Cowboy Doms Collection

by BJ Wane

  Mitchell didn’t know what got to him more, Lillian’s acceptance of everything he’d introduced her to thus far or the tight contractions of her slick heat squeezing his cock. Yes, he thought with licks of pleasure traversing up and down his pummeling shaft, it had been weeks since he’d indulged in fucking a sub, but he’d abstained for a full year following Abbie’s death and hadn’t experienced this intense conflagration of gripping satisfaction when he’d first returned to their Denver club.

  Tabling those thoughts in favor of enjoying the snug, welcoming pussy pulling his climax up from his balls, he released the last anal bead, relishing the unconscious lift of her ass and shuddering, sweat-dampened body. Leaning over, he braced his hands on the bench at her sides, grunting as he proceeded to ride her hard and fast with rapid hip-jerking thrusts.

  Lillian’s second climax spasmed around his pistoning shaft, the final, irresistible lure to letting go with his own orgasm. His head filled with the euphoria of pleasure spewing up his cock and bursting into the latex cover. The bench shook from the force of his ramming hips but she continued to embrace his rough possession with toe-pushing ass-lifting that provided a soft cushion for him to land on.

  It took several seconds to clear his head and get his breath back as he soaked up the tiny quivers of her swollen, wet muscles still teasing his flesh. Attuned to her every sound and movement, he heard the moment her heavy breathing and satisfied moans hitched into a tortured sob, and then another and another.

  Lifting off her, Mitchell released her wrists with one hand while removing the condom with the other. Coming around the bench, he discarded the protection in a bin and reached for her shaking shoulders, guessing the dam burst on her pent-up emotions before she could rouse from the euphoria enough to put her shields back up.

  “I’ve got you, Lillian.” Her weeping continued as she stood and allowed him to pull up her panties without a word. She didn’t snipe or complain when he lifted her, just buried her face in his shoulder and shook with the strength of her torrential outburst as he carried her downstairs and into the secluded nook, away from curious, concerned eyes.

  This breakdown, he suspected as he settled on the small sofa behind plant-topped half-walls, centered more on grief than what her first lifestyle scene revealed about her sexual makeup. She was a strong woman and would either embrace that new knowledge about herself or walk away from exploring it further. But he knew only too well there was no way to dismiss the agonizing heartbreak of loss that cut so deep it left you numb for months. Her grief was still in its infancy compared to his, which meant she was still coming to terms with her sister’s death, with the fact she would never see or speak with her again, that their special bond was forever severed.

  His heart ached as she burrowed deeper with a wrenching, watery hiccup and he recalled the devastation and pain of losing Abbie. Tightening his arms around her shivering body, he leaned his head back and let her cry it out, wishing there was something, anything he could say or do to ease her pain.

  Devin entered the quiet corner holding out Lillian’s black skirt with a worried look in his dark blue eyes. “Is she all right?”

  “She will be, she just doesn’t know it yet.” His friend must have seen Mitchell’s own sorrow reflected on his face because he nodded and laid the garment on the arm of the sofa.

  “Greg and I will be at the bar with Kelsey. If you need her, or Nan, text one of us.”

  Damn, it was good to allow himself the benefits of friendships again. “Thanks. Appreciate it.” As soon as Devin left, Lillian tensed and pulled away.

  Dropping his arms, he let her get to her feet and reach for her skirt. She pulled it on in silence, keeping her splotched, tear-streaked face averted. He could empathize with her need to be alone, to work on assimilating through what prompted her loss of control. Once she did that, the questions about her compliance upstairs would start.

  “I need to find Nan, see if she’s ready to leave,” Lillian said, her voice scratchy as she turned to face him with a closed expression.

  Understanding made him more inclined to give her space, but not to turn over her welfare to someone else. Pushing to his feet, he grabbed her hand. “I’ll take you. Returning to Willow Springs is out of Nan’s way and it’s ridiculous since we’re going to the same location.”

