The Cowboy's Revenge (Ride Hard Series Book 1)

by Zoe Blake

Annabelle bucked, trying to see over her shoulder to confirm her suspicion.

  “Oh god! Please! Don’t! It already hurts so much,” she pleaded.

  Mason pulled the bristles over the heated skin of her right buttock in one large circle. Annabelle kicked her feet and she cried out in pain. The bristles felt like a thousand pin pricks, a thousand bee stings, a thousand painful pinches. Her tortured skin couldn’t take anymore.

  “Stop! Stop!”

  “Are you ever going to display yourself like a common harlot in front of another man again?”

  “No! No! Never!”

  Mason ran the bristles over her left buttock, watching as Annabelle bucked and kicked to no avail.

  “I promise! Please! I’ll never do it again.”

  “See that you don’t,” he ground out, his jaw still tense with anger.

  With a sigh of relief, Annabelle tried to rise, assuming her punishment was over.

  Mason placed a heavy palm between her shoulder blades, pressing her back down over his lap. “We’re not even close to being done, darlin.”

  Annabelle grabbed fistfuls of the bed quilt, burying her face in it as she cried.

  Once more, Mason flipped the brush, holding it by the bristles. Placing the tip of the handle at the top of her bottom crease, he applied subtle pressure. Watching as the handle pushed its way between her cheeks.

  “What…what are you doing?” asked an alarmed Annabelle.

  Mason ignored her and continued to apply pressure to the brush handle. It disappeared between her cheeks. He pumped it a few times, making sure to tilt it towards her body so it was sure to tease her clit.

  Annabelle gasped, confused by the mixture of punishment and pleasure.

  “Lock your hands together behind your back,” he ordered.

  Annabelle quickly obeyed.

  “Good girl. Now don’t move them.”

  His left hand now free, Mason used it to splay open her ass cheeks.

  “Tilt your bottom higher.”

  “But why?” she whined.

  Mason gave her a harsh spank to remind her who was in charge and who shouldn’t be asking questions. Without further comment, Annabelle pushed on her knees, raising her bottom higher into the air and partially off his lap.

  Mason moved his right hand down till it was resting behind her upper thighs. Placing the tip of the brush handle at her cunny entrance, he pushed.

  “Oh! No! Please! I’m still sore,” she complained.

  “You should have thought of that before you put your tits on display for my friend.”

  Mason moved the brush handle back and forth, thrusting in further each time as Annabelle groaned and shifted her hips. Pulling the brush free, Mason was pleased to see the glisten of her dew on the silver handle. He moved the tip up slightly, aiming for the ridged entrance of her back passage. He tapped the dark pink hole with the tip of the brush.

  Annabelle released her hands and tried to rise. “No! Not there!”

  “Hands behind your back,” he barked.

  With a moan, Annabelle obeyed.

  The brush handle was narrow and no thicker than his index finger. After taking her bottom several times with his much larger cock, she should have no problem accepting the brush handle up her bum.

  Pushing through her resisting muscle ring, he forced the handle into her ass. The only protest from Annabelle was a long, guttural moan. He knew she was more humiliated than in pain. Mason thrust till the whole handle disappeared up her dark passage. The bristles of the brush taunting the delicate skin of her inner cheeks, forcing them to stay splayed wide.

  “On your knees.”

  “What?”

  “On. Your. Knees.”

  Annabelle shifted off his lap. Her hand reached back to pull out the brush handle.

  “Leave it.”

  “But…”

  “Leave. It.”

  Annabelle awkwardly got on her knees before him.

  “Closer,” he ordered as he spread his knees wide.

  Annabelle shifted closer. Gritting her teeth as every movement caused the brush to bounce and shift, sending agonizing spikes of pain up her sore bottom.

  Mason unbuttoned his pants, pulling his cock free. Wrapping his long fingers around the shaft, he gave it several long strokes as he watched Annabelle waiting in fearful anticipation. She was on her knees being careful not to lean back and knock the brush.

  “Open your mouth.”

  Annabelle realized he was going to do that thing with his cock and her mouth again. “Please, I learned my lesson,” she begged.

