by BJ Wane
“Good girl. You’re not new to spanking, are you?”
Kurt punctuated his inquiry with a harder swat that drew a gasp from Leslie and prompted her into lifting for another. His low chuckle reverberated down her spine as he caressed her butt. “That’s a good enough answer.” He nipped the tender spot between her neck and shoulder, the prick of pain and his next command curling her toes. “Spread your legs. Wider,” he growled when she didn’t go far enough.
Cool air brushed over the delicate flesh of her bare labia as she spread her legs the width of the double bed. Keeping up with stretches and a few dance moves from her years of ballet lessons had kept her flexible, which had come in handy when she’d started exploring the BDSM lifestyle as a means of escape from the upheaval of her entire life.
“I like the way you obey without question.” He stroked one hand down the inside of her thigh, the scrape of his rough callouses along her soft skin eliciting another groan and twitch of her buttocks.
“I like the way you touch me,” she returned in a low voice, the darkness lending her courage to speak her mind, something she’d never done at the club. When there, she preferred remaining a willing but unassuming player so as not to call attention to herself or unintentionally invite an expansion on a Dom/sub relationship or any of her friendships. What would be the point of bonding with others when she knew getting close to her could turn toxic without warning? After the police had deflected two attempts on her life before stripping her of her real identity and everything else she’d ever known, she didn’t doubt Edwin Glascott’s threat against her, or the risk to others after her dear neighbor was injured when visiting her.
“It appears we’re a good match then.” She stiffened and he rolled on top of her, pinning her to the mattress with over six feet of rippling muscles, his heavy erection coming to rest between her buttocks as his large sac bounced against her pussy. “Don’t worry. I’m well aware this is an irresponsible, one-time fuck. And when I say irresponsible, I’m talking about both of us. Remember, don’t let go, say red if you want to end this.”
Leslie didn’t reply, couldn’t answer as he kissed, licked and nipped his way down her back until he reached her butt. Once there, he snagged her breath as he cupped her cheeks, holding them propped up for his devious mouth. The brush of soft lips drew more goosebumps; slow, wet tongue strokes produced heat and dampness inside her quivering pussy; pin-pricking bites of discomfort sent a rush of hot pleasure spiraling through her veins. The chill from losing her cover warmed and her tense muscles grew lax. The attention to her backside was new and exciting, transporting her to an altogether new plane where nothing existed, nothing mattered but the slow-building euphoria spreading outward from her buttocks.
A cry spilled from her throat as Kurt released one cheek, cupped that hand between her legs and pressed hard. “You’re so fucking responsive. I like that, too. Wet and soft. What more could I ask for or need?”
“I need more,” Leslie rushed to say.
“Mmm, not yet. I’m not done playing.” He inched a broad thumb between her cheeks and pressed against the puckered rim of her anus.
She squirmed against the pressure against both areas, and the harder he pressed the more she shifted under him. As she started to close the gap in her legs to aid in holding him there, a stab of vicious pain from a tight pinch lanced one tender fold. “Crap!” She tried to spring up, to get away from the throbbing ache, but he gripped her thigh with a dark warning.
“Give me your safeword or be still. If you release your hands, I’ll walk out now.”
She shook, inhaled and slowly repositioned her legs outward. “No, I don’t want to safeword out. Please. You just took me by surprise. No one’s ever…”
“Good. I like knowing I can give you a new experience.”
A shudder went through her body as he worked two fingers inside her pussy, stretching unused muscles and stroking over neglected nerve endings until Leslie spasmed with a gush of responsive cream.
“Nice.” Kurt shifted up to whisper in her ear. “Now, let’s work together to make it even nicer.”
His voice seeped inside Leslie, the dark room enhancing the deep rumble. Then he leaned back, grabbed her hips, pulled her to her knees and grasped her right hand off the rail above her. He didn’t give her time to think about the odd position of holding one arm above her in a tight grip with her face and chest flat and hips levered as he drew her hand down between her legs, his next command heating her blood to the boiling point.
“Use one finger on your clit while I continue exploring. You have a nice tight pussy, and I want to feel you squeezing my cock again in a minute.”
