How To Rope A Wild Cowboy (Silver Springs Ranch Book 1)

by Anya Summers

  His hot gaze raked her form. He reached out, cupped a globe in his hand, kneaded the mound.

  “Straddle my lap, Grace. Then lift up and lean forward so I can suck on these.” He flicked her nipple and leaned back, waiting for her to comply.

  Grace was beyond aroused, and the man had barely touched her. But it was too late to back out now. With care and precision, she straddled his lap. The eroticism of the moment, of being naked while he was still fully clothed, was not lost on her. Her fingers itched to touch him.

  Putting a hand on his uninjured shoulder for balance, she rose up and leaned forward until her breasts, and the hard points of her nipples were level with his mouth. Entranced, she watched his tongue dart out and swipe against the distended flesh. Pleasure shot from her tit all the way to her sex.

  He curled his tongue around the bud and drew the left nipple into his mouth while his right hand continued to knead the right mound, tugging and twisting the peak while he suckled at her breast.

  His greedy mouth sucked hard, drawing her flesh deep inside. Her head fell back at the exquisite sensations. Then his hand trailed down, his rough, calloused palm delving between her folds to her tiny jewel, and he growled around her breast. His teeth nipped the bud of her nipple while the pads of his fingers circled and teased her clit.

  Two fingers thrust inside her sheath, and her pussy clenched around the intrusion. “Oh god.”

  She rocked her hips as his fingers stroked deep. Her body had already been primed from earlier today. And thinking of the way his tongue had treated her sex left her writhing against his hand. She’d wanted him then, to feel his cock pound away inside her pussy.

  His mouth released her breast with a slight pop. “I need to be inside you, Grace. I need to fuck you.”

  She glanced at him, at the dark need clouding his gaze as his fingers continued to pump in deep strokes, rubbing against her G-spot and driving her out of her damn mind. Who cared why he seemed to be able to make her hot and achy with a simple look in her direction? She’d never wanted a man more, never thought she would be one of those women who reveled in pleasure. And she wanted to lap it up, wanted to experience all he had to give.

  Before Emmett’s advent into her life, sex had been a necessary body function which, if she was lucky, she’d get an orgasm from. But she had never experienced this carnal, got to have it now or I will die, passion that eclipsed all else. “Yes.”

  He withdrew his fingers and lifted them up to his mouth, sucking her juices from them. It was the most erotic thing a man had ever done. She reveled in the pleasure on his face, like he’d been treated to the most delectable dessert ever.

  Grace pulled at the waistband of his sweats. Now that she wasn’t holding back, need pumped through her like a drumbeat.

  “We need a condom. I have them in my bedroom nightstand.” He hissed through his teeth when she circled his cock with her hand.

  “I’m on the pill, and am clean.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked huskily.

  “Yeah,” she replied.

  Emmett yanked her head back, slanted his lips over hers, and ravaged her mouth. His kiss was savage. She moaned and expelled a pent-up breath at the violence of his need. It excited her. God help her.

  His mouth left hers, skimmed along her jaw, and nipped her ear. “Now take my dick in that pretty pink cunt of yours,” he ordered in a low voice laden with command.

  Grace lifted her hips and fit the crown at her entrance. Her pussy quivered in expectation.

  “Thrust down, take me. Now,” he said through gritted teeth, like he was in the most exquisite pain.

  Keeping her gaze trained on his, she sank down with a roll of her hips, and enveloped his cock.

  Oh, Christ, he was huge—large enough that she rode the edge of pain as he stretched her tissues. His hand gripped her hip. “Ride me, hard and fast, babe.”

  Grace undulated, rocking her hips so that he stroked deep inside. His shaft was long. On each downward thrust, the head hit the lip of her womb and, from this penetration angle, rubbed against her G-spot with each thrust and retreat. It drove her wild.

  She held on to the couch behind his head, mindful of his injured shoulder.

