by Lee Savino
Her shoulders slumped. She was half turned away from me when she muttered, “Stop being so nice to me.”
“Look at me when you’re talking to me.”
Her white-blonde head snapped around, her flinty eyes striking sparks. “Like this?”
“Better.”
She turned back to her work with a huff.
“Talk to me, Isabelle,” I drawled, making my voice low and soothing. “You’re as hostile as hell. I can hardly get a word out of you.”
“Maybe I want you to leave me the fuck alone,” she muttered to the dirt.
Oh, no, sweetheart. You did not just sass me. “What was that?”
Her throat worked as if she knew she’d bitten off more than she could chew. But to her credit, she turned to face me. “You heard me.”
“I did. Now I’m waiting for an apology. You don’t have to like it here, Isabelle. You don't have to like me. But you will treat me with respect.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll put you over my knee, and spank the sass out of you.”
To my amazement, a smirk played on her lips. “Is that so?”
“You know I don’t bluff.” I worked my jaw back and forth. “Are you going to make me spank an apology out of you?”
“Maybe,” she said, turning to face me fully. Her gaze dropped to my crotch.
I blinked, and in an instant, I was rock hard, straining against the zipper of my jeans.
Is she really inviting me to spank her?
My head spun, and my palms tingled.
There she was, my perfect little ballerina, now looking like a scruffy little cowgirl, a streak of mud on her cheek, and her ass so tempting in those tight jeans.
She straightened up and turned to face me, and I saw the raw need in her face, the vulnerability.
“But you’ll have to catch me first,” she said, eyes lit up with challenge.
She spun on her heel, and raced away from me.
I was so stunned at the turn of events, it took my brain a minute to catch up. By the time I took off after her, she’d gotten to the end of the walkway, and was turning in to the yard.
Something told me not to go full pelt, to enjoy the chase. And so I followed her, my gaze locked on to to her high round ass.
She raced past the house and through to the stables, as I gained on her little by little. She kept looking over her shoulder, checking for me, and adrenaline surged in my veins. Every part of me was alive, my primal, animal instincts rising up in me. I was the predator, and she was the prey.
It was time to catch her, and show her who was boss.
When she darted around the side of the stables, I lost sight of her. She was cunning; she knew I’d have a hard time catching her among those tightly-packed structures. A couple of times, I caught sight of her white T-shirt, only to lose it again. It was like the best game of hide and seek, my cock surging every time I sighted her. We circled the yard a couple of times, until finally I was standing in the middle of it, turning around. She was nowhere in sight. She’d given me the slip. It was ridiculous.
The game of chase had turned into a treasure hunt.
I rubbed the back of my neck, ducking my head to hide my grin before drawling, “Isabelle, don’t make me come and find you.”
I looked around, strained my ears. I thought I could hear the sweet feminine sound of her breathing, so close to the sound she’d made when she’d orgasmed.
“You better come out now.” I tried to tuck my smile back in. “Or you’re not going to like the punishment when I get a hold of you.” She had to be in one of the empty stables, or maybe in the tack shed. I began going through them methodically, listening hard all the while. She wasn’t in the first, the second, or the third. But suddenly there was a rustle behind me. I spun around in time to see her darting into the first one.
Goddammit, the girl was too smart for her own good. I dashed out of the third stall, snuck around the back of the first one, and there she was, right in the doorway, peeking out, but expecting me to arrive from the other direction. I crept up behind her and threw my arms around her.
She let out a scream of surprise and outrage. She wriggled and thrashed in my arms, but I’d gotten her fast, one arm around her hips, the other wrapped around her full breasts. My face pressed close, I picked up the heady scent of her skin and hair.
“Thought you were going to outwit me, did you?” I snarled in her ear. “I’m going to make you pay for that. Double.”
“Yeah?” she retorted. “Well, I’m not going to make it easy for you.” She was still fighting to get away, and it was only making my cock harder and harder.