Twisting her head, Leslie could barely make out his shape kneeling behind her as he guided her middle finger between her folds along with his. “This is…” Embarrassing, Exciting. Disturbing. Arousing. She rasped her swollen clit, the brush of his finger alongside hers conjuring up all of those emotions. He thrust and stroked as she twirled around the bundle of sensitive tissues.
“This is what? New?” Kurt brushed over her clit with her. “Exciting? Because it is for me. Keep going.”
She bit her lip as he pulled out of her just when her sheath convulsed in small spasms, the clutches heralding a climax his withdrawal put on hold. Groaning in frustration, she plucked at her clit, struggling to hold back until he joined her again.
“Good girl.” Gripping her wrist, he pulled her hand back and pushed through her slick folds to take its place. She sighed as he stretched and filled her with one deep thrust then gasped as he instructed, “Press your clit against my cock as I fuck you. Like this.” Wrapping one hand around her hip, he held her still, rooted out her clit and pressed it against his thick erection as he pumped inside her. “Now, you take over.”
Leslie thought there wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen or tried in the three years she’d enjoyed exploring alternative sex, but she’d thought wrong. Sparks shot from her nub straight up her core as he pummeled her depths with deeper, harder plunges, the tight press of those sensitive tissues against his rigid hardness unlike anything she’d experienced before. The warmth of his flesh seeped through the condom, his steely length almost painful as he rasped back and forth, abrading her clit. Tremors erupted deep inside her as his cock jerked, the onset of her orgasm bathing his shaft with a slick gush. Her muscles squeezed in uncontrollable spasms as she rode out the pleasure with as much force as he rammed into her with his own climax.
Their heavy breathing resonated in the room, her soft cries mingling with his guttural grunts and low curses. Leslie basked in the mindless ecstasy, the rough possession and the temporary escape she’d needed from her loneliness.
The water started to cool, pulling Leslie out of her daydream of that night. Maybe returning to the club tonight was what she needed to put Kurt and her only one-night stand behind her. Would spending a few hours seeking another temporary relief from her loneliness be worth the face-to-face reminders of what she would never have? She honestly didn’t begrudge her friends’ newfound happiness, and she had to move on some time, needed to come to terms with her fate regardless of the pain. Unless Edwin Glascott and his sons either all keeled over or had a change of heart concerning her part in putting Jason and Jake behind bars for the next forty years, she was stuck living without a commitment to either friendships or a relationship.
Cursing the family who thought their wealth meant they could do as they pleased without consequences, she decided the only way to put one unforgettable night behind her was to replace it with something just as intense, just as pleasurable.
By the time Leslie turned off the highway onto the narrow, tree-lined dirt road that led to the club later that night, those pesky doubts were starting to intrude again. For almost three years she’d looked forward to the weekends and the hours she would spend at the converted barn. But as she reached the gravel parking area in front of the two-story structure nestled in a wide copse, she spotted the Dunbars walking in togeth
er. Parking behind two rows of other vehicles, she watched Cade sling an arm around Sydney and pull her close as he opened one of the double-wide doors. Even from several feet away, sitting in the dimly lit lot, Leslie could make out the redhead’s smile. Connor and Tamara followed them, Connor’s laugh sifting through her open window. The swat he delivered on his wife’s butt must have been in playful retaliation for whatever she’d said since it drew a giggle from Tamara instead of a painful gasp.
No matter how often she played with a Dom, or how much pleasure she reaped from a scene, she would never enjoy the fruits of a close bond, one that made such moments so spontaneous and fun. As she changed her mind and pulled back out, Leslie vowed to come to terms with her life as it was now. With her thirty-fifth birthday coming up in November, the time for wishing she could change the past was long over. There must be a way to reconcile with her fate without being so petty as to stay away from people she’d come to like just because their circumstances had changed for the better. She would work hard at finding it and then come back, when she was sure she could do so without envying others.
Nan slid out of Dan’s truck and turned to watch the small Mazda exit the parking lot. Frowning, she glanced from the taillights to her fiancé. “Wasn’t that Leslie?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t get a good look. Why?” Clasping her elbow, he steered her toward the doors.
