The Cowboy's Secret (Cowboys After Dark: Book 3)

by Maggie Carpenter

  “I know that now, I should’ve thought about it more.”

  “Yep, ten real hard ones now, then we’re done,” he proclaimed, and swept his palm upwards from the base of her cheeks with significant force.

  “OOOWWW!” she cried, kicking out her feet.

  Lifting his leg he placed it over the back of her knees, then continued the slow, rhythmic swats, silently counting to three between each one, allowing the sting to resonate. Finally finished he rubbed her scorched skin, gently fondling away the harsh sting.

  “I wasn’t gonna spank you that hard,” he said tenderly, “but I realized just how bad it was, what you did. I get the justification, but darlin’, it was real bad.”

  “I know,” she sputtered. “You’re right, thank you for, uh, oooh,” she wiggled.

  “What?” he frowned continuing to caress her.

  “It’s just weird thanking you for spanking me like that,” she confessed, “but I feel it, the gratitude I mean.”

  “I know, darlin’,” he sighed, and helping her up he laid on the bed and cradled her next to him.

  “Oh, man, my butt really hurts,” she groaned.

  “That is the idea,” he replied. “It’s done now, and I think we’ll be laughin’ about that whole thing one of these days.”

  “I’m sure we will, but you’re right, it was really stupid.”

  “Just rest a minute now,” he purred. “Let me know when you’re feelin’ like you’d like to celebrate.”

  “How about right now?” she whispered.

  “You recovered quick. Maybe I should spank that ass some more.”

  “Noooo,” she protested. “I just need you to make love to me, really bad.”

  “I was just kiddin’,” he chuckled. “You got any sexy lingerie here?” he asked.

  “Um, not really. You probably noticed I don’t own much of that,” she admitted.

  “I did, and it’s somethin’ that has to be remedied right quick,” he said firmly. “Go take a shower in the guest room, and come back to me in that robe hangin’ on the hook behind the door, but don’t tie it. When you come back you stand next to the bed with your eyes closed. You don’t speak or move. Any questions?”

  He’d delivered the direction with authority, his voice possessing a tone deeper than she’d heard before, and she felt a heavy flush cross her face.

  “No,” she whispered.

  “You wanna try that again?” he suggested firmly.

  “Oh, sorry. No, Sir, no questions.”

  “Good girl,” he smiled.

  In her eyes he could see the warm joy from his approval, and placing his finger under her chin he titled up her head and kissed her softly.

  “Go on then, darlin’, don’t keep me waitin’ too long.”

  “I won’t, Sir, I promise.”

  As she hurried from the room Clint flopped on the bed, dropping his head into his hands. His heart was finally settling and he could breathe again.

  Feel like I just jumped that fence on Jiminy.

  You did.

  Is this really happenin’? Have I just jumped in with both feet? Seems like.

  I’m almost afraid to believe it.

  Your purgatory is over my friend.

  Swallowing hard, basking in his relief and joy, he headed for his shower.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Nervously waiting with the robe falling open, Amelia stood at the side of the bed with her eyes closed; her pulse was racing, and when she heard him approach she caught her breath.

  He was behind her, and taking her hair he lifted it from her neck, bringing his lips to the skin under her ear. She moaned softly as he kissed, and when he dropped her hair and moved his hands to her breasts, pulling her back against him, she felt herself melt. His fingers were kneading her fleshy mounds through the cotton robe, and she uttered her pleasure as the sharp tweak of a nipple sliced through her breast.

  “You’re going to learn how to please me,” he whispered, his lips touching her ear as his hands journeyed down her body.

  “Yes, Sir,” she quivered.

  “You’ll be obedient,” he continued, his fingers reaching her full, curly bush.

  “Yes, Sir,” she moaned, hoping his fingers would continue further down.

  “If you’re not you’ll be punished,” he warned, then moving his hands to her shoulders he slid the robe down her arms, letting it fall to the ground.

  “Sir,” she whimpered, a tremble rushing across her skin.

  “Yep.”

