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

by Anya Summers

  In the living room, he steered her one-handed over to the plaid couch, and had a seat. Then he patted his muscled thighs and said, “I want you to lay that sweet ass of yours over my thighs, facing toward the sliding glass door, since I’m currently one-handed.”

  She stood there, shivering, aroused, and unsure whether to take the next step. Was she sealing her fate?

  “Moment of truth, Grace. You’re submissive. Deep down, you know that, and what’s more, you yearn for dominance, to experience cart blanche all the decadent, tawdry fantasies you’ve been denying yourself for years. There’s a part of you that craves what I can do to you. Stop lying to yourself. Deny your deep-seated need to submit if you can, if you dare.”

  “I can’t,” she admitted. On shaky legs, she lowered herself to her knees on the couch and positioned her body over his legs so that her bottom lay over his thighs. She dug her hands into the sofa cushions and couldn’t stop the tremor of fear from slicing through her.

  Emmett’s big hand caressed her back and bottom. “Relax. I’m going to go gentle on you as it’s your first time. Remember, your safeword is wildflower. If it gets to be too much, use it and I will stop. We’ll talk about it and adjust as needed. Understood?”

  “Yes,” she murmured, on edge. Her body felt like glass. One wrong move, and she would break into a thousand pieces.

  He smacked her bum just enough to make it sting. “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She whimpered when he snatched her leggings and panties down to her knees in a single move, exposing her bare bottom to his hot gaze.

  Emmett kneaded the nude globes. His fingers teased along her crease. Anticipation hummed along her skin. She was insane for doing this. It wasn’t how she was raised. She had never been struck in her life, not even by her parents growing up.

  “Just lovely. Anyone ever fuck this sweet hole?” His fingers grazed her back channel.

  She shook her head at the illicit, carnal thought of Emmett putting his big, fat cock there. “No.”

  He growled. “Then I will be the first.”

  She whimpered. In her deepest, darkest fantasies, she had imagined being taken that way, having a man fill her, own her in that depraved manner.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t take it tonight. We’ll need to train your pretty rosette with some plugs over the coming weeks before I do. Besides, I would rather have the use of my left arm back first,” he murmured, still rubbing her butt.

  He lulled her with his touch. She wondered if he could see how wet she was just from this. The first hard whack shocked her. Pain stole her breath. And the next one fell with the same amount of force. The sound reverberated. Her bottom burned. She gritted her teeth.

  The next slap encompassed both cheeks. She gasped at the pain. Her eyes watered. His hand cracked against her butt, grazed her pussy, and pleasure-infused lightning struck her system.

  She moaned. Loudly. Her eyes widened and she tilted her hips up for more. How had she gone without this her whole life?

  “Fuck, you’re a natural. I’m going to go a little harder and faster; use your safeword if you need it,” he commanded.

  Emmett peppered her behind with forceful whacks, the sound ringing out in the living room, and pleasure unlike anything Grace had ever known infused her being. She lowered her head to the couch, closed her eyes, and let go. It was the most instinctive thing in the world, like a key had finally been fitted in a lock and the lock opened.

  She heard a woman moaning as if from a distance and realized it was her. She lifted her hips up for more. She felt naughty and debauched and amazing. How had she waited so long to feel this exquisite and free?

  “Emmett,” she moaned.

  “I’ve got to say, you’ve surprised me, babe. And fuck but you’re drenched.” He stroked two fingers through her crease, then plunged those two digits inside.

  She mewled and rocked her hips, wanting, needing more. Emmett fucked her with his fingers, thrusting hard, fast, and deep. Her body teetered on an erotic edge. She writhed, reveling in the fingers plunging again and again. Her eyes rolled back when he added a third digit, stretching her sheath, and sent her body hurtling into bliss.

  She came. Hard—so hard, it jarred her teeth and she tossed her head back with a scream. “Oh god!”

  She rode the waves, her pussy spasmed around his fingers as the climax battered her defenses and left her limp as a cooked noodle over his thighs.

