The Polo Prince (Foxworth Stud Ranch Book 4)

by Mia Madison

  “Take your hands off me,” she snarls.

  I squeeze her waist harder and pull her into me. She slams into my wood, making a shard of white light unhinge my brain for a moment. Her breasts crush into my chest as she tries to arch away from me and her eyes snap wide. She gazes at me as though she senses the same shock of heat rising, blazing through her.

  Her tits are rising and falling fast with lust and fury and god knows what other emotional ingredients in her cocktail. The nipples are like a pair of bullets pushing through her tee shirt even though I can tell she’s wearing a bra this time. A bra I need to get off her now. I need her more than I need anything. More than I want to win the Palm Beach Trophy this weekend. I’ve never needed to be inside a woman more fiercely.

  Her eyes are stapled to mine and we stand there in the heat. My horse has found her way direct to a drink and is sucking back the water. I realize we don't have any with us, which was stupid on my part. I have to get Violet out of the overhead sun. Sweat beads are already sliding down the side of her neck into her delicious cleavage. Where I’d like nothing more than to lap them up on the flat of my ravenous tongue.

  I find her hand and although she tries to snatch it away from me, I hold her firm and pull her into the shade of the lean-to porch. She tries to pull back like a resistant filly tugging on the bridle but I’m not letting Violet win.

  “What is with you?” I bark as I pull her arm and she comes flying up against me with even more lusty hunger fueling her stare than before.

  “I don’t dally around with married men.” she snaps, her eyes filling with raging heat of confused loathing.

  I can see she wants to hate me but is having a really fucking hard time with it. What with the need for my cock inside her controlling her body.

  I laugh out load, a roar that makes Don Q look up, then go back to her drinking.

  “I’m not married,” I bark. “Who told you that?”

  “You soon will be though, right? Or does that not count for you? You’re one of these men that thinks commitment comes with the band of gold. And only then if the wife is close at hand to keep you on the leash?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I'm talking about your engagement to Chloe Foxworth.”

  I laugh out loud again.

  “Fuck you’re even more beautiful when you’re jealous. I like to see emotion firing in you instead of that endless calm.”

  “I’m sure you can bring out a whole slew of violent emotions in your women.”

  “Is that what you are? One of my women?”

  “Definitely not.”

  “Let me see.”

  I tip my head down at the same time one hand slides from its grip on her waist. I slide up her back to grasp her loose mane and tug her head back. Then I plant one firm starved kiss on her mouth before trailing a line of kisses down her exposed neck. Then her chest and finally the top of her gorgeous tit still heaving up and down even more rapidly now.

  “Liar.” I tell her when I come back up tall.

  “I – my I” sh stutters, her mouth trembling beautifully so I lean down again and bite her quivering lower lip before sucking it gently into my mouth. I roll it around there like a delicious swill of Malbec.

  When I release her she’s even more discombobulated, staggering so that I have to hold her stable. Then she makes an effort to get herself together, even though she can’t pull away from my firm hold on her.

  “I will not be a mistress or a player,” she insists.

  “That’s the game baby, I’m not engaged to anyone. Never have been never will be.”

  Her face falls in confusion. Like she doesn’t know what to believe but is determined still it’s not going to be me.

  “So you aren't going to marry Chloe?” she mewls.

  “Fuck no. That’s a thing we’re doing – just a deal she and I made.”

  “Strange way to describe your engagement.”

  “We aren’t engaged. Believe me, just this once. I’m here to do some breeding business – no, not like that.”

  She gives me that face and I stroke one finger across the tip of her nose, warning her. And loving the way she startles every time I touch her. Like an electric shock has sparked her nerve endings.

  “Our fathers got it in their heads to fancy a merger. Mine would like one to with an American estate – a family merger. Not that any of the ranches here are big enough for a genuine union with me.

  “Oh,” she says, making her lips so perfectly round I have no choice but to tip down and bite the irresistible plump flesh of the lower one again.

  This time she doesn't fight me but just moans a little against my mouth and curls her fingers around the back of my neck.

  13

  Violet

  It’s actually a good thing that Diego’s hands are firmly clamped around my waist because every time he bends down to kiss me my knees almost give out from under me.

  My head knows he’s spinning me a line about his relationship to Chloe. Why would she agree to something like that? Pretending to be engaged to a man so much older than she is, when she could have anyone? Modesty already told me that Chloe is constantly chased by the sons of other big ranch owners around here.

  My head may know this is all wrong, but my body has it’s own consciousness. All it cares about is Diego’s huge hands encircling my waist like a corset, making me feel petite and helpless under his control.

  I try to fend him off.

  I let him know I’m not so dumb as to buy his player lies. But his mouth on mine is so hot, so irresistible, every cell in my body is craning toward him. Begging for more.

  Every time I shoot him a look to let him know not to mess with me, he merely squeezes me harder. Or playfully swipes my nose with a finger pad like I’m a little girl. I guess Diego della Donna isn't used to being sassed by a woman. Or he thinks women should do what they're told and accept because it comes from male lips. Lush gorgeous ones.

