“What do you need?” I should have guessed from the tone of his voice that he was goading me into asking for something.
“Please... come...” It was hard to put a sentence together.
“You’re not in a position to be making any demands, little lady. In here, you’re playing by my rules. And I’m going to take my time over you.”
He swatted my ass—a resounding crack with his bare hand that echoed against the walls and made me take a sudden, deep breath. Sharp pain burned into my punished skin and re-lit the fading burn in my rear.
Two of his big fingers plunged into my pussy, warm from spanking me a moment ago, and the fullness where I needed it caused a mini-explosion deep inside me. I moaned, my mouth staying open afterward, and my hips rocked, trying to get him to fuck me with his fingers, but he just held them there.
He swatted my ass again, and it made my sheath gulp around his fingers and clamp down on them. I was so close to coming.
“You’re still trying to take control,” he chided. “Let go.”
Fingers rubbed against my soaking clit. The pressure made me wail. I couldn’t take any more of this. It was too intense. Something had to...
“Come for me, Kinsley. Come on my fingers,” he urged, his movements getting more intense. The pressure tipped over and I exploded in a blinding orgasm.
My voice screamed, my breasts pressed against the leather of the spanking bench, and my thighs shook. Around his fingers, my pussy contracted hard. I had trouble breathing. My whole body grew hot, my toes curled, and showers of heat rushed through me.
He slid his fingers out. I collapsed against the bench, breathing heavily. His hand touched the sensitive skin on my back, and the resulting aftershock made me shiver. The sound of his pants hitting the floor, followed by his shirt, told me he was taking his clothes off.
“Are you ready for my cock?”
I looked up in surprise, although I couldn’t actually see him.
“Did you think this was all about you?” His voice took on an amused, teasing tone. “I’m going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours while you’re tied down and helpless.”
The words reminded me again of my fantasy; a dominant cowboy making me do whatever he wanted me to. Instead of replying, I sighed with need. I’d just come, yet my body was preparing itself all over again.
“Get ready, doll.”
The quiet sound of tearing foil filled the room. It was only a moment later that I felt his hands on my ass, his fingers dancing over the still-warm welts he’d put there.
I held my breath. The heady scent of his masculine musk filled the air. His cock pressed against my pussy. I arched my hips a little. He pressed into me, his hard member so hot it warmed me from the inside out. The size of him was much bigger than I’d expected, and I gasped as my sheath stretched almost painfully. My fists clenched.
“Your tight little pussy is made for this.” His voice resonated through my chest. I was already lost in this world of pleasure and pain. I craved his approval and I didn’t understand why.
He stroked out before plunging back in, hard enough to make me gasp. When he was buried to the hilt inside me, his lower abs brushed against my sore ass. I moaned.
“Is it tender? Did I make your bottom sore?” he teased, and he cupped my butt cheeks with both hands, the unexpected heat radiating straight through my core.
“Yes, sir,” I replied.
“Good.” He started to fuck me, slowly sliding out of my pussy then slamming in hard, tantalizing my senses with the uneven pace. When I couldn’t take any more teasing, I tried to thrust my hips back against him, to make him hurry up, but he gripped my ass cheeks harder. A chafed sensation blistered across the surface of my punished flesh and I squeaked.
“Who’s in control?” he demanded softly.
“You are,” I replied.
“Don’t forget it.” He kept up the maddening pace for several more strokes, and eventually I found myself giving in. He was in charge. I was tied down. He could do anything he wanted to me, here. All I could do was submit to his authority. A real, live cowboy was demanding sex from me and I had to take whatever he decided to do with me.
My pussy flooded with more heat and liquid. Muscles relaxed. It suddenly became a lot easier to take his huge cock. And another orgasm was building.
“That’s it; submit to me.” How did he know what just took place inside my mind? I had no idea. He increased his speed, then, fucking me at a tremendous pace. His huge log stroked against my g-spot, and the bundle of nerves sparked and glowed with desire.
