Saddled (The Stables Trilogy #3) (15 page)

Read Saddled (The Stables Trilogy #3) Online

Authors: Penny Lam

Chapter Nineteen

“You really want me to wear it?” Maple asked in a hushed tone.
“Yes.”

She bent over, not needing to be asked. In the next breath J.B. had his fingers up her ass, lube smearing deep into her. He fingered her roughly. She grunted. She couldn’t help it.

J.B. fucked her ass with his fingers hard enough that Maple was forced to brace herself with her arms, pushing back against his welcome invasion.

“There’s a good pony,” he praised, adding another finger to rigorously stretch her. “A proper pony always has a tail, yes?”

Maple stamped, chewing her lip, biting back the moans. Her pussy was flooded, her arousal dripping down her inner thighs.

J.B. replaced his fingers with the blunt, smooth head of her dildo-tail. Her body was so accustomed to its girth and primed from his rough touch, that the steel slid in easily.

The sudden, immense pressure turned her knees to butter.

“Stand up. Let me see you,” he commanded.

Wobbling only a moment, she raised herself straight, tossing her hair over her shoulder. As soon as the tail had been inserted, Maple let herself sink quickly into the subspace. Her body hummed with the air around her. She made tiny corrections; back arched more. Tits out. Elbows tucked back and hands loose at the wrists. Her anus clamped and unclamped around the thick dildo, working it subtly in her bowels.

“What a fine pony you are,” J.B. rasped, his voice husky with lust. “But it’s time for your punishment. You broke the rules. You rode Bane and you lost him.”

The swish of a crop whistled through the air before the leather loop at its end kissed her nipple. A jolt of pain tightened it into a hard, but sensitive, knot. Maple cried out.

To say that J.B. had been livid about Bane was an understatement. When Maple had filled him in on her story, his face had grown redder in increments. His eyes had flashed dark when she said she’d ridden Bane bareback at night.

The Feds had dropped her by the little Lost Maple on the way back, but there were only two tattered reins dangling from it’s branches.

Bane had helped her and now he was free.

J.B. snapped her other nipple and she screamed louder.

“Tsk, tsk. Good ponies don’t cry, Maple.”

This time he swatted her tummy, dangerously close to her pussy. The heat bloomed in a strip along the sensitive skin there, but Maple managed to suppress her moan into a snort.

“Better. Step your feet wide, Pony, and put your hands against the wall.”

Maple moved at his command. Cool air dusted her sopping slit, sending a shiver up her spine. She was bent over, tail on display. J.B. caught it, tugging it slightly. The movement of the dildo up her ass was sublime.

He flipped the tail up, exposing her pussy.

“I’m going to whip your pussy, Maple. Hard. It’s going to sting like a son of a bitch,” he growled. “I’m going to whip it because I can. Because you’re my property. Then I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to fuck your pussy and pull your hair and spank that pretty ass until I see my handprint in red for days.”

He paused behind her, waiting.

Maple rolled her eyes in anticipation. Then she lifted a foot.

One stamp.

The thing the movies don’t show you is how long things take after the arrest. It’s all action and glamor and back-patting when the good guys nab the bad guys.

But then there’s the investigation-- it’s ongoing. There’s collecting, evaluating, labeling, and filing the evidence. There’s interrogations, sometimes. And lawyers. So many lawyers.

Maple and J.B. weren’t done with Tony and Brie after that night. Maple had been forced to retell her story over and over. Details she’d rather forget. In front of strangers she had to describe every horrible thing Tony had done to her. Each bad word, each punishment and torture.

And she did it all with J.B. at her side.

The lawyers and F.B.I. agents listened. The recorded her and took notes and asked humiliating questions.

J.B. held her hand and never let go.

Nothing she said turned him away. Not once did he give her a wayward glance, or look at her in pity or disgust.

After every painful recollection or questioning, he whisked her away, and kissed her until she forgot everything but him. It would be years before it was over, but he made sure she knew he’d be there every second. Unwavering and strong.

His body was stretched out beside hers. No shirt on. Jeans casually low on muscle-rounded hips. Maple’s fingers lazily traced the ripples of his abs, her head resting comfortably in the nook of his shoulder.

J.B. was tense. It wasn’t obvious. You’d only be able to tell if you really knew him.

