Night Watch (Texas Cowboys Book 6)

by Delilah Devlin

  “Jesus! Fuck! Amy…”

  “Don’t stop…please, oh please…” She kissed the mark she’d left on his skin, licked his neck, nipped his chin and clawed, reaching for the climax he was delivering in steady, jerking thrusts.

  His breaths rasped, turning to grunts as he hammered harder, pushing air from her body in equally animalistic gusts.

  She didn’t care how she sounded, couldn’t stop her frenzied kisses and scratches. She was there. There. “Logan!” she shouted.

  Her face tightened. She forgot to breathe. The moment the wave crashed over her, he swept her away, right out of herself, hurling her toward heaven.

  When she came back, her head was thrashing, and his face was buried in her neck, his body rocking with hers and trembling.

  A sob shook her, and she hugged him closer. Her fingers loosened, and she stroked his back, up and down, as his movements slowed then stopped.

  He sagged against her, still locked inside her body as her pussy caressed his long shaft with convulsions that gradually faded.

  Both of them breathing hard, they lay locked together. Amy wiped her wet cheek on his sweaty shoulder. He mumbled something unintelligible, and his arms dug beneath her to cradle her against him.

  She must have zoned out for a moment. When she opened her eyes, she found him staring down at her, a satisfied smirk curving one side of his mouth. “Damn,” he breathed.

  Amy blinked, and then stared at the dark pink teeth marks she’d left in his shoulder. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”

  He let loose a sound that was a perfect morph between a grunt and a laugh. “Damn.”

  “Was it all right for you?” she asked, cringing at how sophomoric that had to sound to a man like him.

  He blew a deep breath between his lips, and then reached behind him to unlatch her legs from his back. He pushed them down, lifting slightly to allow them to stretch straight on either side of his. “Am I crushing you?” he asked softly.

  She shook her head. “I’m a big girl, remember? I like this, too.” She didn’t miss the fact he hadn’t answered her. Part of her atom-bomb afterglow faded to a pale, glimmering nightlight.

  Logan groaned, and his back arched. He slid a hand between them, and caught the end of his condom before he slipped out of her.

  Then he rolled to his back.

  Amy lay beside him, listening to his labored breaths, feeling abandoned, and afraid she might start to cry. Why she felt so deeply, she couldn’t have explained, least of all to herself. The sex had been amazing. She’d gotten so much more than she’d hoped for.

  But she was greedy. She wanted his approval. Wanted a sign of affection from him. She knew she’d probably scare him half to death if she put her feelings to words.

  His arm landed just above her head. “Come here.”

  Amy sighed and rolled toward him, happier the instant his arm brought her against his body. She lifted her leg over her hips and slid her arm across his chest. Snuggling her cheek against the damp hair on his chest, she could at last enjoy the feeling of connection she so badly needed.

  His chest rose then slowly fell. He took her hand, threaded his fingers through hers, and raised their joined embrace to his mouth, kissing the back of her hand. “It was good for me, too, baby.”

  Chapter 6

  Logan woke, feeling chilled. Amy had left his bed. For a moment, he froze, wondering if she’d left without saying a word, and if he’d blown it.

  He’d wanted to romance her. Bring her along slowly. Build her need for his touch in gradual levels until she was ready for him to begin to introduce her to the lifestyle he felt instinctively she was made for.

  Instead, he’d pounded her like a high school kid who’d gotten his first taste of pussy and couldn’t control the hormones raging through him.

  He should have known he’d run into trouble. The night he’d brought Sarah and Joe here, Joe had taken one look at his cock and laughed. His cock had hardened fast, leaving him breathless and trembling with excitement as soon as he’d chucked his pants in front of the window…because he’d known Amy was watching.

  Control had always been important to him. Not only because he liked to think his brain was the one in charge, but also because at critical moments in his relations with a woman, he needed restraint to prevent harm. He was a big guy and in top shape. Restraint wasn’t a choice but an imperative. He’d left bruises on Amy. He’d known it when he’d cupped her buttocks and slammed into her. He’d crammed himself into her so fast, so hard, he knew she’d be sore today.

