Gideon, Robin - Desire of the Phantom [Ecstasy in the Old West] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Robin Gideon

  Silently, they made their way to the tethered horses, and once Garrett was certain that nobody would see the flames, he put a match to the ledger.

  “This is going to make a lot of people happy,” he said as he watched the flames devouring the pages, destroying the records of ruinous debt. “Now all we have to do is get word out that this has happened and make sure nobody confesses to what is really owed. Then there won’t be any way in the world Jonathon Darwell can prove in court these people owe him anything.”

  Garrett took his mask off and looked at Pamela. “Have you any idea how proud I am of you? I’d never have thought of this. I was so damned blind I didn’t even know Jonathon Darwell had this scheme going.”

  Pamela took off her own mask, untying it and folding it to tuck it into the back pocket of her Levi’s for later use. “It isn’t that you were blind,” she explained softly, tenderly, able to feel Garrett’s discomfort and sense of inadequacy, even if she didn’t agree with it. “Your money just isolates you from this kind of madness, that’s all. You shouldn’t hold yourself accountable.”

  “But you knew what was happening,” Garrett replied, his ravaged soul only partially assuaged by Pamela’s words.

  “I’m not a rich woman.”

  For several seconds they knelt there, looking into each other’s eyes. The differences in their social stations hung in the air around them.

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever understand you,” Garrett said quietly.

  Pamela smiled broadly then. “Then don’t even try, my darling. You’ll never understand me in a thousand years.”

  She bolted to her feet then and leaped into the saddle. “Come on, I’ll race you home.”

  He cast aside his personal demons in an instant.

  “What does the winner get?” he asked.

  “Me, and any way you want me,” Pamela replied without a moment’s hesitation. She put her boots to the mare’s ribs and, at a full gallop, headed for her ranch, where she could once again feast her senses on the excitement and stimulation Garrett Randolph was so willing to dispense.

  Chapter Nineteen

  She had been laughing most of the way home as they galloped through the night. The sound of her laughter and the brightness in her eyes was like a drug to Garrett, taking away his sanity, addicting him to everything that Pamela did.

  The loser, they had decided, shouting back and forth in order to be heard over the pounding of the hooves, had to take care of the horses. As they rode at full tilt the last hundred yards to her house, Garrett chivalrously eased up, letting Pamela win by a scant ten yards.

  “I’ll see you inside,” she declared, tossing him her reins before hurrying into the house.

  He unsaddled and thoroughly combed, watered, and fed both animals in record time. And though Garrett knew it was undignified to run after a woman, he did jog from the barn to the house.

  Only to find the door had been locked.

  “Pamela, you locked the door.”

  Her heard her laughter and realized she was just on the other side of the door.

  “Of course I did. It’s late, and I’m alone. What woman wouldn’t lock her door?”

  “That’s not funny.” His erection had been half-formed for most of the night, and he could feel it now, pulsing and growing at the prospect of treasuring Pamela’s lush body. “Open the door.”

  “What’s the magic word?”

  Biting back curse words, Garrett said, “Please?”

  “Sorry. That’s not it.”

  “Damn it, Pamela, I’m going to fuck you half to death for this.”

  He heard the iron bolt sliding in the door. “That’ll do,” she said, opening the door wide.

  There was a smile on her lips that Garrett found far too kissable. He reached for her, but she danced quickly out of the way, moving so that she had the kitchen table between her and her pursuer.

  “Oh, ho! Playing hard to get?” He started around the table, but Pamela moved to keep the barrier between them. “Oh, my pretty lady, you are so going to get punished for this.”

  “What are you going to do? Spank me?” Pamela asked, her tone saucy, her eyes glittering with mischief. “How do you know I might not like it?”

  Garrett reached for her over the table, but she was quick, light on her feet, and she moved out of reach just as he was about to grab her wrist. Her teasing had wildly aroused his passions, and his erection, now gloriously formed, was bulging his trousers and all but screaming to be freed. As she made her deft escape, the heavy mounds of her breasts jiggled and swayed inside her chemise and blouse, their movement adding a spike of adrenaline to Garrett’s desire.

