Espino, Stacey - Hogtying the Cowgirl [Ride 'em Hard 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Stacey Espino Page B

delicate flower like some other country girls. And this kind of pain, like Clay’s spanks, managed to arouse her more than sweet words ever could.
    “Have you decided to sell me back my horse?”
    He ignored her. “Open your legs.”
    “What! I will not.” She pulled up her legs toward her chest, knees tightly together.
    “Open them, or you’ll feel my belt.” He stood tall, waiting.
    What did she want more? The crack of his belt or the thrill of exposing herself to him? Angel couldn’t decide which she wanted more, so chose to let him make the next move. She stuck up her chin in a display of defiance.
    He moved faster than she’d expected, heaving her up to the center of the bed and prying open her thighs with one bent up knee and his strong arms. “Take off the bra,” he said just before dipping his head between her legs. She remembered how thrilling it had been when Landon went down on her, and she was reliving the excitement. His firm, hot tongue lapped at her pussy, long, languid strokes, over and over. He stopped briefly to repeat, “Bra off.”
    This time she complied, afraid he’d stop what he was doing. She struggled to slip the bra over her head while he had her pelvis pinned to the mattress. He rewarded her compliance by suckling her clit in soft, rhythmic ways—an erotic lullaby that pulled her out of reality. The same heat she remembered from last week began to build up, curling her toes and burning her veins. As if he somehow sensed her impending orgasm, he pulled away, leaving her achy and needy. “Hey!”
    He winked at her like he did at the horse auction, which only ignited her anger. It was cruel to leave her on the cusp and then abandon her. “Remember what I told you? I’m going to teach you control. You’re like a green broke filly—you’re learning, but far from experienced.”
    “I don’t need to be taught, I need to be taken care of.”
    “Of course that’ll happen, too, but not yet.” He began to pull something out from his closet. A full-length mirror, like the one she had tacked to the back of her bedroom door at home. What was he up to? He set the mirror against the dresser, only a few feet from the bed. Then he got a tube of something from his nightstand and returned to her. He sat on the edge of the bed facing the mirror, his zipper undone and the band of his boxer briefs showing. The man had chiseled abs with a dark trail of hair leading from his navel and disappearing into his boxers. “Come here,” he said.
    She crawled toward him. When she saw her dangling breasts in the mirror, she immediately sat on her knees and cupped her breasts. He was grinning at her from the reflection, his dark, sexy eyes undoing her.
    “I don’t want to look at myself.”
    “You may act like a spoiled princess, but you’re insecure and inexperienced. I’m going to change all that.” He patted the section of mattress between his legs. “Come sit here.” She was curious. Angel slipped off the bed and sat where he’d told her, now directly in front of the mirror. She felt like a dirty little slut, the nest of blonde curls between her legs and full breasts on display. Clay was bare-chested but still in his blue jeans.
    “I don’t like this,” she said. She would much rather be on the bed with his head between her legs, or even his cock.
    “You will. I want to teach you something new.” He hooked a hand under each of her knees and pulled back, spreading her legs wide for the mirror. She struggled to close them, but he was determined and kept them apart. “Look at yourself. All pink and glistening. You’re beautiful. Your cunt is beautiful.”
    “I feel stupid,” she admitted.
    He hooked her feet on the outer sides of his thighs, so she was fully exposed on the edge of the mattress. “Hush.” His arms snaked around her, and he used two fingers to open her pussy lips. “Nice and tight. Perfect. But I’ll admit, there’s something special about being the man to take a