Collared By The Cowboy (Bad Boys)

by Susan Arden

  Penrose lifted his hand, reaching up to cup the woman’s breast. He tweaked her nipple, drawing down on the chain, and she gasped sharply. “I promise you’ll feel both pleasure and pain tonight, Alex,” Penrose said.

  The sub’s lips quivered, and Penrose lowered his hand down her stomach, stopping at her thong. He grasped the elastic on her hip and untied the bow, then repeated the motion on the other side. With the sub’s panties removed, Mia was powerless to avert her eyes and stared at the woman’s hairless mound. Penrose placed his hand between his sub’s legs and moved his arm with a pumping action.

  She couldn’t see exactly what the Dom was doing, but whatever it was, Alex wriggled her hips until she was told to stop. Penrose walked around the sub and thudded his boot-clad feet against the floor in a wide stance. His muscles flexed with his slight swinging of the flogger. His arm lifted, and the whoosh of the air brought chills to Mia’s skin. She held her breath as Penrose brought the flogger down on Alex’s bottom. The sound ripped apart the dense silence in the room.

  “O-one, Sir,” the sub’s voice rang out.

  “Louder,” Penrose answered, “or we start again, my sweet slut.”

  Slut? Mia turned her face and glanced over her shoulder, wondering about the difference in humiliation play and degradation. So far, she hadn’t seen anything degrading going on in S & L.

  “You have a question?” Brandon’s sculpted face was tense, his nostrils flared, and his pupils dilated. Obviously, he was aroused to some degree.

  “Will you call me names…like slut or whore?”

  “Do you want me to?” He moved his hand down from his hips and hiked her ass upward, rubbing it over his straining hard-on.

  She arched back against, growing more and more confused. “I don’t know.”

  “I don’t plan on it,” he responded, brushing his mouth over her cheek.

  Heat flared in her body. “How many times will he use the flogger?”

  “Can’t say. I don’t know what her transgression is. Before Penrose started, they spoke. You saw them whispering?”

  “Yes.” She flinched again as Alex voice rose in counting her discipline. Brandon’s hands were on Mia’s waist and there was no mistaking that he was fully erect. She turned her face to his, glancing up to his eyes. “Do you like watching?”

  He smirked, pushing himself into her from behind. “I like imagining that’s you and I’m right there with you, but I’d be lying to say this also isn’t a turn-on. You up against me.”

  “Do you ever not have the perfect comeback?” she huffed, facing forward and lifting her chin.

  “Sugar, there’s no comeback. There’s only you and me.”

  A hum of frustration vibrated deep in Mia throat. Too easily she could have molded against Brandon and melted, if not dissolved on the spot. She pushed and he unraveled her. When would she learn? She tried to step a few inches forward and that worked like hell.

  “Stop fighting,” he said and tugged her back to him, rubbing his cock against her ass. “That would normally earn you twenty. Care to go from a warning to really earning a transgression?”

  The ache between her legs pulsated. Heat and lust ignited in craving Brandon and his ability to command her. She was starting to understand the head game of being dominated, and pressed her ass against Brandon’s hard-on, savoring his grunt. She flexed her hips up and down his length, curling her fingers and pressing her nails into her own palms as she played with a fire beyond her control.

  “Not especially,” she said, gritting her teeth to keep from moaning.

  “You’ve given me complete ownership of you. And you’ll enjoy how I take care of your needs, my little researcher.”

  “Oh,” she gasped. Had he climbed into her head?

  He scrapped his jaw over hers, inciting her hunger, and pulled her hair, not hard, but enough to make her train her focus on him. “Next time I have to remind you, it won’t be with a warning. Game on, baby.”

  Her whole body shuddered uncontrollably. He’d just avowed they’d crossed the Rubicon.

  “We’ll see,” she said in quick response and she received the gift of a deep rumbling chuckle within his chest. He’s so damn cocky!

  This was a battle of wills, and so she decided to stop fighting and start acting. She studied the woman and Penrose, trying to keep a trained mind on what was going on, even if this wasn’t the normal place to find research. If her advisor only knew, she’d get thrown out of the program. Oh, how far down this slippery slope of deception was she going to slide?