  Then he utters that remark about Foxworth being too small to interest him and I have to laugh. Because if he could see the tiny tract of land in front of my family home he wouldn't even deign to speak to me, never mind put this effort into kidnapping me. He must think I’m one of these rich ranch house girls just because I’m staying here for two weeks on the therapeutic course.

  “I’m amusing you,” he growls.

  “Just that you think only a woman as big as you is good enough.”

  “You like to tease your men,” he says.

  No way I’m admitting I don’t actually have men. Peter hardly counts in either category – ‘having’ or ‘man’.

  “Only when they need bigger boots,” I quip. I can’t help thinking I’m being unusually smart with my comebacks for someone who never gets any practice at it.

  “Okay, little girl,” he warns. His fingers dig into me with longing – but for what?

  “I’m not a little -” I start, but my statement turns into a squeak as he shoves his hand into my waistband and pops open the metal button on my denim shorts. “Hey,” I bluster, but my scalded heart is in the back of my mouth, pounding hard enough to pop right out.

  I realize I’m dripping wet from having his hands on my body. The kisses he’s been dropping have made me wetter and wetter with every tempting meeting of our lips. But this is going too far. What’s he planning to do to me out here in the middle of nowhere?

  Ohmigod, he’s going to yank down my shorts. In a flash they’re pulled over the swell of my hips and he spins me around. Facing out over the endless yellow land stretching to the horizon, I’m pressed forward. I have to reach out my hands fast, to catch myself on the wooden pole that serves as half fence across the length of the porch. Bent forward like that, he inserts his fingers into the waist of my underwear and yanks those down over my ass.

  “Hey,” I squeal again.

  His palm covers my mouth and with the other resting on my bare butt, he leans into my back.

  “Are you telling
me to stop?”

  His hot breath curls against my neck as he growls into my ear. I ought to say yes. Stop this right now. I ought to but I don’t. I can’t. Not if my life depended on it. Bent over like this, my stretched cheeks pull my lips apart just enough. The air on my wetness is making shivers of electricity fire up my legs and arms to gather in my tummy. I feel my clit pushing out from the soaked folds and want nothing more than his hard fingers buried in my wetness.

  “Answer me now,” he orders me. “Because ‘Hey’ doesn't sound like real resistance from a feisty little girl like you.”

  His hand cups around the curve of my ass like he’s feeling the weight of a peach, sizing up its desirability. I feel like I’m losing my mind. Blood swirls in whirlpools all through my body. All I want is him touching me. There are parts of my body that have never been touched by a real man. His hands are so firm, so expert in every movement.

  I need them everywhere, all over me, shoving inside me. I can’t take it any more, the not knowing what it feels like. My body demands his hands covering me, his mouth lapping at my nipples, my pussy.

  His hand leaves my butt cheek and my mouth releases a squeak of complaint. I don’t want him to go. I don't want my panties and shorts pulled up again and for him to walk away laughing at my naive behavior. What would Chloe do? Or Modesty?

  “Oh,” I squeal out loud.

  The slap when it comes is a shock. A hot stinging one. The heat pools on the skin under his palm and then dissipates through my cheek, heading straight for my pussy.

  The initial rage at being slapped by this alpha macho, suddenly, without my permission turns into the filthiest lust. Dirtier than I ever could have imagined. I want Diego’s hand pushing between my inner thighs and sliding straight into the tingling wet folds.

  I want him pinching my clit the way he tweaked my nipple last night. I want his fingers shoving inside me, corkscrewing into my pussy and pummeling the throb of need he’s started.

  My breasts fill with the pressure of desire and one hand lifts from supporting my body to trawl down my neck and chest. I claw at my shirt, wanting nothing more than to rip it open and expose my tormented nipples to the air.

  Diego’s fingers slide up my back, daggering through my hair and gripping it like a mane as he rains down another set of slaps on my raw ass. I’m sure it’s bright red with searing heat but it feels so good. The pain is nothing compared to the pleasure that goes gushing through my clit every time his hand comes damn with a resounding slap.

  “You like that?” he says.

  I think there’s a tinge of surprise in his voice but I’m probably mistaken. Seeing as I can barely focus on the pole I’m gripping for dear life. I try to nod but my head is held firm in his grip. Forcing my chest to lift, making my back arch and my ass tip up to him.

  I shimmy one foot, hoping he doesn't detect how I’m parting my legs a little. Just enough to relieve the pressure of my bulging clit. Just enough to give him a better view of my dripping pussy, hoping he’ll be enticed into more. Into releasing his big bulge and sliding all the way inside me until he hits the barrier. Completing my urgent need to be filled by him.

  Diego knows exactly when to stop slapping my tingling ass. But instead of spreading my crack and pushing between the folds, he slides my underwear back over my ass. He takes great care not to scrape the fabric on the sore redness. Then the shorts go up as well and Diego sits back on a hay bale stacked on the porch, presumably as horse feed. He puts his feet up on the pole fence and grins at me.

  What the fuck?

  I stand up and whirl around to face him, my face blazing as red as my ass.

  “That’s it?” I demand.

  That’s it? I need more than that. He’s left me even more tied up in a knot of needy frustration than before.

  “Is that payback for last night or some shit?” I snap, struggling to fasten my jeans with trembling fingers.

