Bite the Bullet (8 page)

“Very impressive.” Her voice was soft.

He nearly groaned. “I would like to give you pleasure with it.”

“Would you now?” She stroked her finger down the length and back up again. “How very unselfish of you to offer me that. What else would you do to give me pleasure?”

“Whatever my Mistress desires,” he gritted out.

Her finger had moved between his thighs to drift like a whisper over his balls.

“Is that so? Whatever I desire?” Her gaze roamed lazily over his body. “Are you saying you’re willing to accept me as your Mistress? As much as you’ve resisted any contact until tonight, I wonder if you can really do that.”

He wasn’t sure he could, either. It had been so long since he’d actually ceded emotional control to someone that he wondered if he’d lost the ability. And if he was able to capitulate to her completely, what would he be like afterwards? How would she look at him?

“I’m waiting.” Although she wasn’t smiling, her tone held a note of amusement. “I think you always hold some part of yourself back. That won’t work with me. I want it all.”

Clint ground his teeth together. “I’ll give you all I can. For tonight.”

He had to be specific about that. He desperately needed to do something to get her out of his system so he could move back into his comfort zone. The problem was, he sensed she had an equal desire to push him out of it.

“Hmmm.” She wiggled her finger down his chest again and over the flat plane of his stomach, leaving a trail of fire every place she touched. When she reached his cock again, it was all he could do not to thrust himself toward her, silently begging for her touch. Her gaze locked with his, she closed her fingers around him and stroked up and down. Once. His balls tightened, and he laced his fingers behind his head so tightly he was afraid they might break.

“Here’s what I want you to do,” Montana went on in a conversational tone. “I want to see you stroke this very fine looking cock. Slowly. Like this.” Another slow pass up and down. “Then, when I tell you, faster. But Clint. Do. Not.

Come.”

Her eyes burned into his, as if searching for the answer to what he refused to reveal.

“I want to come in your pussy.”

Shit, that’s no lie.

“I think you already said that.” Her fingertip made another pass over the head of his throbbing erection. “But you have to earn that right.”

She bent her head, licked the areolas around the clamps fastened to his nipples, tugged lightly on the chain between them. Then she leaned her hips against the table again.

He knew she was waiting to see if he’d obeyed her command. Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he set up a slow but steady rhythm, just as she’d ordered him to. Up.

Down. Up. Down. How many times had he done this alone, visualizing her face and body? His balls tightened, and his cock swelled in his hand. The familiar tingle grabbed him at the base of his spine. He was too close, the climax eager to surge through him and break over his body.

He slowed the pace of his hand, breathing slowly, willing himself not to explode. Montana watched him closely. He knew that an experienced Domme like her could tell when he was reaching the crisis point.

“Stop. Now.”

He swallowed a sigh that was part relief and part agony.

Any more strokes and he wouldn’t have been able to contain himself. But the orgasm hovered painfully just beyond his reach. And oh, god, he wanted it. Badly.

Montana reached out to his chest and very carefully removed the nipple clamps. Pain sizzled through his nipples at the sudden flow of blood, but in a moment another sensation rode through him as she bent slightly again and took one into her mouth. Her tongue slipped over it, brushing the pebbled surface while her lips tugged. Easing. Soothing.

Clint tightened his grip on his cock, willing his orgasm not to burst forth. It was suddenly very important that, at least in this instance, he obey everything she commanded of it. But holy shit. Her mouth on his nipples was like liquid fire, the flames reaching straight through his boy to his groin.

He knew at once why she was such a successful Domme.

Her focus was always on her sub. Always on wresting control from him and making the process a pleasure for him. On silently sharing what she was feeling. Making him want to please her beyond anything else.

Dangerous!

Oh, yes. Dangerous indeed. All his carefully constructed shields could crack and tumble in an instant if he wasn’t very, very careful.

Montana flicked a fingernail gently over each wet, aroused nipples. His hand still clutched his erection, as if by tightening his grip he could hold back the flood of semen threatening to burst forth. The need to come was so intense it was an actual pain.

