Taming His Wild Girl (Wild Whip Ranch Book 2)

by Lee Savino

  “Guess I’m a little overwhelmed.” I tried to laugh, but it sounded strangled, even to my own ears. “The last few days have been a bit of a whirlwind, is all.”

  His amber irises lit with understanding. “It’s not every day you get married to some strange guy, is it?”

  This time, I managed a genuine laugh. “You’re not a strange guy.”

  He lifted his chin. “You don’t know everything about me yet, Isabelle.”

  I sensed an energy in him, like something tense and coiled, ready to go off. It was making me a little nervous, but not in a bad way.

  “I don’t?” I whispered.

  He shook his head, almost pityingly. He was still holding my head, lightly, but in a way that would prevent me from getting away from him, even if I wanted to. “But I’m pretty sure I know exactly what you need right now.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You know what that marriage contract means?”

  I blinked wordlessly. A flicker of warmth bloomed up in my belly, mingling with the sharper sensation of my fear.

  “It means you’re mine now. Now it’s all official between us, I figured it was time I introduced my beautiful new wife to some of my rules.”

  I blinked. “Such as?”

  He pressed a finger to my lips. “It’s not my little one’s place to question her dom. Only to do his bidding.”

  My questions dissolved in the full body shiver that came over me. Joel’s eyes crinkled. He knew exactly what I was feeling.

  “It’s my job to know exactly what my little one needs.” He gave me a slow smile, laced with dark intent. “You remember the safeword?”

  I nodded. Orange. I hadn’t come close to using it so far, but the fact he was reminding me of it delivered a thrill of nerves. What did he have in mind for me?

  He smoothed my hair back from my face, and looked at me appraisingly. “I need to go see to the animals now, but when I get back, I’m going to continue your training.”

  He backed me up until my ass bumped against the edge of the kitchen table.

  “Take off your panties.”

  “What?” I murmured in surprise.

  His hand rose to my throat, and squeezed a little. “I warned you, Isabelle. And there will be consequences for your disobedience.”

  Cowboy correction.

  I pressed my lips together. My hands scrabbled at the sides of my skirt. I grasped the sides of my panties and yanked them down. I pulled them over my cowboy boots and stepped out of them.

  He nodded approvingly. “Show me.”

  I knew what he meant. My cheeks burned. Reluctantly, I raised my skirt, little by little, all the way up to my waist. I heard his intake of breath, but I couldn’t meet his eyes.

  “Sit up on the table and spread your legs for me.” His voice was a low growl, and I did as I was told, leaning back and letting my thighs fall wide apart. The air felt cool on my exposed pussy. Dammit. I was wet already.

  How was that possible when I was so darned embarrassed?

  “Wider.”

  I inched my legs apart, until he murmured, “Good.” He snatched my crumpled panties from my hand. “Put your hands behind your back.”

  I laid my fingers on the table behind me.

  “Open your mouth.”

  I parted my lips and stretched my jaw wide, knowing better than to do it half-heartedly.

  His lips curled into a smile that was almost callous.

  Then, to my surprise and horror, he stuffed my panties into my mouth.

  WTF? The lacy fabric felt so dry and awful. And I thought I could pick up a hint of my own sweet-salty taste.

  “That’s your punishment for talking out of turn,” he said. “Now you’re going to stay exactly where you are, all exposed like that for anyone to see, until I get back. If I see you’ve moved, there’ll be hell to pay. Understand?”

  I nodded.

  And he left me there.

  Bang! went the door behind him, and I jumped. Could I be any more ashamed right now? What if someone did come by?

  Well, they’d see me half-naked on the kitchen table, gagged with my own underwear.

  I tried to close my lips around the scratchy fabric, but it was too much. My mouth watered as it tried to deal with the new intruder, and my thighs trembled, desperate to close and protect my modesty.

  And still my pussy burned.

  Because, as humiliating as this was, I loved it. Loved him ordering me around, making me wait for him.

  His words came back to me:

  It’s my job to know exactly what my little one needs.