  “You’re ready to go? Isn’t it early for you?”

  “No.”

  They stopped at the bar, where Dan was now serving, to let him and Nan know they were leaving. The satisfied glow in Nan’s eyes and rosy complexion were telltale signs of Dan’s expertise in seeing to his wife’s needs. The smile hovering on her lips reminded Mitchell how much he used to enjoy assuaging Abbie’s cravings. With a jolt, he realized he had derived as much contentment from introducing Lillian to the club scene and public play as he’d had pleasuring his spouse. It was time, he decided, to do some soul-searching and figure out what it was about Lillian that stoked feelings he thought he’d buried with Abbie.

  “I’m taking Lillian home,” he addressed Nan before looking at her husband. “Do you mind making my excuses for skipping out on monitor duty tonight?”

  One glance at Lillian’s ravaged face was all Dan needed to give his support. “No problem, we have plenty of help even without Caden and Connor. Lillian, I hope we see you again.”

  Nan reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’ll call you,” was all she said, but it was enough for Lillian to nod in appreciation.

  “Okay, thanks. Goodnight.”

  As Mitchell walked her out and she continued to ignore him, he was honest enough with himself to admit to the dent she’d put in his ego almost from their first encounter. He’d had women come on to him over the years, as both a Dom and a doctor, a few disregarding his marital status until he set them straight. Lillian had made her disinterest in him clear from the onset. He enjoyed tonight more than he thought he would, her telling expressions, bravado in going through with a scene and the tight clasp of her wet pussy pleasing him in different ways. Her meltdown affected him on a different level, one that tugged at those emotions he thought had died three years ago.

  Because he found himself working through his own affecting upheaval, he allowed her to stay silent until he parked in front of his garage. Turning in the seat, he stated quietly, “Grief isn’t something you can rush or put a time limit on. I can tell you it will lessen and getting through the days will get easier, but not when. How did your sister die?”

  He wasn’t sure she would answer, but she took a shuddering breath, let it out on a sigh and said, “A brain aneurysm, followed by six weeks in a coma. I know she never would have recovered, or if she’d come out of it, she would have had severe brain damage and I’m not sure that would have been any easier to live with.”

  Mitchell winced. What she described was truly a worst-case scenario for any family member to have to cope with. “I’m sorry. My wife suffered through cancer treatments before she passed away and it took me a long time to see past my grief enough to admit relief that she was free of that agony. Come on. I’ll walk you up. Go to bed, you need the sleep.”

  He came around the SUV, not surprised she hadn’t waited for him to open the door. Sidestepping his reach for her hand, she started for the stairs, her back as rigid as her tone. “You’re ordering me around again, and I don’t need you to walk me up.”

  “Too bad.” Moving ahead of her, he climbed the stairs and held out his hand for the key. She slapped it into his palm with an exasperated huff that made his lips twitch. “Good girl,” he praised her and got the rise he’d expected.

  “I’m not a girl and don’t need your praise.”

  “It’s my job to know what you need.” Opening the door, he flicked on the overhead light and handed her back the key. “I aced anatomy, pet, and seen you naked. Trust me, you’re a girl. What?” he asked sharply, her nose crinkling as she sniffed and frowned.

  “Smells funny in here, smokey.”

  He caught a faint pungent od
or, not enough to pinpoint a source or name it. “Could be the furnace. It’s old. I’ll have someone out to check it this week.” Cupping her chin, he refused to let her jerk out of his hold, enjoying the flash in those amethyst eyes as he examined her face, ensuring she would be okay once he left. The temptation to lean down and kiss that mulish mouth was another indication his feelings for her were reaching a level he never thought to experience again. He hadn’t kissed a woman since Abbie. “Call me tonight if you have trouble getting to sleep.” Brushing his thumb across the plump softness of her lower lip, he rumbled, “Goodnight, Lillian.”