  Mason just raised an eyebrow and waited. Reluctantly, Annabelle opened her mouth, slightly. Mason glided the tip of his cock over her bottom lip. “Wider,” he ordered.

  Hearing the intent behind his words, Annabelle opened her mouth wider. Mason pushed his cock past her full lips, groaning as her bottom teeth softly grazed the underside of his shaft. Digging his fingers into her hair on either side of her head, he pulled it back, so he could see her face unobstructed as she was forced to swallow his length. Shifting his hips, he slowly slid his cock in deeper.

  Annabelle choked and pleaded with him with her big, blue eyes.

  Mason refused to relent. Pushing forward, he watched as her lips were stretched almost white around his thick shaft.

  “That’s it, baby. Take it down. Take it deep,” he groaned as he tightened his grasp on her hair, forcing her head down. Using his hands, he guided Annabelle’s head up and down his long shaft in a slow, steady rhythm. Annabelle pushed against his thighs, trying to pull back.

  “You need something do with your hands, darlin?”

  Annabelle tried to shake her head no but his rod deep down her throat prevented her.

  “Reach back and grab the brush. Work it in and out of your bottom.”

  Again, Annabelle tried to plead with him with her eyes, even making some guttural noises.

  “Do it.”

  Closing her eyes in humiliation, Annabelle reached her hand back, fumbling for the brush. Once she had a grip on the bristled head, she gingerly pulled.

  “Don’t pull it all the way out of your ass,” he warned. “Push it back in.”

  Annabelle groaned, the sound sending pleasurable vibrations up his shaft. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. Pushing her own brush handle into her bottom. What was worse, was the illicit pleasure she was feeling both from his punishment and his mastery over her. Obediently, she pushed the handle back into her dark passage. Smaller than his cock, it wasn’t as much painful as intrusive.

  Watching her submit to his command, as she shoved the handle deep into her ass, caused Mason’s release to come roaring to the fore. Palming his shaft with one hand, keeping a grip on the back of her head with the other, Mason tilted his hips up, working his hand feverishly. Annabelle knew to keep her mouth open, not wanting another punishment for closing it. With a groan, he watched as his seed coated her tongue and lips.

  “Lick your lips,” he said through clenched teeth, the ripples of his release still coursing through him.

  Annabelle licked her lips, taking his creamy, salty taste deep into her mouth.

  Using his hand to glide her forward and up higher on her knees, Mason reached around and gently pulled the brush free. Annabelle gave a sigh of relief.

  Taking her chin between his fingers, he raised her head to meet his flinty gaze. “Are you going to ever misbehave like that again?”

  “Never,” she breathed.

  “Good girl. Wait here while I get a linen to clean us both up.”

  ~*~

  Sometime later, Annabelle was curled up on his lap as he leaned against the bed headboard.

  Stroking her long silken locks, he said, “I’m assuming you overheard Horn and me talking?”

  Annabelle nodded her head. Refusing to meet his gaze, she tentatively asked, “Why didn’t you tell me this whole thing was about revenge?”

  Mason ran his hands over his mouth and jaw. Dammit. He
should have told her sooner. “The truth is, Calico, I thought after being raised by such a cold-hearted sonofabitch like Waltze, you’d be one hellfire bitch. Figured it would be easier to not give a shit about what this would do to you.” Looking down into her beautiful eyes, he once again marveled at their changeable colors. “Then I met you…and you were one hellfire bitch.”

  Annabelle gave him a playful punch, smiling through watery eyes.

  Mason laughed and then stilled. Stroking her cheek with the back of his knuckles he continued, “But then I met the real you. The side I’m hoping I’m the only one lucky enough to have ever seen. You’re passionate, smart and intelligent. A gilded cage is no place for a woman as feisty and full of life as you.”

  As much as she warmed to his impassioned words, she still had to know. “Was it all just about revenge? All of it.”

  Mason grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to straddle his hips. “No. No, it wasn’t. You have to believe me. I gave up on using you for revenge after that first night on the trail. The rest has been about us…just us. It’s just that, Annabelle, ah…Jesus Christ!” he cursed as he ran a hand through his hair. “There is another reason why I didn’t tell you.”