  Removing his fingers from her sex, he cupped her butt. “That was a beautiful sight. Now, let’s go into the bedroom. Again, I would carry you if I could, but for now I need you to get up and walk there under your own steam.”

  “Okay,” she murmured, feeling drunk on pleasure.

  One handed, he helped her to her feet. She yanked her pants up, then took his hand and drew him into her bedroom.

  “This will work perfectly.” He nodded toward the queen-sized bed. “Strip, and then get into bed while I fasten these.” He withdrew some black material from his pants pocket.

  She disrobed as he strode to the opposite side of the mattress and attached two lengths of rope with fleece-lined Velcro cuffs. One he attached to the headboard, and one to the footboard.

  “I want you to lie on your back facing toward me, and give me your wrists. We’re going to see how you respond to bondage,” he directed.

  Tossing her clothes on the chair in the corner, she padded toward the bed. Emmett disrobed, pulling his tank off without any assistance. He was moving much better than he had even a week ago. In another week or two, he might be able to start going without the shoulder brace. She admired his six pack, with the black happy trail bisecting it, and ending at his impressive cock. It jutted from his hips, all eight inches, and her stomach clenched in anticipation of the coming pleasure.

  “You’re getting better at that,” she said.

  “At what?” He was waiting for her on the bed with a cuff in his hand.

  “Working with just one hand. Shows progress.” She climbed up onto the mattress.

  “I’ll show you just how skilled I am with one hand,” he said darkly. Sexily.

  “I bet you will.” Grace stretched her arms above her head. Need pinged low, throbbing in her sex. She watched as he fastened the fleece around her wrists, putting her arms in a vee formation above her head.

  Chills raced down her spine. Grace had fantasized about being bound and having a man have his way with her. The air backed up in her lungs. Her nipples drew taut. Emmett strode back around the bed so that he was between her thighs.

  “I’m going to slide you down so your butt sits close to the ledge. This bed puts you at the perfect height, much like a fuck bench.” He tugged her down and parted her legs wide.

  “Now, there’s a sight. One of these days, I need to get you on a sawhorse, in complete lockdown, and fuck both your holes for hours.”

  She moaned at the comment. “Yes.”

  He lifted his gaze from her pussy. “And I want those tits in clamps, your legs restrained, and a plug in that pretty back hole. But for now, I’m going to eat your cunt. I want to hear your moans. Don’t be shy, doc, understood?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He leaned over her restrained form and ravaged her mouth, leaving her aching and chasing after his lips when he lifted his head. Hot, hungry, open-mouthed kisses trailed down her neck to the swell of her breast. He enveloped a nipple, sucking her flesh hard and deep. She arched her back, feeding him the mound, as greedy for his touch as he was for her responses.

  He teased and nipped at the bud until it was swollen red from his attention before he moved to its twin and repeated the process. The whole time, he watched her. She wasn’t quiet. When he bit down on her nipple, the razor-sharp pleasure made her gasp and mewl.

  But then he left her breasts, the nipples raw, bite marks around the globes. He moved lower until his face was hovering between her thighs. “I’ve been dreaming of tasting your pussy again. Come as many times as you need to, because I plan
to feast before I fuck you.”

  She moaned.

  He chuckled. “I love that you enjoy dirty talk, doc. You wear those prim and proper suits but deep down, you’re naughty and hedonistic. Those things arouse the fuck out of me, make me want to do all manner of dirty things to you.”

  Before she could respond, he swiped his tongue through her folds.

  The man had a singularly talented tongue. He knew precisely how to draw the erotic torture out, circling her clitoris with his tongue in lazy, gentle strokes before adding fast flicks meant to drive her wild. Then he would slowly lap at her nub, like a cat who had found some cream which was going to take hours to lick up. In this position, her butt burned deliciously from her spanking. Was it strange that she wanted him to spank her again? Wanted him to do all the naughty things he’d promised, and even add a few fantasies of her own?

  “Please!” She cried out, and writhed against his mouth, his tongue thrusting, jabbing into her as he kept her body on a heightened edge.

