The Climax Montana Complete Collection

by Reece Butler

  The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. He jostled her when he reached for more, but she didn’t mind. His other hand held her snug and secure, as if he never wanted to let her go. Untrue, of course, as he would be gone in a few weeks. But now that she’d experienced this feeling of safe contentment, she’d never forget it. She was an adult now, a medical doctor, not a helpless child.

  He placed the square on her tongue. Their eyes locked. A sexual spark arced between them. Yes, she wanted the comfort and security he could provide. But she also wanted the determined man who’d chased, and caught her.

  Her heart sped up as she remembered the thrill of being chased. Knowing she would be caught, but not what would happen because of it, was exhilarating. The adrenaline rush from running, then fighting, had morphed into arousal. Chocolate had fed it.

  Did Eric the Barbarian have a soft side?

  His muscles, both under and around her, weren’t soft. Neither was his expression. Or the rod pressing so insistently against her sore bottom. The spanking had hurt like the dickens at first, enraging her every time she felt another sting. When she realized he was not going to stop—unless she used the word she’d promised herself not to—the pain had changed. When she accepted her submission to his will, an erotic thrill had enveloped her. It was still there, throbbing in the background, ready to erupt.

  “You going to share some of that chocolate, pet?”

  His eyes aimed at her mouth. There was still a tiny bit of a lump left on her tongue. Her body ached for more than his embrace. She opened her mouth, letting her tongue rest on her bottom lip, the top barely protruding.

  She felt his rumble of approval before she heard it. He captured her tongue with his mouth, sucking it in, stealing the chocolate. His kiss swept her away, obliterating everything but the moment.

  He broke for air, holding her against his heaving chest. She was in the same shape, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen. Or maybe it was the surge of lust that made her head spin.

  And then she was spinning as he came to his feet, still holding her, and turned. She was content to be held and carried like a child to bed. She had no memories of such a thing. Her mother would have held her as a baby, but once Marci joined them, Nikki was no longer a child. Marci’s children would know this feeling.

  “Rest for a bit.” He set her tender bottom on the middle of the mattress.

  After being curled up for so long, she needed to move. She stretched her arms over her head and pointed her toes. Though he’d laid her across the bed, neither her fingers or toes touched the edges of the mattress. The bed must be eight feet wide!

  His hand closed over her left wrist, distracting her. He kissed her palm, closing his fingers over the kiss. She sighed at the sweet gesture, unsurprised when he did the same with her right.

  “Don’t move,” he ordered.

  She relaxed her arms, languid after her emotional storm and the cuddle that had followed. His hand grasped her right ankle, separating it from her left. He’d removed her skirt, and she resisted being exposed.

  “No, pet,” he said sternly, “I want you spread wide.”

  Though she spent long hours on her feet, his arms were stronger than her legs. He easily separated her legs until she was as open as a wishbone, naked from the waist down. He leaned over the bed, pushing her ankles into the mattress as if making a point. This was no comforting man, concerned about her tears. He was a barbarian who’d conquered a woman and would now enjoy the spoils. She trembled at his intensity. Her nipples tightened. She moved slightly, making them scrape the lace edging her bra.

  “Will you hold this position as ordered, or do I have to restrain you?”

  “Restrain?”

  “Take a closer look at the bed.”

  She craned her neck. She’d done little more than glance at the four-poster as she’d raced through the room on her way to the deck. A pair of startled cats had looked up. They were nowhere to be seen, having no doubt fled with her screams.

  The bed looked like the one in Eric’s house in town, only bigger. The thick wooden posts were again attached to the ceiling. She looked closer. These posts had eyebolts screwed into them. So did the headboard.

  On the wall beyond her left hand was a series of pegs. Chain, the type she’d seen in ranch supply stores, hung from them. Some were galvanized, some were coated. A shelf held pairs of black leather cuffs in various sizes. Some had Velcro straps, while others had silver buckles.