I was going to come again real soon. He was playing my body like a fiddle. The sensations inside me were getting too intense to handle. I arched my back as he fucked me harder. My pussy contracted. Little shots of heat detonated around his cock. A moment later, I fell into the black hole of an orgasm so intense, time stopped.
Every part of me moved instinctively to let the fierce sensations tear through my body. My spine stretched. Fingers squeezed tight. Limbs pulled at ropes. Nipples bucked against leather. My neck bent backward and my mouth was open, but for several breaths, I couldn’t make a sound.
Everything came together again in a split second, and suddenly I was screaming incoherent pleas for him to never stop, while all the nerve endings in my body tingled at the same time.
At the height of my arousal, I felt Clay crash into my ass, the pain of the connection only deepening my orgasm. He stiffened and came with a growl, his cock swelling inside me as he stopped moving. We were so deeply connected, so completely intertwined, it seemed impossible for one of us to exist without the other.
This moment was the only thing that mattered.
Other moments followed it, of course, because time kept moving forward. Somehow we got separated. He untied me. Then I was in his arms, being carried downstairs. Everything came in little flashes, like camera snapshots, and I had no awareness of anything beyond the two of us.
In a room. On the bed. He got in behind me. One moment I was bare, the next, a blanket covered me. His arms wrapped around me. He held me tight, and the connection was almost the same as before. The separation grew, as the world around us faded back into view. It brought a truth I didn’t want to accept.
I was an actress on my way to Hollywood. He was a cowboy who owned a farm in the middle of Arizona. Circumstances were going to pull us apart, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Reality killed the contentment I’d felt, upstairs, when I’d stopped trying to do things and allowed myself to just be. I had a dream, and there was no way I could let myself give it up for a man.
Chapter 5
“I was born with an enormous need for affection—and a terrible need to give it.” — Audrey Hepburn
Clay
Holy shit.
I held Kinsley in my arms, trying to do right by her, because it was my duty to provide reassurances as part of aftercare, but my mind was reeling. It hadn’t been an especially edgy or boundary-pushing first scene, but the connection between us had created the most intense scene of my life.
I knew I needed to go and get water and chocolate for her, but I was completely blasted sideways by everything that just happened. So I just held her, for far longer than I should, ignoring the way my arm lost feeling.
I didn’t want to let her go.
My inner caveman had decided Kinsley would stay here, on this bed, forever, and I would bring her things like food and books, and all those other necessities women needed. Sporadically, I would grab her and fuck her, roughly, proving she was mine and spraying her with my seed, and sometimes I would spank her to tears, just to hold her like this again afterward.
That’s called kidnapping, I reminded myself. I had way too much self-control to ever do anything so crazy. But my inner dominant still yearned to possess her.
I squeezed her against my body and inhaled her hair. She smelled of the soap I kept in my bathroom. Clean, fresh, slightly woody.
“You’re sniffi
ng my hair,” she rasped.
“Smells good,” I replied.
“Oh.”
“Want food?”
“Yes, please.”
I’m not so sure either of us could talk in longer sentences, just then. It took serious effort to pull myself away from her and roll off the bed. Even standing four feet away felt like an endless abyss had sprung up between us.
It raised a problem I didn’t want to consider. Now I’d felt that spark of attraction, that soul-connection between us, I never wanted to let her go. But she was in transit, on her way to somewhere else. Sometime soon, I was going to have to say goodbye. And it would tear me apart.
* * *
Kinsley
I decided it wouldn’t be the worst thing ever if I stayed a few days. It wasn’t like I had an actual audition or anything. Anyway, it was good to be able to charge my phone and wash my hair. That, I told myself, was why I was staying. Nothing to do with the hot cowboy who had shown me something I’d never experienced before.
We spent the rest of the day together, except when he was called away to help with cattle. The great thing about being on a ranch with so many people, it turned out, was that no single person had to work full time. Which meant plenty of time to get to know each other.