  “I feel weak.”

  “Hmmm, yep, that sounds about right,” he replied softly, running his hands across her burnt cheeks.

  “I mean, I’m not sure I can keep standing here.”

  “You can, and you will for just a minute longer,” he declared.

  He stepped away, but only for a moment, and when she felt the blindfold touch her eyes she realized it wasn’t the sleep mask he’d been using. A soft cushion pressed against her cheekbones and forehead, and she had a sense that the blindfold was very secure, that it wouldn’t easily move, though it wasn’t tight around her head.

  “Lean forward until your hands touch the bed and drop to your elbows,” he directed, “then spread your legs and arch your back.”

  She knew how close to the bed she was standing, but she was still tentative as she reached into the darkness.

  “I’m right here,” he purred, “I won’t let you fall. Keep leaning forward.”

  Her fingers touched the mattress, and breathing her relief she sank on to her forearms, arched her back and spread her feet apart. His hand patted her bottom, but a moment later she sensed him leaving, and when she heard some distant rustling she guessed he was inside his closet.

  The trunks, he’s going through his trunks.

  The thought sent goosebumps across her skin, and when she heard him returning she held her breath.

  He caressed her stinging behind, then placed his hand against her sex, gently cupping before whispering his fingers into her slit, pushing inside her warm, succulent depths; she moaned at the intrusion, thrusting back, begging for more.

  “How lovely you are, so wet and needy,” he murmured. “I have a something here I think you’ll enjoy,” he continued, “a reward for being so sweetly submissive.”

  His fingers withdrew, but he pushed a dildo in their stead, and seconds later a stunningly tantalizing vibration coursed through her sex. She cried out in pleasure and shock, but he held it firmly in place, and as her cries of surprise transformed into pleasurable moans he began to lightly slap the inside of her thighs.

  “Ow, oh, Sir,” she howled, “oh, don’t stop, oh dear God, slap harder, oooh, Sir, I’m going to-”

  “Nope, not yet,” he decreed, switching off the vibrator and quickly removing it.

  “Ooooh, Sir,” she groaned.

  Without speaking he grabbed her hips, plunged his cock home, and began pumping with rapid strokes, banging his pelvis against her hot pink behind.

  “Sir,” she wailed, “I’m so close.”

  Dropping her hips he grabbed her fleshy cheeks, gripping them tightly, slowing his pace, but continuing to surge with strong, powerful thrusts. His cock was ready to burst but he didn’t want their pleasure to end so soon.

  “Sir,” she begged, “please, I need to come so badly…it was the vibrator.”

  Gritting his teeth he slowed to a stop, leaving himself buried in her luscious warmth, then releasing her cheeks he dropped his fingers to her clit.

  “I’m going to rub, and you can come at will,” he crooned.

  “But I want your cock too,” she complained.

  His hand left her pussy, slapping her bottom smartly, darkening the dark pink tinge, refreshing the hot sting.

  “Sorry, Sir, sorry,” she wailed.

  “Next time there will be no coming for you,” he warned, “but don’t worry darlin’, you’ll learn,” and returning his fingers to her clit he resumed his work, rubbing, circling and teasing.
“No more complainin’. My fingers will stay here until you come, and I can do this and stay hard inside you for as long as it takes.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she groaned, wriggling against him

  “You want my control, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I love it,” she whimpered, “so much.”

  “Good girl,” he murmured, toying his finger against her magic nub, adding pressure, then releasing, then adding again.

  “That feels so amazing, oooh, what are you doing? It’s so amazing.”

  Closing his eyes he let himself sink into the feel of her pussy, and every tiny pulse against his cock directed his fingers in their blissful work. He could feel her climax building, and slowly he moved his cock, pushing himself to his own orgasm.

  “Oh, oh, Sir, it’s so big,” she breathed, “my climax is so big.”

  Opening his eyes he saw her body grow taut, and massaging her clit as his cock ardently stroked he surrendered to his moment. His groans became the bass to her squeals of passion, her climatic convulsions milking his cock until there was nothing left, and falling flaccid from her depths he dropped on the bed, pulling her against him.