  Lillian locked the door behind Mitchell and leaned against it, still working on coming to grips with her shattered physical and emotional control. She had caved to his sexual dominance as fast as she’d crumbled into an uncontrollable sobbing heap afterward. From what she witnessed, he’d gone easy on her, likely due to her inexperience and denial. But there was more than the destruction of her preconceived notions about herself she was having trouble reconciling with. The welcoming comfort of his arms wrapped around her, his caring, protective hold and considerate silence while she fell apart had barely registered until he released her to feel bereft and alone.

  Pushing away from the door, Lillian bemoaned the lingering ache for Mitchell’s solicitous attention that was so unlike her. Her body still vibrated with pleasure she’d reaped from taking his orders and his cock, her mind numb from the unexpected meltdown and continuing need for his comfort. She needed to get a handle on this undesirable complication with a man who defined everything she disliked about the opposite sex.

  She was too drained to reason it all out tonight, so she padded to the computer to check her email before going to bed. Her agent was working on several promotions for her and the sooner she heard back from him, the quicker she could plan where to go from here. Her nose twitched from the faint odor that was strong enough on this side of the room to make her eyes water the same as she suffered during allergy season. The low hum of the furnace gave credence to Mitchell’s explanation until she sat down at the corner desk and the screen popped up as if she hadn’t shut it down before leaving. A coil of suspicion cramped her abdomen as she inspected the desk and floor for signs someone had been in here.

  Not seeing anything, she relaxed and blamed exhaustion for her paranoid thoughts, went through her emails without finding anything from her agent and shut down the computer and her wayward emotions for the night.

  Chapter 10

  Bryan returned to his motel room, the drink he stopped for after leaving Lillian’s apartment empty handed doing little to ease his frustration. Dropping onto the bed, he locked his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling, wishing it weren’t too late to call the hospital and check on Brad. The hour he risked searching her computer and then the apartment had yielded nothing. His brother never had made protecting him easy. The lectures during Brad’s rebellious teen years had fallen on deaf ears and he’d despaired of his younger sibling ever putting his high IQ to good use. And then Brad had surprised him by acing four years of college in three and getting accepted into medical school. There had been a few bumps along the way, such as DUIs and two ex-girlfriends who filed assault charges after he’d broken off the relationship.

  As if, he snorted. No one, least of all him believed their unsubstantiated, wild accusations. Brad was never without a line of women waiting to jump at the chance to enter into an affair with one of the city’s most successful, wealthiest doctors and the few who were awarded the privilege each thought she would be the one he would keep. He could see Brad getting frustrated with a woman who refused to walk away without causing a scene when he was done with her, but a few bruises didn’t add up to assault.

  But attacking his brother with enough surprise and force to leave him with a debilitating head wound was battery, and unforgivable in his book. No way would he return home without destroying those pictures first. He refused to let her drag Brad’s good name and reputation through the mud because she couldn’t accept he was done with her. She needed to pay for her sins. He would have to get hold of her phone somehow, as that was the next logical device where he would find anything. Assuming she carried it with her, he needed to take care plotting his next step. Breaking in again would be the easy part considering the quick way he’d manipulated the flimsy lock tonight without leaving a trace. Entering the residence while she was sleeping increased the risk to him and his career, but what other choice did she leave him?

  Unfortunately, time was not on his side. Between the two-day drive here and the days of tracking her whereabouts, he didn’t have the luxury of waiting. If Bryan could get in tomorrow night, grab her phone and get out quick, Lillian would never suspect or hear a thing. With luck, she’d think she lost her cell, he could dispose of it and the photos and return to Utah to assist Brad in filing a complaint he would ensure resulted in charges.

  As long as everything went according to plan.

  Mitchell spent Sunday resisting the urge to check on Lillian, reminding himself she was fine when he left her last night. That determined independence continued to annoy him when he was in Dom mode as much as he admired the strength it took to make her way alone in the world. After the numerous cases of abuse he’d seen come through the emergency room over the years, he had gotten a good idea of how difficult it was for women to walk away from such toxic relationships. He still didn’t know much about Lillian’s circumstances, and that was on him. He hadn’t pushed, figuring first, they wouldn’t see each other again after she left the cabin and second, when they did, their opposing personalities and desires would prevent any type of relationship from forming.

