The Wicked Horse Boxed Set (+Wicked Bond [5])

by Sawyer Bennett

  Do I care?

  Apparently I don't, because I pull out and drive forward again, an animalistic snarl rumbling out of me as our skin cracks against each other. I should slow down.

  Go faster, for sure.

  Ask her if she's okay.

  "Feels... good," Sloane pants.

  Thank fuck.

  So I go faster.

  My gaze goes down and I watch as I ram in and out of her, finesse completely forgotten at this point. Pull her ass cheeks apart again, graze a finger over her tight hole, and she shivers.

  That makes me smile but in no way lessens the force of my tunneling thrusts inside of her. I bring my finger to my mouth, lube it with my saliva, and bring it back down to her anus. Rubbing it around slowly while I fuck her, I ask, "Ever been fucked back here?"

  Sloane shakes her head violently in between gasps and moans. I push the tip of my finger in her ass, and she cries out in pleasure.

  Fuck, I groan internally. There are so many nasty things I'd like to do to her body. Cause her to scream out in pleasure... maybe with a bite of pain. I'd like to redden those cheeks with embarrassment over some of the things I would do, and then watch her flush even darker when she comes.

  In fact, I want her to come right now.

  Even though it knocks me off my pace just a tad, I manage to reach my other arm around her front while keeping the tip of my finger in her ass. I easily find her clit, because I could find that in the dark, and start to circle it roughly with the tips of my fingers. I lightly pump my finger in her ass, never taking it any deeper than the first knuckle. I don't want to show her all my tricks tonight.

  Wait! What?

  That would imply I want a second night with her.

  Here I am... haven't even fucking busted my nut... don't even know if it will be any good, and I'm already thinking about another hookup with her?

  No fucking way.

  Chapter 6

  Sloane

  I'm not sure I can handle this.

  I mean... I'm a reasonably mature, adventurous, and daredevil type of woman. I'm sexually liberated, and while I may have never had a guy stick his finger in my ass, I can without a doubt say that it feels better than I ever imagined.

  And I have imagined it before. I've imagined all sorts of dirty things, read about even dirtier ones, but never thought those activities were really possible. Never really believed that there were men out there who would enjoy doing that.

  Seemed like fiction to me.

  Romance fiction to be precise.

  So even though my imagination is wild and vivid, and even though I'm not afraid of trying new and bold things, I really, truly, and utterly don't think I can handle the orgasm brewing inside of me right now. Even though my fingers are going numb from the belt around my wrists, my shoulders ache from my positioning, and I have a cock pounding inside of me that feels like it's at least the girth and length of a hard salami, I am more turned on right this very moment than I have ever been in my entire life. I'm so wet I can feel it trickling out of me with every slam of his huge dick, and I still want him to go harder and deeper into me.

  The minute he puts those fingers to my clit, I know I'm done for. Then he starts talking dirty to me again, and my orgasms starts bubbling.

  Yeah... you'd love having your ass fucked, Sloane.

  I'd have to build you up though. Would need to try out some different plugs on you first.

  Have you ever worn a butt plug? I gasp out that I have not.

  You'll love it. I'll load you up and then eat your pussy. The orgasm will blow your mind, especially if I pull it out while you're coming.

  And that did it for me. I moan like a wounded animal as I start to come. Wave after shuddering wave of bliss seizes my body, holds me hostage with solid pulses of pleasure, and then I scream Cain's name when it finally tears free of me. I turn to press my face into my pillows to stem the noise.

  "So hot, Sloane," he growls as he fucks me harder. "So sexy when you come all around me like that... strangling my cock."

  The force of my climax seems to turn Cain on even more. His hips slap against my ass in a frenzy, his hands now both back at my hips to hold me steady. He thrusts so hard that he slams my body down into the mattress, goes still, and then presses his face into the back of my neck while he starts to unload.