  Emmett swatted her pussy. Her hips bucked and her back arched in delight. “Ah.”

  She wanted to reach down and rub her clit. Just a few hard, fast strokes, and she would climax. She could feel it closing in with every swipe of his tongue.

  “Please what?” His words were muffled against her pussy.

  “Please, Sir, I need…”

  “Tell me. I will give it to you, but you have to be vocal about it,” he chided, and swatted her pussy again.

  “I need to come. Please make me, Sir.”

  “I will in a moment. I’m enjoying your cream far too much. That reminds me. Did you let Colt fuck you?” He bit down on her swollen clit.

  Her body threshed at the delirious pleasure pain. She tossed her head from side to side. “No, Sir.”

  “Did he touch you, touch this?” He thrust two fingers inside her channel.

  “No.”

  “And who does this pussy belong to?”

  Her eyes crossed at his stroking fingers, plunging fast and deep. “Ah, god, I—” Tendrils of her climax wound through her, coalescing, drawing her core tighter. She twisted and whimpered when he removed his fingers.

  “Who does this pussy belong to?” he growled, and smacked her sex.

  Pleasure flash-fried her brain and she screamed, her back arched. “You, Sir. Only you.”

  He rose between her parted thighs, aligned the head of his cock with her channel, and thrust hard and deep until his balls slapped against her butt. The climax struck her blind.

  “Emmett,” she wailed, her arms stretching against the restraints. Her pussy clamped and quaked around his shaft. He kept his dick buried balls deep as she rode the pinnacle waves of ecstasy battering her.

  Only when her shudders subsided did he withdraw until just the head remained, and then slammed home with enough force that she saw stars explode behind her closed lids. With a hand on her hip, he pounded his length into her with hard, slapping thrusts. She’d never felt so helpless or aroused.

  “Oh god!” she cried.

  “That’s it. Take me, all of me. Who does this pussy belong to?” Thrust, thrust, thrust—pounding hard thrusts that had her eyes rolling back in her head.

  The slap of flesh, the squish of her cream echoed in the room while her breasts jiggled as he pumped inside her. When she didn’t respond right away, he stopped, with merely the head in her channel. He snarled, “Who does this pussy belong to?”

  “You, Sir!” she wailed.

  He slammed home with three rapid strokes that hit the lip of her womb.

  “Who?” He stilled again.

  “Only you, Sir.” She howled.

  Emmett hammered inside her. Grace had had sexual encounters before him, but never like this. Never this carnal, almost near brutality—it wasn’t just sex but a primal mating. Emmett was fucking her blind, imprinting his cock in her channel so that even if she was with another man down the road, it wouldn’t matter because no other man would ever satisfy her, not like this. This wanton fornication that eradicated all who had come before into ash.

  “Look at me,” he demanded in a low rumble.

  Grace lifted her heavy lids, mewls spilling unimpeded out of her mouth. The bed frame shook from the violence of their mating. And her climax was there, building to a shimmering peak. Emmett pinched her clit and slammed home.

  “Emmett,” she keened as her body went supernova.

  She came harder than ever before. Her hips thrashed and bucked. Her back arched as sonic waves of ecstasy flooded every molecule. It shattered her.

  Emmett strained as he thrust, pouring himself inside her, his head tossed back in sheer ecstasy as he climaxed with her. He rocked inside her, drawing out the ecstasy until the final tremor squeezed out the last ounce of pleasure.

  Grace lay there, thighs spread, and languid. It had never been like that before. Last night, it had been good between them, but it had been fast, and over before they really began. But this, with the bondage and the spanking, was without a doubt the hottest sex of her life. And the thing was, she wanted to do it again.

  At least, when she could actually move a muscle, she wanted to do it again.

  Emmett bent down and rested his forehead against hers, his breathing ragged. “I want exclusivity, doc. No more dates with Colt, or anyone else. While I’m in your bed and you’re in mine, we don’t fuck anyone else. Agreed?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she whispered, and knew nothing would be the same ever again.