  A thought entered the lust-fevered recesses of his brain, and as he moved slowly around the table while Pamela did the same, he unknotted the black bandanna around his neck.

  “There’s no need to take your clothes off, Mr. Randolph. I’ve changed my mind about being entertained by you.”

  “Entertained? I intend to fuck you.”

  “Such a naughty man.” She took off her hat and her golden hair spilled down in waves over her shoulders. “You use that kind of language in front of a lady?”

  Garrett had played this game long enough. His cock was aching to be released, and chasing after Pamela only made the discomfort worse. With a growl in his throat, Garrett stopped dashing around the table and simply pushed it forward at Pamela. Caught by surprise, she tried to push the table back at Garrett, but he was infinitely stronger and much heavier. In a lightning fast move, he reached over the table and caught her wrist. An instant later, he was around the table and pulling Pamela into his arms.

  “You beast!” she shouted, laughter in her tone as she turned her face aside to avoid Garrett’s kiss.

  A moment later she was bending over the table, her cheek against the hard, flat surface, her arms wrenched behind her back. And an instant after that, she had Garrett’s bandana knotted around her wrists.

  “This should make you a little easier to deal with,” she heard Garrett say from behind her.

  He released his hold on her, and she straightened and turned to face him. Her desires had been percolating for hours, so when the idea of locking him out of her house came to her, she knew that Garrett’s response would be forceful. What she hadn’t counted on was him resorting to bondage, or her own deliciously receptive response to having her wrists tied together. When she glanced down at Garrett’s crotch, the swollen bulge told her he was as excited as she.

  “I’ve waited too long for this,” Garrett said, pulling her once again into his arms.

  Pamela felt her breasts compress against the broad surface of his chest and his hands instantly go from her arms down to her bottom. He squeezed her buns and pulled her against him, grinding his jailed erection against her. She parted her lips, accepting Garrett’s tongue as he bent her backward, eating at her mouth more fiercely than ever before.

  At last, needing to breathe and get at least some control over her senses, Pamela turned her face away, but that didn’t stop Garrett’s feast. His lips, wet and enticing, were at her throat a moment later, kissing, sucking, arousing. Pamela was bent far backward, and if Garrett should suddenly release her, she’d fall to the floor.

  “Oh, god!” she gasped, feeling her cream readying her body for Garrett’s penetration. Never before had she felt so wet, even though he hadn’t yet touched her down there.

  His hands moved from her bottom to her breasts, and when he crushed the twin mounds in his hands, Pamela experienced the pleasure-pain of his ravenous desire for her. Then, almost savagely, he grabbed her shirt and chemise and tore them in half, exposing her breasts. The sound of her clothing being shredded by Garrett’s great strength added fuel to Pamela’s lusty internal fire.

  He bent at the waist, his mouth opening wide as he sucked Pamela’s left nipple and areola into his mouth, drawing a sharp vacuum on the tender flesh. Pamela let out a yelp as once again the pleasure-pain of Garrett’s ferocity shot through her
. He soon transferred his attention to the crest of her other breast, his face burying deeply into the mound, and Pamela wondered if it was possible to climax just from having her nipples expertly sucked on.

  So intense were the sensations coming from her nipples that Pamela did not realize what Garrett was doing with his hands until her trousers were opened. He dropped to his knees and, in one swift, uncompromising move, pulled her trousers and drawers down to the tops of her boots.

  He didn’t hesitate. Filling his hands with the cheeks of her ass, Garrett buried his face between her legs, his tongue immediately separating the tingling lips.

  “Awww!” Pamela gasped when she felt his lips surround her clitoris and suck on it. And then, shocking to her own ears, she heard herself whisper, “Oh, fuck!”

  With her wrists trapped behind her, and her trousers at the tops of her boots, it was difficult to keep her balance, especially with the erotic things Garrett was doing to her pussy. When he spanked her cheek then squeezed it tightly, the stinging sensation heightened her desire.