  “That’s it,” he growled, meeting her thrusts. “You’ve got such a sweet pussy. The way it grips me tight. I never imagined I’d get to feel you bareback, babe, but fuck me, it’s better than I could have dreamed.”

  He gripped her hair and tugged her head back, exposed her neck and nipped at her flesh. She moaned at the possessive move and thrust harder and faster, pistoning her hips as she rode him. Her fingers threaded into his hair and gripped, holding on as he sucked a nipple into his mouth. She arched back, feeding him the mound as she writhed, taking him in fast, deep thrusts.

  When his finger rubbed against her clit, the orgasm blasted through her system, catapulting her into the upper atmosphere.

  “Oh god,” she keened, bucking wildly on his member.

  Emmett bit down on her nipple, slammed his cock inside her, and moaned around her breast. His cock strained against her clenching tissues, filling her pussy with his semen. It caused a secondary flutter of orgasmic bliss through her. Her hips rocked again and again, riding the ecstasy until her body quivered with nothing but aftershocks.

  She rested her cheek on the top of his head. He still had a nipple resting in his mouth.

  Then he leaned back, and studied her face before gripping the back of her head and bringing her lips to his, claiming her mouth in a torrid, hot tangle of tongues and lips. He had the most carnal mouth. She’d just climaxed and yet, with a simple graze of his lips against hers, she wanted him again.

  He tore his mouth from hers. “Come into the bedroom with me, babe. I want to try some simple bondage with you; take you from behind.”

  Her pussy rippled around his member, which was still embedded inside her.

  What was she doing? She didn’t have one-night stands or sex with a man she hardly knew. It was all too soon, too fast. It terrified her that she could want him again. She shook her head. “I need to leave.”

  Fear had her on the move. She shoved away from him, and scrambled off his lap as if she’d scalded herself with hot water.

  He reached for her.

  “Grace, get back here.” The command rang out in the living room. “What the fuck is going on?”

  She shivered, feeling his semen slide down her inner thighs, and picked up her clothes, jamming her legs into her jeans. Not bothering to put her bra on as her panic increased, she slipped the material into her back pocket, and backed away from him with her flats in one hand while she slipped her top and sweater on as best as she could one handed. “Stay away, Emmett. This shouldn’t have happened. It can’t happen again. I won’t let it.”

  And then she ran out the door haunted by his image, by the fury in his gaze, still dressed except for his exposed, semi-hard cock covered with his spunk and her cream. She did not bother with putting her shoes on. Instead, she raced to her car barefoot and clambered inside, tossed her shoes on the passenger seat, and peeled out of his drive as if the hounds of hell were snapping at her heels.

  It didn’t matter that she was still buttery, her sex dripping with his semen. She couldn’t see him again. He controlled her too much, and it terrified her.

  She never should have stayed, never should have touched him. And she definitely never should have had sex with him. The fact that there was a part of her that berated her for running, that screamed at her to turn the car around and do exactly as Emmett asked, only made her terror that much more pronounced.

  She couldn’t see him again. And she wouldn’t, unless it was in a professional setting.

  11

  “Are you sure I can’t convince you to go dancing with me?” Colt asked, pulling his truck into the driveway. She glanced at him across the illuminated dashboard. On the few instances they’d met before, he had been sporting a cowboy hat, jeans, and boots. But tonight, he’d changed, and
looked like a businessman in black slacks, a royal blue shirt, and black dress shoes.

  She felt guilty being out with Colt tonight after last night with Emmett. “Yeah, I’m sure. It’s been a long week.”

  He threw the truck in park and tilted his head, studying her. “What’s making you frown, Grace? Tonight was supposed to be fun, not painful.”

  “I know. Sorry, I just think you have the wrong idea about me.”

  “Are you single?”

  “Well, yes, but…”

  “Do you plan on living your life that way?”

  “Uh, no. But you’re missing the point.” She shook her head as she tried to dissuade him from his course.

  “I don’t think I am. You want companionship that could one day lead to long term commitment, family, the whole nine yards?”

  “Of course.”

