Rugged Texas Cowboy Page 17

  “I bought it.” He shrugged his broad shoulders, crossing his arms over his chest as his blue eyes gleamed from within his ruggedly dark face. “It’s mine, Angel. Not yours.”

  “He had no right to sell that torque.” She felt like throwing something at him. “It’s mine.”

  “The papers he had said otherwise.” He moved from the doorway, closing the door as he stepped over to the opposite wall.

  Seconds later the lamps on the bed tables glowed to life, and she was certain the downstairs lights that previously didn’t work were now blazing brilliantly, just as they had been the past two nights.

  “His papers are a mockery.” She faced him fully now, her lips thinning at the arrogance, the supreme male confidence that surrounded him like an aura.

  His tilted grin was knowing, his stance—thumbs hooked in the pockets of his low-riding jeans, legs braced apart—was one of sexual assurance. He believed he had her exactly where he wanted her. Unfortunately, as much as she hated it, he might not be too far off the mark.

  And as sad as it was to admit, he was turning her on. He had turned her on from the first moment she’d met him, had made her long for a touch she knew she shouldn’t crave, a man she knew she couldn’t hold.

  He was like a wild wind, blowing in, ripping past defenses and tearing asunder denials, stroking with a devil’s touch, only to blow away again, leaving what was left behind lost and broken. He would break her heart in just such a manner, if she allowed it.

  “The papers are completely legal. I made certain of it, Angel-mine.” His voice was a caress, stroking over her senses despite the male mockery in the tone. “They’ll stand up in any court.”

  “You had no right to buy it, knowing it was to be left to me.” And that hurt worse. That he had bought it, despite knowing that her father was selling it unfairly.

  “If I hadn’t bought it, someone else would have.” Those wicked, wicked blue eyes stared back at her with a hint of laughter and a flame of arousal.

  The very valid, logical argument did nothing to sway her.

  “Then sell it back to me,” she demanded roughly. “You’ve no need of it, Jack. The torque is nothin’ to ya. It’s everything to me.”

  She watched the frown that creased his brow as she faced him and prayed she was finally getting through to him. The man was such an enigma you could rarely tell what he was thinking. The most you could be certain of was that he was horny. She had rarely seen a time that the bulge in his pants wasn’t fully engorged and stallion-hard.

  “I doubt you would meet my price,” he finally mused pensively. “And if you did, I’d be more than upset to realize how easily you could be had. How easily can you be had, Angel-mine?”

  She flew at him. Teeth bared, nails extended, she went for those damned laughing eyes. The bastard dared to think she would whore herself for him. For anything. And in doing so, he blocked any desire she had to give in to him. Just as he had done when he bought the torque, placing between them obstacles that her pride could never surmount.

  His laughter echoed in her ears as he caught her, swinging her around and holding her nearly immobile as he pressed her into the wall, her cheek pressing into the cool dry wall as she screamed out in impotent rage.

  “I’ll cut your devil’s heart out of your chest,” she snarled furiously. “Blackhearted, evil wretch. I’ll gut ye myself.”

  “Bloodthirsty little vixen,” he growled at her ear rather than releasing her. “If you had been a little less confrontational and demanding, you might have had the torque before I ever left Ireland. But you had to play the shrew instead.”

  He released her quickly, moving well away from her as she turned on him with rage in her eye.

  “Ye say that now,” she snapped heatedly. “But I know better. I did all but go to my knees and plead with you not to buy the piece.”

  She was breathing harshly, fighting not just her fury but also the unaccountable pleasure she had felt as he restrained her, held her immobile, and pressed his hard body into her own. Never had she known such weakening arousal and desire as she had each time he had done that.

  “As I said, if I hadn’t bought it, someone else would have. Your best chance was to convince me to sell it back to you before breaking into my home and attempting to steal from me. I don’t like thieves, Angel.”

  “Ye should,” she snarled. “Birds of a feather and so forth.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You’re pushing your luck, baby.”

