The Cowboy's Revenge (Ride Hard Series Book 1)

by Zoe Blake

  Mason slid his foot forward, not wanting to alarm her until she was within arm’s reach. Then he was going to grab her and do what he should have done days ago.

  Annabelle swung right and bolted for the door. Mason was right behind her.

  She could feel the warm night breeze on her face and the wet grass beneath her bare feet as she ran into the yard. Hearing Mason’s quick footstep directly behind, she gave out an excited shriek before running for the waterfall basin.

  Precisely where Mason wanted her.

  Annabelle ran to the smooth rock edge of the basin before stopping to turn around. Mason was standing behind her. He wasn’t even out of breath. Damn the man!

  Standing bare, naked in the woods. The moonlight highlighting his dark features and sculpted chest, he looked like a savage god.

  Annabelle held up her hands in a weak attempt to ward him off. “Game over,” she declared.

  “You’re god damn right it is,” he growled before grabbing her arm and crushing her against his chest.

  His mouth claimed hers. His tongue plunging into her sweet wet mouth. Tasting her.

  Annabelle’s fingers dug into his hair, grasping, clinging. Fighting for breath and control.

  The feel of his warm hands on her breasts was her first indication he had removed her corset. She could feel his fingers at the ribbons of her pantalets, getting ready to tear them off her.

  “Wait!” she cried out.

  “No, Annabelle,” he said, the strain in his voice evident. “Please understand. I can’t. Not one minute more.”

  “I was just going to say, let me do it. This is my only pair.”

  Mason smiled against her lips before tearing the thin fabric, allowing it to fall to the ground. “Good,” he murmured before sweeping her into his arms and carrying her into the water.

  It felt cool and refreshing compared to the warm night air. Mason walked them to the center of the water filled rock basin. Releasing her legs so she floated in front of him, he ordered, “Put your legs around my waist.”

  Annabelle obeyed, groaning as his cock brushed her clit.

  Mason ran his hands up her back, pulling her closer. Her wet breasts pressed against his chest. Her long beautiful hair floated around them like a halo. He crushed his lips on to her own as his hands gripped her small waist. He moved his lips down the slim column of her neck. Kissing the top of her right breast before taking the pert nipple into his mouth. Scraping the delicate flesh with his teeth. Teasing it with his tongue.

  Annabelle groaned and flexed her legs, drawing him in closer.

  “Baby, I can’t wait any longer. I need to be inside of you,” he moaned.

  Annabelle could only nod.

  Mason grasped her head with both hands, cupping her jaw. His flint gray eyes bore into her, intense and dark. “You need to understand what I am saying, Annabelle. I won’t wait any longer. I’m claiming you as my own. Your fiancé be damned!” he growled.

  Annabelle reached between them and grasped his cock. She was surprised how hot his skin felt, even in the cool water. Her innocent hands positioned at the entrance to her cunny. Her violet eyes determined, full of desire…and something else he refused to name.

  “It’s going to hurt,” he warned.

  With a saucy smile, she whispered, “Good.”

  Jesus Christ she was some kind of woman, he thought. And she was his.

  Moving his hands to her hips, he pushed his cock into her body, slowly, allowing her to adjust. Pushing into her warm, wet heat, her muscles clenched down, tightening around his shaft. He pushed in further till he could feel the gentle push-back of her maidenhead. He didn’t ask if she was sure. He didn’t pause for her to comprehend what was about to happen. He didn’t want to risk her saying no again. Pulling back his hips, he impaled her on one painful thrust.

  Annabelle called out as her fingernails dug into his shoulders. The pain was different from before. When he took her bottom, it was sharp and biting. This was more of an aching feel…with an edge. It was as if her body craved the pain his fullness would provide. She wanted him to thrust deeper.

  Her whole body tensed like a bow. It took all his restraint to keep still. Waiting. Waiting. After several agonizing moments, he could feel her body relax. Her thighs unclenched around his hips. It was if she allowed the water to sooth her. Her body to float. Gently he pulled back, feeling her body ripple and move with his own movement. Then he thrust in, to the hilt. Annabelle groaned. Her hips shifted, grinding into him.