  The thought should have shamed him, but instead he felt only a primal satisfaction as his unruly cock thickened and lengthened, rising again despite his conscience’s urgings for a little self-control.

  He knew he was a long way from being ready to train Amy when he couldn’t manage his own raging hard-on.

  But where the hell was she?

  He rolled out of bed, his feet hitting the floor. He stalked toward the open bathroom door. The room was empty now but filled with steam. Another towel lay on top of the laundry basket. So, she’d showered.

  Logan strode out of the bedroom and cocked his ear. He heard faint stirrings in the playroom. A smile tugged at his lips. While he’d been arguing with himself about putting the brakes on that aspect of his sexuality, Amy was plainly curious. He slowly turned the doorknob and cracked the door.

  What he saw made his cock pulse. So much for his vaunted control.

  Amy was gloriously naked and standing on the metal footings of the St. Andrews Cross. Her ankles were strapped into the buckles. She’d also moved the arm shackles up the wooden structure, refastening bolts and lug nuts behind the frame to move them up to suit her height. She had one hand resting in a padded leather manacle.

  She’d also had found the black hood he’d used on Sarah. She’d rolled it down her face, keeping her lips and mouth free.

  He padded quietly across the floor to stand in front of her. Her head turned. Maybe she’d heard a slight sound, but the way she nibbled on her bottom lip said she wasn’t sure.

  He lifted a hand and ran a fingertip around one rosy areola.

  “Logan?” she asked, uncertainty shaking her voice.

  “Worried it might be someone else?”

  “I wasn’t sure if it was Logan or…Master.”

  Logan stood still, his chest expanding, his cock growing steely. “What’s your preference, baby?”

  “I don’t want you thinking I’m some lightweight,” she whispered.

  “I don’t.”

  “I don’t want you thinking of me as only a vanilla kind of girl.”

  “You aren’t?” he murmured, reaching up to close the last shackle. The crisp rasp of Velcro closing and the jangle of the buckle acted like the fiercest aphrodisiac on his libido. If Amy could see his face tightening, his muscles flexing now, she might have had cause to rethink her naïve plan to seduce him.

  “Maybe I don’t want what I’ve had before,” she said, her voice sounding a little forlorn.

  “I didn’t frighten you before? I wasn’t very gentle.”

  She drew a swift breath. “I loved it. But I frightened myself. I bit you. And you have ugly scratches all over your back.”

  He growled as he rotated his shoulders, enjoying the burn. “I can feel them now. Every time I flex. I love it. Means you lost control. That makes a man feel…powerful.”

  Her lips twisted into a smile. “Funny, that’s just the adjective I associate with you.”

  Logan stepped close enough his cock pressed against her mons. “See what you do to me? That’s powerful. I usually have more control. I pride myself on it. Are you sure about putting yourself in my care?”

  “Can I be a little afraid?” she asked in a little voice.

  “Fear is healthy. It can also be sexy as hell.”

  Her chest expanded slowly. “I want this. Please.”

  “Do you think this is all whips and crosses?”

  “No. I did a little r
esearch. After I watched you. I wanted to understand.”

  “Research?” he smiled. Well, so had he. The romance novel he’d bought had given him a blueprint to follow—flowers, dinner, a rose-petals strewn bed—but he hadn’t counted on his own impatience, or more surprisingly, hers.

  He cleared his throat. “When I’m ‘Master’,” he said, removing any trace of his amusement from his voice, “you can’t speak unless I allow it.”

  Her lips firmed.

  Seemed she was ready to start right now. “This is a process. Not one that can be accomplished in just one night.”

  “It will take longer?” She didn’t sound the least bit sorry to hear that.

  “A long process,” he purred. “I can guide you, if you like.”

  Her lips crimped. Suppressing a smile, perhaps? “Please, Master,” she replied in her prim, schoolteacher voice.

  “You’re still talking,” he said, reaching up to pinch a nipple.

  “Oh! Then we’ve already started?”

  “Sure you want to?”

  She swallowed, wet her bottom lip with her tongue, then nodded.

