Rope Burn: The Boot Knockers Ranch, Book 5 (14 page)

Jealousy.

He spanked the woman two more times, her round ass cheek reddening under his broad palm. Then he switched to the paddle.

Tabbart swallowed a noise but Stowe jerked his head in her direction. One black eye seemed to find her in the darkness. Was he smiling?

He paddled. The woman under his hand shook and wept.

Tabbart had never cried. Was she supposed to? Maybe she was doing everything all wrong and this woman all right.

Damn. She wrapped her arms around her middle and steeled herself to keep watching. She had to see everything.

Stowe moved around the woman, encouraging her to straighten with only a hand on her cheek. Tabbart closed her eyes in case she saw the same tenderness he exhibited with her. This wasn’t in the bargain. She shouldn’t have come.

She had pivoted to leave when Stowe raised his whip.

The light kissed the bulges in his back, shoulder and arm as he brought the whip down on a different woman. Until now, Tabbart hadn’t taken notice of the blonde strapped to the St. Andrew’s cross.

Tabbart’s feet seemed to grow roots and her heart pounded as she watched her cowboy display such power. The sound of the lashes against the woman’s skin penetrated Tabbart’s mind and she almost felt herself drifting.

“Why are you hiding?” The low male voice ripped her back to reality.

She stared at the cowboy in low-slung jeans in front of her. His hat was black like Stowe’s, perched forward on his head. He was shirtless and twin nipple rings gleamed.

“Come play,” he urged with a hand on her arm. He obviously didn’t recognize her—she was just another woman. Faceless among the crowd.

She shook her head.

“You want to feel the whip, don’t you? I can see it on your face.”

If her emotions were so readable, how did she manage to hide anything from the paparazzi? They must know when she had an itch, for God’s sake.

She pulled her arm free and dropped her gaze so he didn’t recognize her. “I can’t go out there.”

“Okay, suit yourself.” He stepped out of the curtains and cheers sounded from the audience.

Stowe’s voice rose as he announced the man as Quay, their other resident Dom and master of the cat-o’-nine-tails.

Tabbart clamped her fingers around a pleat of heavy drapery fabric to stabilize herself. Her legs were shaking. Her insides trembling. Everything in her body was urging her to step out and reveal herself to Stowe, but putting herself in plain view would end her career.

She stayed hidden and watched.

The fine hairs on Stowe’s nape had been erect for the past half hour. He knew Tabbart stood just out of sight, watching what he was doing.

He needed to look at her face, to see how she was affected by the performance. Was she turned on? Upset? He had to find out.

Because his focus was shifted from the women he was supposed to be pleasuring, he wasn’t at his finest. Two of his whip strokes missed the target of round ass. He didn’t change his rhythm, though. He just kept going.

The ladies weren’t conditioned to take the whip for very long, so he laid it down and picked up a coil of rope.

He swore he could hear Tabbart’s heavy breathing. Was she burning for him? He fucking hoped so.

Without thought he tied the woman. When she had arms bound behind her back and her ankles together, he helped her over a spanking stool. He placed a ball gag in her mouth and settled her with a few words. Sure, she was lovely and keyed up, but she wasn’t Tabbart. He needed to see her in this position.

What he was about to do was part of the performance, but something deep inside him was bucking it. Normally he would touch the female now, give enough pleasure to keep her going. But knowing Tabbart was looking on made him hesitate.

The woman’s pink pussy was slick and ready, yet he couldn’t bring himself to touch her.

He caught Quay’s eyes. His friend stopped what he was doing and swaggered across the stage. They exchanged a long look and his friend took over, plunging his fingers into the woman and fucking her deep.

In the front row of the audience, he spotted Elliot. The Boot Knocker had been showing more and more interest in Stowe’s play. They’d been training with whips for weeks.

With the crook of his finger, he beckoned the cowboy onstage. After a murmured, “Take over,” Stowe walked off the stage.

The minute his gaze clashed with Tabbart’s, his cock hardened. At his approach, she pushed aside the curtain. His heart did a mad flip as he spotted what she was wearing. The tight tank top revealed the globe of each breast.