“I’m going to show you exactly what happens to bratty, uncooperative little girls on my ranch.”
Blood rushed in my veins. I was all caught up in the moment, half play-acting, half real fervor. Trying to figure out the best way of maneuvering her, I picked her up and slung over my shoulder, firefighter style. She kicked her legs hard, doing her best to jab me in the abs.
“You’d better quit doing that if you don’t want me to drop you on your head,” I warned her.
Immediately, she went still. I laid my hand on her taut thighs to keep her in place as I marched across the yard to my destination. As soon as the idea had popped into my head, I knew it was the right one. There was only one place here that was suitable for punishing a girl as disobedient as she’d been.
In the front of the parking lot was an old barrel lying on its side. It was mainly for decorative purposes, and it had Welcome home to the ranch burned into the side of it. But I sometimes left the horses’ saddles and bridles on it if I was letting them loose in the adjacent corral.
It was perfect.
A slow pleasure warmed my chest at the sight of it. I didn’t know how many times I’d fantasized about having a girl over it. It had never been possible because my mom had always been around. But now…
I let Isabelle off my shoulder, and she landed in the dirt as neatly as a cat.
“What are you going to do with me?” she demanded. She was as mad and spitting as a feral creature.
I couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across my face. “You’ll find out. But know this: if you don’t do exactly what I say, your punishment is just gonna go on that much longer. You understand?”
Those huge blue eyes of hers flashed, but she gave a small nod.
I unfastened the buckle on my jeans. Her eyes dropped to see what I was doing, then a flash of heat colored her cheeks. There was no way she wasn’t seeing the bulge in my pants. My cock ached, and I was about five seconds away from shooting my load. She watched, unable to tear her eyes away as I yanked my belt all the way out of the loops on my jeans. I flexed it between my hands. It was pure rawhide leather, and as old as I was. Used to be my daddy’s in fact.
“Now, get over that barrel.”
“What do you mean?” she said, acting innocent.
“You know what I mean,” I growled. “Lie over that barrel, with that pretty ass of yours upward.”
Exasperated, I took hold of her and stretched that sexy body of hers over the top of the barrel. Automatically, her hands went out in front of her to steady herself.
Perfect.
I snatched up her wrists in one hand, and bound the belt around them.
Her face remained defiant, but there was a little tremor in her hands.
“That’s so you don’t think about trying to escape again,” I told her. Often, I liked to leave a girl’s hands loose, so she’d be forced to restrain her natural urge to cover her ass. But I sensed I needed to make Isabelle completely vulnerable for what I was about to do.
I stood for a moment and took her in, knowing I’d want this moment stored in my memory forever. That beautiful, denim-clad ass displayed over the barrel so temptingly. The tension in her body as she wondered what was coming next. The way her toes kept scrabbling in the dirt, trying to get purchase on the ground.
“Okay, good,” I said at last. “
Now, you’re gonna lie here nice and quiet, like a good girl.”
I reached beneath her slim hips and unfastened her jeans. Lifting her body a little, I shucked them down and kept going until they were down by her ankles.
She gave a squeak of surprise and kicked her legs up.
“Lie still,” I growled.
At the sight of her pink lace panties, my breath caught in my throat. I’d seen her like that before in the strip club, of course, but this was different. She wasn’t dressed like a stripper. This was her natural self in her regular underwear. My cock was so hard, it hurt.
My palms tingled in anticipation before I lifted my hand and brought it down on her right cheek with a sharp slap.
She gasped. “Joel! What if someone sees us?”
I chuckled low in my throat. “I’m not expecting anyone.”
It was true. Sometimes my buddies turned up unannounced, as did my mom, but I figured it was a chance worth taking.
Slap! went my hand on her other cheek and she flinched, hissing like a little cat.
I paused and surveyed my handiwork. A little color had risen on her flesh, but it was half hidden by her panties. A pity.
Making a split-second decision, I grasped the waistband of her panties and yanked them down as well.
