Cowboy Casanova (17 page)

Ainsley blushed.

“Every once in a while I’ll meet a woman outside the club and ask her out. But if I can’t be myself, why waste my time?”

“What’s the longest you’ve dated a woman?”

“Probably…a month.”

“Is that why you insisted on a month with me?”

Astute woman. It’d just seemed like an arbitrary amount of time. “No. As a newbie sub, you oughta know in thirty days whether you’re cut out to be submissive, even just behind bedroom doors.” He gave her a buttery, salty, smacking kiss. “Quit distracting me from Vanna, woman.”

Ben solved the next puzzle. They bantered back and forth. But when the game show ended, he sensed Ainsley’s anxiety. He set aside her empty popcorn bowl. “Sit on my lap facing me.”

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll make your crotch go numb? I’m not exactly a petite woman, Ben.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Ainsley threw her leg over his and straddled his thighs. “I guess Bennett the beastly Dom is back.”

He curled his hand around her neck and took her mouth in a heated kiss. No easing into it, just sucking in her surprise like a drug. Holding her in place while he controlled the kiss. Keeping it red-hot until she could scarcely sit still. He backed off the intensity, sliding his mouth to her ear. “Go into my bedroom and get undressed. Then lay facedown on the bed.”

She immediately tensed up.

Ben waited for her to ask why, or what he had in mind.

“I…” He heard her swallow. “Which room is your bedroom?”

“The room with the four-poster log bed.”

Keeping her eyes averted, she climbed off him and disappeared down the hallway.

He flipped through channels for five minutes before he followed her. He paused in the doorway, his eyes drinking her in. Ainsley’s body was an abundance of curves, just exactly the body type he liked best.

After shucking his jeans and shirt, he grabbed a necktie, a condom and a bottle of lube from his dresser. From beside the bed, he ordered, “Spread your arms out.” Then he straddled her, his knees bracketing her thighs. His cock stirred when his balls brushed the soft curves of her ass. Ben placed a kiss on the back of her head, inhaling the subtle scent of her shampoo. “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you look?”

He dug his thumbs into the base of her neck and gradually moved across the tops of her shoulders, using a combination of soft and harder pressure. Letting himself enjoy her supple flesh beneath his hands. Goose bumps rippled across her back every time the rougher skin on his hands glided across her. He kneaded her biceps and triceps. He nestled a kiss in the bend of each elbow before massaging her forearms and hands. When he reversed course and dragged his palms over her arms, Ainsley didn’t utter a peep.

“You’re awful quiet,” he remarked as his thumbs followed the line of her spine.

“I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to speak.”

Ben stilled. “Why would you think that?”

“Because those are the Dom’s rules in books I’ve read.”

“What books?”

“The ones that deal with…BDSM.”

To some extent, he hated the way the term BDSM was thrown around as much as he disliked the casual use of the word Master.

“Have you read any of those books?” she asked.

“Fiction? Or nonfiction?”

“Either.”

“Nonfiction. When we first went to the Denver club. One of the owners saw that we were clueless bastards and took pity on us. He gave us a stack of material to read so we knew the differences between what we wanted as dominants and what was expected in certain Dom/sub relationships. And I’ll admit, even from the start, I’ve been on the side of the fence where dominance is used as a sexual tool to heighten sexual experiences. I’m not into debasing a sub by using a cage or a pallet to sleep on or a shock collar. Or extreme pain games. Never been tempted by bloodsport or knife play or piss play or even breath play. If I knew subs who were into that stuff, I’d avoid them. But I’ll admit it’s practically nonexistent at the Rawhide anyway.” He rubbed a spot at the base of her neck. “So the subs don’t speak because they’re gagged or something in these books?“

“No. A sub isn’t supposed to speak unless asked a direct question by her dominant. And in scenes, the sub isn’t supposed to cry out in pain or in pleasure unless the Dom permits her to.”

Ben tamped down his temper. “Have I ever said you can’t talk?”

“Umm. No.”

“Think I’ll ever forbid you from speakin’ your mind?”

“No.”

“I might take issue if you argue with me about something I tell you to do, but I don’t expect monk-like silence from you.”

“Oh.”

“And this isn’t a scene,” he said testily.

She lifted up and looked over her shoulder at him. “It’s not?”

“No. Christ. I’m giving you a massage.”

“Why?”

“Why am I giving you a massage? Because I wanted to put my hands all over you. And you acted nervous. I thought it’d calm you down.”

Ainsley continued to stare at him.

“What?”

“You confuse me, Bennett. This confuses me. The variances in the different types of Dom/sub relationships…”

“Hey, there are no rules for us besides the ones I set—with your input. I suspect this will be a
learn as we go
thing for both of us.” He lightly slapped her ass. “Face back on the mattress, so I can finish.”

From that point on, Ainsley was vocal.

“So tell me more about these BDSM books you read. What things you read in them that turned you off.”

“You’re more interested in what I
didn’t
like than what I did?”

“I’m pretty confident I can figure out what you like.” He pressed his thumbs onto a knot beside her right shoulder blade.

“Oh. I like that. You hit it. Right. On. The. Money.” Another sexy moan of delight. “You have magic hands.”

“Tell me one sex fantasy that ain’t in a book.”

Ainsley didn’t answer.

He stopped the massage. “Tell me or no more magic fingers.”

She groaned and said, “Fine, I have a stranger fantasy. It’s dark. I wake up and notice him in the shadows. I’m freaked out and then he starts saying all these sexy things. How he’s whacked off imagining how it’d be to touch me. How he knows what I sound like when I climax because he’s watched me touching myself. He does all sorts of sexy, naughty things to me and then he just leaves and I never knew who he was.”