  He drove into her tight, little body in earnest now. His only regret, not being able to watch as his cock slid into her cunny. To watch her body stretch and open for him. It was hidden under the dark depths of the water. Next time…and there would be a next time.

  Moving his hands to grip the soft under curve of her bottom, he tilted her body back. Annabelle followed his lead, floating back on the water. Mason leaned forward to flick her nipple with the tip of his tongue. Her inner core trembled and clasped down on his shaft.

  Splaying his hand on her stomach, he moved it down till the heel of his palm covered her sensitive nub. He pressed, shifting his hand left and right. She was so responsive he knew she had come before just from the brush of his body against her clit.

  Annabelle groaned, shifting her hips higher in the water, tightening her legs around his waist, pushing herself against his hand. There was pain but it was dull, receding, falling away like a wave on the water. All that was left was a feeling of fullness. Of being taken over. Controlled. His body inside her own. Dominating her.

  “I need you to cum for me, Annabelle.”

  She didn’t respond…couldn’t.

  Mason increased the intensity of his thrusts. They were almost violent. Pounding into her flesh. “Cum for me,” he ground out as he could feel his own release build. He moved his hand to pinch her clit, hard.

  Annabelle threw back her head, feeling the water rush over her face for a moment before he wrenched her upwards. Gasping for air, she clamped her arms around his neck. After focusing on his searing gaze, she closed her eyes and kissed him. This time it was she who forced her tongue between his lips. He quickly took over. Running the tip of his tongue over the sharp edge of her teeth. Nibbling at her lower lip. Swirling his tongue around her own.

  Annabelle screamed her release into his kiss. Her thighs squeezing tight around his body, trapping his hand against her clit. Mason soon followed, letting out a primal roar to rival any beast lingering in the wilds around them.

  ~*~

  Sometime later, they were tucked under the quilts in the bedroom. Unlike the past two nights, when they merely lay next to one another almost out of necessity, this time they were tangled in each other’s arms. Annabelle was on her back, her head resting on his shoulder. Mason was playing with a long silken curl. Twisting it around his fingers, admiring its sheen and golden color.

  He cleared his throat. “We need to talk, Calico.”

  Annabelle’s stomach twisted. Tears sprang to her eyes. After fighting it for so long, she now liked his funny nickname for her. Just now, he said it with such tenderness and now he was going to break her heart. Now that he got his full poker winnings, her virginity, he was going to cast her aside. Sitting up in bed, clutching the blankets to her breast, she swiped at the tears as she straightened her back.

  “No need, cowboy,” she said with false aplomb. “We both got what we wanted and your week is up. If you would just drop me off at the stagecoach station tomorrow morning, I’ll make my own way back to town.”

  Mason swallowed his rage. Willing himself not to handle her too roughly, he grabbed her shoulders and forced her back onto the bed. Climbing on top, he pinned her down with his own weight.

  “You listen and you listen well, Calico, because I’m only going to say this once,” he growled. “You’re not going anywhere. You try to leave me and I’ll find you. Always. Do you understand me? I don’t give a damn what kind of high-falootin life of leisure in the big city
you had planned with that mealy mouthed fiancé of yours…your plans have just changed.”

  Annabelle could feel his body press down into her own. He was so powerful, so angry. She felt an illicit feminine thrill at his possessive words. He wanted her to stay. Maybe he hadn’t said he loved her but a man didn’t tell a woman he wanted to keep her around unless there was some feeling there. She already knew she loved him. As crazy and twisted as it was to love the man who spirited you away it was true. He was the first person in her life to treat her like a person…not some fragile doll or frilly thing to be paraded about. He opened her eyes to the type of vapid, hollow life she had been leading. She wanted more. She wanted grit and passion and energy and she wanted it with him.

  It took several moments for the roaring in his ears to cease, for his heart beat to slow, for him to loosen his grip on the blankets close to her head…for him to realize she was looking at him with what could almost be called love not anger.

  “I need you to say something, Annabelle.”