  Beyond them was a stand-alone closet about three feet wide. It wasn’t very deep. It reminded her of the one in Aggie’s bedroom, except this had a combination lock while Keith had used a key. Her nipples crinkled even tighter. She found herself squeezing her Kegels, clutching at nothing.

  She looked around the room with a new awareness. Beside a five-drawer highboy dresser was a sturdy overstuffed chair with a high, upholstered back. Eric had threatened to bend her over a chair like that and take her from behind. She licked her lips and moved on. A pile of floor pillows sat next to a swinging basket chair in the far corner. It hung from a giant bolt secured into the ceiling. Filled with pillows, the chair looked like a comfortable place to curl up in. It had a large clip on top, one that would make it easy to remove and replace it with something else. Would Eric show her what that “something else” was?

  At the foot of the bed was the bench where Eric had spanked her. The folded bedcovers had made the padding she’d kicked and pounded against.

  “You have a choice, pet.” Eric’s rumble grabbed her attention. “Do I get out the chains, or will you hold this position?”

  He was giving her a choice. An easy one.

  “I won’t move.”

  He nodded abruptly but didn’t reply. His eyes stared right between the apex of her thighs. His nostrils flared as he inhaled. Her pussy ached to be touched. She clenched it, trying to press her thighs closer together without seeming to move.

  “Have you used those chains on other women?”

  “Matt and I built this bed about fifteen years ago. You’re the first woman who’s been in it.” He straightened, releasing her legs.

  “No females here in ten years?”

  “I said no women. Matt’s cats are both female. To answer the question you really wanted to ask, neither Matt nor I have been with any of the local women.” His brows furrowed for a few seconds. “Correction. I wasn’t abstinent back then, and Matt had a pretty good time until he left the rodeo, but all that was before we built this bed.”

  “Are you saying Matt hasn’t had sex in fifteen years?”

  “Maybe, but that’s his story to tell. I’ve had a long dry spell.”

  “How long?”

  “At least a year. Maybe almost two.”

  “I thought single men wanted sex all the time.”

  “This single man only wants good sex. I won’t waste my time unless my woman is intelligent, beautiful, fascinating, and has a touch of cantankerous. Someone Gabe Downey would have called uppity, just like great-grandma Sarah Frost.”

  She wasn’t necessarily intelligent, but could memorize like crazy. That, and too many hours of studying, had gotten her to, and through, med school. Beautiful was the wrong word for her, though she agreed she wasn’t ugly. And how could she be fascinating when she’d done little but study and work?

  “‘Cantankerous’?”

  “Stubborn and opinionated, like a mule,” he explained.

  “You’re comparing me to a mule?”

  He came closer, reminding her with his eyes not to try to escape.

  “Mules are smarter than horses,” he said. “Horses can be pushed into doing things that can kill them, and you. Mules think first, and if they don’t like it, you will know. Lift up.”

  She did as ordered, behaving like a horse, she told herself. He removed her sweater quickly but took his time with her bra. When he tossed it aside, both lace cups had damp circles and her nipples were tight and wet. The breeze wafting past kept them taut.

&nbs
p; Eric stared down at her as if she was his prize to take, dominating and arousing her with silent promises. He hauled his shirt over his head in one movement and tossed it aside. Without looking away he stepped on the toe of his sock with the other foot and pulled it off, then repeated the movement. He winced, undid his buckle and top button, and reached into his jeans. Whatever he did must have helped as he kept his jeans on. She knew what was inside, waiting to fill her aching pussy.

  She wasn’t sure what had happened when he spanked her, but after her tears dried she felt newborn. He’d caused her pain. So had others, if not physically. But he was the only one to comfort her, to soothe her, and to make her feel safe.

  She lay on her back with hands and feet wide, naked, her nipples jutting from swollen breasts. Those breasts moved with every panting breath she took. She pressed down on her heels and arched her hips. The sheet under her must already be damp.

