The Private Stable [Iron Spur Ranch 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (6 page)

Wyatt slid the blouse off her arms. She immediately covered up, hugging herself in a poor attempt to hide her exposed flesh. If she was going to be so bold as to go along with their seduction, the lights needed to be off. She couldn’t stand the thought of them looking at her rolls and many imperfections. Rachel was tired of feeling shame. For once it would be nice to wake up a size four, not a worry in the world. But it wasn’t going to happen.

“What’re you doing?” asked Ethan, wrapping his big hand around her wrist. He pulled her arm down. “It’s not nice to tease a man.”

“Have you ever seen tits so fucking edible?” asked Wyatt.

“Never in my life.” Ethan ran his hands down her arms, pinning them at her sides. He delved into her cleavage, rubbing his rough stubble along her sensitive flesh. She was fair from rarely venturing outside, and when she looked down her skin had reddened where his face had traveled.

“
Don’t
,” she whispered. “At least…at least turn off the lights.” Did she just give them consent? She’d traveled all the way out to nowhere for work and was ready to jump into bed with two strangers. It was terrifying and exciting all rolled up into one.

She wanted this to happen as much as they did but didn’t want to be the instigator. Rachel needed a confident leader to show her what she’d been missing all her adult life.

They both froze as if she’d suddenly spoken a foreign language. “Turn them
off
? Why would we do that?” asked Ethan. “I want to enjoy every inch of you.”

“A few inches too many,” she mumbled. Why did they insist on pretending to be attracted to her? They were already going to hit home base regardless.

Wyatt chuckled, a rich sound that settled heavily in her cunt. “I think she’s shy. We’ll have to spank that out of her.”

“Spank?”

“You said you know what goes on at the Iron Spur, sweet thing.” Ethan reached low and began to unbutton her pants. She tried to suck in her stomach to disguise her extra pounds, but it was hard when her waistband already cut into her skin. “One thing you’ll learn about me and Wyatt is never to hide yourself. Good Lord, Rachel, a woman like you should be proud of her body.”

Empty words, and she refused to believe them.

Wyatt narrowed his eyes as if staring into her soul. “She needs convincing.” He took her hand and brought it to the front of his Wranglers, forcing her to cup his cock through the denim. He was rock hard, the outline of his erection threatening to break free. She gasped, not used to such sexual forwardness. “Feel that? You make me hard as iron, baby girl. All I can think about is stripping you naked and fucking you raw.”

Her mouth dropped open, shock replacing her apprehension.

“No more whining, now. Behave and we’ll show you exactly what you came here for,” said Ethan. “By the time we’re through, you won’t even care about the private stable.” They lowered her to the bed, her feet still on the floor as she rested her head on the mattress. She wasn’t sure what they kept talking about. She was at the ranch for a job, not sex. Did women usually flock here for a chance to bed one of the delectable cowboys? She didn’t want to be seen in such a light. What she wanted was love, a sense of belonging, so much more than one night of passion. But she expected this was the best she’d get, and her libido wouldn’t let her refuse their advances.

Wyatt tugged off her pants, leaving her in just her undergarments. She reached to the sides, hoping to cover herself with a sheet or pillow.

“Now what’re you doing?” Wyatt stared down at her, all male dominance. A thrill ran through her body, a new kind of fear, one she wanted to explore. She was outside of her body, floating, experiencing everything as a voyeur.

“Covering myself?”

Both men glanced at each other, appearing dumbfounded. Had they never met an insecure woman before? Perhaps they were only used to equally perfect cowgirls.

“Why?” asked Ethan.

He was ruining her sexual high, forcing her to face her insecurities when she’d rather ignore them. “Because I’m ashamed of my body,” she blurted, upset she had to spell it out for them. “Or haven’t you noticed I’m not exactly bikini material?” She usually wasn’t so forward or blatant, but it wasn’t right for them to pretend to be clueless. It only made her feel worse about herself.

“She’s not even green broke,” said Wyatt, whatever that meant. “Rachel, I don’t know what women in the city strive for these days, but I promise you that simple men like us most certainly appreciate a woman with plenty of curves.”