“Nooo, Joel,” she whimpered.
“It’s for your own good,” I told her. I tugged her panties all the way down to her ankles, along with her jeans, and as I did, I felt some moisture on my hand. Jesus, she’s wet. Already the little cotton crotch of her panties glistened with her lubrication. She wanted this as badly as I did.
I rose up and landed a hard slap right in the middle of her ass.
She cried out and squirmed, her bound hands helpless.
I spanked her again and again, all over her lovely, bare ass and the tops of her thighs. Her behind felt like two ripe peaches, quivering under my touch—the flesh white at first, then blushing so prettily, until it was pink all over.
“When you stay in my ranch, you live by my rules,” I told her.
Slap!
“You act civil.”
Slap!
“And when I ask you what’s wrong, you tell me.”
Slap!
I punctuated each sentence with the rhythm of my hand, each spank heavier than the last.
“I’m teaching you this lesson for your own good. Teaching you that I can’t abide bratty girls.”
Isabelle yelped and groaned and begged me to stop. As the slaps got harder, she thrashed her legs and wriggled away from them, and her movement shucked the jeans off her legs so her thighs could fall further and further apart.
At last, her bare sex was revealed to me. I stopped, my hand raised in midair. She was loving this rough, stinging rhythm, her pussy glistening, her inner thighs smeared with her juices. Every nerve in my body urged me to touch her, to pull my cock out and take her.
But I didn’t have the right. Sure, she had a kinky side that loved me to discipline her, but I didn’t have the right to take it that step further.
Slap! went my hand as I spanked her at the point where her buttock met her thigh.
“Fuck,” she shouted, and I gave her a matching one on her left.
“No cussing.”
“That really hurt,” she complained.
“I know you liked it,” I growled.
“Didn’t,” she mumbled. But her thighs were still spread for me, her glistening pink sex tempting me like nothing had tempted me in my life before. Could I? I raised my hand again, and laid it softly on her ass.
She tensed, then relaxed again when she realized it was a soft touch.
“Think you been punished enough,” I crooned, and began to make soft circles all over her burning flesh with my fingertips. Most of her skin was bright pink, but the roundest part of her cheeks, which had soaked up most of the punishment, was an angry crimson. It was a beautiful sight, her all laid out in the open, her naughty ass bright red and exposed. I stroked her all over, soothing the heat out of her skin, and she sighed softly, relaxing into it, trusting me.
I went around and unbuckled my belt from her wrists.
“You can get up now,” I told her gruffly. Then I stood back and watched as she awkwardly righted herself. She turned to the side as she bent down and pulled her panties and her jeans up. I smirked to myself, knowing how much wetter they would be when they were pressed against her drenched pussy again. She zipped up her jeans, then she turned to me, unable to meet my eyes.
Impulsively, I took her into my arms and hugged her.
I was intending it to be no more than aftercare, but immediately, she reached up for me, her hands grasping at my neck.
I dipped my head down to meet her, and our lips crushed together. Her mouth opened for me, and the more she clung to me, welcomed me in, the deeper I kissed her, my tongue pushing between her lips, hungry to explore her sweet mouth.
When her hand slipped under my shirt, shyly feeling my abs, I couldn’t hold back any longer. My hands slipped under her clothes, too, frantic, cupping her full breasts through the softness of her bra, then plunging down, beneath the waistband of her jeans and her panties, and finally touching her sweet pussy.
She felt silky soft, and holy crap, she was even wetter than I’d imagined. When I cupped her between her thighs, she groaned and pressed her own hand over mine, urging me to go inside. I slipped a finger into her and a sound of pleasure burst from her lips. Still, her hand kept pushing me.
Stunned at her raw need, I pushed a second finger in. Christ, she felt small, so slick, gripping me tight. I began to pump my fingers in and out, sliding on her wetness, and her tongue drove deeper into my mouth and her hips jerked.
She was incredible. I could never have guessed at the hunger that lay inside her perfect little form.