  He lets it out with one long groan of satisfaction, grinding his pelvis against my ass as he lets my body milk him. He lies on top of me, pressing the metal of the buckle into my wrists with his weight constricting my lungs. But only for a moment, as if he knows that's not exactly comfortable, and then he's rolling off me, pulling that big and still-hard dick out, leaving me slightly sore and empty feeling.

  I hear him pull the condom off--no clue what he does with it--and then his hands are working at the belt securing my wrists. He pulls it free and rubs my skin briskly. When he lets me go, I pull my arms forward and roll to my side toward him. His hand is there once again brushing the hair from my face.

  Cain is lying on his side, facing me with his head resting in the palm of his hand. His eyes are lazy and his smile mellow as he stares at me. I prop my elbow up on the mattress, rest my head in my hand--mimicking his posture--and look down at the blue quilt on my bed.

  Taking stock of my feelings, I'm not quite sure how to handle the afterglow of certain awkwardness. I just had the most mind-blowing sex of my entire life, but there was almost zero intimacy. It was truly about doing what felt good and decadent, yet I can't help feel that it was lacking in some respects.

  "Looks like some serious thoughts going on inside that pretty head," Cain says quietly, and I raise my eyes to his.

  "You didn't even kiss me," I say softly, dropping my gaze again with an embarrassed smile.

  I feel his fingers under my chin, and then he's pushing upward so I look back at him. His eyes are not exactly kind, but there is a knowing sympathy there. I think it might be pity for me that I'm not recognizing this for what it was.

  Just some hot and dirty sex.

  "Strike that thought," I say quickly, completely embarrassed I'd even bring that up. I'm off focus here, reminding myself I have a job to do and Cain Bonham is not someone who wants to get involved with a doe-eyed innocent who wants sweet kisses while she's being made love to.

  Rolling away from him, I try to change the subject. "I'm going to get a bottle of water. Do you want one?"

  I don't even make a complete rotation because in a nanosecond, I'm on my back. Cain is on top of me, covering my body with his. He holds his weight off my torso by pushing his elbows into the mattress, but I can feel his shaft, now semi-hard and wet, laying against my stomach.

  He intently stares down at me. "That was definitely an oversight on my part."

  Lowering his face, he brushes his lips against mine before pulling up to look at me. "You have the softest lips. I've wanted to kiss them all night, but I got too caught up in the need to fuck you."

  My eyes flutter closed, and my heart thumps madly over his seductively sweet words. His mouth presses back against mine, pushes at me, and I open up. Angling his head, Cain kisses me slowly and surely, making me very much aware that he likes doing it by the rumble in his chest. My hands go to his hair, rubbing at the short bristles in the back, but then he pulls up again.

  "In fact," he says slyly, "there are all kinds of places I want to kiss you."

  "Like where?" I whisper, barely able to get enough air in my lungs to get the words out.

  "Let me just show you," he says, his mouth going to my jaw.

  It slides over to my ear, where he gently bites me.

  Back to my jaw.

  Glides warm lips down my neck to my collarbone, where he lightly sucks.

  Cain moves his body down, pressing soft kisses over the center of my chest. He tilts his face, moves a fraction of an inch lower, and licks a nipple.

  Tilts his face the other way, puts more pressure on that arm, and then bites at the other nipple. My hands go flyin
g back up to his head as I let out a sharp cry.

  Cain pushes further down my body, layering my stomach with soft touches of his mouth that cause shivers to sling up and down my spine. He takes a brief pause, lifts his head slightly, and looks up at me. "You said something about multiple orgasms earlier. We've got some work to do still."

  "Oh, man," I mutter, and then his mouth is back on me again.

  For a moment after Cain pulled out of me, I felt the keen absence of something as simple as an intimate kiss. Now though, as he moves lower and lower down my body, layering dozens of kisses, licks, and nips to my skin, I find myself lost in confusion as to what this is.

  When fingers push into me and he buries his face between my legs, intent on giving me those multiple orgasms, I find no clarity as to whether this is truly just physical attraction and a quest for a mutually beneficial release, or if Cain wants to indulge in something a little deeper.

  Would he want more of a connection with me?