  After the sub had withstood twenty smacks with the flogger, pinpricks of perspiration broke out on Mia’s neck. “Is that it?” she asked, unsteady and combating a raging lust storm brewing in her own body.

  “Hardly,” Brandon said, his hand resting comfortably on her hip. He seemed to know she needed more and he rubbed his jaw against her shoulder, lifting her hair and brushing his mouth against her neck. “Are you wet?” he whispered.

  She was, and she longed to disappear with him into some place where she could openly digest what she’d seen. It didn’t make sense, not from what she’d experienced. “He’s going to give her what she wants. She’s earned her reward. But he’s picked up a whip.”

  “That’s right. Now he’s going to make her come. Watch, Mia. Mine.”

  Penrose wielded the whip like it was an extension of his arm. He snapped it just so and it cracked against Alex’s skin, over and over, as Alex counted down from twenty again. “Is that a pretty popular number?” she asked.

  Brandon chuckled. “Ten is not enough, and anything too high can get complicated. It’s considered somewhat baseline.”

  She did a double take. “Nice researcher speak.”

  “You’re not the only one with a degree. Don’t forget.”

  “Not yet,” she reminded him. “I still have to graduate.”

  Alex counted, her voice wavered, and Penrose never let his gaze drift or pay attention to anything that occurred in the audience. Some people, she noticed, were in various states of open arousal without anyone getting undressed or outright having sex.

  “One, Sir. Thank you.” Alex seemed to slump from exhaustion. Penrose came up to her and kissed her on the mouth. The sub leaned her forehead into his neck while he unhooked her wrists. Penrose guided his sub to the bench and sat her down while he attended to her ankles. Gently his hands worked over the manacles then he spread her cape over her shoulders and lifted her up. Finally, he led her from the room. “I thought he was going to…you know.”

  “Have sex?” Brandon supplied with a wry twist to his lips.

  “Yes.”

  “That doesn’t always happen. It’s not the usual here. In so far as sex clubs go, we’re considered tame.”

  “Is that why you want to have sex in public?”

  He stared down at her. “I’m not going to use what we do for some marketing ploy. It’s my job to explore the edge of your desire. Push, but not plunder.”

  She shrugged. “It was one of the things Penrose mentioned. Why he was so gung ho on me coming here.”

  “That’s him. Not me. I have a whole other life besides this one.”

  “Not surprising,” she said. No wonder he was cooler than a cucumber. “The horse thing?”

  “Yeah. I opened this club because it’s who I am. I also exist in a whole other world that I can’t escape.”

  Should she ask if that included a wife and kids? He’d said he was in love…no, he’d loved his last lover. She’d never asked about being married. Her eyes flew to his hands, his fingers—no ring and no tan line. What did that prove? “Are you married?”

  His belly rippled with restrained laughter. “You sure are a woman filled with an imagination. No. I’m not married.” He pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her for a second. “It’s still early. Do you want to see more or do more?” he asked.

  More thinking…her thoughts tumbled and flickered and she frowned. “I don’t know.”
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br />   He slowly spun her around. “Don’t like the sound of that.” He gave her a knowing look. “I believe I have just what you need.”

  Brandon tugged her hand and took her toward the back of the club where she’d come through earlier. Up a flight of stairs, and down a narrow hall. He pushed open a door and led her inside. “My place. Home away from home.”

  “But downstairs…” she began.

  “Hmm. Is that an argument?”

  “A question,” she said quickly.

  He pointed. “Come with me.” She walked into a large kitchen. Complete with white cabinets and tiled counters. It was older, but neat and tidy for a guy. A basket of fruit hung over the counter and there was a calendar with writing on it attached to a magnetic whiteboard. Photographs of smiling people. He really did have a regular life somewhere away from here. It all seemed so surreal. Downstairs with the dim lighting, the thick sexual tension, and the bar, it wasn’t like a restaurant or store, and even when she was with him there was an element of fantasy…except when they’d been alone. Up here she felt that same sense of connection that disappeared when she was next to him in the club.