  She gave a dramatic sigh and then teasingly said, “Fine. I’ll stay but you’re buying me some dresses of my own.”

  Mason laughed as he swooped down to kiss her. “You got it. And every one of them will be calico.”

  Annabelle gave a mock shout of outrage as she playfully pounded on his chest. Their light-hearted tussling didn’t last for long. Annabelle could feel the press of his erect shaft against her stomach.

  She gave him a pleading look. “I just can’t. I’m still really sore.”

  Mason smiled. “I guess I’ll just have to kiss it better.”

  Annabelle’s eyes widened in shock as he showed her yet another way he could bring pleasure.

  ~*~

  Vulture City, Arizona

  Waltze sat in his study enjoying a brandy. That bastard, Mason, had eluded him all week but no more. He just put a bounty on the bastard’s head. Every two-bit gunslinger within 100 miles will be gunning for him. As soon as they killed Mason and retrieved Annabelle, Waltze would head out of town. After all, it was only a matter of time before the bodies near the mine were found and people started asking questions. If people realized he was the man called Dutchman, he would be hanged for sure. He planned to head to the Northwest Territories where there was still easy money to be made.

  Waltze thought of Annabelle. No doubt she had already spread her thighs more than once for the bastard. That might have bothered a moral man but Waltze didn’t care. He would have preferred to keep her virginity for himself but at least this way she was used goods. It should be no trouble convincing her that her only option was to marry him. Maybe he would toss her into a brothel for a night just to make his point. As Waltze thought of Annabelle forced to service man after man after man while he looked on, his cock got hard.

  Chapter Eleven

  Annabelle awoke to the soft murmuring of voices. Fearing her step-father had finally tracked them down, she quickly dressed in her borrowed clothes and crept towards the door. Opening it a slant, she looked out into the living area. Mason was talking with another man. It was definitely not her step-father. The man was too tall, too broad. His henchman? No. Mason just laughed. He wouldn’t be laughing if it was one of her step-father’s lackeys. The man had on Cavalry boots like Mason. Instead of the loose fitting California pants favored by Mason, this man had on a pair of tight, black riding pants. In fact, he was dressed entirely in black, right down to his gun belt. He had strong, handsome features but his eyes were dark and soulless. If he wasn’t laughing at something Mason said, Annabelle would have thought he was as fearsome as hell.

  She strained to listen.

  “So did you track down the bastard who killed your brother and put a bullet in his head?” asked the stranger.

  “I told you I had enough killin in the war,” sighed Mason.

  “That’s right. You were just going to ruin him. What was it again? Through his daughter?”

  Mason looked over his shoulder but the bedroom door appeared to be closed.

  “There’s no need to talk about this now,” he stated.

  “Yeah, it was the daughter,” continued the stranger, ignoring him. “Well, did you fuck her? Hope she was at least pretty enough to go through the effort. It would be a rubbish revenge plan if she looked like the wrong side of a heifer and the bastard didn’t give a shit if you fucked her or not,” laughed the stranger.

  “Let’s go into the kitchen,” motioned Mason.

  “Great. Got a bottle of that applejack?”

  “Sure do.”

  Annabelle couldn’t hear anymore. She paced the bedroom, fuming. So there had been an ulterior motive behind Mason winning her in that wretched card game. It had something to do with her loathsome step-father. That he had somehow wronged Mason, she didn’t doubt. Her step-father was not a nice man and had many enemies. How could Mason not tell her the truth? Damn the man! Annabelle stopped short. A small secret smile spread across her heart-shaped face. Time to teach him a lesson.

  Quickly undressing, she threw on Mason’s discarded shirt. The navy blue soft wool complimented her eyes and made her hair look like spun gold. Annabelle made certain to keep the three buttons undone. The opening fell between her breasts to just above her naval. It gave a tantalizing glimpse of curve with just a hint of nipple. After fluffing her hair and pinching her cheeks, Annabelle opened the door and sauntered into the kitchen as if she had just awoken.

