Cowgirl Up and Ride (Rough Riders #3)(74)

Her * was on fire. It quickly became numb as Cord f*cked her with the Popsicle.


She heard drips—a combination of her flowing juices and the melting ice splatting on the floor beneath her, and she moaned at the eroticism bombarding her from every angle.


Darkness. His warm tongue bathing the very tips of her nipples. The sucking noise of the Popsicle and the sweet orange scent. The hard stone digging into her butt. The ache in her arms from keeping herself upright. The sound of Cord’s broken breaths and the feel of his goatee gliding across her tingling skin.


The Popsicle disappeared and was replaced with Cord’s mouth. His hot tongue burrowed into her cold * and she screamed.


He slurped and sucked, eating at her with finesse, then gluttony. His mouth covered her mound completely as his teeth and tongue and lips demanded her total surrender.


She gave it.


AJ wailed as the orgasm thundered through her, every pulse point in her body was synchronized to the flicking of his tongue. Before she could catch her breath, Cord lifted her and reversed their positions. He sat on the hearth and stretched her over his lap.


“Now that you’ve been rewarded, you will take your punishment like a good girl.”


Smack smack—he landed a firm blow on each cheek.


She yelped at the sting of pain, which felt unbearably hot against the coldness of her butt cheeks.


“That’s one. Not a sound, AJ. Each sound earns another penalty.”


Whack whack.


“But—”


Two more spanks, harder than the first ones. “That’s another. I ain’t kiddin’. Hold still.”


Whack whack.


AJ bit her lip and braced herself. She hung upside down, naked, across a man’s lap as he peppered her ass with swats. Why wasn’t she humiliated? Why wasn’t she running away?


Because she knew it turned Cord on to epic levels. He was strung tight with exhilaration and heady with sexual power. He never hit her hard enough to hurt, just enough so there was no doubt who was in charge.


God. Was Cord McKay ever in charge.


Whack whack.


At some point around spank nineteen, AJ wasn’t dreading that connection of his big hand to her ass; she anticipated it. She craved it. So much to the point she moaned.


Loudly. Twice.


“That earned you two more, baby doll.”


Whack whack.


“This ass is beautiful, all pink and white.” Whack whack. “Warmed up from bein’ on that cold hearth.”


“Warm. It feels hot and—”


Whack whack whack whack. He hissed, “I can keep goin’ all night. I’m findin’ I like this way more than I ever imagined. Way more.”


Whack whack. His hands smoothed over the heated mounds, down between her legs.


He wormed two fingers inside her *.


“You’re soppin’ wet. This little spankin’ stopped bein’ a punishment, didn’t it?”


She didn’t answer.


Whack whack. “Answer me.”


“Yes! I thought about talking the whole time just so you’d keep doing it—”



“Enough!” Cord snarled and rolled her so she was in his arms. Holding her like a baby, he walked them to the rug. He set her on her feet, keeping her back to his chest. His heavy, harsh breathing stirred her hair. “On your hands and knees. Now.”