  The climax hit her with a vengeance, powerful and all-consuming, so draining that when the contractions finally ended and she began her descent from the heights that she’d been driven to, her legs collapsed beneath her.

  Garrett’s next moves were as powerful as they were shocking. As Pamela began kneeling toward the floor, he caught her, moving her as he decided was necessary. He was in a straight-backed chair with Pamela over his knees an instant later. Long blonde hair hung down over the sides of her face, and she found herself looking at the floor, which was only a few inches away. Her bare bottom was up and assailable.

  “This is what bad little girls deserve,” Garrett said, holding Pamela’s writhing, naked body down with one hand as he began spanking her bottom vigorously.

  Each time his palm came down on her bottom, Pamela felt the hot sting and a fresh surge of passion. He spanked her a dozen times, before he began caressing away the discomfort. As he did this, he eased his thumb between the lips of her entrance. The digit slipped in easily, its path well lubricated with Pamela’s cream.

  “Did you really think you were going to deny me tonight?” Garrett asked.

  Pamela knew it was a rhetorical question. Neither she nor Garrett had believed for a second they wouldn’t end the evening with feverish sex. But she hadn’t counted on this. Not the bondage. Not the spanking. Not the intensely shocking way she had favorably responded to everything Garrett had decided to do to her.

  But when she felt his thumb smoothing her own cream against her tight, puckered virgin passage, her eyes and mouth both opened wide in shock. She felt the pressure increase, and she tightened involuntarily. She tried to speak but found that she couldn’t. In fact, she could hardly breathe.

  “You’re resisting,” Garrett scolded, his slick thumb pushing more insistently against her taboo entrance. “You shouldn’t. Tonight I’m going to take what I want.”

  She felt his thumb push past her tight ring of resistance, and the dark pleasure this caused brought a low moan from her throat. It was a strange feeling to be penetrated back there, a pleasure she found naughty but arousing. When his middle finger simultaneously slipped between the lips of her pussy, another low moan came from Pamela’s throat, though she was incapable of words.

  In the back of her mind, as she felt a climax approaching with startling speed, Pamela wondered what she must look like, her clothes ripped from her, bent over Garrett’s lap as he thumbed her bottom and fingered her pussy. It excited her to have her hands bound. The bandana binding her wrists gave her an excuse to be powerless and allow her to pretend she had no choice in what she was doing.

  She thrashed and squirmed on Garrett’s lap when she climaxed again, feeling his hard cock pressing against her stomach, being doubly penetrated and pleasured by a finger and thumb. When her orgasm subsided, Garrett showed the good sense to stop caressing her. Pamela was quite certain she’d die if he gave her yet another climax.

  He eased her off his lap and onto the floor. Though the floor was hard against her bare knees, Pamela did not complain. Her body tingled all over, especially her anus, which had never before been breached.

  Between gulps of air, feeling the perspiration cooling on her naked body, Pamela asked, “Are you going to untie me now?”

  When he walked around to face her, she saw that he had already removed his shirt. Her gaze caressed his naked chest, admiring the definition of his pectorals, the lines of muscles in his abdomen, the power in his broad shoulders. But then he unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his trousers, and brought out his erection.

  The breath caught in Pamela’s throat. Though she had seen Garrett aroused before, he seemed larger now, his erection intimidating. He closed the distance that separated them, and Pamela opened her lips invitingly, but he stayed back. When she started to lean forward, he thrust the fingers of his right hand into her hair and made a fist.

  “No, I’m not going to untie you,” he said, his voice low and dictatorial. “Tonight you’re my sex slave, and you’ll do as I command.” His words made fresh nectar moisten her lips. His tone caressed her senses in ways she hadn’t imagined possible. “Do you want to suck my cock?”

  Pamela closed her eyes, ashamed of her own wanton hunger. She refused to answer, and the silence ticked on. Finally, she nodded.

  “Good girl. Now open your eyes.”

  She followed his command, powerless against the submissive desires he incited. She liked it that he kept holding her by the hair when he fed her his erection, sliding it slowly between her lips and over her tongue, not stopping until he was nudging the opening of her throat.