  As his tongue flutters against me, causing my blood to race and a throbbing need to start building again between my legs, I have to wonder if I even really care. I'm not sure I can worry about a connection to a man who I ultimately intend to use, but I can't deny... that first kiss. The way he said he wanted to kiss me all night.

  I just don't know what to think.

  So instead, I decide to just give in to feeling and I let my mind drift, intent on experiencing the bliss of Cain Bonham eating me out.

  *

  The minute I wake up, I know Cain is gone. I lift my head and peer at the clock, realizing it's a little after four in the morning once the numbers clear up to my blurry vision. I roll over onto my back, groaning at my sore muscles.

  My neck, shoulders, and lower back are all sore.

  My wrists burn from the leather that rubbed against them.

  There's a throbbing ache between my legs, and because I got an up close and personal look at the true size of his dick just before I sucked on it, I'm not surprised. I'm going to be sore there for a few days I bet.

  I let my head flop down on the pillow and smile to myself because it was so worth it. For almost four hours straight, we did not stop. We may not have been actually fucking for that four hours, but we were touching and kissing and licking and groping and urging the other one to get ready for more fucking.

  God, no wonder I'm so sore. If Cain's dick wasn't in me, his tongue or fingers were. He took seriously the challenge of giving me multiple orgasms and would not stop eating me out that first round until I came three times. The third one was a struggle for me because I got all up inside my own head, worried about him being uncomfortable or getting tired or bored, but he diligently dragged it out of me, smiling up at me in triumph when I stopped shaking. By that time, he was hard again and he fucked me for a second time. This time on my back with my legs up over his shoulders.

  The rest of the time is a blur. His face was back between my legs, my mouth was on his dick, and his finger was in my ass again. My nipples are sore from him pinching them, and I even got brave and ran my finger along the rim of his ass. He groaned, and if I were a braver girl, I would have done more.

  Maybe next time.

  If there is a next time.

  All I know is that after the last time we had sex, which was doggie style again, I collapsed onto my stomach and was asleep before he even pulled out of me. I have no clue if he stayed to cuddle or got dressed and left, but I was completely out of it from exhaustion.

  But today is a new day, and now I have to figure out how to play this.

  He's the only lead I have on this alleged sex club and Governor Hayes' tie to it, unless I want to track down Colton Stokes and try to get some more info out of him. I have to say, the notion of using Cain in that way doesn't appeal to me, but the prospect of not seeing him again doesn't either. By continuing to pursue him, I can serve the story's interest as well as my own.

  Cain fascinates me. The notion that he's involved in the sex club does as well, because he whispered enough dirty things to me tonight that my mind is spinning with possibilities. Even as sore and as used as I feel right now, I'm craving to learn more.

  I just know he can teach me more.

  Maybe I'll just play it casual... see if he contacts me. While he didn't ask for my number or anything, we did talk enough during some short periods of rest that he knows where I work. Or maybe I'll go hang out at The Wicked Horse and see if I can tempt him again. All I really know is that I simply can't go back to Brant with a big, fat "sorry I couldn't find anything". Either I have to prove there's a story or I have to go back and prove to him that there's nothing.

  Either way, I still have a job to do.

  Chapter 7

  Cain

  "How much longer will this take?" I ask as I lean up against the concrete wall of The Silo, just to the left of the entrance door.

  Luke Colson is placing the last of the screws in the new security panel he just installed. He's the best around these parts when it comes to security. With the promise of a bonus if he could get out here today, he's just about finished with the new password panel to allow members in and keep disavowed members away.

  "About another fifteen minutes to get the programming done. Then I'll have to activate all the fobs you asked for," he says in between tightening the screws.

  Luke doesn't question why we ordered a hundred and fifty remote security access fobs. In his job, he's learned to not ask what he shouldn't and just do his work well. That's why he'll get an extra bonus in addition to his regular fee.

  "And there's no problem in rigging up the same type of panel to the new gate we're installing?" I ask as I push away from the wall.