  Annabelle held her breath, not sure if she wanted to know. He looked so tormented.

  Placing his hands on either side of her jaw, he looked intently into her eyes. “Baby, it’s about your mother.”

  Annabelle pulled away from the comfort of his warm hands caressing her face. She knew what he was going to say. She had her suspicions but no one had ever dared say them out loud, least of all her. She wasn’t sure she could hear it now. Hearing it would make it real. She started to shake her head no. “I don’t want to know.”

  “You need to know.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. “Please, Mason.”

  Rubbing her back with long comforting strokes, he said, “You already know don’t you? You know your step-father killed her.”

  Annabelle squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Do you know why?” he asked gently.

  Annabelle shook her head yes. After a few sniffs, she said, “It’s my fault. He killed her because of me.” Her shoulders wrenched forward on an agonizing sob. Mason enclosed her in his strong embrace. Hugging her close, holding her tight. She took comfort from the familiar scent of sandalwood, the soft feel of his wool shirt.

  “Calico, that simply is not true. What would make you think such a terrible thing?”

  Mason was familiar with the twisting guilt that came with a loved one’s death. It took a long time and meeting Annabelle for him to finally let go and realize he wasn’t to blame for John’s murder.

  “My…my step-father started making comments. Hinting how he wished my mother was no longer around so he could marry me. At first, I didn’t take it seriously. I thought he was doing it to just rattle me, keep me unsteady…he liked to do that sort of thing to those around him. Always manipulating. Then one day she went out for a ride and never came back. The Doc in town said she had been thrown from her horse but I always suspected my step-father was somehow involved,” she answered in a rush.

  Mason continued to stroke her hair, the slow and easy gesture belying the turmoil raging through him. He didn’t need another reason to want the man dead but he sure as hell got one now. That he would torment Annabelle. That he would be sick enough to suggest marrying his own step-daughter. Mason knew now he was mistaken. Like Horn said, he should have just put a bullet between the man’s eyes and risked the rope.

  “Waltze killed your mother after he learned she was snooping around the trails on Superstition Mountains during her long rides. She was looking for his gold mine. From what I was able to learn, she was going to leave the sonofabitch and needed some security. Waltze paid off the doctor to say she’d been thrown from her horse.”

  “I’ll kill him,” she said soft and low.

  As much as Mason loved her moxy, he couldn’t allow her to think he was going to let her within spitting distance of that monster. Horn rode hell for leather to reach Mason this morning to let him know there was a sizable bounty on his head. As a gunslinger this side of the law, Horn had been approached by Waltze. They agreed Waltze would need to be taken care of and soon…this time they were doing it Horn’s way.

  Grabbing her chin to make his point, he said, “You will do nothing of the sort. Waltze is mine to take care of. Horn and I are going to ride out at dawn. You’re going to stay right here where I know you’ll be safe. I’m not risking the life of the woman I love. Waltze has already taken too much from me as it is.”

  “You love me?” Annabelle whispered shyly.

  “Damn, Calico! Of course I love you! You’d think I’d put up with all your tantrums if I didn’t love you?”

  “My tantrums!” she cried out incredulously. “What about your surly moods and disagreeable…”

  Mason silenced her with a deep kiss. Pressing his hips upwards to caress her cunny with his fabric covered cock.

  Horn was just going to have to wait a little longer.

  Chapter Twelve

  Annabelle ran breathless into the barn. Seeing Horn’s stormy countenance she almost faltered in her plan. No. She couldn’t. This was for Mason’s own good.

  Keeping her eyes shyly averted she said, “Mason wants you to ride into the valley and bring back Mary Sue and her husband to watch over me while you’re both gone.” Biting her lip, Annabelle waited to see if he would do as she asked.

  Cinching the saddle on his horse, having already saddled Mason’s, Horn nodded his head. “Tell Mason I’ll be back in two shakes.”

