Cowboy Casanova (Rough Riders #12)(40)

beach. By the time she’d counted twelve smacks on each side, a strange kind of

anticipation began to build. She wanted to feel his hard palm connecting with her

flesh. Would the next blow be harder? Or softer?


It will be what he chooses. Enjoy it. Revel in it.


Bennett murmured, “That’s it. That’s what the bite of pain can do for you. Get your

mind to shut off from everything but how I can make you feel.” Then he administered

the hardest hits yet.


By the time she’d reached number twenty-two, that restless need for release had her

rubbing her thighs together. She wanted to tell Bennett to finger her clit with his

free hand.


“If you’ve got time to think about tellin’ me what you need to get off, then I’m

not makin’ it clear just who is in charge.”


Was the man a mind reader?


Then he smacked the back of the left thigh, up high by her *. Oh God. This was

torture.


Delicious torture.


“Count!” Another round of rapid-fire smacks.


She’d drifted off into that happy place again and hadn’t kept track. “I…I—”


Bennett barked, “Don’t. Move.” His hand left her back and both hands gripped her

hips as he hiked her ass in the air. More spanks. Not as hard as on her ass. He stroked

his fingers up her slit before he spanked her again.


Everything stopped. No more spanks. No more barked orders. Ainsley felt Bennett staring

at her ass.


Then he caged her body beneath his and that deep voice rumbled below her ear. “Your

* is wet. Really wet. Do you know what that means? That means you liked your first

spanking. And you took every blow so beautifully. Almost regally.” His warm lips

grazed her neck and she shivered. “Goddamn your ass is hot, woman.” He chuckled. “In

many ways. I wish you could see how pretty it looks. How your pink thighs and red ass

frame your *.”


Bennett’s words sent a thrill through her.


“Good behavior is rewarded. Get on your hands and knees on the end of the bed.”


She didn’t meet his gaze; she just did what she was told. In that moment of foggy

pleasure, she understood she’d needed freedom from choice. How could that feel so

freeing? Why did she have the urge to weep with gratitude that he’d shown her what’d

been missing?


The bed jiggled. Ainsley chanced a look between her legs when something soft brushed

the insides of her thighs. Oh. Wow. His head was right below her…


Bennett yanked her down until her * was right on his mouth. He feasted on her,

spreading her open with his thumbs. One minute that wickedly talented tongue was

f*cking so deep she swore she felt the tip tickling her G-spot. The next minute he

suckled her * lips, then speared them apart with his tongue. He lapped at her

delicately, making greedy masculine sounds, teasing the flesh hiding her clit with

firm-lipped bites. And finally, he sent her rocketing into bliss when he sucked

directly on her clit.


The orgasm blew her doors off. Ainsley threw her head back and practically screamed.

The strong pulses zipped from her clit to her * to her fiery bottom, making

everything—her skin, her sex, her butt—throb in sweet, torturous synchronicity.