  "Nope," he says confidently. "You get the gate installed with the specifications I gave you, and I can easily adapt a locking panel to it. Same fobs will grant access."

  This is a relief because while it was easy enough to tighten security on The Silo's door, we still had to worry about all of our fantasy cabins. There are thirteen cabins in all built behind The Silo. A dirt road from the parking lot of The Wicked Horse connects them but until now, anyone could drive down it if they were curious. Woolf lent a couple of his ranch hands to come out and install the gate today, and Luke will wrap up his work by installing a security panel to the lock. Then we should be all set.

  "I'll be back in a few minutes," I tell Luke. He doesn't need me here hovering and besides, there's something I need inside The Silo.

  Opening the door, I step into the cool hallway lit by dim sconces. From the outside, The Silo is exactly what it sounds like. A large, round building made of concrete staves and outfitted with a white-domed top and a grain elevator on the outside. From the inside, it's nothing like an actual silo and everything like what a fantasy sex club should be like.

  It's approximately one-hundred and fifty feet in diameter with seven rooms constructed around the perimeter. A small, intersecting hallway from the entrance hall leads left and right, wrapping around the entirety behind the seven rooms. Concrete walls keep the rooms separated except for the interior wall that is solid glass, which is all the better for members to view the debauchery that goes on inside those rooms.

  Some of the rooms are set up to accommodate certain proclivities... Gang Bang, BDSM, Swinger, Menage, and Fetish. There's a "performance" room with just a single bed draped in black silk that anyone can use who's in the mood to be the star of their own fantasy show. Hell, once I was bored and laid on the bed, just jacking off while people watched. It's a good thing I don't get performance anxiety because that would have been embarrassing.

  I make the short walk down the hallway to the center of The Silo. It's an open area with a round, black lacquered bar that sits in the center. No one is tending it now as not many members are into drinking at ten in the morning. But someone will be on duty by lunchtime. Though no food or alcohol are served between 2AM and noon the next day, The Silo is opened 24/7 for all members who want a place to escape to and fuck.
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br />   Moaning sounds filter in muted tones, and I turn my head to see someone in one of the group sex rooms. A single overhead light is on, clearly illuminating the occupants. My jaw drops slightly, not over what I'm seeing because I've seen it all and done most of what I've seen, but by who I'm seeing in there.

  Angel, Rand, and Logan.

  Okay, not surprised really to see Rand and Logan. They're both active members of the club and fuck around with each other on occasion. They're not gay, but they are adventurous and will try anything. From what I can tell, they've both liked most of what they've tried because those two guys will visit most of the various room and cabins in a week's time, making the rounds to the multitude of different types of sex that are available.

  What does surprise me, however, is our DJ Angel. The woman has a voice so smoky rich she could probably make a man or woman orgasm with that alone, which is one of the reasons Woolf and Bridger originally hired her. She's also a prominent player in The Silo, so I'm not necessarily surprised to see her here. But not only is she a revered fantasy maker, she is one seriously hardcore dominant. So yeah... I'm stunned to see her lying on her back, legs spread wide, getting fucked by Rand, who happens to be holding onto a collar locked tight around Angel's throat.

  Never in a million years did I think I'd see that woman give up control, especially since I know she enjoys pegging men up the ass and having them lick her feet.

  My cock twitches as I watch them. While Rand is buried balls deep and rocking into Angel, Logan has his cock stuffed into Rand's ass. All three are groaning and grunting with unrestrained pleasure. It's hot as fuck to watch as they heave and undulate, and if I didn't have places to go and people to see, I'd unzip my jeans and rub one off to this spectacular show.

  But I do have things to do so I turn my back on them and head past the bar to a small utility closet that's been built in between the BDSM and Fetish rooms. It holds "supplies" that are delivered here almost as regularly as the food, liquor, and beer are. Bridger has been able to find some seriously freaky toys and is always trying to come up with new and adventurous ways to play around with people. The other day, he told me he bought an industrial design vibrator that will pound repetitively into a woman--much like an old-fashioned jackhammer. I cannot wait to see that in play.