“What would you like, Clint? I can tell that you want to ask me something, but your stubbornness prevents you.”

Yes. He wanted to beg her to let him come. But his own deeply instilled need for control prevented him.

Grinding his teeth until he thought his jaw would crack, he said, “Whatever my Mistress desires is what I wish.”

The smile that lit her face aroused him clear to his toes.

Despite his almost obsessive need to hold back, he knew in a blinding, frightening instant that he would do anything for this woman. And that totally scared the shit out of him.

“Oh, I like the sound of that. And so you’ll get a reward, because what I’d like is for you to come. Right here. Right now.” She raised her voice slightly. “Now, Clint.”

It took only a few strokes before the orgasm that had hovered like a greedy shadow raced through his body, his muscles tensed, and semen spurted from the slit at the head of his shaft. He was nearly shocked out of it midstream when, before the thick fluid could even drip to his fingers, she bent again and closed her mouth over him, taking the head of his cock into her wet heat.

As spasms jerked his body, he gushed into her mouth again and again. Her warm tongue lapped at his cum, sucking it deep, a low moan of pleasure vibrating from her throat down the length of his shaft to his balls. He jerked again and again, clutching at his shaft so hard he was afraid he’d break it off.

Montana wrapped her slim fingers around his, steadying him as she swallowed every bit of the viscous fluid and sucked him dry. Her mouth never left his cock until he’d pumped the last of his release into her and his head dropped back against the chair. Then she pried his hand loose, lowered her mouth once to the root of his erection and dragged it slowly back up to the head.

Finally she leaned against the table again, watching him with her all-knowing eyes, slowly licking her lips with a slow glide of her tongue. A sensuous gesture that almost—

almost
—made him hard again.

He released his spent erection and rested his hands, palms up, on his thighs, in the typical submissive gesture of supplication. He was rewarded with a flash of approval in Montana’s deep hazel eyes.

“Keep your hands just like that. And leave your jeans the way they are.” A smile flirted at the edges of her mouth, a mouth now slightly swollen from gripping his cock. “I must say, you don’t disappoint.”

“I’m glad I please my Mistress. But she only
gave
pleasure here. She deserves to be satisfied, too.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “And what makes you think I’m not?”

His gaze lasered directly at the apex of her thighs. “I’ll bet if I touched you right now, you’d be wetter than this coffee.

And if you let me slide my fingers inside you, your cunt would grab onto them like a suction cup.”

He’d give her credit. She did her best to suppress any reaction. But the muscles in her body tightened fractionally and the color of her eyes darkened to a smoky gray.

“Very insolent for a sub,” she drawled.

“A sub who’s eager to please his mistress by fucking her senseless.”

“Pretty arrogant for a bottom, aren’t you.”

He grinned. “It’s one of my most charming qualities.”

It occurred to him they were having this conversation while his jeans and boxers were still around his knees and his cock and balls still lay exposed to her gaze. He waited for it to bother him, but for some reason, it felt completely natural. As if the two of them had been together for a long time.

Watch it, Chavez. Don’t go looking for trouble. You know
what can happen.

“I’ll make you a deal,” she said, her gaze dropping to his groin then returning to his face.

“Yeah? What are you offering?”

“Let’s give ourselves one full night to play. You agree to perform as my sub for one night. Allow me to use your body as I wish. If I’m satisfied, at the end of the evening, I will give you the opportunity to slide that magnificent cock inside my pussy and, as you so delicately put it, fuck me senseless.”

Jesus! One full night with her? Considering the mess his emotions were in, he wasn’t sure he’d survive. But there was no way he could refuse. Clint had seen Montana in action, and the possibilities of what that hour could bring made his cock thicken again and fire burn him from the inside out. He had to stop himself from licking his lips. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

She tilted her head. “Have your other Mistresses been into pain? Have they used special instruments on you? Does it turn you on? Arouse you?”