  What did I need right now?

  To give up control.

  To be used, hard. Mercilessly.

  I yearned for his hand on my ass. For him to spank all the worry and fear out of me.

  He was gone a long time. I started to long for him to return. My ass cheeks ached from the pressure of the table, and my pussy was dripping wet. I could feel it pooling beneath me. I thought about Joel’s cock, how long and thick it was, and how much I needed it inside me. I hoped he’d come back, pull it out of his pants, and take me right then and there. I was so aroused, I knew I’d come right away, spasm around him as he entered me in rough thrusts. I wanted him like crazy. Wanted him everywhere. Wanted him in my mouth, thrusting in and out, the look of pleasure on his face as he went deeper every time and I gasped for air, trying to swallow him whole.

  I wanted him in my ass again, too. When he took my anal virginity it had been weird and scary, but I’d loved that he’d claimed me like that, that my ass was his forever. And I’d come so hard. I didn’t know it was possible to orgasm like that—my ass clenching around his cock as my climax rippled all the way through me.

  I was still imagining Joel fucking my ass when he strode back in to the kitchen, whistling. My eyes zeroed in on his crotch. He was already hard. He’d been thinking about me. I liked that.

  At the sight of me, a look of satisfaction crossed his face.

  “Good girl,” he crooned. He came over to me and laid a hand between my legs. His touch was electric, and I moaned around the gag.

  “All wet, huh?” he said, like he was surprised. He had no reason to be surprised; I was always shamefully drenched for him. He spread my labia with two fingers and examined my pussy while I squirmed. He made a sound of approval, then drew back his hand, and slapped it.

  I yelped, more in surprise than pain, but the sound was muffled by my panties.

  He looked into my eyes and smiled. “Think you liked that.”

  He slapped me again.

  Again, I yelped. Shock, indignation, and pleasure, all rolled into one.

  Six more slaps, some on my thighs, some on my pussy, so I didn’t know where the next one was going to land. By the end of it, I was about ready to swallow the gag. My insides throbbed, hungrier for him than ever.

  At last, he reached into my mouth and pulled the hated gag out of my mouth. I’d been drooling a little, I realized embarrassedly.

  He went to the sink and brought back a glass of water. “Drink,” he commanded. “Need to keep that sweet mouth of yours lubricated.”

  I gulped fast while he fed the water down my throat, draining it until the last drop. That icky dry feeling was gone, and my mouth felt like my own again.

  “Now, tell me what you were thinking about all that time I was gone.”

  It was a command, not a question.

  My gaze drifted to his zipper, his cock straining beneath it.

  “Th-that I wanted you to come back and use me hard.” The words were not easy to say, but I knew better than to hide the truth.

  His lips curved into a slow smile. Suddenly, he hauled me off the table and flipped me over, so my upper body was bent right over and my bare ass was exposed to his view. I heard the clink of metal as he unfastened his belt buckle, then a rustle of foil. I trembled all over, knowing what was coming.

  He spread my legs wide, and a moment later, his cock pierced me. One har
d thrust, and he was buried all the way in my pussy.

  Fuck. My muscles clenched tight around him, forced to yield suddenly, while my nerve endings tingled. It was a lot to take, but it hurt so good.

  His fingers bit into my ass while he thrust in and out in hard, almost savage, jerks.

  “Like this?” he demanded.

  “Uh-huh,” I managed to say.

  He thrust a few more times, then abruptly pulled out.

  “Or more like this?”

  This time, he wasn’t so gentle with my ass. He pressed the head of his cock to my little hole for a few short seconds, until I started to open up, and then he pushed himself all the way in. I yelled out as a throbbing pain went right through my behind. I opened my mouth to beg him to stop…

  And then it eased off. It was replaced by a deep, pulsing pleasure. He was buried deep inside my ass. A place that wasn’t intended for his cock. So wrong. But so fucking good. I felt my tight ring gripping him hard as he made little thrusts, pushing himself deeper into me with every one. He gave a grunt of pleasure, and it turned me on even more that he was enjoying my ass. Enjoying using me like this.