Maple really knew him.

“What are you worryin’ on?” She asked in the teasing Texan lilt they both shared, like a secret.

It took him a moment. It did, often, when J.B. had to collect his thoughts. He still didn’t talk much, so when he did, he wanted to say what he meant.

“I don’t think I want to get married again.” He said it cautiously. Like it was fragile and he didn’t want it, or her, to break.

Maple smiled and turned her cheek to kiss his chest. “That’s fine.”

“I can buy you a ring, still. I’d wear one, too, if you wanted. But--”

“You don’t have to explain. It’s not what I want, either.”

This gave him pause. “What do you want?”

“To help Raúl and Mariela become citizens. Help them get what they deserve. A chance to do whatever they want.”

“Okay,” he agreed. “It’s past time, anyway.”

Pushing herself up, Maple looked down at her handsome cowboy. Her honey brown hair cascaded on the sides of her face, falling in soft tendrils on his tanned, weathered skin. “One more thing.”

“Anything.”

“Your brand. Make me yours, completely.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

He stared at the ceiling, mulling it over. He didn’t say yes.

He didn’t say no.

Epilogue

The iron was bright orange. It was beautiful, the bold “J.B.D.” surrounded by delicate, lacy designs. It was elegant. Perfect.

It hissed as J.B. pulled it from the flames. Both of them were sweating, the fire close and blazing hot.

“You sure?”

Maple eyed the hard iron he was packing in his pants, not the one in his hand. Holy hell, had any man been so sexy? So beautiful? Each time they touched was an exploration of the dark. The deviant desires that pushed, and pushed, and pushed so far into the perverted that they came out on the other side irrevocably altered.

Their lives weren’t perfect.

But they also emerged immersed in love.

“I reckon so,” she teased, her body taut with adrenaline and anticipation.

He lowered the brand to her hip and pressed it in.

She was his forever.

Author Stuff

Thanks so much for reading my trilogy! It was a blast to write and I’m feeling sad and nostalgic (already!) now that it’s over. Maple was hard for me to write. I’ve been struggling with postpartum depression in the past year, something I know many readers will identify with. Really, any form of depression and anxiety.

This has been such a hard year. Trying to get back to writing after a baby was a much more significant challenge than I ever could have anticipated. Things I never struggled with before, like deadlines, suddenly were crushing me. Writing, too, became painful. I lost my joy in it for a while.

This story, of Bane and Maple and J.B… it’s helped me move back toward a place of joy and love. Writing dark romance isn’t new for me, but this one was painful. It felt good to unleash on the page. But Maple… man, dudes. I obviously channeled some of my own insecurities into her. By the third book, a part of my brain was also yelling.

Hasn’t she grown by now? Can’t she see she’s a good person? How much more can anyone do to prove that she’s worth it?

Those are my exact thoughts, to myself. Haven’t I grown by now? Can’t I see that I’m a good person? How much more can anyone do to prove to me that I’m worth it?

The answers are, of course, yes. I have grown a lot. Being a mom does that. Being an author does that. Being a human does it. I can see that I’m a good person. I don’t even know when I started questioning that, but that’s the damned thing about depression. It fucking sneaks in and can make a saint question themselves (I’m no saint). As for the last-- well, no. No one can do anything to prove to me that I’m worth it. Like Maple, it took me a while to figure out… that’s on me. So that’s a work in progress, but I’ve made leaps and bounds.

Thank goodness it’s 2016. Thank goodness for growth, and for love.

And for books, which give us the boyfriends, girlfriends, friends, worlds, action, adventure,
whatever it is we need
, when we need it.

If you liked my books, I encourage you to leave a review! Reviews help authors tremendously!

<3, Penny

Penny Lam grew up in North Carolina but never fully mastered the accent. Previously she wrote as Penelope L'Amoreaux-- sometimes she needs a little change. She skipped a lot of high school and went to more colleges than Sarah Palin. It took a long time to find something she loved doing enough to stick with it. When she isn't writing, she plays hide and seek with her daughter, attempts to do yoga, and drinks a lot of red wine.

Books by Penny Lam

Stabled

Tethered

Saddled

10 Rules to Catch a Billionaire

Written as Penelope L’Amoreaux

The Corrupt Trilogy Box Set

Struck Down (dark romance)