My Outlaw

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The excerpt or excerpts below contain explicit adult language and sexual content.
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Texas, 1880

“Are you traveling far, sir?”

Daniel Branson glanced across the dusty stagecoach to the young woman sitting across from him. He smiled at her and shook his head. “No, ma’am, I’ll be getting off at Brownsville.”

“You have family in Brownsville?”

Daniel nodded. “You could say that, ma’am.”

The woman glanced at the older gentleman who seemed to be sleeping beside her. Daniel didn’t understand how anyone could sleep through such a rough ride. Every few minutes, the stage coach hit a rut or a pothole and lurched from side to side. His ass felt like it had been dragged through a pile of cactus brush.

“Do you know any outlaws?” she whispered as she glanced over at Daniel again.

He chuckled. “I haven’t met any personally but I hear Black Bart and his gang hole up out this way.”

“Black Bart?” The woman gasped, her eyes widening. “Is he an outlaw?”

“One of the worst, ma’am.” Daniel leaned forward a little. “Why, I hear he’d just as soon shoot you as look at you.”

“And he’s in Brownsville?” the woman asked, a hand covering her mouth and her eyes growing wide.

Daniel shrugged, sitting back in the seat. “I can’t rightly say, ma’am, but I’ve heard a lot of tales about Black Bart since I entered the territory.”

Daniel glanced out the small side window as the woman’s face paled. He could tell from her manners and dress that she had never set foot west of the Mississippi River. He’d wager she was from way back east, maybe even as far as Boston.

He wished the best for her. The west could be an unforgiving place for people not prepared for the rough, harsh realities of life in the uncivilized territories. Many didn’t make it through their first winter before high tailing it back to civilization.

“You don’t think he’s around here now, do you?”

Daniel turned his attention back to the young woman. He felt a little bad that he had worried her but not enough to take back what he had said about Black Bart. Most of the people he had met on his travels west had no business being out here. He wished they would all just turn around and go back home.

The west was no longer built on dreams from the 1849 gold rush. It was made with the blood and sweat of cowboys and ranchers and settlers strong enough to fight tooth and nail for every inch of land they could dig out of the cold, hard earth.

“No, ma’am, I’m sure he’s moved on to some other area.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Brownsville isn’t a big place. It’s mostly ranchers, some townspeople, and a few outlying farms. I don’t imagine there’s a lot to keep any outlaw in the area for too long a spell.”

The woman seemed to regard Daniel for so long he began to grow uncomfortable. He tried not to fidget, clasping his hands together in his lap to keep from pulling at the collar of his white woolen shirt or the blue bandana tied around his neck.

“If there’s not much in Brownsville, why do you stay there?” the woman finally asked. Daniel could see the curiosity covering her pert little face. Underlying that was a spark of interest Daniel would rather ignore.

“I live just outside of Brownsville, ma’am,” Daniel replied. “I was point rider on a herd of cattle we drove up the Chisholm Trail to Abilene. My horse stepped in a prairie dog hole just outside of town and I had to put him down. I injured my ankle when my horse fell. Cattle boss told me to catch the stage back to the ranch.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the woman said quietly. Daniel could see the sympathy in her face, hear it in her voice. Even a woman from back east knew the heartache a cowboy felt when they lost a horse, especially a cattle cutting horse. It took years to train an animal to work cattle the way Stickler had. He’d missed that damn peg pony.

When the young woman glanced at the man beside her again then smiled over at him, Daniel’s stomach fell to his feet. He had seen that particular look on enough female faces to know that the flirting was about to begin.

Before he could dissuade her, a loud gunshot sounded outside and the stagecoach jerked to a stop. Daniel leaned out of the side window to see what was going on. His heart pounded frantically when he spotted the five masked men surrounding the stagecoach, their guns drawn.

“What is it?”

Daniel turned to see the young woman had gone as pale as Texas butter. The older man next to her still slept. Daniel held his fingers to his lips and glanced back out the window.