  “And I’m no’ your babe.” Her hands were clenched at her side, her nails biting into her palms. “Go ahead, ye coward, call your precious sheriff and have me arrested. Do your worst. I’d expect nothing less from a bastard such as yourself.”

  “You think that’s my worst?” His voice was a rough growl, proof that she had finally pierced that amused exterior. Let him get angry. Damn him, it wasn’t possible for him to become any angrier than she was herself.

  “I think you’re a coward with no more honor than an alley cat skulking through the shadows,” she charged, heedless of the darkening of his eyes, the way his expression tightened. “Only a man with no honor would steal such an heirloom for the paltry price you paid, despite my pleas,” she accused him rashly.

  “I’m going to tan your hide.” He lifted his lip in a snarl, his body tense, his eyes narrowing on her dangerously.

  “I’ve no doubt you’ll try,” she sniped. “It sounds like something you’d attempt to cover your own shortcomings. Does it make ye feel like a big man, Jack Riley, to overpower little women? To show them who ye think is boss?”

  She ignored the fact that it had turned her on like nothing she had ever known when he had done just that.

  “Actually, it does.” The smooth, dark tone should have warned her. She should have known better than to be taken in by his playboy image, his attitude of calculated disinterest. In that moment, she knew she had made a grave tactical error, and now she would pay for it.

  SIX

  “Now, there is a damned fine sight. Angel-mine, that has to be the prettiest little ass I’ve ever seen.”

  Angel screamed out furiously, the sound muffled by the black gag secured over her lips as she fought the strong hands that held her wrists behind her back as he stretched her over his lap.

  She had fought him like a demon, attempting to rake his flesh with her nails, to kick out at him with her feet. He had laughed, a rough, sexy sound that she had liked entirely too much. And though fury raced hard and fast through her bloodstream, outrage that he would attempt to actually spank her rioting through her system, still, the flares of excitement were singing through her veins.

  That didn’t mean she had to let him live. No man would spank her and live to tell the tale. She was going to kill him. She was going to slice his heart out and feed it to the wolves. She would …

  She screeched in humiliating surprise as his hand landed on her upturned rump with a stinging little slap that was more startling than painful. And much too pleasurable. It wasn’t supposed to be pleasurable. It was supposed to be humiliating. Infuriating. Painful. It wasn’t supposed to tear into her womb and leave it convulsing in erotic hunger.

  “Stay still,” he ordered lazily. “Let me at least admire my handiwork here. If you’re going to go to the trouble to spank a spoiled little witch, then you should at least have the pleasure of viewing the soft little ass you’re reddening. I warned you, didn’t I? Try to steal from me and I’d paddle your ass.”

  Her cheeks flamed in mortification as his hand smoothed over her nearly bare rump. What had possessed her to wear the silken little thong rather than the less-revealing panties she had packed as well? Sexy lingerie and playing cat burglar didn’t go well together, but she realized, in one startling moment, that she had worn the softest, sexiest undergarments she possessed.

  Bits of silk and lace she had bought months before, imagining how they would tempt the shadowy lover she often dreamed would come into her life. The one who would make her f
eel courageous enough to be a woman, to take what she hungered for, to live out the fantasies she admitted to only in the darkness of the night.

  This wasn’t one of her fantasies, but it was making her hotter than anything she could have envisioned.

  Jack had managed to not only wrestle her across his knees, but to lower her pants as well, leaving her nearly bare to his lust-filled gaze. And she knew it was lust-filled. She could feel the heat of it stroking her bottom even as his fingers smoothed over it.

  “You have the most delightful little ass,” he crooned, the sound striking a bolt of pleasure straight to her cunt.

  How she hated that response to him. Hated the knowledge that what he was doing to her was unlike anything she had known in her life, yet it was likely commonplace to him. A ragged whimper of shameful need escaped her lips at the admiring tone of his voice. She had never considered herself particularly pretty. She had rarely felt sexy or as sexual as she did at this moment.