  He made a growling noise, like an animal. A barely restrained beast who, when he broke free, would take her, even though she cried out, because he wanted her so much.

  “Are you ready to submit to me, wholly and completely?”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  He sounded like he had gravel in his throat. Nikki cleared her own before replying.

  “I said I’d obey you in bed. I refuse to be a submissive robot.”

  She tensed as his fingers curled into fists. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her. Perhaps he did it to keep from reaching for her. She caused him to act this way. Big Nikki Meshevski, the ugly goose. That’s what they called her at one school, that she was too ugly to be a duckling.

  But Eric didn’t see that girl. He saw only the woman spread before him. One he thought beautiful. The one he wanted. It would be only for a few weeks, but she would savor her memories.

  He approached in slow, measured steps. He was so big, so overpowering, that she couldn’t get enough air. Her respiration sped up, along with her heartbeat. He touched her chin with his finger, guiding her head to face his. His movements seemed calm, but she saw the tension in the lines around his eyes and mouth.

  “I don’t want a robot,” he said crisply. “I want you. Uppity, argumentative, Doctor Nikki Meshevski. I respect and honor who you are, and how you came to be this way. I’m a dominant man. I want a woman who’ll stand up to me and fight back, not one who shrinks away in fear. My woman will want me to take her hard when I need it.” He drew the back of a knuckle over her cheek. “And she’ll also enjoy my brother’s form of loving.”

  His words soaked into her soul, a balm against too many insults. She’d seen how Aggie and the other women were respected for being strong and working hard, yet also cherished for having a softer femininity. But she never expected anyone to care for her that way.

  “Is that you, Nikki?” he said, his voice low and tender. “A woman who can both rule at work, and obey her man? If not, I’ll release you, take you home, and not bother you again.” He gestured at her body, laid out like a buffet for his enjoyment. “Or do you choose to obey me, and have this?”

  “Yes. I want you!”

  She hadn’t known how tense he was until he relaxed. It was only a second or two before he closed his expression down, but she’d seen it. His vulnerability, under the outward show of strength and power. He was no bully, but a complex man with needs that met her own.

  “Very good.”

  “I’ve never promised to obey anyone before,” she blurted. “It’s…uncomfortable to give up control. To be like this.” She lifted her hands a fraction of an inch.

  “Good,” he replied. “I want you to feel on edge. You don’t learn anything when you’re comfortable. And you, sweet pet, have a lot of learning to do.”

  His voice was calm, far more at ease than a few minutes ago. She, only the other hand, was getting more apprehensive by the moment. She wanted to say he also had a lot to learn, but this wasn’t the best time to mention it. Later, when she was free and clothed, she would tell him. Maybe.

  He set his fists on the mattress, bracketing her shoulders, and stared at her. Stern. Unyielding. Commanding. Hot fluid pooled between her legs.

  “While we are in this relationship, I will protect and provide for you. That is what a man does for his woman and their family. It’s the woman’s role to nurture her men and children, creating a home for them.”

  She licked dry lips. This was Eric the Barbarian talking. A few hundred years ago a man like this would have had the power of life and death over her. His eyes, the harsh planes of his face, and his corded muscles made her believe nothing had changed. Being owned by a man like this, owned and cherished, would have ensured a woman a far better life than one spent as a wife. Back then many wives were beasts of burden, forced to give birth yearly as part of the farm’s crop of animals. Their lives were short, brutal, and full of pain, injury, and disease.

  She, however, could choose to have this barbarian as her lover. He would meet her needs, as well as his own, but she would always be safe. One word, and he would stop. He might be the master, but she held the power.

  “I’m not like Marci,” she warned. “I have no interest in those homemaking things.”

  “You’ll have to make up for that deficiency in other ways.” The eyes straying over her body showed exactly what he meant. “Matt’s a decent cook, and likes doing it when he has time, so I think he’ll agree with that. If,” he added, giving her a speaking glance, “you please us both.”

  She couldn’t think of a reply fast enough.