  “Hey darlin’,” he breathed, gently removing her blindfold.

  “Clint,” she breathlessly whispered, “I love it, I love your control.”

  “We’re just startin’,” he panted.

  “Is this like a drug? You get a taste and want more and more?”

  “Yep, and it’s in you or it’s not,” he sighed, still feeling the deep pounding of his heart, “and it’s in you, Amelia, for sure.”

  “I’m so happy,” she breathed, nestling next to him.

  “This was some special day,” he mumbled, feeling his eyes grow heavy.

  “The most special ever,” she murmured.

  “Nap,” he mumbled.

  “Yes, definitely, nap.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  It was the cold that woke her, and as she stirred from sleep she thought she heard someone gently tapping on the back door. Opening her eyes she realized it was rain hitting the window, and shivering she snuggled closer.

  “Hey, darlin’,” Clint yawned.

  “It’s raining,” she said softly, “and it’s cold, and it turned dark.”

  “Damn, it is cold. What time is it?”

  “It’s past seven,” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe it.”

  “You had an exhausting day,” he sighed, reaching up and turning on the beside lamp. “We both did.”

  “No kidding,” she replied, moving away from him to climb under the bedcovers.

  “I’m starvin’,” Clint frowned, jumping off the bed and starting the fire. “You hungry?”

  “Yes, but I’m cold too,” she complained. “I’m so glad there’s a roof over Jiminy’s corral. Are all the other horses okay?”

  “He wouldn’t be in that corral without a roof. Horses need shelter. Sam and the guys would have brought in the ones that are clipped, or thrown blankets on them,” Clint assured her. “I have some of Tom’s lasagna defrosted. I think I’m gonna heat it up. You want some?”

  “Sounds perfect,” she yawned.

  Pulling on his jeans and a thick sweat shirt, he wandered back to her, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “You come on out when you’re ready,” he said softly, his hand stroking the hair off her face. “I’ll get everything workin’.”

  “I’m so happy,” she smiled, “but I think I should reimburse you for whatever you paid for Jiminy.”

  “Stop that foolish talk,” he frowned. “Don’t you say another word like that, you hear me? Givin’ you Jiminy was a real special thing for me, you got it?”

  “Yes, Clint,” she murmured, sitting up and curling her arms around his neck. “I got it.”

  He hugged her, lingering his hold for several minutes, relishing the reality of his new life, and finally releasing her he kissed her warmly.

  “I’ll get the fire started in the livin’ room,” he promised rising from the bed.

  “A rainy night, how romantically perfect,” she smiled. “I won’t be long.”

  Clint ambled down the hallway, turned on the lights and set the large fireplace in the living room to blaze, then wandered into the kitchen and pulled the lasagna from the refrigerator. Deciding to heat it in the oven instead of the microwave, he placed it on a tray and dropped it on the middle rack, then started some coffee to brew. He was standing by the kitchen window watching the weather when Amelia snuck up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

  “Hey handsome,” she said warmly.

  “Hey beautiful,” he replied, turning around.

  “Smells so good in here,” she smiled.

  “I put the lasagna in the oven. It tastes better somehow, and I love the smell of it too.”

  “All the horses okay down there?” she asked.

  “Seems to be. Max will do the rounds soon. You want some coffee?”

  “I would, with shot of whiskey, please. We can sit in front of the fire while the lasagna’s heating, and you can tell me your story,” she declared, her gaze telling him it was his turn to reveal all.

  “Okay,” he sighed, “fair enough. I was thinkin’ about somethin’ along those lines.”

  A few minutes later, the steaming mug in her hands, she sat cross-legged on the couch staring at him expectantly.

  “You look like an interrogator,” he grinned.

  “Just a listener, and I won’t interrupt with a single question, I promise,” she vowed.

  “Not sure where to start,” he frowned.

  “The beginning is usually a good place,” she offered.