  The groan of pleasure that rumbled out of Garrett’s chest when he began sliding his erection back and forth between Pamela’s lips delighted her. She licked and sucked, using her lips and occasionally letting her teeth scrape lightly over the knob and shaft of his erection. He seemed, she thought, both longer and thicker than ever before, though she suspected her perceptions were distorted by unprecedented passion on her part.

  He started slowly, but his hips moved steadily faster and faster, pumping his cock deep into her mouth. Pamela wondered if he wanted to climax in her mouth. She was willing to swallow his passion, willing to do anything that would give him the ultimate in satisfaction.

  “Up,” Garrett said.

  Pamela felt the hairs tugging against her scalp. She stood, and Garrett bodily turned her toward the kitchen table and once again bent her over it. Pamela shivered when her erect, tingling nipples came in contact with the flat wooden surface.

  “I think I’ll tie you up more often.”

  Pamela pressed her cheek against the table, her senses reeling at the words and the certainty that he would back up his statement with action, and that she would once again experience the forbidden pleasure of being tied up and helpless against his lust.

  His cock slid between the lips of her pussy in one long, slow thrust. Pamela felt precisely every inch of his flesh as he penetrated her, filling her so completely she knew she couldn’t accept any more.

  A myriad of erotic delights tantalized her perceptions. The table against her breasts, and particularly against her nipples, was rough, not nearly as polished smooth as she’d always thought it to be. Having her trousers around her ankles made it difficult to keep her balance, but Garrett’s hands on her hips were like steel. She heard her own panting exhalations of breath each time she was impaled by Garrett’s unyielding cock, and the submissive arousal she heard in those pants spoke of her acceptance. She felt a thin trickle of her own cream dribble down the inside of one thigh.

  She came twice more before Garrett finally withdrew and released his desire. Pamela felt his seed hit her hair and back and splash over the hands bound behind her back. It seemed to her an incredible amount of cum to be released in a single climax, and she took a silent satisfaction in knowing she had thoroughly pleased Garrett.

  As she felt him unknotting the bandana from around
her wrists, with her cheek still against the table, Pamela asked, “Can a woman die from this?”

  “No. That won’t happen. And don’t for a second think we’re done for tonight.” With his bandana, he began cleaning Pamela’s back and bottom. “Sorry. I got some in your hair.”

  “Making love with you can be a messy proposition.” She rose unsteadily, turning slowly to face Garrett. She looked into his eyes then down at his erection, which had lost only a little of its rigidity. “There’s more?”

  “Let me show you, my love.”

  * * * *

  “You don’t really have to leave,” Pamela said, lacing her fingers together behind Garrett’s neck, leaning into him so that much of her naked body was pressed against his clothed form.

  “I have to,” Garrett replied.

  He placed his hands on Pamela’s hips to push her pelvis away. Her passion was intoxicating, addictive, and just a little greedy at times. Although his desire had been satisfied, he knew he’d stay if she persisted. When Pamela was near, it was hard to remember he was a man with many responsibilities.

  And much as he didn’t want to leave her, Garrett knew that to stay the entire night would cause trouble for Pamela. Then, too, if he arrived in the morning at the gates of Randolph Ranch, at least one of the ranch hands would see him. Other than tending horses and cattle, ranch hands were good at drinking, playing cards, wenching, and gossiping about what the Randolphs were doing.

  “I’ve got to go,” Garrett said, his voice a husky whisper. He cupped Pamela’s face in his palms, knowing that to touch her anywhere else was dangerous in the extreme. “I’ll be back though, I promise. Just as soon as I possibly can.”

  Pamela pouted, pushing out her lower lip, her hands resting lightly on Garrett’s trim hips. She knew why he had to leave. Though she would not be sharing her bed this night with him, she accepted that—at least for now—they could not live idyllically.

  “When will you come back?” she asked, standing at the open doorway, strangely unselfconscious about not having a stitch of clothing on.