  It was hard to admit he was wrong, and this morning, even more difficult to acknowledge he hadn’t a clue where to go from here. The temptation to kiss her and reluctance to walk away last night were additional signs he should take the time for soul-searching before going forward. Was he ready and willing to explore taking their odd pairing further than any other relationship since losing Abbie? And if so, how to get Lillian on board with the idea remained an obstacle.

  To take his mind off the promise of her acceptance of what she’d not only witnessed last night but everything he’d put her through, he trudged up to the attic to go through Abbie’s things, a chore he’d put off for too long. Opening the door to the musty odor, he flicked on the light, his eyes landing on her wedding dress hanging in the corner. Padding over to it, he fingered the lacey cream satin, picturing her shy smile as she’d walked toward him down the aisle. The memories could still produce a small pang and there would always be a small corner of his heart just for her and the special bond they had shared as both husband and wife and Dom/sub.

  Would he really accept anything less in another relationship? Lillian’s flashing eyes and taunting smirks replaced Abbie’s downcast subservience and soft smiles of pleasure at doing his bidding. Lillian would challenge him, and maybe, since he had traded the everyday stress of sixty-hour workweeks as the head ER physician and trauma surgeon at a large hospital for the less time-consuming, mentally straining job of family practitioner, he would find the change stimulating. But would Lillian?

  Mitchell took the dress off the rack and folded it up. Grabbing an empty box, he started gathering other items he had stashed up here when he moved in, at the time, still unable to let go of anything. With luck, bringing closure to one part of his life would help decide which path to take toward a possible new beginning.

  Lillian took off early Sunday morning, enjoyed a big breakfast at the diner and visiting with people she was still getting to know. By the time she left, the sun shone high in the sky, the temperature already hitting the fifty-degree mark. She drove to the city park, acres of trees surrounding a small lake she discovered a few days ago. The picnic tables were empty but a few kids played on the playground and several people were taking advantage of the nice day to follow the walking path that wound in and out of the woods. Paddleboats sat docked but she coul
d picture them in use during the summer months. After taking several pictures, she sat at a table with her sketch pad, sighing as she opened it to the picture of Liana she’d drawn at Mitchell’s cabin.

  As always, sorrow threatened to bring her down, just like this morning when she’d first awoken and wanted to talk to Liana about her tumultuous feelings over surrendering to Mitchell and his sexual preferences. It wasn’t the first time and, God help her, she hoped it wouldn’t be the last. She could call Nan or Avery to talk out her confusion, but as welcoming and encouraging as her new friends were, they lacked the years of knowing her better than anyone else and the insight her special bond with her twin had offered.

  “What do you say, sis? Is it time to pack up and go? Out of sight, out of mind, that’s all I need to get over this weird infatuation, right?” The picture didn’t answer, her mumblings drawing curious looks from a couple walking by and an immediate, painful twinge. The longer she stayed in Willow Springs, the more she wanted to stick around. Flipping the page over, she eyed the sketch of Mitchell and her heart turned over, proof she didn’t need her sister to tell her she didn’t want to go. Not yet.

  She spent another hour at the park drawing and then returned to the apartment to paint. Nan called, asking how she was handling her first BDSM scene, her concern reminding Lillian of everyone’s unconditional acceptance of her into their close-knit group of friends. “Like you’ve been telling me, Doctor Mitchell is a hard man to resist,” she’d admitted. She didn’t mention embracing the physical responses to his sexual control was easy compared to the dent her acceptance put in her sworn independent nature. She couldn’t have it both ways – a sexually submissive desire while keeping her liberated views – could she? Wasn’t that at the root of her constant indecision since meeting Mitchell?