  He opened the refrigerator and removed a box. “Best pie this side of the Dallas. Now, come here.”

  She walked over to him. The white cardboard box was stamped with Papa Joe’s. “Pie? You brought me up here to eat pie?”

  “Sure. I’m hungry and figured you might be, too.” Brandon leaned against the counter and pulled her in front of him. He brushed back her hair then untied the cords of the cape at her neck.

  The look of lust and smoky heat in his eyes sent an erotic thrill through her. The cape slipped off her shoulders and he caught it and carried it to a chair. She watched him set her cape down and then he removed his hat. She reached up and untied the ribbons of her mask.

  What was going on up here…was this the fantasy, or was it downstairs?

  “I guess I am,” she murmured, suddenly starving. She curled her fingers, pressing her nails into her palms to keep from trembling at the power he exerted over her. She responded to his insinuations. Verbal and not. “What should I do?” she asked unsure if she was addressing her inner turmoil or the scene before her.

  Brandon looked over at her. “Right in back of you, there are some plates.”

  He brought the box over to the table. Retraced his steps, stopped at a drawer and removed forks and a knife. “You drink coffee?”

  “I’m in grad school. Some days it requires an IV transfusion. Where do you keep it?”

  Inside the kitchen, he wasn’t the almighty club owner everyone downstairs watched. “Third canister on your right.”

  He reached for the cabinet above her shoulder, his body hovering by her side, a tease that expanded her awareness of him.

  “Brandon,” she said, the sound, texture, and taste of his name riding her tongue. Just Brandon, plain and simple. The man. Not the Dom. And she wasn’t the researcher. She wasn’t his conquest. She could be anyone at that moment—he was giving her the freedom to decide. He held a coffee filter in his hands and closed the cabinet door.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked, aching to rub her fingers along his arm. He’d promised her twenty licks with a flogger and instead he was giving her a million reasons to run and hide. Or to come clean and admit she’d made a mistake. This wasn’t a project to research—she now encountered a man she wanted to get to know.

  “You need to eat. You’re thin as it is and I don’t believe you ate dinner. You said you liked sweets, so there, girl. Got your story?”

  She gaped. “How did you know?”

  Opening the box, he deadpanned over to her. “Darlin’, those hunger pangs going on in your stomach were the first clue.”

  “You pay attention,” she replied.

  “To you, I do. And why? Because I plan on enjoying you for a long, long time. Can’t have you getting lightheaded on me.” He smiled at her. “This is all I have to eat.”

  She reached out to him, refusing to put aside all that she desired. “Hate to contradict you, Sir.” She enjoyed using the moniker she’d read about in her research, and it felt erotic and intimate when she said it to Brandon. “You have something else I’d enjoy, too.”

  He groaned. “You’re playing with fire.” His voice dropped to a gravelly tone. “First let me feed you, and then we’ll see about dessert.”

  Brandon cut the pie and served her a piece she’d never be able to finish. “That’s huge!”

  “That’s what you said before and you did just fine.”

  She inhaled. “Because you have more confidence than a cougar.”

  “You’re welcome.” He laughed, pulling her down onto his lap.

  “Man, I guess I walked into that one.” She swiveled on his lap, hoisting her leg until she straddled Brandon and held the plate between them.

  Brandon took the fork from her hand, placed it on the table, and broke off a piece of the pie. “Open your lovely mouth.”

  She obliged and he fed her a small bite, caressing her skin down her neck as she chewed. When she finished, she said, “Delicious. What about you?”

  “Hush. This isn’t about me.” He broke off another piece, slightly bigger, and held it up to her. “Again.”

  His fully erect cock was just under her—separated only by a few paltry layers of clothing. He shifted, moving his hard-on against her, and she clenched as coiling pleasure radiated in her body. All she had to do was flex her hips forward and she’d come undone.

  He put the pie into her mouth, feeding her, and watching her closely. The next piece was larger; she eyed it, then looked up to him.

  “Trust me,” he whispered.