He grimaced as the shotgun rider tossed his rifle to the ground and climbed from his seat. The stagecoach driver followed behind him. They both immediately held their hands up in the air and moved off to one side of the stagecoach. This was not good.

“You in the wagon,” someone called out. “Step out with your hands in the air.”

“Oh my God,” the woman cried out. “What do we do?”

Daniel glanced over at her. He smiled, trying to reassure her. “Just do what they say and don’t cause any problems. You should be fine.”

Daniel reached for the door and opened it slowly. He cast a cautious look at the masked bandits as he stepped from the stagecoach. There was something about the largest of the masked men, something Daniel couldn’t quite place.

He held his hand out and helped the young woman from the stage, then waited as her companion stepped down beside her before shutting the door. Watching the armed riders carefully, he placed himself in front of the two terrified passengers.

“Keep your hands where we can see them and everything will be just fine,” one of the bandits ordered.

Daniel had no intention of doing anything else. One wrong move and he’d never make it home alive. He still might not.

“What’s your name, cowboy?”

Daniel glanced up at the biggest man in the group. His heart beat faster. His eyes widened as he took in the man’s impressive form. Damn, he was huge. Sitting astride his black horse he looked even bigger.

The black shirt, pants, boots, and cowboy hat he wore—not to mention the black mask covering his face—made his features seem more menacing. Daniel could only make out the deep, grass green eyes staring intently back at him. That powerful gaze sent a shivers of excitement blazing through him.

The man nudged Daniel’s shoulder with his horse. “You hear me, boy?”

“I heard you,” Daniel replied, mesmerized. The startling eyes seemed to be filled with an interest only a man like Daniel would understand. “My name is Daniel Branson.”

“What outfit do you ride with?”

Daniel’s lips thinned. “The Double B.”

The man raised one dark eyebrow. “The Branson ranch?”

“Yes,” he replied and all the pride he felt at being able to claim such an association sounded in his voice.

The owner of the Branson Ranch had one of the biggest cattle spreads in the area. He had built it up from just a few head of cattle into a herd numbering nearly ten thousand. Daniel had been there for most of it, working right alongside his boss.

Daniel’s family had been massacred during the war. He had drifted for a few years until finding the Double B ranch. Branson had taken him in and given him a home, taught him everything he knew. He had even given Daniel a name he could be proud of, making Daniel his heir. Daniel respected the ranch owner more than any man on earth.

          “Well, boys, seems we have a notorious man in our midst.” The large man chuckled, sending a shiver down Daniel’s spine. “One of the Double B’s own ranch hands.”

          Daniel didn’t like the way the man looked at him. Something in his powerful gaze told Daniel that his trip was about to take a detour, and the outcome would be unlike anything he had ever envisioned.

          The man crossed his arms and rested them on the pommel of his saddle as he leaned down toward Daniel. “What should I do with you? I’d be willing to bet Branson would pay a pretty penny to get one of his drovers back, now wouldn’t he?”

          Daniel gulped past the lump in his throat and shrugged. “Only Mr. Branson can answer that.”

          The man gave Daniel a low chuckle. “Why don’t we see just how much you’re worth to your boss, cowboy?”

          One of the bandits tossed a rope and Daniel grunted when it hit him in the chest. He caught it before it could hit the ground then looked up at the tall man in confusion. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

          The man smirked. “If you work for the Double B you have to be a smart man. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

          Daniel frowned. He started tying the rope into a knot then looped it over his wrists. He grabbed the other end with his teeth and pulled it tight, wincing when the rough twine bit into his skin.

          He glanced up at the man on the horse. “Happy?”

          “I’m gonna be,” the man said. With one hand he reached down and grabbed Daniel by the collar and pulled him up to lie over the top of his saddle. Daniel wiggled in protest until a large hand came down on his ass.

          “Stay still or this is gonna get a lot harder on you,” the man warned.