  “Good. Now let’s get you out of those restraints before I fall over.”

  “Did you hurt yourself? Do I need to look at your shoulder?”

  “I’m fine. I just tend to get tired a lot faster since the injury happened. Nothing for you to worry about.” He kissed her quickly, then undid her left wrist before he rose and withdrew from her body.

  With one hand free, she turned and released the other wrist so he didn’t have to struggle with it. Then she rose to her knees and held out her hand. “Come to bed.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  It took them a moment to get situated, with Emmett on his back, taking up the bulk of the bed. And she draped herself against his right side, his arm around her waist, her head pillowed on his chest. “You sure your ribs don’t hurt?”

  “They’re fine. Although, considering the size of this bed, one roll and we’ll end up on the floor.”

  “I know it’s small. It was the bed I used when I was a teenager.”

  “Is that right?” He looked at her. “Did you ever sneak anyone in here at night when you were a teen?”

  “No. Never.”

  “You mean to tell me we just christened this bed?”

  “Yeah, I suppose we did,” she replied with a small grin teasing the corners of her mouth.

  “Good. I like the sound of that. But tomorrow, you’re coming to my place. Much bigger bed, and all my toys are there.” He pressed his lips against her brow.

  She yawned and snuggled against him, more complete and blissful than she had ever felt. As she drifted into sleep, she couldn’t help but wonder why she had fought so hard against being with Emmett, when conceding and surrendering to the heat had turned into the best decision she had ever made.

  12

  Emmett cracked an eye open. His shoulder throbbed like a bad tooth. It took him a minute to remember where he was because he hadn’t expected to stay the night. Nor had he expected his little doctor to be such a magnificent surprise. There was no doubt in his mind the woman was submissive.

  It was a rare and beautiful sight to behold: a woman submitting herself body and soul for the first time, experiencing the wonder of submission as she reveled in the pleasure.

  Now he was wondering where the little minx had vanished to. The queen sized bed was laughable for a man his size. He wondered why she was sleeping in here and not in the master bedroom.

  Emmett rose, unconcerned with his nudity, and went in search of his submissive. She was his, make no mistake. For
a man who had never considered shackling himself in a relationship, who preferred his freedom—to know that he was well and truly sunk on the doctor and wanted to claim her in every way imaginable, was jarring.

  But as much as he might wish to deny it, every part of his being, from the second he first touched her, roared: mine.

  It made him want to pummel Colt for even suggesting a bet or that he had the right to touch her. That was something he needed to correct, and fast. The bet was over, as far as he was concerned. He wasn’t even concerned with a prize, because he had his prize. He had Grace.

  And he would have her again and again. Nightly, if he had his way.

  He found her in the kitchen, surrounded by stacks of paperwork and with a coffee mug at her elbow. Her hair was down, tumbling around her shoulders in soft, golden waves. Her body was covered in a mauve satin robe and she had her back to him.

  Emmett approached quietly, leaned down and rubbed his unshaven face against her neck. “Morning.”

  Her body startled at his touch. “Emmett.”

  “Expecting some other bloke, were you?” He skimmed his lips along the smooth column of her neck and, with his good hand, untied the bow on her robe, pushing the halves apart. His blood pumped in his veins, and his dick twitched at finding her nude beneath. He kneaded her breasts, enjoying the way the ivory globes felt, and the way the pale rose nipples hardened into tight peaks. His mouth watered. Grace had the most perfect, apple sized breasts. He’d not lied when he’d told her he wanted to see her wear clamps. Big crocodile clamps that would turn those rosy points fiery red.

  “No, you just startled me. I’m not used to having company. What are you doing?” she whispered, her voice breathy and aroused.

  He smiled against her skin, ignoring the throbbing ache in his shoulder. “Isn’t it rather obvious?”

  “Emmett, I have to go through my granddad’s paperwork.” She pushed him off and rose. “Let me get you some coffee,” she said, pulling the lapels of her robe shut.

  He grabbed her neck and spun her, yanking her up against him. “Do you really plan to shut me out? After last night?”