“I’m pretty sure it was.” Puzzlement and worry tightened her muscles. “She hasn’t shown up here for several weeks, and now she’s leaving without coming in. I wonder what’s going on with her.”
Dan’s lips quirked as he gazed down at her with warm dark brown eyes. No matter how he looked at her, she never failed to respond with a rush of pleasure. After all the Doms she’d enjoyed playing with the past five years, he was the only one who still did it for her in every way, on every level.
“I’m sure if she wants to confide in anyone here, she will.”
“Maybe. She’s always kept from getting too close to anyone, too involved with any of us girls, or you Doms. It might be time for a shopping trip to Billings.” Entering the club’s playroom from the foyer, a familiar thrill shot through her as the sounds and scenes of the kinks she got off on resonated around the cavernous space. Nodding toward a table close to the bar in the center of the lower level, she said, “There’s Sydney and Tamara. Do you mind if I join them for a few minutes, Sir?” Falling into submissive mode here at The Barn always came easily despite her natural, independent nature when away from the sex-charged atmosphere.
“Go ahead.” Dan nudged her forward with a hand on her butt. “Meet me at the bar in fifteen minutes.”
As Nan watched him stroll across the room, his tall, broad shouldered, slim-hipped frame and tight buttocks showcased in snug denim made her itch to call him back and get started on scratching. But first, she intended to enlist help tracking down Leslie, and her reason for staying away. It wasn’t that long ago she’d learned the hard way that keeping her distance from those who cared about her wasn’t the best way to work through a difficult time. She and Leslie weren’t close, not like she was with her best friend, Tamara, and now Sydney and Avery. But she still didn’t want her to make the same mistake Nan had months ago.
“Oh, we have got to go shopping again. I want something like that.” Sydney eyed Nan’s latex, thigh-high stockings that showcased her long legs below her matching leather thong and corset set with envy.
Sliding into a chair, Nan crossed her legs with a smirk. “Caden would swallow his tongue. I’ll show you where you can get something similar. In fact, that’ll fall right in with what I want to run by you two, and Avery when she gets here. I think I just saw Leslie leaving. Did she even come in?”
Tamara shook her head. “She wasn’t inside when we got here about ten minutes ago. It’s still early and no one has ventured upstairs yet, so we likely would have seen her. I wonder what’s going on with her.” Concern clouded her gray eyes.
“Yeah, me too. So, intervention time?” Nan asked both of them.
Sydney shrugged and sent a sly glance toward Tamara. “Why not? We butted in with Tam. May as well nag Leslie about whatever has kept her away.”
Nan flipped Tamara a grin and then said, “I can do Wednesday since I close early. I know she teaches, so we can shop first then pick up something to eat and show up at her place. One of you will have to get her address from the club’s membership form.”
“No warning ahead of time? I like that but she may not,” Sydney warned. “You’ve known her the longest, Nan.”
“And yet I don’t know much about her, and we’ve never socialized outside of here. I’m not sure if she’s ever even come into Willow Springs.”
“We should have extended an invitation sooner. I only know her well enough to say hi, and now I feel bad about that,” Tamara said.
“Don’t. She’s shied away from getting close for a reason. If she doesn’t want that to change, we’ll respect her wishes, but it won’t hurt to extend an offer of friendship that includes sympathetic ears if she wants to talk. In the meantime, who the hell are those two?” Nan pointed toward two newcomers settling on stools at the bar, both men well over six foot. The one with coal black hair and matching eyes was just as panty-melting as his friend who wore his wavy, salt and pepper hair long enough to tie back like Connor did, his matching goatee framing a sexy mouth.
Tamara feigned a lustful sigh. “That’s Master Mitchell on the right with the long hair I’d love to tug out of that leather band. He’s the new doctor in town and I get to ogle him at work.”
Nan placed her hand over her heart. “I do believe I’ve put off getting a pap smear for way too long.”