  “It’s complex. Let’s see, a few years back I was leading a double life. My ranch used to be in New York State-”

  “So far away!” she exclaimed.

  “I thought you said you wouldn’t interrupt,” he scolded.

  “Shoot, sorry, just wasn’t expecting that.”

  “There’ll be a lot you won’t expect, and if you interrupt every time I’ll never be able to finish. I could fetch a gag if you need it,” he warned.

  “No, no, my lips are sealed. I’ll just raise my eyebrows when I’m surprised.”

  “That will work, so, I had my ranch in New York State, and one of my closest friends, Scott Hammond, opened a dungeon club in New York. I started goin’ and I loved it, but I needed to keep my real life completely separate so I went by the name of Josh, and before you ask, no, that’s not what the ‘J’ stood for on that envelope you saw.”

  Amelia smiled, but kept her promise, and just raised her eyebrows in response.

  “Long story short, Scott started travelin’ a lot and ended up havin’ to stay in London indefinitely, so I volunteered to oversee the place. Monday through Thursday the bar manager, Mario, a real tough guy, took charge. I’d go up on Friday and leave Monday morning. I was stayin’ at Scott’s, the whole thing was workin’ out real well.”

  He paused, then took a deep breath.

  “Thing is Amelia, I went a bit crazy.”

  Amelia frowned in a silent question.

  Really? Crazy how?

  “The girls, they loved me. They loved my accent, they loved what I did to them, and the fact is, I couldn’t stop. It was like somethin’ took me over when I was there. I was outta control.”

  Amelia was suddenly glad that she’d promised to stay quiet; she wouldn’t have known what to say.

  “I’d never been around so many women, so many submissive women, and they all wanted me. This went on for months, and then…”

  Clint shook his head and stared across at the fire. Amelia saw a flicker of pain in his eyes, and as his brow creased she knew he was reliving some painful memories.

  “There was a cocktail waitresses, Jen, and one night she had to stay after the place closed. I didn’t mix business with pleasure, but somehow we ended up together. Man, she was somethin’ else, and I started spendin’ more and more time with her. I was still carryin’ on w
ith others, and she knew it but she never said anythin’. Anyway, one night I found her cryin’ and she told me she was bein’ evicted. I felt bad so I let her stay in the apartment. I really started fallin’ for her, thought it was the real deal, and I was drivin’ back to the ranch one Monday when I got it in my head to turn around and go back. I was gonna tell her all about my horses, my other life, make her a part of it.”

  “Uh-oh,” Amelia whispered.

  “Yep. I walked in and heard noises comin’ from the bedroom. I snuck up and looked through the door jam; damned if it wasn’t Mario.”

  He shifted his gaze back to the fireplace, and Amelia saw his jaw clench. Impulsively she stood up and moved quickly to the bar, pouring him a scotch.

  “Thank you, darlin’,” he smiled taking it from her hand. “I could use it. I’ve never told anyone about this.”

  “I can tell,” she sighed sitting back down. “So, what happened? Did you punch him?”

  “Nope, but it wasn’t easy, I was madder than a bear. I stayed in the city and watched them. Turned out he was there every night.”

  “Holy crap,” she groaned.

  “I was real hurt, real angry, but I had a hunch somethin’ else was goin’ on, somethin’ bigger, so every night I parked across the street facin’ the alley behind the club, and waited until Mario left. I was beginnin’ to think I was wrong, but Thursday night it happened. After the place closed a van arrived. Mario came out the back door and three guys started unloadin’ crates of booze. Mario paid them and they drove off. I figured he was buyin’ stolen booze, writin’ up invoices from a phony supplier, and creamin’ off the difference.”

  “Holy crap again,” Amelia breathed.

  “Next mornin’ I went straight to the local precinct, talked to a detective and he set up a sting. Thing was, I had to pretend like everythin’ was okay, I had to be at the club, be around Jen and act totally normal. I was beside myself. They’d been connin’ me for almost a year.” Shaking his head he took a drink, the stared back at her. “I felt like a complete fool.”

  “May I say something?” she asked softly.