He closed the gap in a blink and ripped her off her feet. She squealed and he slammed his mouth over hers, carrying her blindly as he kissed the hell out of her. She was burning hot and he could think of nothing but sinking into her scorching pussy.

Or ass.

Both.

He found the stairs and managed to navigate them without killing himself and Tabbart. Then he pushed through the exit into the night.

“I couldn’t stay away, Master.” Her voice was a breathless whimper.

“But did you obey? Did you touch your pussy?”

“No, but the balls fell out when I stepped into the bathtub.” The worry in her voice pleased him. His little sub wanted to do her best.

“We’ll work up to holding them for a longer time.” Time was one thing both of them knew she didn’t have. “I hope you’re not worried about beauty sleep, because I’m going to keep you up all night. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be glowing.”

A beat of silence, then, “Master, I need the whip.”

He stopped abruptly, drowning in visions of what was to come. Of what he would do to her.

But he was more worried about what she was doing to him. The way she looked at him made him feel reborn. Reinvented.

Tabbart tested her bonds. Her arms were strapped to the bed frame at the wrists, and the frame jiggled a little.

“Not too tight? Can you still feel your hands?” Stowe’s words were the icing on the cake of this moment.

She nodded. “I’m good.”

“I’m going to leave your legs free because I want you to be able to adjust your pose your first time.”

Anticipation was a spark in her belly. He paced along the side the bed like a lion tamer. He leaned near, his hot breath against her earlobe. “Safe word?”

“Daisies.”

“Good. Now we’re ready to begin.” She turned to meet his gaze. From beneath her lashes, he appeared totally calm and in control. But small creases of worry bracketed his hard mouth.

When he moved behind her, goose bumps rippled down her spine.

“Stay on your knees but inch backward a bit.”

She obeyed.

“Now arch your back.”

She did.

“More,” he ground out.

Her pussy throbbed and she bent her spine a little more. Stowe growled, and she flicked a look over her shoulder at him.

“So fucking perfect, love. Don’t move. Face forward again. I just need to look at you a bit longer.”

Juices leaked down her inner thighs. Knowing he was just standing there appreciating her raised the temps higher. Perspiration broke out on her forehead.

“Don’t move. Hold your pose,” he ordered.

She shifted slightly back into position. When he trailed a hand down her naked spine, it was impossible not to twist into his touch. He curled his hand around her ass cheek. She waited for him to pinch or grip her hard, but his touch was so tender.

She swallowed.

“I’ll take care of this beautiful ass. Are you ready?”

Nodding was a reflex. She wanted this more than anything.

His touch left her and she strained her senses. She wanted to see what he was doing. But this was his game. He was the Master.

She gasped. The lash of the whip shocked her ears as she felt the first sting kiss her backside. Like the spanking, the first few strokes were light. Then he increased the pressure. And pretty soon she was arching to meet his blows.

Right cheek, left. The whip end licked upward, almost caressing. She closed her eyes and lost herself to the rhythm of his touch.

“So fucking perfect, love. You’re doing beautifully. My marks on your backside…” He broke off, but she heard the lust in his voice and snapped her eyes open.

“I want to suck your cock,” she said.

The whip snapped but fell short of touching her. He circled the bed and quickly untied her hands with jerky movements. “Get on your hands and knees.”

She flexed her hands and sank them into the plush mattress. He stood at the bedside, holding her gaze as he unbuckled his belt and leather pants and kicked them off. When his long cock bobbed before her lips, she moaned.

“Now take my cock into your throat in one long glide.”

She leaned forward and parted her lips. His masculine scents ignited a hunger in her. She didn’t even try to bite off the groan as she sucked him deep into her mouth. He brought a hand down sharply on her ass.

Crying out around his length, she looked up at his face with pleading eyes.

Pleading for what?

For more.

A drop of precome hit her tongue and she issued a long, liberating sound. His fingers were soft in her hair. “That’s it, love. Let me hear how much you love sucking my cock.”

She did. She’d never expected to be this woman, but she dreaded the thought of ever going back. He spanked her. She sucked and made noise. He spanked harder.