Sydney almost spilled her drink on a choked laugh. “You moron. I’m drooling over Master Kurt. Caden said he went to school with him but he moved to Texas years ago. He’s just returned to take over running the family spread for his ailing father. According to hubby, the Wilcox family can trace their roots in Montana back decades and they’re listed in the top ten of wealthiest families in the state.”
Nan raised a slim brow at that information and then spotted Dan coming toward her. “Uh, oh. I think Master Dan caught me staring.” Pushing to her feet, her pulse skipped a beat and her nipples peaked as he frowned at her. “Gotta go. Let’s meet at the tea shop around two on Wednesday.”
Watching her hightail it over to her fiancé, Tamara giggled. “She’s still the only one I know who looks forward to a punishment.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. We may not like them as intense as she does, but you can get into a long session over Connor’s knees just like I can with Caden,” Sydney pointed out.
“Yeah, you’re right. And now that you’ve planted that in my head, it’s time to join Connor upstairs. Catch you later.”
Chapter 4
Kurt hefted the saddle onto Atlas’ back, eager to get started on the day’s chores. Damn but it felt good working outdoors again, riding every day and settling in to managing the ranch again. Even dealing with his father’s surly attitude the last few mornings hadn’t dimmed his enthusiasm for the long hours of physical labor. He understood Leland was dealing with a lot of changes in his life, both physical and mental. It would be difficult for anyone who was used to a physically active life to lose so much ability. What he didn’t understand was his obstinance when it came to doing the physical therapy that would help him regain some of that strength back.
“Stubborn old man,” he muttered under his breath as he tightened the cinch strap, ensuring his saddle wouldn’t slip. The sun already shone bright enough to warm his back and shoulders as he led the stallion out of the stables and waved to the group of hired hands mounting up for fence repairs. Usually by early September, they would start noticing cooler temperatures, but this year it looked like they were in for a few unseasonably warm weeks nobody was complaining about.
“Are you referring to your father?” Roy asked with a grin, overhearing him as he rode up.
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“Who else? I left him arguing with Cory about going into Willow Springs for therapy instead of having the therapist come out here. It would do him good to get out.” Kurt swung up into the saddle and nudged his hat down to shield his eyes from the bright glare as they rode out side-by-side.
Roy nodded. “I agree. When he’s ready, I’ll help get him up into a saddle again, go along on a ride if you want. That might be enough incentive to spur him along.”
“I’ve already mentioned it, and he seemed pleased with the idea. But when I brought up changing his therapy sessions to the clinic on Monday, he bit my head off and has refused to discuss Cory driving him in for two days now.” As they rode past the family burial plot, he shifted his gaze toward the headstones and fresh flowers adding color to the drab gray slabs.
“The anniversary of Brittany’s death is coming up next month. Leland is always at his worst in the fall,” Roy reminded him.
“Yeah, I remember.” That was one of the reasons Kurt had waited to make his annual trip back home until the end of each year. It didn’t surprise him to hear Leland’s grief and anger hadn’t eased during the years he’d lived in Houston. Any day now, Kurt expected his dad to throw her death in his face, blame him once again for not controlling his sister’s behavior. Not once had his father given him credit for getting Brittany into counseling, for cutting off her allowance in the hopes that would curtail her efforts to buy alcohol and drugs, or for sending the cops after her when she’d resorted to stealing from the family safe, which had resulted in mandatory rehab. “Let’s ride. I need to clear my mind of what’s waiting for me at the end of the day.”
Along with riding the fence line looking to repair downed sections, Kurt and the cowpokes mingled with the herds, interacting with the cattle in a calm fashion to keep their stress level down. Like with people, stress could render beef cattle more susceptible to disease. From what he had observed since returning, he estimated close to a thousand head were nearing the ideal weight of between one thousand and twelve hundred pounds and were old enough to take to market and sold for the highest dollar. But the Wilcox family had always juggled several businesses, including horse breeding and oil, not to mention the investments of their capital. All of which fell to him to stay on top of. While he enjoyed managing the business side of his family’s wealth, nothing beat spending a few hours riding the wide-open spaces with the view of pine-covered mountains rising up into the clear blue sky, stopping along the way to mend downed fences and check their security system. Not all of their land was fenced in, but at least two-thirds was.