  “Like this better?” he demanded.

  “K-kinda?” I gasped.

  “Good. But that’s enough for now.”

  Again, he pulled out abruptly. I heard him snap the condom off.

  What? He isn’t enjoying fucking me? I wanted to get up, try to figure out what he was thinking, but he laid a hand on the small of my back, keeping me right where I was.

  His finger circled around my asshole. “So open for me,” he commented.

  I did feel open. Both my holes reamed by his cock. What a shameful, squirmy feeling. But why wasn’t he finishing what he started? I was tingling all over, about a half-dozen thrusts away from exploding around him.

  “You can get up now,” he said, at last.

  I straightened up and turned around, embarrassed, almost desperate enough to beg him to continue.

  Maybe he was teasing me. Seemed like the kind of thing he’d do.

  “Take off your dress,” he said, once I was facing him again. His jeans were still undone, his cock huge and engorged. The sight of him like that made me dizzy with need.

  I did as I was told.

  “And your bra.”

  I stood in front of him, naked, wet, and needing him so much it was ridiculous.

  He looked me up and down and smirked, and I had the worst feeling he knew exactly what I was thinking.

  “We’re going outside now,” he said. His hand came down on the back of my neck, and he guided me across the kitchen. When we arrived at the front door, I opened it automatically and stepped outside.

  It was dusk now, and the whisper of a breeze chilled my bare flesh. I panicked that one of his buddies might pull into the lot and see me like this. But the pressure of his hand on my neck was relentless, guiding me down the porch steps and across the yard. When my hands lifted to cover my boobs, he clicked his tongue.

  “Nuh-uh,” he said. “On your hips instead.”

  I did as I was told, feeling absurdly like I was displaying myself to any and all of the animals we passed.

  But if they noticed that there was a naked human wandering by, they paid me no notice at all.

  Joe led me to the stables. Nerves ran through me. Is he going to put me in a stable? The idea seemed crazy, but nothing about this was normal. From time to time, his cock brushed against my back—a delicious reminder of his arousal.

  We passed the rows of horse stalls, where the horses were quiet, munching on their evening feed. When he didn’t stop me there, I felt a flicker of relief.

  Instead, he led me to the tack room. I’d been in there once before, but now, when he flicked the light on, the place was transformed.

  Most of the bridles, ropes, and reins that had lined the walls were gone, and in their place were a bunch of metal rings, some at head height, others close to the ground. Some were empty, while others had leather straps attached to them. In the middle of the room was the long bench where the saddles were usually kept, but they were also gone, and the curved leather surface was bare. Off on the far side of the room were a bunch of things I hadn’t noticed before—or maybe they hadn’t been there—a bunch of black leather things—a riding crop? A brush for a horse?

  He brought me into the middle of the room and released me. I looked around in awe.

  “What do you think?” he demanded. He was somewhere behind me, and I knew better than to turn around and look for him.

  “It looks kind of like a bondage dungeon,” I said, feeling foolish.

  “That’s exactly what it is.” He sounded pleased. “I’ve been putting it together the last few days. It’s cost me a lot not to bring you here before, but I didn’t want you to see it until everything was perfect. This is our special playroom. Yours and mine. It’s so we can separate our playtime from our day-to-day lives.”

  His hands came from behind me, cupping my breasts. Then he leaned around and kissed me. His lips were soft, and I moaned into his mouth. Then he tweaked my nipples hard, and I gasped in pain.

  “We’re going to have a lot of fun in here,” he whispered in my ear. “There are so many things I want to do with you. But first, I’ve got some things for you to wear.”

  Something dark passed over my eyes and he tied it tight behind my head.

  A whimper escaped my lips.

  “Shhh…” he said, like he was calming a horse. “I’m going to blindfold you for a moment. Help you get into the space.” He stroked my behind and my shoulders, and miraculously, I did calm down. Having one of my senses restricted was strangely reassuring.