  “The woman is the center of a home, Nikki. Even if she never cooks, cleans, or does the laundry. This isn’t about who does what chores, but who is what. I am the leader. Matt is the ranch boss. You, being deliciously feminine, follow that lead, and obey me.”

  “I won’t have you telling me how to run my life. And my job—”

  “You will continue to be the best doctor that Climax has seen,” he said, interrupting. “You are mine, and I take that responsibility very seriously. Your job is part of who you are. I will not interfere unless I believe it’s necessary. It will be different when we are together.” His eyes darkened as his nostrils flared.

  “It will?” She swallowed.

  He leaned over her again. His palms grazed the tips of her nipples. She arched her back, wanting his mouth on them.

  “When we are together, sweet Nikki, you will give yourself to me,” he said, quiet and sure. “Whenever and however I want. That is not negotiable.”

  His I-am-going-to-hold-you-down-and-make-you-scream look almost shut off her brain. Blood flowed to swell more important places, such as her breasts and pussy.

  “You mean sex?”

  His nod was slow and deliberate. “You will not deny me. Ever. I’ll know when you are really too tired.” He pinched her nipple. The jolt caught her by surprise, zinging straight to her clit. “Or when an orgasm will clear your mind and help you sleep. You will not wear anything under your skirt. And you will be wearing skirts a lot,” he added. “Unless we are in town, when we are in the truck you will keep your pussy easily available. You will spread your legs so I can reach over and feel how wet and eager you are.”

  Nikki creamed at his words. She, who rarely wore a skirt, and that well below her knees, felt her pussy spasm at the thought of being on display to him.

  All her life she’d wanted to be loved. Eric didn’t love her, of course, but he would cherish and care for her. In return, she must give him her trust, which included doing whatever he wanted. It didn’t sound that bad when it meant she would be nurtured by a man who put her needs first, even if she disagreed with him.

  A fingertip traced its way from her belly to her pussy. Like Pavlov’s dogs salivating at the sound of a bell knowing food was coming, his touch had her pussy throbbing. His finger easily slipped between her folds. His eyes blazed. When he removed his finger it glistened.

  “Are you choosing to submit to my leadership, Nikki? To trust that I will care for you, and in return obey me?”


  He traced her lip with his wet finger. She opened, and accepted him. She sucked her essence. He nodded in approval.

  “If I don’t like what you say, I’ll fight back,” she warned.

  “I’ll look forward to that.” He kissed her forehead. “Thank you for your trust. I will give you what you need, even if you fear it.” His lips trailed along her neck like a fuse lighting a fire. “You won’t have to tell me what you need. I listen and watch. Though you fought and cried when I spanked you, I smelled your arousal.”

  “There’s a part of me that wants to serve you, to have you…”

  She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, hesitating to say the words out loud. She’d agreed to trust him. That meant telling him what she was learning to realize she craved.

  “Tell me, pet.”

  “To have you reach out and haul me close for a deep, demanding kiss, just because you want to,” she whispered. “Or to tighten your fist in my hair as you force me to my knees and”—she took a breath—“and fill my mouth with your cock.”

  “It’s good that you want those things, because you are going to get them.” He placed his hand around the nape of the neck, his thumb and fingers snug against each side of her throat.

  “You will grow out your hair for me. But until then, this will do.”

  He tightened his grip for a moment, just enough for her to feel the difference in control. Not to stop her breathing, but to prove his strength. She knew he could snap her neck with his hands. But though he would let her think he might, in order to arouse her, he would never harm her. The spankings hurt, of course, but she’d learned the sting was temporary, soon turning to pleasure.

  He released her and trailed the backs of his fingers along her belly, as light as butterfly wings. She tensed, twitching when he brushed over extra-sensitive areas. She wanted him to touch her clit, not skate around it.

  “What do you think of the Circle C?”

  It took her a moment to reconnect. She was aroused and wanted hot sex. Now.