  She struggled against him again, fighting his hold, determined to break free before the dampness leaking from her pussy began to wet the dark silk of her panties. Before he realized the erotic pleasure she was gaining from her helplessness. Who could have known? Surely she hadn’t imagined that such dominant extremes could destroy her defenses in such a way.

  “Bad girl.” He smacked her bare rump again, causing a throttled scream to tear from her chest. One she prayed he thought was no more than fury.

  Velvet heat rushed through the warmed cheek of her ass and struck her pussy like a sword of erotic fire. Mercy, she screamed silently. Have mercy on the helpless pleasure tearing through her.

  She wasn’t a bad girl, but at his accusation she realized how much she wanted to be one. To be a wicked, wanton. To take him as she had only dreamed of taking a man before.

  “Soft and sweet.” His hand smoothed over the curves again. “Do you know what I’d like to do, Angel-mine? I’d like to put you on your knees, part these pretty curves, and watch my dick slide deep inside that tight little entrance to your ass.”

  Her eyes widened in shock as his words tore through her at the same time he delivered another heated strike to her ass. Her anus clenched, and her pussy began to drench her panties. Black silk panties that she knew would show the proof of her arousal.

  Her breasts swelled instantly, her nipples hardening to the point of pain as he delivered another slap to the opposite side, heating her backside repeatedly as she began to shudder, to writhe in his grip.

  She would not enjoy this, she screamed to herself as he continued to redden her rear, making it blush, making her entire body heat with the forbidden pleasure. And each second of it reminded her of his words, the image of him behind her, parting the cheeks of her ass and forcing his cock into the dark hole there.

  She screamed as another blow landed, the sensations spearing deep inside her pussy, rioting through her clit until it became engorged with the need for release. Each heated strike to her rear had her twisting on his lap, common sense and sanity retreating further into the ether of lust as she began to moan in compliance, in desperate pleasure.

  “Fuck!” She could hear the rough tone, almost awed, definitely surprised as he halted the erotic spanking, causing her to arch her back to lift her ass to him for more. She was so close—didn’t he understand how close she was to attaining that final pleasure?

  “Angel?” His voice was almost guttural as his fingers slid between her thighs, rasping against the black silk of her panties as she shuddered in ecstasy at the touch. “Oh, baby, you’re so wet. So fucking hot and wet.”

  He moved then, lifting her from his lap, tearing the gag from her lips as he stood her before him.

  Her legs were unsteady she swayed, staring down at him, shocked by her own body, by the weakness assailing her. If it weren’t for his hands steadying her, she wondered if she would have melted into a puddle at his feet.

  Dazed, she stared down into his gaze, wondering at the near blackness of his once blue eyes as she felt the fingers of one hand move once again between her thighs.

  “Jack,” she whispered, unable hold back the shudder that racked her limbs as his fingers smoothed over the sodden crotch of her panties once again. “Jack, please.”

  She pressed her hips forward, tilting them, gasping at the fiery sensations as his hand cupped her mound, his upper palm rasping against her clit and sending it rioting in extreme ecstasy.

  “Such a naughty, wet little Angel,” he whispered again, causing her pussy to spasm in greedy hunger as she felt his fingers move beneath the elastic leg band. “So wet…”

  Like an erotic whisper, the pads of his fingers smoothed over the drenched curls as Angel felt the breath rush from her body. It wasn’t hard enough; the touch was too soft, barely there. She needed more. Needed something harder, something hotter.

  A second later her hands flew to his shoulders, gripping them in desperation as he began to part the tender, sensitive folds, his fingertips rubbing against nerve-laden flesh as she trembled violently. Waiting. Oh God, the waiting was killing her. She wanted him to rip the silk away from her body, feel his fingers plunging inside her, hard, fast, ripping away her sanity and throwing her into the endless abyss of pleasure that she could feel waiting just out of reach.

  It was this that had drawn her to him during the weeks he had spent in Ireland. The naughty, wicked sexuality. The knowing glint in his eyes assuring her that she would find delights in his arms she had never known in another’s. He was like a flame, and she was the moth, desperate to be burned.