  Logan couldn’t help himself. Her mouth was still slightly swollen from his earlier kisses. It pouted. Already, he knew how much a kiss went toward soothing her. He leaned forward and brushed her lips.

  Her sigh was soft, warm, entering his mouth a moment before her tongue did the same. He sucked on it then slid his own inside her mouth to taste her sweet breath again as it sighed into him.

  When he pulled away, his erection was painfully hard. His balls drew up against his groin. “May I pull this hood the rest of the way down?” he asked, not waiting for an answer, wanting to stave the temptation to kiss her again, but missing her expressive mouth as soon as soon has he’d covered it.

  He walked to the wall where his floggers, whips, and other wanded implements were mounted. He chose a flogger with supple suede flanges and a tickler with soft, silken bristles. From a drawer beneath the display, he pulled a small narrow plug and a tube of lubricant. He brought them to her, along with a folding table and set it beside her, laying down the tools for her pleasure carefully and silently.

  He glanced at Amy, standing so still, her body tense, poised to accept anything he wished to do. From the start, she’d been eager to be led.

  Schoolteacher was a dream come true. Better than he’d imagined. Malleable, passionate. Eager to serve and to be pleasured.

  Tonight, he’d give her a very gentle introduction, but he didn’t doubt she wouldn’t think so. She hadn’t a clue, no matter how much research she’d done. She couldn’t comprehend the trust between a Dominant and his submissive. She might understand some of the practices and think she wanted to learn the intricacies of the perversions, but he was learning that she did have limits. And she had defied him. In her way.

  She’d balked at being shaved.

  In the end, her soft mons had delighted her. But because he’d been in a hurry to bury his cock inside her, he really hadn’t given her a reward for her obedience or shown her how much more sensation she would feel without that silky cloak of hair.

  He’d remedy that shortly.

  “I know I told you I wouldn’t play with one tiny entrance. But since you seem so eager to begin training…”

  Amy’s chest quivered on a shallow breath.

  “I’m going to insert a plug. Something very small to begin stretching you, readying you for my cock. Don’t worry that I’ll get too eager and try to rush you. I promised not to hurt you, and I know that earlier I didn’t keep that promise very well, but in this you can trust me.”

  He picked up the soft, plastic plug and lubed it with his fingers, then knelt between her legs. Her sex was moist, but not nearly as wet as he would have liked. He needed her deeply aroused.

  He rubbed his fingers over her mound, enjoying the softness and the appearance of her pale creamy skin and reddened pussy. Then he slid his fingers between her raw folds and rubbed her clit.

  Again, her pretty little tits quivered, the stems beginning to draw into taut points. He trailed along her damp folds, dipping inside to swirl in her honeyed depths, penetrating as far as his fingers could reach and drawing down more fluid.

  He needed a taste. Just a quick one. He rose slightly, and opened his mouth to suckle her smooth labia, teasing the edges with lazy drifts of his tongue, then thrusting into her and lapping upward to glaze her clit.

  Her body trembled, and her thighs hardened.

  Tracing his fingers lower, he rubbed along her sensitive perineum, ignoring her gulping breaths, and, at last, arriving at his destination.

  He parted her buttocks, widening them to stroke two fingers around and around her tight entrance. He dipped inside, just one fingertip, and her anus closed hard around him, trying to eject it.

  Logan brought the narrow tip of the plug to her entrance and inserted it, twisting it to deposit some of the lubricant on her tight ring. Then he pushed it slowly inward.

  Her breaths came faster, shallower.

  Carefully, he pulled it out then pressed it a little deeper, still twisting, then rolled it in a widening circle to ease her tight grasp.

  Logan gritted his teeth against the strength of his own arousal, rising hard, tensing his thighs and filling his cock to the point of pain. He could already imagine how he’d feel, sliding into her ass, the ring gripping him tighter than any cock ring he’d ever cinched around the base of his shaft.

  But she was a long way from being ready for that. He’d promised.

  He withdrew the device, and slipped the metal tip of the tube into her opening and squeezed more lube directly inside her.