  Annabelle nodded then watched as he rode out of the barn towards the orchard valley at the base of the mountain. When he was out of site, she threw off her skirt. Underneath she had a pair of the previous owner’s pants on. Thank god he was small in stature. She had found them a few days ago when she was digging around for more clothes to wear. Running into the yard, she reached under the brier bush where she had stashed Mason’s gun. Placing it in the saddlebag, since she didn’t trust having it around her hips. Annabelle then dragged a crate over to Cupid. Patting her neck, she cooed to the nervous horse. “Remember me, girl? You’re going to help me save Mason.” The horse bowed its head as if she understood. Annabelle stepped on the crate then carefully put one foot in the stirrup, swinging her leg over the saddle. Gripping the horn and reins she slowly guided the large beast out of the barn. This was not her first time riding astride, thankfully her mother had always insisted she learn both side saddle and astride. You never knew when you would need to know how to really ride a horse, she used to say. Annabelle swallowed back the tears that threatened to overflow. No. She had to keep focused. She didn’t have much time before Horn returned.

  Her only thought needed to be revenge.

  Annabelle rode out of the homestead yard following the trail back to the stagecoach station. She couldn’t hear Mason’s outraged shouts.

  ~*~

  He was going to tan her little hide, thought Mason with a snarl…as soon as he got untied from this bed.

  Annabelle had woken him this morning with a saucy smile. Straddling his hips with a couple of his bandannas in her hand, she had asked sweetly if she could tie him up for a change. Mason was up for it…literally. His cock sprang to attention at the prospect of Annabelle riding him astride. Her beautiful breasts bouncing. Her wild curls all astray. Watching as his thick cock plunged deep into her waiting cunny. While he wasn’t crazy about being tied up, he wanted to encourage her to be free spirited in bed and if securing his wrists to a couple of bed posts was going to do it…well then tie him up!

  He closed his eyes remembering the feel of her soft thighs, as they pressed against his hips. Her tentative grasp as she guided his cock into her wet heat. The feel of her silken locks teasing his shoulders when she leaned down to give him a quick kiss. His chest still bore the mark of her fingernails from the moment she found her release.

  Then she kissed him one last
time, said she was sorry but she couldn’t let him go after Waltze.

  “He’s already gunning for you. He won’t suspect anything from me,” she reasoned.

  “God damn it, Annabelle. Untie me this instant,” he barked, pulling on the bandannas. She had wet the fabric so all his movements just pulled them tighter. He should have been suspicious, he just figured they were freshly laundered.

  “I can’t, Mason. Please understand.”

  “Annabelle, this isn’t a game. Waltze is a cold-hearted monster. You could get killed.”

  She just sent him a bittersweet smile before leaving the room, ignoring his shouts of rage.

  ~*~

  Mason heard the cabin door open and footfalls approach the bedroom.

  “I’m going to spank your ass raw for this, woman,” he ground out, dizzy from the rush of relief. She had changed her mind and returned for him.

  “Well, you could try,” drawled Horn with an amused glint in his eye as he surveyed Mason’s bare-ass naked form hog tied to the bed.

  “Jesus Christ, Horn! You just let her fucking leave!”

  “Your girl’s clever, what can I say? She got me to run an errand down into the valley. Knew something was up when I returned and Cupid was gone.”

  “Untie me,” said Mason through clenched teeth.

  Horn pulled the long knife from his boot and made quick work of Mason’s binds.

  “I’ll saddle another horse while you pretty yourself up,” smirked Horn.

  Mason sent him a rude gesture as he grabbed his pants and gun belt. Annabelle had a half hour lead on him. They needed to ride hard if they were going to catch her.

  Minutes later a cloud of dust kicked up in the yard as both men rode hell bent for leather for the trail leading off the mountain.

  ~*~

  So far everything was going as planned, thought Annabelle. She had slipped away from the homestead without Horn noticing and without Mason getting loose. She knew the stagecoach was on the Phoenix route so it was bound to have a steady stream of coaches pulling up. Annabelle hoped her chances increased with it being so early in the morning. Coaches liked to get some ground covered before the high noon sun. She was in luck. There was a coach in the yard. Vulture City was bound to be on the way. She would have preferred to stay on horseback but she didn’t trust herself to remember the way. Plus it was safer to ride in the coach. She would leave a note at the station to send someone to Willow Brier to retrieve Cupid.