Cowboy Casanova Page 26



Using the wetness from her body, he rubbed his thumb over her clit.


She began bumping her pelvis against his hand, trying to get more friction. “Please.”


“No.”


Immediately her body stilled. Then she surrendered.


“Good girl.” After teasing her, reminding her who was in charge of her orgasms, Ben quickened the motion of his thumb, increased the pressure on that plumped bit of flesh and watched as Ainsley came unhinged.


She was a goddess, swamped with pleasure, her head thrown back, her silky hair swaying, her kiss-swollen lips parted as she cried out, the pulse throbbing in her neck in tandem with the pulse throbbing beneath his stroking thumb.


He drew out the climax, and only when she was spent did he drive himself over the edge. Yanking on the cuffs chain, bowing her body backward so he could see his cock pumping in and out of her. His fingers dug into her thigh when his balls lifted.


Ainsley’s pussy squeezed his cock as seed shot out of his shaft.


Ben’s eyes rolled back in his head. He blanked out as her sex milked him of any thought processes. Zoned out, done in, checked out.


Sweet nuzzling on the side of his face roused him. “Bennett.”


“Mmm?”


“I like the cuffs.”


He laughed and kissed his favorite spot on her throat.


“And thank you for easing me into this Dom/sub thing.”


Ben looked at her. “A forced blowjob and me handcuffing you during sex is…easing you into it?”


She nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, your aggressive side really does it for me. Like when you tied me to the bench at the club. But I like this closeness too. It almost felt…like it was more than sex.”


Instead of admitting, for me too, he said gruffly, “Bend your knees.” He helped her stand, removed the cuffs and checked the circulation in her arms before hitting the john to ditch the condom. When he returned to the kitchen, Ainsley was dressed.


“Leaving?”


“I need to get my beauty sleep. Don’t you know bankers’ hours are brutal?”


He laughed.


“Have a safe trip to Rapid City tomorrow and I’ll see you Friday after work.”


Ben walked her out to her car, ignoring her protests that she wasn’t afraid of the dark.


As he watched her drive away he knew he’d have to push her next time. Break down some of those barriers. Even when he understood it’d cause some of his walls to crumble a little too.


Chapter Fourteen


The doorbell rang and Ainsley set the bottle of Pinot Grigio alongside the two wineglasses on the kitchen counter.


As soon as she answered the door, Layla squeezed Ainsley in a big hug. “It’s so great to have you living so close.”


“I’ll admit your phone call this morning surprised me.”


“Because I invited myself over? We don’t live that far apart anymore, so there’s no excuse for us not to hang out. Besides, we would’ve thought nothing of driving an hour across Denver to have dinner together.”


“True. Come in.”


The cats observed from the end of the hallway as Layla kicked off her Ugg boots and draped her parka and scarf over the back of the couch.


“Cute kitties,” Layla cooed, crouching down to hold out her hand. “What are their names?”


“Wally is the tabby. I found him last spring huddled by a cart return at Wal-Mart. Poor thing was just a baby. And Charo, the calico, was my animal shelter rescue the week before. Some sicko kid scorched her tail and cut off one side of her whiskers. But look at that cute face. I couldn’t resist.”


“Charo. As in she’s been…charred? A, you have a bizarre sense of humor.”


Ainsley poured the wine, handing Layla a glass. “I apologize for the boxes all over the living room. I haven’t completely unpacked.”


Layla tucked herself into the corner of the loveseat. She ran her hand over the peacock blue cushion. “This is a stunning sofa. So bright.”


“I swore I’d never have a neutral room again. Nothing boring. Or safe.” Ainsley’s gaze moved over the spring green chairs opposite the vividly patterned blue and green couch that complemented both the chairs and loveseat.


“I’m glad you’re stepping outside that neat little box you’ve lived in for so long.”


“Better late than never.” She let the wine rest on her tongue. “So Murphy didn’t need you in the bar tonight?”


“Thursdays are quiet. People are gearing up for the weekend. I probably would’ve sat at home anyway, and Murph agreed I needed to come here to talk to you.”


Ainsley’s face warmed, recalling the last time she’d seen Layla at the club. Was she here to explain that scene? “I wasn’t sure what my reaction would be to watching you and Murphy. It wasn’t what I expected. Can we just leave it at that?”