  His hands ran down my legs, and without him needing to ask, I lifted one and then the other and he pulled off my cowboy boots, so I was standing on the wooden floor in my bare feet. “This isn’t a place for cowgirls,” he told me. “Now, stay right where you are, and put your hands behind your back.”

  I did exactly as he told me.

  After a moment, he passed something around my throat and buckled it at the back of my neck. I picked up the rich scent of new leather. Another strap went around each wrist, buckled up tight. They felt heavy and substantial. He attached another pair to my ankles as well.

  He was quiet for a while and I pricked my ears, listening hard. My body thrummed with nerves and anticipation. I heard something like a metal spring being flexed.

  I yelped as my nipples became two points of fire. What the fuck? It wasn’t a momentary pain; they kept right on hurting.

  “Just some little clamps,” he said in a soothing tone. “They’ll stop hurting in a minute, and you’ll start to enjoy them.”

  They were arousing. The pain was already blossoming into a white-hot thread of need that connected directly with my clit.

  Then Joel lifted my chin and pried my mouth open. He tilted my head this way and that, then two fingers slid in, running all the way to the back of my tongue. He pushed at my gag reflex, three, four times, and I tried my hardest not to choke. I wanted to be a good girl for him.

  “Good,” he said with satisfaction. His fingers withdrew, and something else slid in. His cock?

  No, stupid. That’s impossible.

  It was something long and thick, although it didn’t slide in and out, but stayed right where it was, filling my mouth. Keeping my jaw open wide. Then two straps pulled tight around the back of my head, and I felt him close some kind of buckle.

  “Perfect,” he said at last.

  There was a brief silence, then he removed the blindfold. He was now naked—I hadn’t heard him strip off. The sight of that incredible body of his, with his huge cock jutting out, make me weak at the knees all over again.

  “My perfect little sub, all ready for me,” he said, and his eyes burned with lust.

  My nipples burned; I was trying not to drool around whatever I had stuffed into my mouth, and my pussy and ass throbbed from his earlier attentions. I felt ridiculous and embarrassed and se
xy, all rolled into one insane ball of need.

  As Joel looked me up and down, he ran his hand up and down his cock, casually jerking himself off at the sight of me. It was ridiculously hot. I loved the fact I had this effect on him. And I loved to see him right now, not as a cowboy, but as my Dom.

  “When we are in the playroom, you will address me as Sir, or Daddy. The choice is yours. When I let you speak, of course.” He gave a dark chuckle.

  Sir? Daddy? The two words bounced around my head. I didn’t know what I thought about either of them. When I’d been younger, Joel had seemed so much older than me, but now I was in my twenties, the difference was less. Could I see him as a daddy?

  Well, I was about to find out that I didn’t have a choice.

  He walked around me, surveying his handiwork. Then he took hold of the two metal things that were pinching my nipples and gave them a little tug. Twin darts of pain and arousal radiated through my breasts. “Nipple clamps.”

  He took hold of my arms. “Cuffs, wrist and ankles, for securing you in all kinds of interesting positions.”

  He pressed his hand against the thing that filled my mouth, and I choked a little. “A gag. Very useful for deep throat training.”

  He tugged on the thing around my neck. “And a collar, which you will always wear in this room to remind you of your role.”

  Then he stroked my ass in a rough, objectifying way.

  “Just one thing missing,” he said. “Go lie down on the horse. Facing that way.” He pointed to the leather bench where the saddles were usually kept. My feet felt heavy with the leather cuffs around them, and I shuffled over to it. Cautiously, I threw one leg over and climbed astride it. The old seasoned leather was surprisingly soft against my bare skin, and I spread my weight over it. He directed me to shuffle to the end, so my head hung over the edge and my ass was pointing up in the air. The nipple clamps were uncomfortable on the leather, and I wriggled until I’d adjusted them to a less tender position. Once I was lying more or less comfortably, he took my hands and cuffed them behind my back.

  I felt very vulnerable like this, with my hands restricted, my ass lifted and exposed.

  Joel disappeared from sight again, then something hard pressed against my asshole. His cock? Do I want it there again?