“Avocado or peanut butter?” he asked as I lounged in a chair by the kitchen table.
“On toast? Peanut butter.”
“And in sushi?”
“Cowboys aren’t supposed to eat sushi!” I teased. “You’re supposed to eat ribs and barbecue and grits and biscuits.”
“I make the rules, doll,” he teased back in a devastatingly sexy, growly voice. “I can eat whatever I damn well please.”
He leaned in and kissed me, and all talk of food was forgotten.
“Speaking of barbecue, do you want to meet everyone else on the ranch, tonight?” he asked when we broke apart.
I shrugged, not wanting to be antisocial, but reluctant to share my cowboy with anyone else.
“There’ll be beef. My brother, Lawson, makes the best barbecue in the west.”
I narrowed my eyes in mock-suspicion. “Have you tested every barbecue place?”
“Between Lawson and I, we’ve been to more than a few. Can’t say we’ve eaten at them all. Montana comes to mind as somewhere we’ve never been. But I’m not so sure they have the weather for a lot of barbecue up there.”
I had no idea. It seemed impossibly far north, and until my hitchhiking journey, I’d never left Alabama before.
“C’mon, it’ll be great food. And everyone’s real friendly. I’ll bet they’re just dying to meet you.”
“You haven’t told them I’m here?” I guessed.
“Not yet. I wasn’t sure it was anyone’s business who was staying at my house.”
I nodded. “Okay. I’ll come to the barbecue. But I don’t have a dress or anything fancy to wear.”
Now it was his turn to shrug. “This is Arizona. We don’t get dressed up for family meals.”
“Phew.”
“Anyways, that short skirt you’re wearing would be just perfect.”
* * *
Kinsley
The barbecue had gotten started hours ago, judging by the scents wafting in through the open kitchen door. I was more than a little nervous about meeting Clay’s family and friends, but I tried to put that out of my mind as I stood by the door trying to look calm while I waited for Clay.
“Is my skirt too short?” I asked when he arrived.
His gaze lazily wandered down my legs, as he gave me a once-over with an expression of unconcealed lust.
“Looks good to me.” He reached down and squeezed my ass. I squeaked and a flush crept over me.
“Are you going to do that in front of everyone?” I asked, feeling more self-conscious than I ever had in my life.
“Only if I feel like it.” His words made me flush harder and my clit throbbed.
Why was it easy for me to act on stage in front of hundreds of eyes, but this one man could make me a bundle of nerves?
I wanted his friends and family to like me. That was the difference. Because if they didn’t... wait. What was I thinking? I wasn’t staying here!
“C’mon. Cease your worryin’ and let’s go outside.”
“What if they don’t like me?”
He sighed and took my hand.
“They’ll like you just fine, sweetheart. And anyone who doesn’t will have me to answer to.”
I giggled a little at the idea of anyone telling stern, dominant Clay that they didn’t like him.
“Okay.” I wasn’t completely nerve-free, but his optimism reassured me.
Outside, the sun was shining. The warmth hit me right away, even as the sun was beginning to set. After the heat, the next thing I noticed was the smell of cooking beef. I wondered where it was.
“This way.” As though he read my mind, Clay led the way out front, then down the side of the house next door.
The yard had a bright green lawn with a border of flowers planted around the outside. A single lemon tree grew surrounded by grass. I’d never seen a tree with lemons growing on it before, and I had to resist the urge to walk over and touch it, because I half-thought it might be plastic.
To one side, three men talked amiably while they sipped beer near a huge grill, which smoked gently in the early evening breeze. At some fancy wrought-iron patio furniture, two women—one heavily pregnant—sat and talked, occasionally picking at a big bowl of tortilla chips and dipping them in red salsa.
The whole scene was slightly surreal and reminded me of the sort of outdoor parties from TV shows, only with fewer people.