Daniel stilled. He felt ridiculous lying over the top of a horse, his butt in the air and the lower and upper halves of his body hanging down the sides. He probably looked ridiculous too.

          “You get to Brownsville, little lady, and you tell the sheriff there that Black Bart has one of the Double B’s ranch hands. You tell him I’ll be in contact about a ransom. You tell him that if he sends a posse after us it’ll go bad for his cowboy.”

          Before Daniel could protest again, Black Bart kicked his horse into a quick canter. Within moments they were out of sight of the stagecoach and moving off the road to a small trail cutting through the underbush.

          Daniel felt a hand move over his ass as they rode. He didn’t know whether to be intrigued by the touch or horrified. His cock certainly seemed to have no problem making up its mind. It hardened right up, causing Daniel to wince when the unforgiving leather of the saddle pressed against his aching flesh.

          With his cock pressed between the saddle and his body, and Black Bart’s hand caressing his ass, Daniel was afraid he would embarrass himself and come right there and then. And wouldn’t that put him in a pickle?

          He was being held captive by the infamous Black Bart and his gang of masked men. Daniel had no idea what plans the man had for him but none of it could be good. The horse he lay across came to a stop. Daniel tensed.

          “You all go on ahead to the rendezvous point, boys,” Black Bart ordered, his hand firmly placed on Daniel’s ass. He gave it a slight squeeze every few seconds. “I’m gonna have me a little talk with Branson’s cowboy.”

          Daniel tried to raise his head. He pushed his bound hands against the side of the horse beneath him. He kicked out with his feet. All his struggling earned him was a few more skillfully placed swats to his ass and the deep laughter of the other men as they rode off. Daniel felt like his ass was on fire.

          “Now, I thought I told you not to struggle, boy.”

          Daniel grunted. “Like I’m ever going to do anything you tell me to do.”

          Black Bart chuckled above him. “You’ll be doing everything I tell you to do, cowboy, or you’ll feel the butt of my gun upside your head.”

To prove his point, Black Bart pressed the barrel of his Colt Six-Shooter against the back of Daniel’s head. Daniel stopped resisting.

          “Do you think I can at least sit up?” Daniel asked. “I’m going to get sick bouncing along like this.”

          Daniel yelped when Black Bart grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him upright. Within seconds, he was sitting astride the horse.

“Better?” Black Bart asked.

          Daniel wasn’t sure. The press of Black Bart’s muscular body against his back made him feel small, while the strong arms encircling his waist made him feel safe and protected.

The hard cock pushing against his ass made him feel aroused.

          Black Bart suddenly grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. Daniel stared up into the dark green eyes of the man holding him hostage. His captor’s searing gaze made Daniel’s cock throb.

          “I believe I asked you a question, cowboy.” Black Bart snarled. “I want an answer.”

          Daniel tried to nod but that only increased the tension on the grip Black Bart still had on his hair. He winced. “Yeah, that’s better.”

          The big man grunted and let go. Daniel hunched back a bit to avoid the hands that reached around him to grab the reins. He bit his lip to keep from groaning as Black Bart got the horse moving. With each step of the horse, the hard cock behind him rubbed against his ass.

          Daniel knew he wasn’t supposed to be aroused. He was supposed to be resisting, fighting back, or at the very least, trying to escape.

          But no, all he really wanted to do was feel that hard cock against his naked skin. Hell, he wanted to feel all of Black Bart against his naked skin, preferably with the other man just as naked. Daniel groaned. He was in so much trouble.

          He tried to ignore the man holding him as they rode. He tried even harder to ignore his aching cock. Both seemed nearly impossible, especially when Black Bart grabbed the reins in one hand and settled the other on Daniel’s abdomen.

          “I think you like being held captive,” Black Bart whispered into Daniel’s ear. “I think you like being tied up and played with.”

Daniel shivered at the feel of warm breath blowing across his neck. His eyes closed as he tried to concentrate on the sounds around him, the feel of the horse beneath him, anything to drown out the feel of Black Bart’s hand drawing small circles on his body.