“You’re perfect. Soft and lush. Everything a woman should be.” Ethan propped a knee on the mattress and leaned over her prone body. He peeled one cup of her bra down, exposing her throbbing nipple. “And I love these tits.” Ethan’s hot, wet mouth suckled her nipple like a starved infant, sending spikes of electricity coursing through her body like wildfire. She’d never felt anything so explosive, so pleasurable in all her life. Her other nipple was beaded so tight, she was ready to beg him to tend it. But as soon as the thought had entered her head, Wyatt descended over her other side and covered her areola with his mouth. His tongue was lively, making her pussy spasm uncontrollably. She watched the two heads covering her chest. It was so kinky, two different men engorging themselves on her breasts at once, one dark, one blond. She was surprised at how much she loved it.

Ethan began to move lower, trailing kisses along her heated skin. She’d never had good muscle tone, and when he reached her midriff, she tensed. Rachel forgot about her newfound pleasure and reached down to cover herself again. It had been a mistake. As soon as she covered her stomach with her arm, the men rose to attention.

“Not even green broke,” repeated Wyatt. “This’ll go on all night. Pass me some pig string.”

Ethan slipped away, only to return with a coil of thin yellow twine. She watched with rapt fascination, wondering what they planned next. When Wyatt lifted both her arms above her head, weaving the string in a precise manner around her wrists, she began to panic, her heart pounding in her ears. She tugged downward, but he’d already secured her to the frame of the bed. What were they going to do to her? Was she in danger? And the damn lights were still on!

“Struggling will only make it worse,” said Wyatt. He returned to his place beside her, lounging on his side. His shoulders were so broad that he blocked the other side of the trailer from her view entirely. “Calm down.”

“What are you doing? Please untie me.” She tugged again.

“You know the game, Rachel. We’ve only just begun. You’ll have to learn not to hide yourself from us.” Ethan slipped her panties clean off her legs.
This is not happening.
She felt tears begin to prick her eyes, her throat tight and tingly. It wasn’t so much the fear building up inside her because she’d dealt with it on a daily basis for so long. It was the humiliation, being bound and not able to cover her nudity.

Ethan attempted to part her legs at the knees. “Forgive me, darlin’. I’m not usually so forward, but when a man’s been sporting blue balls for the better part of the three seasons, he tends to act out of character when presented with such a treasure.” She fought him but failed. He was so powerful, easily spreading her thighs, exposing her moist pussy. She could have fought a little harder, but a big part of her was curious.

“She’s ripe, Wyatt. Soft and pink like a summer peach.”

She hadn’t even shaved her legs in a week. This was a living nightmare that just got worse by the second. Were these men that hard up for sex they’d put up with the likes of her?

“Look, you need to untie me. I’ll scream, you know.”

Wyatt smirked, painting patterns around her nipple with a fingertip. “That’s good. We intend for you to do a lot of screaming tonight.”

Before she could retort, the hot swipe of Ethan’s tongue lapped up her folds. Jason had never gone down on her, and it rarely entered her mind. Now that she had her first brief sample, she wanted more. She stopped complaining and focused on the feel of Ethan’s tongue exploring her cunt. He’d lap her pussy lips and fuck her with his tongue. His lips were magical, too, suckling her clit like a hard candy. It was so dirty, so forbidden, so perfect. She loved that these cowboys held nothing back. Rachel finally realized they didn’t make her feel ugly and fat but somehow…desirable.

“I can tell he really likes you, Rachel.” Wyatt reached into his back pocket and returned with a small silver knife. Her breath hitched as he let it gleam in the lamplight. “I’ve never seen him so anxious for pussy. He’s usually a master at self-denial.” He cut the center of her bra, effectively destroying it. The cups literally exploded to the sides, her huge breasts jiggling after losing their support.

He made no apologies. Wyatt’s skin was hot against her body. He smoothed his hand from her bound wrist, along the inside of her arm, and down her side. All along, Ethan was unfaltering, eating her pussy as if it was his last meal. It was such a raw torment, an addicting new experience she wanted to go on, and on, and on.