Past images swirled in his mind, and he felt the heat wash over his face. Pain was an aphrodisiac for him. When he spoke, his tongue felt almost too thick. “Proper pain can give you a ride on the sweet edge of pleasure. And heighten that pleasure. But you know that, don’t you.”

She blinked then nodded. “Ah, that’s right. You read my file from the club I belonged to.”

He just continued to stare at her, remembering the scenes he’d witnessed through the peephole.

Montana frowned. “What? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Yes. I think you’re magnificent with the fiberglass cane. I
want it to be
my
ass you fuck with the well-lubed dildo. My
cock you enclose in that harness. My hands manacled while
you make my blood sing and my cock throb.

And if I’m smart I’ll call this off right now because I could
get in so deep with you there’s no way out. And I don’t trust
women anymore.

Ever.

But he said none of that. What he did say was, “You’re reputation precedes you. And when Drake filled out the cards for Rawhide after your first two sessions, he had very flattering things to say about you.” He grinned. “Drake is a very experienced and discriminating sub. He doesn’t give compliments easily.”

“Good to know.” She nodded at his thighs. “You may pull up your jeans now. I don’t mean to be ungracious, but we start very early here at the ranch so I need to get some sleep. And I want to check on that cow before I get into bed.”

Clint knew when he was being dismissed. He rose from the chair and carried his mug to the sink. When he turned to face her, he bowed his head in proper sub attitude. “Thank you, Mistress, for allowing me to please you.”

“And I am pleased.”

“May I ask when we will have our time together?”

“It will have to be Sunday, of course. I don’t think either of us wants to do this at Rawhide.”

You can bet your ass on that.

“I agree.”

“Very well, then. Come here next Sunday at seven. For our one evening together. We’ll…play and then enjoy dinner together.”

He wanted badly to pull her into his arms, but that would be wrong for both of them. He simply nodded. “Sunday at seven.”

“And Clint.”

“Yes?” His eyes focused on hers like twin lasers.

“Leave the underwear and socks at home.” He watched the pulse at her throat beat harder against the delicate skin.

He raised an eyebrow. “Socks?”

She nodded. “I think a man’s ankles are sexy.”

When he got to his truck, Clint leaned against the door, pausing to catch his breath. Montana Steele had the uncanny ability to pull every response she wanted from his body, sometimes just with words. But it was his whirlpool of emotions suddenly swirling inside him that made his breathing uneven.

What on earth had he gotten himself into?

Montana dipped her bandana in the icy water from the hose, squeezed out the excess and wiped her face and neck with it. It was barely ten o’clock in the morning, but already the sun was a fireball in the sky, frying everything in sight.

The bull calf had been born at six without any complications and was happily nursing. She’d sent Faron home to his house about a mile from hers to get some much-needed sleep. The ranch hand who’d stayed up with him was sacked out in the bunkhouse. In the corral, Jimmy was again working with the new cutting horse. And in the nearest pasture, four of the hands were sweating beneath the sun as they worked to cut the first of the young bulls from the herd to begin their training.

First, they’d get them used to being inside. Then, one by one, they’d take them into the small arena and start them on the mechanical rider. This morning, Jackson Fields and Elgin Navarro, two of the most experienced hands, were working with mature bulls to prepare them for shipment. Although there were rodeos all through the summer, the big leagues didn’t start until late fall. And Montana desperately wanted to contract at least a couple of her bulls on a trial basis to some of the rodeos on the Texas circuit.

She wiped her face again and leaned against the split rail fence of the corral. Why on earth had she made that stupid agreement with Clint Chavez? She was asking for trouble with a capital T. She knew it deep inside her, and she couldn’t seem to help herself.

Last night, when she crawled into bed, she’d lain there between wakefulness and sleep, the image of Clint in her kitchen chair with his cock and balls exposed burned into her brain. And the taste of him, musky and salty, still lingered on her lips. She could see it all crashing down around her if she didn’t keep a tight rein on her emotions, but it was almost as if he’d cast a spell over her. She was falling for him, and she didn’t seem to be able to do anything about it.

You’d think I’d learned. Once around the barn should be
enough to teach me a lesson.