          When Black Bart separated the edges of his shirt and pushed his hand inside to caress naked flesh, Daniel knew fighting his arousal was a lost cause. His entire world narrowed down to focus on the strong, callused hand moving closer to his hard cock.

          Daniel ached. He cried out when that hand finally touched his cock. His body bucked, arching toward the hand grasping him. His movements were met by a low, deep chuckle from the man torturing him.

Daniel’s face burned with embarrassment. He pushed his body back. His shoulders hunched as he tried to avoid Black Bart, but the man didn’t seem to notice as he continued his exploration of Daniel’s body.

He wrapped the reins around the saddle horn then grabbed Daniel’s bound hands and brought them over his neck. Daniel was effectively trapped, his body laid open to whatever Black Bart wanted to do to him.

Part of Daniel was thrilled. He could respond without hesitation, enjoy the feeling of the man’s hands on his body. He was tied up, unable to resist or protest. Another part of him was mortified that he was responding to his captor, but not enough to stop Black Bart from pulling at the buttons of his pants.

Daniel’s head fell back against the wide shoulder behind him when Black Bart pushed his hand deep into his pants, grasping his hard cock. The pressure was unbelievable—strong enough to let Daniel know Black Bart’s hand was there, but light enough to keep him on the edge of orgasm. It was pure torture.

Daniel clenched and unclenched his hands in Black Bart’s jet black hair. His mouth dropped open as nearly silent whimpers broke free. The man had one hand on Daniel’s chest, gently pinching and tugging at his nipples. The other hand stroked Daniel’s cock.

When Black Bart’s lips latched on to Daniel’s neck, he couldn’t keep his cries to himself any longer. His head fell to one side, baring his throat to Black Bart’s questing lips. His body hummed with arousal.

“Please.” Daniel pleaded, not really sure what he was begging for but knowing he needed something more.

“Please what, cowboy?”

Daniel shook his head. He bit his lip. He couldn’t say it. If he did, that would make it real. His admission would mean he wanted the things this man did to him, the things Black Bart made him feel.

The touching suddenly stopped. Daniel groaned in protest. He was so very close. He pushed his hips toward the hand holding his cock but it fell away, taking with it the hot feeling of pleasure that had been racing through his body.

“Please, I . . . I . . . .” Daniel moaned.

“Tell me what you want, cowboy, and I’ll give it to you,” Black Bart whispered into Daniel’s ear. “I won’t touch you unless you tell me what you want.”

Daniel groaned. He couldn’t tell Black Bart what he wanted. He just couldn’t. But he didn’t know if he could live without the ecstasy of Black Bart’s touch another second. He just might die without it.

Black Bart’s tongue against the shell of his ear decided Daniel’s course. He cried out, arching his body as he gave into the feelings the outlaw provoked in him.

“Touch me,” Daniel begged, “Oh God, please touch me.”

Black Bart instantly answered Daniel’s plea. He wrapped his hand around Daniel’s cock and stroked him. With his other hand he caressed Daniel’s chest, moving back and forth between his nipples to play with them both. The outlaw’s lips moved from Daniel’s ear to his neck, licking a path around to the edge of his jaw and onto his lips.

Daniel’s body throbbed. When Black Bart’s mouth covered his, all the air in his lungs escaped, leaving him breathless and wanting. Black Bart’s tongue brushing against his sent Daniel into a tailspin of desire.

He dug his fingers into the hard, corded muscles of Black Bart’s neck as the pressure building in his balls exploded out the top of his cock. His groan of completion shattered the silence as he covered Black Bart’s hand with white pearly seed.

“That’s it, cowboy,” Black Bart murmured against Daniel’s lips. “Give it all to me.”

Daniel’s only response was the deep groan that built up in his throat and roared free as Black Bart continued to stroke him through his orgasm and beyond. His body bucked, his cock sensitive to every touch.