As she concentrated on nothing but the heat building in her cunt and Wyatt’s rough hands exploring her body, she realized she was no longer obsessed with her nudity or insecurities. She was just enjoying the moment, savoring all the wonderful new sensations. It was like a dream, something she expected to wake up from at any moment.

When her body began to quiver, she knew something monumental was about to take place. Waves of intense pleasure washed through her body, nearly drowning her. Her toes began to curl as the heat built to unbearable levels. Rachel thrashed her head from side to side, not knowing what to expect or how to handle it. She didn’t want to humiliate herself in front of these experienced men.

“She’s close,” said Wyatt, seeming to know her own body better than she did. “I can’t wait to see her peak.”

After speaking, Ethan responded by impaling a thumb into her pussy, his fingers wedged under her ass, teasing her nether hole. So many cells were roused to life. It was too much to handle, and she finally let go. For the first time.

The orgasm tore through her with the power of a freight train. She arched her back and fought with the string binding her to the bed. Ethan never let up, not offering her a moment of reprieve from the beautiful torture. He continued to latch on to her pussy, sucking her clit as the contractions throbbed deep in her core, startling her to life. Wyatt was beside her the whole time, watching her reactions as if fascinated by her lack of control. And control was the last thing on her mind.

It took her a while before she could emerge from the black void of complete exhaustion. She could have slept for a week. It was Wyatt’s voice that coaxed her back to the present.

“That was your first time, wasn’t it?”

She shook her head, her breathing still too heavy to attempt speech.

“I’m not talking about sex. That was the first time a man gave you an orgasm. Don’t lie.”

This time she nodded.

“Well, around here, that was called an appetizer. I hope you’re ready for more.”

Wyatt was captivated by the timid brunette. He’d watched her come alive, going from insecure and reluctant to wanton and eager. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that she’d been sexually repressed. It pissed him off that such a beauty had been allowed to go unsatisfied for so long. He guessed her to be in her midtwenties, a decade younger, closer to Ethan’s age. But it was her innocence that had initially attracted him to her. She constantly stared at the ground or flinched when he moved too fast. The dominant male he kept locked up inside him wanted to teach her to come out of her shell. And he wanted to own her.

He supposed it was best to ignore such a futile urge. It would likely pass, like the excitement of a new toy to a child. Wyatt had worked hard to move up the ranks at the Iron Spur Ranch, now one of only a handful of foremen in charge of the entire operation. There wasn’t room for love or weakness. Or disappointment.

Damien was the ultimate role model, indulging in the D/s lifestyle but never committing to one woman. He’d recently celebrated his fortieth birthday, so Wyatt didn’t expect his boss to change his ways now. It was time for Wyatt to consider the same ideals, embrace the bachelor-for-life attitude, and not entertain disappointing long-term commitments. He’d learned long ago never to trust anyone but himself.

Night settled over the country, only blackness visible from the few windows in the trailer. If Damien decided to hire Rachel in the morning, it would be awkward having her around each day now that they’d crossed the line. He hadn’t considered the consequences of embracing a one-night stand with a woman who could potentially work side by side with him. Ethan assumed she was at the ranch after hearing about the private stable, but they were both wrong. There was no way Rachel came looking for sexual adventure. She was too green. A rarity. Wyatt wanted to keep her, not willing to share her with the other cowboys who’d come sniffing around tomorrow. But these new territorial urges weren’t helpful, only destructive. He had to keep his wits and remained detached.

When he’d come home from the fields, exhausted and weary, Rachel was like an oasis for his sight. Her big green eyes looked up at him with uncertainty, her waves of rich brown hair framing her sweet face. She had a flawless, pale complexion, reminding him of a porcelain doll, and he wondered if she ever smiled. He’d reacted to his base desires, moving in for the kill after Ethan’s initial advance. The scent of her readiness was like fresh blood to a wolf, and his common sense was shut out entirely.

“I’m tired,” she said. “Please untie me.”

They’d already got her past the first stage, so he didn’t think she needed to be bound any longer. He sliced through the pig string, freeing her. She immediately coiled her body, covering as much of her exposed flesh as possible. It was odd how she could be so receptive one moment and completely standoffish the next. He blamed the haze of lust. Once it settled, reality was often harder to digest—even for him.