  Her lips parted, her mouth opening as she fought for breath, fought to keep her eyes open, her gaze locked with his as she felt his fingers, broad and callused, nearing the spasming entrance to her burning pussy. So close. She wanted them inside her, filling her …

  “Jack…” The low keening cry echoed around them as her hips jerked, pressed closer, the honeyed, slick juices spilling from her cunt as his fingers paused, holding rapture just out of reach while she gasped in lust-crazed desperation.

  “Fuck, this is insane!” His sudden curse was followed by the removal of his fingers from her burning flesh as he bent, grabbed the waist of her pants, and jerked them quickly back to her hips.

  “No. Damn you! What are you doing?” She pushed at his hands, only to have him grip her hips as he rose, turning and pushing her to the bed.

  “Not like this,” he growled, breathing roughly as she steadied herself, staring up at him in shock. “Shit.” He raked his fingers through his hair, watching her with a shocked expression she felt must mirror her own.

  Angel blinked back, fighting to breathe, to make sense of the sudden shift from hungry passion, greedy lust, to being bereft of his touch.

  “Stay put, damn you!” he ordered, his tone guttural as she moved to rise.

  She shook her head, her eyes lowering, only to widen again as she realized how very close she was to the instrument of pleasure she needed so desperately. The bulge of his cock was only inches in front of her face, pressing against his jeans, the thick length clearly discernible beneath the material.

  Dazed. Uncertain where her daring originated from, she reached out, her hand running over the hard ridge as his body tensed violently. A sizzling curse escaped his lips as his hand caught her wrist, the other gripping her chin to raise her head.

  “Think about it,” he snarled heatedly. “I’ll fuck your mouth until you can’t scream, can’t whimper because you’re so full of my dick. And when you think it will never stop I’ll bury myself between those sweet lips and shoot every drop of my come down your throat. And it won’t stop there, girl. I’ll strip you down and fuck you so hard and deep you’ll never forget the feel of me. Ever. Think about it, damn you, because once I have you—once I taste that sweet pussy or bury my dick inside you—I won’t let you go until I own you. Body and soul, little witch. I’ll own you. Make certain, very damned certain you can accept that before you try to accept me.”

  He had lost h
is mind. Jack raked his fingers roughly through his hair as he stalked down the stairs, ignoring Angel’s furious screams as she pounded on the locked bedroom door, her enraged threats almost amusing.

  There was no room for amusement inside him at the moment. His guts were ripped in half, every bone and muscle in his body hurting with the need to fuck the tempting little witch, to hear her screams of pleasure rather than those of fury.

  What the hell had happened? He had meant only to teach her a lesson, to spank that tempting little ass hard enough to teach her a measure of respect. Instead, what he had meant to be a disciplinary action had turned into an erotic lesson in his own self-control. Something so fucking hot, he felt blistered from head to toe.

  What had she done to him? Jack paused at the foot of the stairs, raking his fingers through his hair as he realized his hands were trembling. He could still smell the sweet, hot scent of her body. She smelled like honey, warm and slick, tempting the senses and reminding him of why he hadn’t pushed the sexual boundary she had placed between them after that first kiss in Ireland: because he knew, one more taste—taste, nothing—one more touch and he was addicted.

  He could feel it, that compulsion for more. The driving need to lay her on that bed and taste every creamy inch of her.

  “Damn.” He paced into the living room, twisting his head and shoulders as the furious screams above began to abate.

  Walking away from her had been next to impossible. Turning away from the fiery, hot feel of her body had torn something apart deep inside him. He wanted to go back. He wanted to stalk into that bedroom, throw her to the bed, and drive his dick so hard and deep inside her that he couldn’t tell where he ended and she began.

  He grimaced painfully, one hand dropping to the heavy bulge beneath his jeans as the material bit at the sensitive flesh of his cock. A groan tore from his throat as pleasure whipped through his body.