And still Black Bart didn’t stop. He kept stroking Daniel’s cock with one hand, playing with his nipples with the other. Before long, Daniel had worked his way through one orgasm and was well on his way to another.

“You know I’m going to fuck you, don’t you, cowboy?”

Daniel recognized the words were more of a statement than a question. He knew . . . and he feared he might even beg for it. And that thought scared him more than having a gun held to his head.

Black Bart brought the horse to a stop and climbed down. Daniel absently noted the mask on the outlaw’s face, covering him from view. He had yet to see his features, except for those arresting green eyes.

When the outlaw reached for him, Daniel’s fear took over. He kicked out at Black Bart with one foot and at the horse’s flanks with the other. The horse took off like a bullet.

Daniel tried to grab the reins with his bound hands. He’d caught the edge of the soft leather when a loud whistle split the air. The horse came to such an abrupt stop that Daniel almost fell from the saddle.

He dug his heels into the horse’s flanks, but the animal refused to budge. Frantic, hearing Black Bart coming up behind him, Daniel kicked free of the saddle and slid off the horse. The moment his feet hit the ground he took off running.

He ran as fast and as far as he could until a massive force tackled him from behind. Daniel grunted when he hit the ground, his body screaming in protest. He clawed at the dirt beneath him as he tried to crawl away.

He put everything he had into getting himself free, but nothing worked. Black Bart was just too big, too strong. He effortlessly lifted Daniel in his arms and tossed him over his shoulder. He beat at Black Bart’s back with his bound hands. He kicked with his feet. Satisfaction filled him when he heard the outlaw grunt.

“Alright, that’s enough of that shit,” Black Bart growled. “Keep it up and you’re going to feel the flat of my hand against your backside, cowboy.”

Considering his circumstances, Daniel should have heeded Black Bart’s warning. Something told him he’d regret it if he didn’t. But at the moment, resisting the man who held him, and not the consequences of his actions, was uppermost in his mind. Daniel continued to beat at Black Bart until his captor suddenly swung him around and dropped him on the ground.

Daniel cried out as he landed. He turned over onto his back to glare up at the outlaw. What he saw made his eyes widen and his heart beat faster. Black Bart stood over him, hands on his waist, eyes blazing with fury.

“I warned you, cowboy,” he said as he reached for Daniel. “Now you’re going to find out just why they call me Black Bart.”

Daniel yelped as the outlaw flipped him over onto his stomach then lifted him into the air. Black Bart effortlessly laid Daniel’s body over his legs then yanked his pants down, baring his ass.

“What the fu—Shit!” Daniel yelled when he felt Black Bart’s hand land on his ass. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Teaching you some manners,” Black Bart said as he swatted at Daniel’s ass again. “Branson should have taught you better. Seems he was remiss in your education, cowboy.”

“No one has the right to talk about Branson that way!” Daniel shouted as he  renewed his struggles, trying to push himself away.

          “Whoa, cowboy,” Black Bart admonished as he held Daniel down.

          “You can’t talk about Branson like that,” Daniel shouted. “You’re not fit to lick his boots.”

          Black Bart suddenly flipped him over and stared down at him in what Daniel could only assume was amusement. He gulped past the lump that had suddenly taken hold in his throat.

          “And what are you going to do to stop me?” Black Bart challenged. He emphasized the situation by lifting Daniel up by his arms and settling him between his legs. Daniel was trapped. “Maybe I should have me a little talk with Branson, find out what’s so special about him.”

          He shook his head frantically. “No,” he whispered.

          “What will you do to stop me?”

          “Anything.”

          Daniel could see the intensity in Black Bart’s gaze. He felt it all of the way down to his toes. He knew what was coming even before the outlaw opened his mouth. It was a price he was more than willing to pay.

          “Give me what I want, no protests, and I’ll leave Branson alone.”