  “Come here,” he orders me.

  I do as he says. My knees wobble like a drunk with every step I take toward him. He zips up and loops the button. Then he pulls me down on his fat thigh so I’m seated across him without having to compress the sore ass cheek.

  I open my mouth to complain at his treatment but he puts one finger on my lower lip. He silences me, gazing at my mouth like he’s starving.

  “I want nothing more than to fuck your delicious wet pussy,” he grits out. “But the cavalry are coming.”

  14

  Diego

  My perfect little Violet scans across the endless horizon and seeing nothing, pouts her delicious lip against my fingertip.

  “No one’s coming,” she whimpers.

  Her bare thighs, exposed right to the fold and laid out across my heavier one are driving me to distraction. I could easily slide under the fabric of her cut off denims and plunge into her tight pussy. The sight of it glistening wet as I spanked her gorgeous round ass had my cock jack-hammering in my pants. And it’s still not calmed even with the threat of new arrivals.

  I almost don't give a shit, I want her so bad. No one can tell me what to do, least of all a bunch of cowboy vigilantes. But no one gets to look at Violet’s gorgeous curves other than me.

  She’s all mine and if I have to wait to make that reality, it’s about time time I learned some patience anyway. It’s never been a character trait I’ve aimed for but Violet’s showed me that waiting can be quite delicious. The slow burn of kissing her and then gradually exposing all the delicious secrets of her body is addictive.

  Clearly she’s never going to believe a word I say, which is an unfortunate leg to start on.

  What am I saying? I don’t care if a woman believes my lines or not – why start now?

  “You’re going to earn yourself another spanking little girl, if you keep contradicting me.”

  “I know I can trust my eyes and no one is anywhere on the horizon.”

  “You got to learn to sense with your feelings. Your sixth sense is far more in tune than the other five which have a tendency to betray you. Haven’t you noticed that?”

  I throw her my filthiest smirk and that loosens her up.

  She smiles back and I can see in her eyes how much she loved me spanking her. And better yet, how much more of me she wants. Those bastard grooms of mine were right – these American women love being spanked. Who knew?

  “That’s what I’m here to do actually,” she mewls, her lip still trembling.

  “Well like I told you last night, you can count on me to teach you.”

  “But I’m not a little girl,” she snips. “I haven’t been that for at least ten years.”

  “What happened ten years ago?” I demand.

  It was a throwaway comment by her, but one I detect holds a lot of meaning. We were interrupted in our conversation last night when lust overcame us both. Maybe I need to just fuck Violet quickly if I really want to get to know her better. Because when I try to talk to her, her body is way too much of a distraction.

  “Something irredeemable,” she whimpers.

  “Is this the event you mentioned last night? That you cant talk about?”

  She nods and her lips disappear inside her mouth as she bites down. I stroke across them, bringing them back, relaxing her.

  “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. I’m here if you ever feel like it though.”

  “I do want to. You already made me come undone today, I’m not sure I can take any more of that.”

  “You know I’ll take care of you every time you do,” I say, before I fucking realize it’s out of my mouth. What the fuck am I promising her?

  I can’t take care of her. I can barely take care of myself and need a huge staff to do so. The bizarre thing is as the resistance comes up so it goes back down. I realize I do want to keep that promise. My hand comes down across the top of her thighs making her tremble. I feel the lust in her and rest my palm there, letting that seep emotion through her. And whatever else it is she’s resisting so hard.
/>   “My parents died,” she whispers.

  I can see it’s the hardest thing she’s ever lived through and the toughest words she’s had to speak. I lean further back against the wooden wall of the cabin and pull her along. I allow her to curl up on my thighs, leaning into my wide shield of chest.

  “Thank you for not saying ‘I’m sorry’ she says. I hate it when people say that. I know they’re being kind but it doesn't help. It only makes me feel even more guilty.”

  “Why are you living with all that guilt?” I ask, recalling she mentioned that last night as well.

  Now she’s talking, the relief is seeping out of her body. I feel it in every pore where she’s nestled against me. The reason I’m a winner is my connection to my horse. We’re like one animal on the field and that’s taught me to sense the emotions rising in humans.

  Whether it’s the loathing from other men, the lust from women, the sensitivity of a girl like Violet, even the still non-visible approach of a man on horseback – all of it is plain to read in the environment.

  “It was my fault,” she murmurs so softly I can feel the horror of that feeling crawling along her skin against my chest.

  I don’t say anything.

  This is not a time for fatuous remarks. I just let her curl into me and stroke along the curve of her back repeatedly. Letting her know I’m here for whatever she needs. Even if that’s just the warmth of a caring human.

  “Oh my god you were right,” she says, jerking her head up to look into the distance.

  I follow her eyeline to where a typhoon of dust miles out on the flat horizon indicates that hooves are pounding into the ground.

  “I’m sorry for doubting you,” she adds sheepishly.

  I grin “Don't think that humble sweet apology is going to get you off the spanking I promised”

  “That’s fine by me,” she says with a dirty little smile.

  “Modesty told me a spanking was the most erotic thing and she’s a hundred per cent right about that.”