  Amy moaned. It was a tiny, wounded, desperate sound, but still she held her words.

  “I know this is uncomfortable. A tight fit. I’m going to push it back inside, and I won’t stop, but you have to do something to make it easier. You have to trust me. You have to relax and allow me to do it. You have to take charge of your body. Overrule the natural urge to resist the intrusion. Can you do that? Nod if you can.”

  It didn’t come quickly. Several quivering breaths moved the hood over her mouth, but then it came. A slow, definite nod.

  Logan kissed her thigh and bent closer again. Gently, he placed the plug against her entrance and pushed inward.

  The first couple of inches entered easier than before, but as its shape broadened, he could feel resistance again. “Easy,” he whispered. “Let me in, baby. Don’t fight. You’re mine to do with as I please. This pleases me very much.”

  As the broadest part of the plug slid past the ring, he exhaled, relieved he’d gotten her this far. The narrowing at the base would keep it in place while he played. “All done,” he said, straightening. “That will stay there until I take it out.”

  Logan stood, returning the lube to the tray, and then took a long drink of the sight of Amy Keating.

  Her body was taut, her hands fisted above the shackles.

  He didn’t like that she was nervous. He slicked his hand over her smooth mound and thrust two fingers inside her, curving them upward as he toggled her clit with his thumb.

  A tiny, thready moan seeped from her, and he continued to finger her, watching closely to catch the subtle changes in her breathing and the deepening flush of color that painted her chest.

  “Have I told you how beautiful your body is?”

  Her breath caught, but she held her tongue.

  “Your length is a perfect match for mine. I like that I don’t have to bend very far to kiss you. I like that when I pull your hips into mine, my cock ruts against your sex.”

  He came closer and glided his lips along the top of her shoulder. “You’re so tall, I can fuck you standing, without lifting you. Want me to prove it to you, now?”

  Her nod was swift, her breaths faster, rasping, billowing against the black fabric.

  “I will. But not quite yet. You wanted to know what it was like to taste the flick of one of my floggers. I’ve chosen the s
oftest I own, because I don’t want you alarmed. Has anyone ever used one on you? Has anyone spanked you?”

  A sideways jerk of her head was all she could manage. His fingers, soaked in her arousal, were a more convincing answer.

  Her body tensed, her hips flexing forward and back in the tiniest pulses to draw on the fingers fucking into her.

  He withdrew his fingers, slid his cock along her folds, and glided forward and back. “I’m hard. If I wasn’t, I would have wanted you to suck on it, to unfurl it with your mouth.”

  He drew back, picked up the flogger and draped the leather strands over her shoulder and pulled it downward, gliding it over her pebbled nipples. Then he pulled it away and gave her nipple a light slap. Not even enough to leave her skin pink, and yet she jerked against the bindings.

  He flicked the tail against the other nipple, just a little sharper, and she grunted.

  He slapped her belly then her hips, flicked the tail at her thighs and brought it between her legs to lash upwards, stinging her pussy.

  Amy’s back bowed, her belly undulated, curving upward, her thighs straining to widen, inviting another lash, which landed at the center of her pussy.

  Logan reached between her legs, soothing the stinging flesh with his fingers swirling over her lips. While she’d been wet before, now honey trickled along the inside of one thigh.

  Laying down the flogger, he picked up the silky tickler and worked it like a painter’s brush, stroking her breasts, her belly, and then brushing lightly over her mound.

  He parted her with his thumb and forefinger and twisted the soft bristles over her clit.

  Amy’s thighs shivered and her hips rocked, stroking toward the wand.

  “While I’m sure your research was extensive, I’m wondering if you understand what motivates a person to choose to be the way I am, or to choose to serve a man like me. It’s not about the kink. Not really. I’m a man, and smelling your arousal, feeling the slick moisture building in your sex, that’s enough to make me hard. Sliding inside your tight little cunt is enough to make me come.”

  He tossed down the wand and undid her restraints, catching her when she sagged toward him. He carried her to the floor, pressing her down until she leaned on her hands, her knees braced apart.