  Mason’s back was to her. His only indication that Annabelle was awake was the look of shocked appreciation spreading across his friend Horn’s face. Mason turned and immediately stood to block Horn’s gaze.

  Grabbing Annabelle by the shoulders, he said with determination, “Go back into the bedroom, Annabelle. I have a guest.”

  Shrugging off his grasp, Annabelle walked past him. “I see that, Mason. Hello, I’m Annabelle,” she offered with a purr as she stretched her hand out to the stranger.

  “I’m Horn,” said the man, clasping her hand in a warm, strong grip. Horn cast an amused look in Mason’s direction.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Horn. My what a name,” giggled Annabelle.

  Mason’s eyes narrowed to slits. What game was she playing at?

  Throwing a pouting look over her shoulder at Mason, Annabelle flipped her hair and turned her attention back to Horn. “May I have a sip of your whiskey?”

  Horn nodded, holding the glass out for her. Annabelle took a small sip. “My that’s so very strong,” she said with another giggle.

  “All right, that’s enough,” shouted Mason as he wrapped an arm around her waist, dragging her backwards.

  Horn and Mason were in the same Cavalry regiment during the war. They had been to hell and back together. They were like brothers. And if Annabelle took one more sip from his whiskey or giggled one more god damn time at something Horn said, Mason was going to kill him with his bare hands.

  “There’s plenty of room in the barn for you to bed down, Horn. I’ll be there after I take care of a pressing matter,” tossed Mason over his shoulder.

  Mason carried a kicking and screaming Annabelle into the bedroom. Finally releasing her, he roared, “Just what the holy hell was that, woman?”

  “Punishment,” she spat out.

  “Oh, there will be a punishment, but first I want to know what has gotten into you?”

  “I didn’t mean a punishment for me!” she said exasperated.

  “I did,” he said with dark intent as he moved to his saddlebags stashed in the corner of the room. Flicking open the belted flap, he pulled out her silver hairbrush.

  Annabelle backed away. “You’re crazier than a coyote in spring if you think I’m letting you touch me!”

  “I’m not asking your permission.”

  Just the vision of her naked thighs as they peeked out from the hem of his shirt. The sweet rounded softness of her breasts visible through the opening. Her beautiful unbound hair falling in waves. All put on display for another man. Mason increased his hard gr
ip on the handle of the hairbrush.

  “After…after…what we shared you’re going to try and punish me again?” she asked incredulous.

  “It’s because of what we shared and there won’t be no tryin about it,” warned Mason as he lunged for her.

  Annabelle cried out as he pulled her over his lap. His shirt rode up around her waist, exposing her bottom. Trapping her left arm between them, Mason wrapped his strong fingers around the fragile wrist of her right, securing her.

  “Why are you being punished?”

  “Because you’re a jealous cow…” She didn’t finish her sentence.

  Mason struck the sensitive skin on her upper thigh with the silver brush, knowing she would have been bracing for a hit on the generous flesh of her ass.

  “Ow! Ow!”

  “Why are you being punished?”

  Annabelle stubbornly clamped her lips shut.

  Mason laid several well placed smacks on the soft under-curve of her bottom and upper thighs. Watching the skin bloom from a pale ivory to a flushed pink.

  “Stop! Fine! Fine! I’m being punished because I was sparkin with another man!” she confessed with a shout.

  Mason began her punishment in earnest. Annabelle screamed herself hoarse as the hard brush made contact with her smooth skin. She wasn’t sure what was worse, being spanked with his bare hand or the brush. The end result was the same, an intense burning sting. She could feel his shaft press into her stomach. The scratch of his wool pants against her thighs. The sound of his harsh breathing as he struggled to contain his anger. In vain, she pulled on her right wrist, trying to dislodge his grasp and somehow protect herself from more punishment.

  When her skin was a bright cherry red, he stopped, having no desire to bruise her.

  Annabelle took in several long gasps of air, worn out from both the spanking and her own screams.

  Mason twirled the brush in his hand till the bristle side was down. It was a boar’s hair brush. The stiff bristles black with light brown tips. He gently rested the bristle side on her skin.