  She hesitated and his brow inched upward on his forehead. She opened her mouth, wide, and he placed the piece of pie into her mouth. The cream covered her lips and he stalled, staring at her.

  “You’re mine. All of you. Got it?” He removed the plate from her hands and hoisted her up by her elbows until she was eye level with him. In a blink, he brought her millimeters from his face.

  Slowly…carefully…he licked and sucked her lips. He laved her mouth with his tongue, returning again and again to suck on her bottom lip until the space between her legs pulsed and her swollen clit begged for release. He set her down on his lap and his erection rubbed hard against her sex, causing a rapid-fire release through her tight bundle of nerves. She moaned, digging her fingers into his biceps as glittery goose bumps cover her body. He rolled her hips back and forth, rubbing her to the point that her mind blanked.

  “Sir, I’m close,” she whispered

  “Mia, don’t you dare come,” he growled, tangling his hand in her hair. He jerked her head back until she stared up into his sapphire eyes that flickered with an intense arousal, the same she’d witnessed before. The very same she felt inside. “Fuck, I want you as crazy-hot as I am.”

  Should she tell him too late? A rush of heat begged for relief between her legs. He lowered her on top of his lap, taking hold of her by the hips and rubbing her over his cock, so hard and rough she could feel herself come undone.

  Brandon abruptly stopped, crushing his hand between her legs and slowly wiped his finger across her sex. She panted as she watched him raise his wet finger to his mouth and lick his skin. Her arousal scented the air and she closed her eyes, curling her hands around his rock-hard forearms, holding on for dear life.

  “Please.” She was almost there. “I’m serious. I’ll lose it.”

  “You’ll hold on. For me,” he said with all the assurance in the world, and she nodded in agreement.

  He groaned, taking possession of her hips again. This time he slowed the pitch and pressure of how he moved her on top of him. How could he stand it?

  She bit her lip to stop from begging him as he rocked her hips, using the erotic friction of their bodies riding each other, and took her straight to edge. So ramped up, she could feel reality alter as her over-stimulated brain and body fought each other for control.
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  “What about you?” she asked, opening her eyes, and coming up for air.

  “You’re turn. Feed me, baby.” He brought the plate back to her.

  She stared open mouthed for a second if he thought she was capable of simple thinking.

  “Feed you?”

  “I’m hungry. Don’t keep me waiting,” he whispered.

  She didn’t doubt by the way he said ‘hungry’ that he’d do something pretty quick if she didn’t act at his command. She swallowed, forcing her brain to think, and took hold of the pie.

  He watched her break off a piece of the pastry and bring it to his full lips. As she fed him, a couple of crumbs strayed to his lips. She wiped them away from his mouth that didn’t smile at her. A muscle twitched along his jaw. Carefully she fed Brandon another piece and the coffee pot beeped. He sighed, removing the plate from her hand, leaned forward against her, and picked her up. Effortlessly he stood, his body moving easily with the additional weight.

  She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, aware of his hands cupping her ass. He walked her to the counter. “I can get cream from downstairs.”

  “I drink it black,” she murmured, pressing her mouth to his neck.

  He murmured, “Another thing we have in common.” After seating her on the counter, he grabbed two mugs and poured coffee into both. He handed her a mug. “Drink.”

  She blew into her cup, observing him over the rim as he did the same to her. He took a long pull from his cup and set it down. “Ouch,” she whispered. “That had to burn.”

  “Not really. I’m used to drinking it down fast in the morning.” He returned to stand in front of her.

  “How’s the wicked and wild fantasy going?” She thought he was going to pick her up but instead he tugged on the skirt of her dress. When the hem brushed past her knees, he let go of her dress and opened her legs wide enough to wedge his hips between. He pulled her thighs to fit snug on either side of his hips and lifted a brow, gazing into her eyes.

  “With that tone, you just reminded me to include a filthy scene of us naked and your lovely ass bared to me.” His hands moved up underneath the edge of her dress, which had bunched over the tops of her thighs, a draft of air swimming over her dampness. “I owe you something. Don’t I?”