“What are you talking about?” Layla’s eyes widened. “Oh. The public scene last weekend?” She waved her hand. “I’m not an exhibitionist, which is why Murphy almost always chooses that punishment when I’ve stepped over the line. I’m here to talk to you about something else. Someone else actually. Bennett.”


“What about him?”


“Let me say I knew Bennett was a rancher. I had no idea where. As a sub, I don’t ask questions that will get me in trouble. Murphy and I were talking about you, specifically the changes in your life, including moving from Denver to Sundance. He got really quiet. Which freaked me out. Then he told me Bennett lives in Sundance.”


Ainsley swirled the wine in her glass before she looked up. “I know. We’ve already run into each other.”


Layla gasped. “You did? Did he recognize you?”


“Right away.” She groaned. “Of course it happened at the bank. He requested my presence at his place that night so we could talk. And…” Why was she feeling shy, telling Layla this?


“And what?”


“He asked for a month of me being his submissive.”


“I’m assuming you said yes?”


“Why would you assume that?” Ainsley said a little sharper than she intended.


“Whoa.” Layla held up her hand. “Not trying to piss you off, A. I suspected you’d be a good fit for Bennett in the club. Especially since you’re not sure if you’re interested in participating in this lifestyle beyond a short-term sampling. And Bennett…well, he only does short-term.”


“Why is that?”


“Bennett likes variety. He’s got excellent instincts with whips, floggers, riding crops and canes, knowing how far he can push the submissive’s pain threshold. Seems he’s always being asked to show his expertise on another member’s partner. When he gets her to that headspace, he returns her to her partner.”


“So Ben doesn’t have sex with every woman he demonstrates on?”


Layla shook her head. “Hardly any, actually. He’s very mindful of boundaries, yet there’s never any doubt who’s in charge during the scene. There’s something about his quiet intensity that draws subs like bees to flowers.”


“Or it could be the size of his…ah…stinger that attracts them,” Ainsley said.


“Oh man.” Layla giggled. “Ain’t that the truth. Murph once gave me twenty lashes because he caught me licking my lips during one of Bennett’s public scenes.”


“Yes, Ben’s got a smoking hot body besides his impressive stinger.”


Layla squinted at her. “What’s up with you calling him Ben?”


“When he’s in Dom mode he’s Bennett. When we’re hanging out, he’s Ben.”


“How much time have you spent with him?”


“The last three nights. We’ve come to terms on the specifics of his one-month proposal. Since we live in the same town, he suggested we skip the club for the month.”


“Are you all right with that? You trust him? Because some subs only want to play where there’s supervision in case the Dom goes too far.”


“I trust Bennett. Even when the idea of surrendering that much control to him scares the bejeezus out of me.”


“Learning to integrate your submissive side will be hard for you, but that doesn’t mean you should alter your personality, in or out of the bedroom, just to please him.”


Ainsley frowned. “Explain that.”


“Doms expect a certain amount of disobedience from subs, especially new subs just learning their parameters. You are a strong woman with strong opinions. If you never act out, either accidentally or on purpose, how will you know the difference between punishment and discipline?”


She vaguely remembered Ben mentioning that, but she hadn’t asked specifics. “There’s a difference?”


Layla nodded. “Murphy forcing me to do a public scene was punishment for the way I humiliated him. Discipline was the caning I received in private the next three days to reinforce his dominance and as a warning not to do it again.”


“So I’m supposed to be defiant to see how Bennett reacts?”


“Not always. But accepting everything Bennett says or does…where is the learning curve? What are the limits? For both of you?”


“I never thought of it that way.”


“As happy as I am that you’re getting a taste of the lifestyle, even behind bedroom doors, I want to caution you about a couple of things.”


Ainsley expected Layla to alert her to the physical pain from spankings. Or reiterating practicing safe sex, or suggesting Ainsley call her if something happened that made her uncomfortable. She hadn’t expected her friend to warn her off Ben completely.


“Don’t fall for him, A. Not as Bennett, not as Ben. Keep the relationship focused on you embracing your submissive nature with an experienced Dom.”


“That’s it?”


“You shouldn’t look to get involved long-term with the first Dom you meet anyway. Don’t expect promises of forever or fidelity, especially not from Bennett. Don’t agree to play every night. And for heaven’s sake, don’t spend the night with him because that’s a gateway drug for subs. As soon as you’re able to function following his aftercare, leave. Or make him leave.” Layla’s gaze turned shrewd. “What?”

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