The Devil's Cowboy by Kallista Dane Read Free Book Online Page B

spanking in earnest. She thought it had been bad before, but now he seemed to be putting every ounce of his considerable strength into the job. Ellen forgot her embarrassment, forgot her anger. Her whole world centered around the relentless wallop of his palm on her tender bottom. She’d written lots of spanking scenes for her erotic romances, but she’d never been spanked for real, not even as a child. She was stunned at the searing agony a bare hand was capable of inflicting on her defenseless bottom. Ellen felt a pang of sympathy for all the reluctant heroines she’d placed in this position.
    “Rafe, stop. Please, Rafe!” She cringed inside when she heard her voice, begging, but right then she vowed she’d do whatever it took to get him to end this torment.
    “I can’t stop, Ellen. Not till you tell me you remember this, remember being spanked when you disobeyed me in the past. Putting you across my lap was always the way I could get you to settle down and listen to reason. You’ve driven me to distraction so often .” As he spoke, he was whacking her bottom steadily, emphasizing his words with especially harsh smacks.
    “Do you remember the time we were down at the river? I told you not to go in alone, but you wandered off when I was asleep and decided to take a dip. I yanked you out just before that crocodile appeared. Then I cut a switch from one of the trees lining the bank, bent you over a rock, and tanned your dripping wet ass.”
    His words barely penetrated the haze of pain that his relentless paddling was creating. Did he say something about a crocodile? Maybe the man was deranged. Ellen gave up struggling and sagged across his iron-hard thighs, hoping if she lay limp he’d decide she’d been spanked enough and end this agony. Thankfully, it seemed to work. He stopped smacking her—and laughed. A bolt of white-hot fury shot through her.
    “What the hell is so funny?” she demanded, twisting around to give him an angry glare.
    “Up to your old tricks, are you?”
    “People think I’m crazy when I say I talk to dead people, but you? You are definitely insane. Old tricks? Crocodiles? ”
    His hand moved lazily, tracing circles on her stinging bottom. Ellen squirmed, feeling a hot flush of embarrassment at her position. She imagined the scene from his point of view—a half-naked strange woman draped provocatively over his lap, her quivering bum no doubt glowing bright red by now. In the scenes she wrote, all her alpha male heroes loved to see their woman in this position. She wondered fleetingly if Rafe was getting turned on. As though he’d read her mind again, he ground himself up against her a little and even through his jeans she felt the very large, very hard evidence that he was thoroughly enjoying this whole situation.
    “Now darlin’, you know what I’m talking about.”
    Ellen shivered. His voice was warm and low, pouring over her, his hand gentle on her burning skin. In spite of herself, she felt the unmistakable thrill of arousal beginning to build between her legs.
    He went on. “Deep inside, you remember. You’ve always pretended you had enough, hoping I’d quit because I was convinced you’d learned your lesson. But I know better. What we’re facing here is a lot more dangerous than that croc on the banks of the Nile. You need to listen to me, Ellen. I can’t have you running away, breaking the strength of our bond. This is the most powerful foe we’ve ever faced. Together, we can deal with it, send this tortured soul home, break the evil force holding her here.”
    Ellen shivered again. His voice was hypnotic, his touch even more so. She relaxed and took a deep breath, allowing the anger to flow out of her. And that’s when the images flooded into her head.
    A hundred places, a thousand fleeting moments seen in an instant—and in all of them, she gazed into Rafe’s soul through his warm brown eyes. There he was, clad in the garb of a Roman gladiator, stretching out his