  He shrugged with a lopsided grin on his handsome face. “Then it’s clear: you just have to fall in love with me, and the rest will take care of itself. Did I mention that I’m quite well off?”

  She laughed. She couldn’t help herself. The man was incorrigible. “It’s not as simple as that, and you know it. Money or not. Look, Colt, I think you’re a nice, attractive man and enjoyed spending time with you tonight. But my life has changed radically in the last few weeks. I’m not necessarily looking to date anyone yet, not while I’m trying to find my way here. And I was hoping that for now, we could just be friends.”

  Grace hoped that would give her time to figure out what in the world was going on with Emmett without hurting Colt’s feelings. She was aware that she had told herself that she was done with Emmett, that she wouldn’t see him again. But as she thought about him, she had to press her thighs together at the memory of the prior night. She did the one thing she had told herself she wasn’t going to do—think about Emmett. About the way he had looked on the couch, the way he had felt inside her—and the fact was, she wanted to do it all over again, even though the thought of being in a relationship with him terrified her. She wasn’t afraid that he would physically hurt her, but that she wasn’t going to be able to keep an emotional distance if she continued to have sex with him.

  “Are you seeing someone else?” Colt asked with a pensive expression.

  Grace sighed. It was the elephant in the room of her life that she wasn’t ready to share with anyone. “Not exactly. I would say what I do have is in the it’s complicated category, and leave it at that.”

  “For the record, I don’t mind a little competition. Let me walk you to your door.”

  “You really don’t have to, Colt,” she said, hating herself because she was disappointing a really good, decent man about whose interest she should be tap dancing on the roof. But before she could stop him, the man was out of the truck and opening her door for her. She sighed; there was no point in arguing with him. He wanted to walk her to her door, it was fine.

  She accepted his offered hand and let him escort her up to the front door. She had her keys in hand, ready to escape. He took the keys from her, and opened the door. What was wrong with her? She should be thrilled. Colt was a true gentleman, if a little on the uber alpha side of things.

  So then why did she feel nothing for him except friendship?

  Before she could say goodnight and escape, Colt surprised her. He tugged her up against him and claimed her mouth. Shocked, she stood frozen. His lips were pleasant, persuasive—and didn’t cause any type of blip through her system. It was like the majority of kisses in her life had been: acceptable and rather dull, with the one glaring exception being Emmett.

  She pushed against Colt’s wide shoulders and he took the hint, ended the kiss, and gave her a heated smile.

  “I’d like to see you again,” he insisted.

  “Colt, I think we should just be friends. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I have anything more than friendship to offer you. And I don’t want to lead you on.”

  He sighed. “You got nothing from that kiss, did you?”

  “Honestly? No. You?”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head. “I wanted there to be, but it was more like…”

  “Kissing a sibling?” she offered.

  He winced. “Yeah. Doesn’t that beat all? I guess, friends it is.”

  She held out her hand for him to shake. “Friends.”

  Colt cocked his head while he shook her hand. “You wouldn’t happen to have any girlfriends who might come for a visit?”

  “If I do, you will be the first to know. Thanks for dinner. Next time, it’s my treat.” She leaned up and brushed her lips over his cheek.

  “Deal. Goodnight, doc.”

  “Night,” she murmured and headed inside, locking the door behind her.

  Well, that date had been a bust, although she did think they could be friends. She left her purse and keys in the kitchen before heading into her bedroom. It was time for pajamas, and was still early enough that she thought maybe she would try to find a movie to take her mind off things. Off Emmett.

  Once changed into a tank top and leggings, she pulled her hair up in a scrunchy into one of those messy buns people really didn’t want anyone else to see them in. In the kitchen, she poured herself a glass of merlot. She usually kept it to one glass a night, but after the frustrating week she’d had, she figured she deserved it.

  Her phone buzzed from the pocket in her purse. She yanked it out.

  “Doctor O’Neal,” she said out of ingrained habit.

