princess was afraid of rejection.
“I’m older than your lover boy, baby-doll. I know how to treat a woman.”
“By tying me up?”
He directed her to walk in front of him as he held her secured arm. “Up the stairs,” he said, his voice carrying the dominance he intended. He couldn’t take any sass from Angel, or she’d never stop running her mouth. She needed some tough love and hard fucking. He prodded open his bedroom door with his boot and closed it once they were inside. The room was mostly bare like the rest of the house—a bunch of garbage bags filled with clothes, boxes, and general disarray. His bed was king-sized with a heavy patchwork quilt for the chilly nights.
She looked so young with her flawless skin, flowing blonde hair, and lush lips. He had no business falling for a twenty-two-year-old woman, but it wasn’t always easy to control what his heart desired. Perhaps it was the nurturer in him, wanting to teach and protect her. Or the dominant streak in him craving to control her, make her his. Whatever it was, he was about to test all his theories.
Clay approached her and unbuttoned her jeans and then drew down the zipper. She wore blue panties today. “You have strong hips,” he said as he tugged the denim down her lower body. She didn’t fight him but also didn’t say a word. “They’ll be good for holding on to when I fuck you.” He hid his smile, so she wouldn’t know he was trying to rile her.
He gave her a little shove, and she toppled sideways onto the bed. After tugging off her boots and jeans, he eased her up into a sitting position. “If I cut you loose, will you behave while I get your shirt off?”
“No, I’ll never behave for you.”
“Good. That’s good, darlin’.” He had plans for Angel which included an old-fashioned hogtying if necessary. Clay drew out his knife and sliced through her binds. “Arms up.” She held her arms firmly to her sides like a stubborn child. He wrestled her for a minute, easily overpowering her. When he’d tugged the material off over her head, he used his palm to push her back onto the mattress. She was just wearing a little white sports bra and the blue bikini panties. The sight of her laying there, the vision of innocence was enough to make any young cowboy fall in love. Or a thirty-four-year-old one like him.
* * * *
Angel’s entire body tingled, butterfly wings fluttering in her womb. She loved Clay’s take-charge personality, his strength, his experience. He had a dominant vibe to him, and when he glared at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling, her pussy got even wetter. Now she w
as soaked through, probably enough to darken her panties. But she was too proud to admit to wanting him to keep going, to make her do things that would make other girls blush. Of course, resisting was half the fun. She loved fighting him so he’d fight back. It turned her on when he dominated, ordered, and took what he wanted whether she verbally agreed or not.
If Angel didn’t want to be here, she had no doubt she’d get out in one piece. Her brothers had taught her some wicked self-defense moves, and despite Clay’s large size, she’d be able to break free long enough to get out of the house. But Angel didn’t want to go anywhere. She still remembered the hungry look in Clay’s eyes when he watched Landon fucking her, taking her virginity. When his rough hand held her breast, she could barely contain the wanton energy building up inside her. If her brothers hadn’t heard Clay’s truck pull up, she had no doubt that she’d have ridden both cowboys that night.
She knew she was supposed to hate Clay and everything he stood for. Landon would probably feel betrayed that she slept with the enemy. But where was he now? Maybe Clay was right and he’d only sought her for the sex. It was difficult to believe with their history, but she also had no experience with the complexities of relationships.
“You can pretend to hate me, baby-doll, but your wet, little pussy tells me differently.” He grabbed the edge of her panties and tugged them down her legs, leaving a burning streak behind. She gasped, feeling so exposed on his big bed with him looking down on her. Angel held her knees tightly together, anticipation making her clit throb.
“Whatever.”
“Still with the smart mouth?” In a flash, he rolled her to her stomach and then smacked her bare ass so hard she yelped. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
She twisted back around and watched as he stripped off his shirt and loosened his belt. The clang of metal against metal was the most erotic sound she’d ever heard. “That’s a prize buckle,” she said. She remembered Landon mentioning something about Clay riding in the circuit.
“That’s right. I’ve paid my dues. Life hasn’t always been easy, but it seems I’m being blessed as of late.” He pulled the leather belt clean out of the loops and wound it around his hand like a bronc rider getting ready for the gates to open. “I don’t regret any of my experiences, good or bad.”
It was so hard to hate Clay, which was probably why she did. He had to be too good to be true. “Were you a good rider?” It eased her nerves to talk, but she knew she was only stalling the inevitable.
“The best. But you’ll find that out soon enough.” He slapped the end of the belt into his other palm while staring at her intently. She swallowed hard. Her daddy had given her the belt only a couple times when she was younger, but her brothers knew it well. She could only remember the pain and humiliation, but now Clay was bringing it back in a whole new light. Her body shivered, anxious to feel the sharp crack of leather on her ass. She’d always handled pain well, not a delicate flower like some other country girls. And this kind of pain, like Clay’s spanks, managed to arouse her more than sweet words ever could.
“Have you decided to sell me back my horse?”
He ignored her. “Open your legs.”
“What! I will not.” She pulled up her legs toward her chest, knees tightly together.
“Open them, or you’ll feel my belt.” He stood tall, waiting.
What did she want more? The crack of his belt or the thrill of exposing herself to him? Angel couldn’t decide which she wanted more, so chose to let him make the next move. She stuck up her chin in a display of defiance.