Ben kissed her temple “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

“I’d hate for you to think I’m the boring banker type with no imagination.”

His chuckle vibrated against her neck. “The last damn thing you are is boring. So tell me more about these books. Specifically what you don’t like.”

“I don’t like the master and slave mentality of the BDSM relationships. Where the subs are always expected to kneel at the Dom’s feet. Or when they have to keep their heads lowered and eyes averted, not only for their Dom but also for all other Doms, in a club situation. I don’t like how the subs are supposed to walk three steps behind their Doms. I really didn’t like the leash and collar thing.”

“Were you disappointed that you didn’t see any of that goin’ on in the Rawhide?”

“God no.”

“That’s a pretty long list of dislikes.”

“I was just getting started.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Ainsley jerked up. “Now that I’ve told you my fantasy and dislikes, will you use them against me?”

Ben pushed her back down. “You know, I’m a little tired of you jumping to the worst conclusion when it comes to me and who I am as your dominant. I get that you wanna know ahead of time everything I have planned for you, Ainsley, but guess what? It ain’t happening.” He grabbed the tie and said, “Arms behind your back.”

“But, I didn’t mean—”

“Now.” As soon as her arms were in place, he tied her wrists together. He spread her legs and slicked up his fingers with the lube. “Angle your hips so I can reach your pussy.”

She had to push up on her knees, and she didn’t look comfortable, but she didn’t argue.

Ben’s fingers traced her slit. “A massage makes you wet?”

“Only when you give me one.”

“A total suck-up answer.”

Ainsley moaned when he slipped a finger inside her.

“You need to concentrate on my voice and listen to what I’m telling you.”

“It feels so good. What if I can’t concentrate?”

Ben didn’t stop stroking her wet folds as he spoke. “Then you’ll learn the difference between punishment and discipline pretty damn quick.”

“Is this punishment?”

“No.” He swept his thumb over her clit. “This is discipline.” He brushed his lips below her earlobe. “Don’t come. No matter what I do, you don’t get to come.”

“But—”

“This is not up for discussion. You will not come. Not now, not at your house. Your orgasms belong to me. They’re my responsibility. You don’t control them anymore. Understand?”

“Uh-huh.”

Ben pushed two fingers inside her and stroked her G-spot, while gently strumming her clit. “Say yes, Bennett, I understand.”

“Yes, Bennett, I understand.”

He teased, tortured and tormented her. Taking her to the edge several times, seeing if she’d disobey and throw herself over. He skimmed her jawline with light kisses. “How close are you?”

“Very. God.”

Ben flipped her onto her back and started kissing down the side of her neck.

“Don’t. Please.” Ainsley twisted her head away.

Which caused Ben to grab her hair and pull slightly. “Stay. Still.”

She whimpered softly.

“I adore your body, angel.” Ben kissed the hollow of her throat. The tops of her breasts. “I intend to play with it, however I want, for as long as I want. Testing your limits and mine.” He kept finger fucking her, studying her reactions, from the anxious expression on her face, to the hard tips of her nipples, to the flexing of her toes and the clenching of her jaw. When he heard that swift intake of breath, he removed his hand from between her thighs.

Her entire body drooped against the mattress, but she wasn’t relaxed.

“You did good.” Ben turned her on her side so they faced each other. She sighed as he continued to intersperse tender kisses with languorous caresses. “You ready to talk?”

Ainsley slowly opened her eyes. “Talk? Aren’t we going to…” Her gaze dropped to his crotch and the outline of his fully erect dick.

“Fuck? Make love? Have wild sex? Not tonight.”

“Oh.”

“You’re gonna tell me your hard limit. One thing that’s an absolute no.”

“Only one thing?”

“Yep. You won’t know if other things on your very long dislike list would actually be a like unless you try it. Fair warning: I’ve only got a month with you, so I wanna give you a taste of everything.”

“Everything?”

“Everything but your one thing. So what’s it gonna be?”

She blurted, “You using one of those scary bullwhip or snake whips on me is an absolute no.”

Damn. No single tail. “Okay.”

“You just accept that?”

“Yes. Because you only get one. Everything else is a possibility.” Ben smooched the frown between her eyebrows. “Tell me something you’ve never told anyone.”

“Like what?”

“Anything.” He traced her cheekbone with his knuckles. “Big secret, little annoyance. Give me a piece of yourself you’ve never shared with anyone else.”

She focused on his chest and those tiny furrowed lines appeared on her forehead. “I had lasik surgery on both my eyes four years ago. People knew about it because I’d been wearing glasses for twenty-two years, but I never told anyone why I did it.”

“Why?”

“I thought losing the glasses would make me more attractive to my husband. Obviously it didn’t work. He just bitched about the price of the surgery.”

“Were you happy with your decision?”

“Yes. I felt younger, freer. I liked the change.”

Ben kissed the corners of her eyes. “You should. I’m guessing it was the first of many changes.”

“It was. It is. Same question back at you, Ben.”

Not Bennett. Interesting. He didn’t answer, just kept touching her how he pleased.

“You constantly harp about honesty. You expect mine but don’t offer yours? That’s crap. Sir.”

He held back a Dom-like retort. “You’re right.”

“So tell me something you’ve never told anyone.”

That’s when Ben knew he’d have to up the stakes. Ainsley had given him what he’d asked for, but her answer wasn’t anything really personal. Or if that was her idea of exposing an unseen part of herself, he’d need to convince her to mine deeper. She was still far too guarded with him, and he needed to break that first barrier. Show his vulnerability on a level that made him slightly uncomfortable.