  “Did you fuck him?” Emmett’s baritone chewed out, through what sounded like gritted teeth.

  “What? Like that is any of your business. Not all men consider a date only a success if they get laid.” Nor did she plan on enlightening him about the fact that she and Colt decided to be friends. That the one and only kiss she and Colt had shared had left her feeling rather awkward and unsatisfied.

  “Shows how much you know about men. Open your front door,” he ordered.

  No. He couldn’t be here.

  She marched to the front door, yanked it wide open, and stared, dumbfounded. What was the man thinking? Had he been waiting outside, watching her house until she returned from her date with Colt?

  Emmett stood in a domineering fashion on her front porch, his inky hair disheveled, a few days’ growth of dark stubble shrouding his kissable lips. He considered her in the light, his look dark, dangerous, and predatory—even wearing sweats and a tank top with his left arm in a sling. The man called to her on an elemental level. Her body purred, her sex clenched, and her belly fluttered. “What are you doing here? Did you drive? On the meds you are on—”

  He didn’t wait for an invitation. Emmett prowled inside, kicked the door shut with his foot, and backed her up against the foyer wall.

  “Relax, doc, I didn’t take the painkiller. But I do plan to take you.” He surveyed her form with a hungry, carnal gleam in his eye, stopping at her cleavage. “I’ve not been able to stop thinking about last night. I’ve jacked off a few times today just remembering the way your pussy felt around my dick.”

  Need pinged low in her belly, and she shivered. “Emmett.”

  “Babe, I’m going to restrain you and then fuck you. Don’t even try to deny that you want me when your body tells a different story. For the rest of the night, you will call me Sir or Master. That’s the proper term to use with your Dom. And your safeword is wildflower. It’s the scent you wear that always makes me stop and take notice. With me so far?”

  “But… Sir.” His uber dominance was intoxicating. Grace felt exhilarated. His dark, carnal ways called to a part of her she had long kept buried.

  “Hearing you call me Sir makes my dick hard as fuck.” He lowered his mouth and brushed it against hers—once, twice, until she sighed.

  And on that sigh, Emmett plundered. He kissed her and the rest of the world simply ceased to exist. He destroyed her resolve, calling her a fool for ever trying to deny that his touch electrified her being, and with merely a kiss. This was what had been mi
ssing in her kiss with Colt. This all-consuming, fiery passion. His mouth was hot and hungry as he possessed her, dragging her down into a miasma of dark desire. It was more potent and drugging than any alcohol, and her head swam—until she didn’t breathe unless it came from him.

  Tired of fighting her attraction and fear, she leaned into him and slid her hands into his hair. She surrendered to the fire he stoked with each thrust of his tongue as it danced with hers. She didn’t understand why he made her feel all these things, but he did. There was no denying it, no running from it—from him—any longer. There was no point, not when it felt like this, like her body was being re-forged as he kissed her, transforming her into a wanton, needy, sex-crazed woman, and he was the only one who could satisfy the ache.

  Emmett tore his mouth from hers and, panting, said, “Bedroom. Now. Normally I’d carry you, but that will have to wait until my shoulder’s healed.”

  “Are you sure, Emmett, you’re still healing, and I don’t think—”

  He pressed her against the wall, and she felt every inch of him. And god, but the man had a lot of inches.

  “Don’t think, feel. Don’t make me spank you,” he dared her.

  At the thought of that big hand of his smacking her butt, she trembled. She had researched erotic spankings, and always felt ashamed that it turned her on.

  “Hmmm, I think you like the idea of a spanking. Doc, you get more interesting by the minute. I think we need to try a spanking first, see how you react.”

  “But,” she sputtered, worried that if she had a taste of it, enjoyed it, she would never be able to go without it—and mayhap unable to go without him.

  “Rule number one in a Dom and sub relationship: no lying. If you lie, you will be punished. I tend to reach for the flogger or spanking as punishment. And right now, your body is telling me it wants to feel my hand across that pretty backside of yours. Living room should do.” He nudged her down the hall.