Rope Burn: The Boot Knockers Ranch, Book 5 (9 page)

The ranch fee for a week was a bargain in comparison.

His words brought her back to her question. “So when you spanked me,” she said it easier now, “I experienced a weird feeling.”

He learned forward, concern drawing his lips into a straight line. “Tell me.”

“I sort of…left my body. Or at least it felt that way. I didn’t feel connected. It was like floating.”

His eyes gleamed. “And how did you feel? Warm? Safe?”

“Y-yes,” she said breathlessly.

“That’s subspace, love. You achieved that quickly, and I praise you for that. Letting go is hard, and in such a short amount of time?” He shook his head, looking a little dazed.

“Is that unusual?”

Slowly, he nodded. “I’d like to discuss a contract with you.”

She blinked. “Contract? I bypassed all that.”

“This isn’t with the ranch. It’s between us. It sets all my goals for you. You set your boundaries—tell me how far you’re willing or able to go. Of course, I’ll try to push you, but in the end, I’ll respect your wishes.”

She drew a breath. This was getting deeper by the second. First she was floating away under his hand and now she was binding herself to darker stuff?

“I’m nervous.”

“I’ll keep you safe.” He reached across the table and placed a hand over hers. She focused on the dark hairs sprouting around his watchband and her nipples tingled. This was Stowe. She might not know him, but she’d given him more trust in twenty-four hours than men she’d been with for years.

She nodded. “Tell me what I have to do.”

“First finish your breakfast. You’ll need your energy. Then we enter negotiations.”

Stowe flipped on several switches, flooding the stage with light. His world was already set up onstage—padded leather benches, ropes and pulleys, St. Andrew’s cross. Excitement speared him.

He glanced down at Tabbart. She was frozen, her eyes wide as she stared at the things he would potentially use on her. A wooden wall on wheels had various whips, crops and paddles hung on it.

He slid an arm around her and felt her tremor. “It’s okay, love. Let’s take a look, shall we?”

She nodded and he propelled her forward. Seeing her luxurious hair under the spotlights roused memories of her TV set. Today she wore simple cropped jeans and a gray T-shirt. Just about the most inconspicuous clothing imaginable. She fit right in to the ranch.

She was still the star.

With her hand in his grip, he led her to a bench. The leather was glossy with wear from dozens of women bent over it, asses in the air, at his mercy. He could barely remember any of their faces, let alone their names. All he wanted was to see Tabbart there, her perfect round globes thrust up to receive his paddle.

His cock swelled.

“This is one of my benches. Would you like to test it out?”

She shook her head so fast he almost laughed. Joy had filled him every minute he’d been around her since their time on the set.

To ease her obvious fear that he’d ask her to submit to his paddle now, he took a seat on the bench and pulled her down on his knees. She sat stiffly for a moment before relaxing against his chest.

“I hold a weekly event here for all the Boot Knockers and their ladies. A demonstration of the lifestyle.”

“Okaaay.”

“I know you won’t want to be put onstage this week, but it’s part of my job. I invite you to sit backstage and watch.”

She looked at him. “Will you be with other women?”

“I’ll be demonstrating on them, yes.”

“Like…” She waved a hand at the wall of whips and paddles.

“Yes, if they’re willing to explore.”

“What will you get out of it?”

He eased a finger under her jaw and made her meet his gaze fully. “Are you asking if I get pleasure from it?”

“Yes.” A shiver was caught in her voice but her body didn’t express it.

He considered her question. Having the power of the whip always thrilled him deeply, but he rarely got physical release after the demonstration. He liked the buildup too much.

“If I get worked up from reddening the asses of other ladies, I promise to come to you for ease.”

Her eyes widened, sparking.

“Would you take care of me, Tabbart? Get on your knees and suck my cock?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good girl.” He lightly tapped her round ass in reminder of who was boss. “Now let’s talk about this contract. I’m going to tell you what I expect, and you tell me if you can meet my demands. I need to know your hard limits.”

She squirmed on his knees, sending his cock into a state that was unusual for him. It typically took a lot to get him this hard, this fast. He’d spent a lifetime gaining control.

“You let me spank you as I see fit. Even in punishment.”