It was a give and take unlike any other. When she hollowed her cheeks and tipped her head to take him all the way to the base of his shaft, his palm cracked off her ass.

She cried out.

He rocked his hips, cock straining into the back of her throat. His spank was hard and fast—too much.

Unbearable.

She felt a hot tear splash onto her cheek.

No, this wasn’t right. She hadn’t cried before because she’d always felt riveted in the moment—in Stowe. But he was hurting the place he’d already whipped and the pain was greater than the pleasure.

Another tear trickled from her eye.

“Yellow,” she squeaked out.

He went dead still. Her heart beat heavily.

“Hell, Tabbart. Love.” In a flurry he sat on the bed, pulling her across his lap. When he cupped the back of her head, keeping her cheek against his warm chest, she started to breathe better.

“Let’s talk about what just happened,” he said.

She shook her head. She wasn’t ready because she didn’t totally understand it herself. She’d needed to stop and he’d seen that, but she felt as if she’d failed. More tears fell.

“Tabbart, look at me.” Concern laced his tone.

When she met his gaze, her tears came in earnest. “I let you down, and I’m so sorry. It h-hurt after the whipping and I couldn’t go on.”

His eyes darkened and he crushed her to him gently. “Shhh. Love, it’s not your fault. This is how we learn how to deal with each other. You set your boundary. I won’t cross it again.”

A shudder ran through her, and he pulled her closer. She felt as if she were sinking into his skin, unsure of where she began and he ended. He caught one of her tears on his big thumb. “I’m sorry I took you that close, love.” The remorse in his tone ripped at her heartstrings.

“It’s okay, Stowe. I’m all right.”

He looked at her for several long heartbeats. The worry she saw in his eyes made her ache.

As sobs rose up, she felt as if they came from a deep pool she hadn’t known she possessed. Maybe she’d been storing all the loneliness there and Stowe had tapped it.

He made soothing noises and stroked her hair and back. He tipped her face up and caught her tears with his lips. He kissed along her cheek to the corner of her mouth.

With a gasp of a woman sucking air after a long time underwater, she turned in to his kiss. He plunged his tongue deep and rolled with her, settling her beneath him in a way that made her feel protected and cherished.

She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back with everything in her being. What had just happened? It felt as if he’d unlocked a door in her and shoved it wide. Now she was melting, falling through it.

He reached between them, and vaguely she understood he was rolling on a condom. When he looked into her eyes and joined their bodies, she gave up all control.

Stowe churned his hips in a slow beat, trying to get deeper. Tabbart wrapped her legs around his hips and moved with him as long moans of ecstasy left her. Did she feel how fucking close they were to each other at this moment? He’d never known such nearness to a lover.

Her expressive eyes were wide and fixed on his but revealed a softness he couldn’t get enough of. He wanted more.

He twitched his hips, sinking his cock a fraction deeper. She cried out.

Her nearing her boundary wasn’t the end—it was only the beginning. He’d seen a barrier crumble in her and mutual respect flooded in. As well as an unspeakable tenderness he felt for her.

He threaded his fingers under her hair and kissed her. Passion raged, then turned sweeter, almost heartbreaking.

He was too deep in this woman, for sure. When she left it was going to tear him up. He was smart enough to know this wasn’t a normal woman who came and went from his life.

“Master,” she cried out, body bowing in his arms.

He stared into her eyes and threw himself into bringing her to the pinnacle of bliss. “Shatter for me, love. Come on my cock.”

“Stowe,” she whimpered.

“Don’t hold back with me. I want it all. Give it all.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, stiffened and came with a long, wild cry he felt to the marrow of his bones. For a tooth-grinding moment he thought he’d lose it too, but he held the reins of control.

When the final pulsations ebbed away, he cradled her against his chest and traced circles on her damp spine. She raised her head and met his gaze.

A shock tore through him like thousands of volts running through an electric fence. He gripped her hips and flipped with her. Once she was seated atop him, long hair trailing over her breasts, a growl burst from him.

“Ride me, love. Come for me again.”

“I need you.” She began to move. Slow grinds down on his cock that threatened his sanity. Quick pulses that made him crazy. And when she rode him with wild abandon, he gave himself up to the moment.