He moved faster than she’d expected, heaving her up to the center of the bed and prying open her thighs with one bent up knee and his strong arms. “Take off the bra,” he said just before dipping his head between her legs. She remembered how thrilling it had been when Landon went down on her, and she was reliving the excitement. His firm, hot tongue lapped at her pussy, long, languid strokes, over and over. He stopped briefly to repeat, “Bra off.”
This time she complied, afraid he’d stop what he was doing. She struggled to slip the bra over her head while he had her pelvis pinned to the mattress. He rewarded her compliance by suckling her clit in soft, rhythmic ways—an erotic lullaby that pulled her out of reality. The same heat she remembered from last week began to build up, curling her toes and burning her veins. As if he somehow sensed her impending orgasm, he pulled away, leaving her achy and needy. “Hey!”
He winked at her like he did at the horse auction, which only ignited her anger. It was cruel to leave her on the cusp and then abandon her. “Remember what I told you? I’m going to teach you control. You’re like a green broke filly—you’re learning, but far from experienced.”
“I don’t need to be taught, I need to be taken care of.”
“Of course that’ll happen, too, but not yet.” He began to pull something out from his closet. A full-length mirror, like the one she had tacked to the back of her bedroom door at home. What was he up to? He set the mirror against the dresser, only a few feet from the bed. Then he got a tube of something from his nightstand and returned to her. He sat on the edge of the bed facing the mirror, his zipper undone and the band of his boxer briefs showing. The man had chiseled abs with a dark trail of hair leading from his navel and disappearing into his boxers. “Come here,” he said.
She crawled toward him. When she saw her dangling breasts in the mirror, she immediately sat on her knees and cupped her breasts. He was grinning at her from the reflection, his dark, sexy eyes undoing her.
“I don’t want to look at myself.”
“You may act like a spoiled princess, but you’re insecure and inexperienced. I’m going to change all that.” He patted the section of mattress between his legs. “Come sit here.” She was curious. Angel slipped off the bed and sat where he’d told her, now directly in front of the mirror. She felt like a dirty little slut, the nest of blonde curls between her legs and full breasts on display. Clay was bare-chested but still in his blue jeans.
“I don’t like this,” she said. She would much rather be on the bed with his head between her legs, or even his cock.
“You will. I want to teach you something new.” He hooked a hand under each of her knees and pulled back, spreading her legs wide for the mirror. She struggled to close them, but he was determined and kept them apart. “Look at yourself. All pink and glistening. You’re beautiful. Your cunt is beautiful.”
“I feel stupid,” she admitted.
He hooked her feet on the outer sides of his thighs, so she was fully exposed on the edge of the mattress. “Hush.” His arms snaked around her, and he used two fingers to open her pussy lips. “Nice and tight. Perfect. But I’ll admit, there’s something special about being the man to take a woman’s virginity.”
“You know I’m not. Not anymore.”
“No, you still are, darlin’.” He trailed one finger lower. She could see his every movement in the mirror—where his finger touched, her own anatomy, and the reaction on his face. He stroked her anus with a featherlight touch, igniting a fire in her nerve endings. She tried to break free, but he cooed in her ear and continued to touch her tight little rosette. “Does that feel good? Don’t lie to me now.”
It felt fucking amazing, but she didn’t want to admit it. She also didn’t want to outright lie when he asked her not to. She nodded.
“I thought as much. Now you behave and stay put while I try something new with you.” He reached to his side and picked up the container. It was lubricant. He coated two fingers with the clear, sticky substance and returned his hands between her legs, watching his actions in the mirror. “Now, I know Landon didn’t fuck your ass last week. So it’s all mine.” He poked her little hole with one of the moist fingers and pushed in. She watched the tip of his finger disappear into her ass. It was oddly erotic, and she couldn’t look away. Clay’s cock was like an iron rod pressed to her lower back, confirming he loved the show taking place.
He stretched her anus with
a second finger, the lube oozing around his digits as he forced them inside her. When he was knuckle deep in her ass, the slight burn and pressure peaked. He kissed her neck and sucked her earlobe, not moving his fingers. The stimulation to her erogenous zone aided in easing the discomfort and stimulating new, untapped desires. The visual of her spread wide in such a forbidden display encouraged a trickle of her own juices to flow down from her pussy to Clay’s hand.
“Wider, darlin’.” She’d always been very limber, so she did as he asked. When he had more space, he used the hand coming around from the opposite side of her body to toy with her clit. “Ain’t that the loveliest vision I’ve ever seen.” He rubbed deep circles with his one hand and then slow thrust in and out of her ass with his fingers. There was no pain left, but she was hypersensitive, close to exploding once again.
“I like it,” she admitted, never wanting the sweet torture to end.
“Good girl. This is only the beginning. I want you to see what I’m doing, see where I plan to put my cock.” He slipped his fingers out with a gentle motion and then held her by the hips. “Hold yourself up for a minute, sweet thing.” She supported her weight by the heels of her feet and hands as he unzipped his Wranglers. Her pussy was thrust up, giving her a clear view of everything. She was swollen and dark pink, juices flowing from every orifice.
She could see him release his erection from the gap between them. He was huge, hung like a fucking horse and rock hard from arousal. He coated his cock with a ton of lube and then supported her weight with both his hands. “Surely you don’t plan on putting that thing in me.”
Espino, Stacey - Hogtying the Cowgirl [Ride 'em Hard 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 7