Clay walked me over to the women, first.
“This is Alana, my brother’s fiancée,” he said, waving a hand at the pregnant woman. I gave her a small wave, feeling a little awkward. “And this is Harper, she’s dating Barrett.”
“Who’s Barrett?” I asked, and the women chuckled.
“Over here.” Clay led me away, to where the men stood. “Lawson, my brother. He’s the barbecue expert.”
“Pleased to meet you, miss...?” he looked pointedly at Clay. The two men looked so alike, it was obvious they were brothers.
“Kinsley.” Clay didn’t elaborate any further.
“I’m staying for a day or two,” I mumbled, feeling self-conscious about invading Clay’s home.
“Pleased to meet you.” Lawson held out a hand. After staring at it for a full two seconds, I finally registered that I was supposed to shake it, and I did. His grip was firm and I was in no doubt that he and Clay were equally matched for strength.
“Jake, who takes care of the horses,” Clay indicated a man with dark blond hair and blue eyes that twinkled.
“There ain’t nothing about horses that Jake doesn’t know,” Lawson remarked. Jake shook his head.
“You make it sound like I’m a horse doctor or somethin’,” he muttered.
Clay continued, introducing the third man, whose steely-blue eyes suggested he didn’t stand for nonsense. “And this is Barrett. He’s our cow guy.”
“You’re a cowboy? That’s a real job?” I raised a brow. It seemed so far-fetched.
“Someone has to guide the steers,” he said, looking very earnest although I was certain he was being a little satirical. “Welcome to Lemon Tree Ranch.”
“Thanks, but I’m not staying.”
The men exchanged a knowing glance then burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” I asked Clay.
“That’s what Alana said. Months ago. And I’m pretty sure it’s what Harper said two months later.”
I glanced over at the two women, who were talking like they’d known each other forever.
“We think there’s something lucky in this year’s crop of lemons,” Lawson added, winking at Clay.
“This place is called Lemon Tree Ranch, so it makes sense,” Clay replied. “Do you want a drink of something?” He turned his attention on me and every
one else faded away for a moment. My pulse raced and my lips parted when I gazed up at him.
“Drink? Uh...” I flailed to keep track of the question or how to answer it.
“Lemonade?” he prompted.
“Oh. Uh... sure. Yes, please.”
“You got any more of that lemonade, Law?” He turned back to his brother and I took a moment to catch my breath. Clay was so intense, he made it difficult to think every time he looked at me a certain way.
“Sure. In the refrigerator.” Lawson gestured toward the house.
“Go sit down, I’ll get you something.” Clay indicated the table where the women sat, then he walked off.
In a slight daze, I wandered over to them and sat down. Alana and Harper looked at me like they were trying to decide what to say.
“Hi,” I said, in the least interesting conversation starter possible.
“I didn’t catch your name. Clay seemed too interested in showing you to everyone,” Harper said, and I couldn’t interpret her tone.
“Kinsley.”
“What brings you here?” Alana asked. She was definitely the warmer of the two. Harper seemed a little prickly.
“I was hitchhiking, and Clay offered me a place to stay for the night. I’ll be gone soon.”
“Hitchhiking?” Both women looked shocked.
“You got a death wish?” Harper asked.
“No. I just can’t afford a car,” I replied, taken aback by her tone.
Clay put the lemonade down in front of me.
“Here.” His voice reassured me, even if Harper didn’t like me, he did. And he was the only one whose opinion I cared about.
“Thank you,” I said in a little voice.
“I’m going to go help the men with cooking that meat. Try those tortillas.” He kissed me on the forehead and I flushed again, surprised by the show of affection out in public. He was gone, and I held my drink to my face, pretending to take a long sip, to avoid looking at the other two.
“Are you pregnant, too?” Alana asked softly.
My eyes bugged and I lowered my drink. “No. Why?”
Take Me Hard: Arizona Heat 3 Page 5