“P…punishment?” Her breaths came faster.

“Yes, if you disobey me. Say I ask you not to remove the nipple clamps and you do.”

Her face mottled and her throat worked in a way that gave him no doubt she’d done just that. He also knew it would hurt like hell to close those sharp teeth around her blood-filled nipple again. While he should spank her for it now, she was a newbie in this game. He’d teach her in time.

We don’t have time.

The thought deflated him somewhat but he went on. “If I find out that you’ve defied me, I will spank your ass until you remember who is your Master.”

“Okay.”

“When I spank you, I’ll leave marks on you.”

“I know. I saw them this morning.”

“And did you like what you saw?”

She shivered, and he’d bet his best pearl-handled whip that she was soaking wet with the reminder. The urge to bury his tongue in her hot, delicious pussy spiked his need tenfold.

“It was odd to see your handprint on me.”

“But you’re not bruised?”

“No. Will you bruise me?”

“Not typically. You might want it, though.”

Her lips fell open in that endearing way that made him want to kiss her and fuck her senseless and protect her at the same time. “Do some women want bruises?”

“Yes. But I’ll always warm you up first, bringing the blood into the skin as a cushion before I spank harder.”

She nodded, that pretty flush coating her high cheekbones.

“Is that your hard limit? You don’t want me to bruise you?” he asked, gliding his hand around the curve of the very cheek he longed to brand as his own.

“I didn’t say that.”

Surprise made him swallow a gasp. “Then you do?”

“I don’t know.” Her quiet tone told him she was feeling very uncertain. He held her and kissed her temple.

“I want to push your boundaries by using these tools. Paddle on your ass. Use the crop on your nipples and maybe your pussy.”

She sucked in a sharp breath.

“And the whip. At least once. Do you agree to my terms?”

“I’m afraid of pain.”

“Were you in pain when I spanked you in the shower?”

He knew the answer but she seemed to search her mind for it. Finally she shook her head. “No. I had that floaty feeling.”

“It’s the same with the tools. But I’ll always stop with
daisies
.”

She released a quick breath, and a small smile touched her full lips. He hoped she was thinking of the flower he’d made a detour into the field for before fetching the breakfast tray.

One of his fellow Boot Knockers had called out to him, asking if he was really so into a woman he’d go traipsing through the pasture full of cow patties for a wildflower, but Stowe had waved him off.

“Do you agree to my terms?” he asked.

She nodded, hair tumbling forward to kiss her cheek. With the dark locks down today, she looked more like the food TV star. But he liked that she was trusting him to keep her identity safe.

“Say the words, Tabbart.”

“I agree.”

“Good girl. Now I’m going to praise you.”

“How?” Her voice quavered.

“Pull down your jeans and panties. I’m going to lick your pussy until you scream my name.”

Her shocked expression quickly transformed to one of desire. Her eyelids drooped and she clenched her hands in her lap.

“Here? Onstage?”

“I’ll pull the curtains. No one will see.”

She stared at the heavy red-velvet panels before giving another nod. Then slowly she tipped onto her feet. He walked to the side and pulled a rope, sending the draperies swishing shut. Then he led her to a ring of light and she lowered her jeans. When they were around her upper thighs, he stopped her.

“You look so fucking sexy with your legs trapped. You’ll want to spread your thighs and won’t be able to.” The thought gave him a leap of pleasure so huge he felt like a schoolboy again.

He removed his hat and settled it on her head. Then he sank to his knees, cupped her ass in his hands and drew her wet, fragrant pussy to his lips.

At the first warm lash of his tongue, Tabbart dug her fingers into his shoulders. He didn’t reprimand her, so she sank her blunt nails into his muscles.

God, how fast he was able to steal her mind. She rocked into his mouth. He groaned and lapped at her seam. He couldn’t get deep enough for her liking, and her insides quivered for the feel of his tongue buried deep.

A harsh noise left her. He answered with a flick over her swollen clit. Juices squeezed from her. She wanted his tongue there, smearing her wetness over her needy folds.

She moaned again. Unable to help herself, she looked down at him. Shock was a flame in her core, sputtering to life.

He was staring at her face. In her mind, she heard his voice:
Don’t look away.