“Harder,” she muttered against my lips. I gave her a third finger. More than anything, I wanted to give her my cock instead, but it was too soon, I knew that. I’d wanted Isabelle Stevens for so long, I wasn’t about to rush things now. Instead, I used my free hand to shuck her jeans down a little to make more space, and fucked her with three fingers.
She shuddered and shuddered, and I felt her legs trembling. Her hips bucked in time with my rhythm, faster and faster, until her pussy convulsed around my hand. I kept kissing her, and she cried out into my mouth as she came, a powerful orgasm rocketing through her small body. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever experienced.
Slowly, I withdrew my fingers; pulled her jeans up again. Her eyes were sparkling, pupils dilated.
“Did I hurt you?” I said, incredulous at how rough I’d been.
But she shook her head, her face lit up with pleasure. “I want you so bad,” she murmured.
“What—” I began to say, uncomprehending that the words had come from her lips.
Before I could finish the question, she dropped to her knees right in front of me.
Her small hand was at my zipper, and suddenly, she’d reached in and pulled out my cock. “Isabelle, not here—” I said. But she shushed me, and in another second, her beautiful, cherry lips had met the engorged tip.
Some distant part of my brain was still saying, No. I cannot let Isabelle Stevens suck my cock, right as she parted her pretty lips and took me into her mouth.
It cost me every last shred of my willpower not to come on the spot as her sweet mouth slid along my shaft. Her jaw was stretched wide, as if she could barely accommodate me, but she kept going. I could feel the velvet of her tongue, then the soft back of her throat, and before I could stop myself, my fingers tangled in her hair, keeping her right where she was, while my hips started to move. She choked a little as I filled her throat, but she didn’t back up.
I was a lot to take, I knew that. But she managed, on her knees in the dirt, her hands gripping my ass and her mouth full of me, while I thrust in and out of her.
“Isabelle.” Her name escaped my lips and she lifted her gaze, and I swear, the heavens just about
fell in. Her eyes were on mine while that sweet mouth of hers stretched wide for me, her hands gripping tight, wanting all I had to give.
I couldn’t hold back any longer. Jaw clenched, I shot my load into the back of her throat.
She pulled away and got to her feet, wiping her mouth on the back of her sleeve.
I zipped up fast, then sat back on the barrel and reached for her. She stumbled toward me and I pulled her into my arms. Her expression was dazed, unfocused. I rubbed my thumb across her small mouth, barely able to believe what had just happened.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” I told her.
Her body stiffened, and she pulled away. “You have?”
I stilled at the tone in her voice. It wasn’t curious or flattered—it was more challenging, but in a way I couldn’t put my finger on.
She looked tight, closed again. Like all the need, desire and yearning in her eyes had been extinguished. “Is everything okay, Isabelle?” I said.
“Everything’s just fine, Joel.” She got up. “I’m cold.”
“Let’s go in.”
I followed her indoors, full of confusion again. It was weird—when I was disciplining her or kissing her, I felt closer to the Isabelle I used to know than the rest of the time, when she felt like a cold stranger.
But I’d seen it in her face—she wouldn’t ever be with me. I was just a stopgap for her while she fixed her life. I’d better get used to that. I was going to give her as much help as she needed, and when she was ready to leave, well, I would just have to let her go.
Chapter 8
Isabelle
Everything was black. I couldn’t breathe. A lead weight pressed on my chest, pushing me down, down towards eternal darkness. The mobsters. They’d gotten me. They were crushing me to death under a truck.
My body jackknifed and air rushed into my lungs—enough air for me to scream.
I sat up, gasping for breath. My heart was pounding hard, and I shook all over as I dragged one lungful of breath into my body after another. I was at Joel’s place. In his little brother’s bedroom. The room was dark, but I could see the curtains drawn across the window. I was safe here, at least for the moment. I rubbed my face. It was coated with a sheen of perspiration, and so was my hair.