Her knees quaked as he teased the hood of her clit with his tongue. Pushing it back with small, firm strokes. When he sucked her hard core, she clung to him to keep from falling over.

Slow pulsations began. Rhythmic contractions that would be tripled and quickly escalate if he’d just let her push down her clothing.

She caught the fabric and started to ease it down. He trapped her hands under his. She swore she glimpsed a warning light in his eyes.

Damn, that sent her pulse racing faster. Hoarse noises erupted from her. She needed more of his scorching mouth—all over her pussy. Top to bottom and bottom to top.

He wouldn’t allow it.

This was his game and she must play by his rules.

When he stopped sucking her clit and teased her outer lips with his tongue, she cried out in frustration.

He sat back on his heels, tongue gone from her. Intimate kisses withdrawn. He stared at her.

Her breaths came heavily. This time she
knew
she’d done something wrong.

Her pussy clenched and released, aching for more. But he gained his feet. While he pulled her clothing back into place, he kissed her.

As he thrust his tongue between her lips, she tasted herself. A guttural noise broke from her.

Unable to understand what had just happened, she pulled away. “Are we going back to the bungalow?”

“No.”

She gaped up at him, feeling like a virgin gagging for her first time. “But…”

“That’s your first taste of orgasm denial, love. Savor the burn, the fire building.” His tone soothed and lulled even as it hurt. She throbbed for more.

“Denial. But why?” That couldn’t be her voice.

“For disobeying me, Tabbart. I know you removed the nipple clamps. C’mon. I’m going to show you around the ranch a little more.”

Stowe opened the bungalow door and nudged Tabbart toward it. “Go in and get your sunglasses and hat, love. I’ll be back for you.”

“Where are you going?” Her eyes were wide and she’d bitten her lower lip so much after he’d denied her orgasm that the flesh was plump and red. He hummed a growl.

“I’m getting a picnic.”

“But we just ate breakfast. And after yesterday’s picnic, I know this won’t be just sandwiches and apples. I’m going to need a treadmill to work off all this food.”

He hooked a hand around her nape, leaned in and stamped her mouth with his. “Don’t worry. We’ll walk and ride. And there are plenty of other ways to work it off.” He dropped a slow, dirty wink.

With that, he left the bungalow and strode across the yard to the grub house. He passed a couple strolling slowly. Stowe raised a hand in greeting, glad he hadn’t risked bringing Tabbart on his errand.

Dressed as she was, there was little chance of her being associated with Tabbart Tracy the celebrity chef, but he wasn’t going to test anybody.

The grub house was hopping with activity. Boot Knockers were catering to their ladies, the long tables filled with chatter. One cowboy had his hand under the table in a conspicuous way, and his blonde’s eyes were hooded and her lips parted.

He was a private person, preferring to play out of sight. But perversely, knowing he couldn’t finger Tabbart’s pussy under the table in the dining hall made his fingers twitch to do just that.

“Hey, Stowe,” the other Dom at the Boot Knockers Ranch called. Quay motioned him to the table where he had his lady of the week seated.

“Quay. Lovely madam.” Stowe gave a slight bow to the woman seated next to his friend. She blushed a deep red. Ordinarily he’d like to toy with her, his whip whizzing through the air in tandem with Quay’s, driving a woman to the pinnacle.

But not this week. He was content with Tabbart. And no way did he want Quay near her.

“Where’s your lady? I heard she’s top secret.”

The blushing woman perked up. “Secret? I thought there weren’t secrets at the Boot Knockers Ranch.”

“There’re plenty, sweet thing. But what we’ll be doing will be on display. This little beauty will be onstage at the demonstration, Stowe.” Quay slid his arm around her shoulders and the woman tittered.

“Very good.”

“What about your lady?” Quay asked.

“Uh, no. If you’ll excuse me…” He jerked his chin in farewell and hurried into the kitchen.

Cook was there with two sous chefs, already working away on dinner. She looked up and smiled at Stowe. “I suppose you’ve come for another basket.”

“Yes. Something different this time.”

She quirked a brow. “Well, of course. I’d never send two picnic baskets that are the same. Come inside while I get it together.” She set aside her knife and dried her hands on a towel.