          Daniel nodded, resigned to the situation he was in. “I’ll do anything to keep Branson safe, even if it means submitting to an outlaw like you.” Daniel had to admit that the idea of submitting to Black Bart thrilled him just a little. The man was devastatingly handsome.

          Black Bart pushed Daniel up to stand. He untied the rope from around Daniel’s wrists then waved a hand at him. “Take your clothes off,” he ordered before sitting back to watch.

          Daniel’s fingers shook as he slid his shirt off and dropped it on the ground. He kept his eyes on the scenery beyond Black Bart’s shoulders. Even still, he could feel the man’s eyes devouring him as he reached for his pants.

          He had to stop for a moment and kick his boots free before sliding his pants off his legs. Once he was naked, Daniel took a deep breath and stood up straight. The slight gasp he heard had him looking at Black Bart in surprise.

          Black Bart’s gaze roamed over him. He felt like he was being eaten alive, and he shivered. He just wasn’t sure if he shivered in delight or trepidation. He started to move his hands to cover his most vulnerable parts when Black Bart clicked his tongue and shook his head.

          “My, my, my, Branson has been keeping secrets, hasn’t he?” Black Bart smirked. “If you’re as good as you look I’d be willing to bet you’re worth more than all of his cattle put together.”

          Daniel couldn’t help but be aroused by the outlaw’s comments, and not because his boss might be willing to ransom him. Knowing that the big man was attracted to him was something Daniel found hard to ignore.

          “Come here,” Black Bart directed, pointing to the ground between his legs.

Daniel hesitated for a moment, just long enough to get a dark eyebrow raised at him, before stepping forward to stand closer to Black Bart.

          The outlaw touched him. The contact of rough callused hands against his body brought a soft gasp from Daniel. His heart beat frantically, his blood pounded in his ears. Black Bart’s palms felt hot against Daniel’s skin. Burning hot.

          “I’m gonna have so much fun with you, cowboy,” Black Bart murmured. “You’re going to forget you ever heard the name Branson.”

          Daniel shook his head. “No one could make me forget Branson,” he insisted, but his voice shook with desire.

Daniel’s hands trembled as he settled them on Black Bart’s shoulders, afraid his knees would give out at any moment. Black Bart caressed him, touched him, made his body ache with need. He longed to feel the man’s hands on him. He yearned to feel Black Bart’s cock pound into his ass.

          “Do you think about Branson, cowboy?” Black Bart whispered against Daniel’s stomach. “Do you fantasize about him when you jerk off?”

          Daniel nodded before he could even give the thought purpose. His mind was too wound up in the sensations Black Bart created against his skin.

          “Do you dream about Branson fucking your tight little ass?”

          Daniel nodded again then yelped when Black Bart swatted him. He looked up in surprise.

          “Well, too bad,” Black Bart growled as he turned Daniel around and pushed him down to his hands and knees. “I’m the only one who’s going to be fucking this ass today, cowboy, and I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t be thinking of anyone but me for weeks.”

          Daniel froze in shock. Maybe agreeing to submit to Black Bart might not have been his wisest decision. He couldn’t keep himself from jerking when Black Bart’s hands settled on his hips.

          He shuddered as Black Bart leaned into him and rough material brushed his ass. The hardness in the man’s pants waited to be unleashed; the thin cloth the only thing separating them.

          Daniel cried out when spit-lubed fingers pressed against his sensitive opening, then pushed inside his hole. His eyes drifted closed as sensation took over his body. Once again, his entire world narrowed down to what Black Bart was doing to him.

          Daniel couldn’t keep himself from pushing back against the fingers invading his passage. It felt too good. The outlaw obviously knew exactly what he was doing, and he was doing it to Daniel very well.

          Daniel whimpered when Black Bart pulled his fingers free. He wiggled his ass, silently begging for more of the man’s touch. He heard rustling behind him then the blunt head of Black Bart’s cock pressed against him.

          Strong hands grabbed Daniel’s hips and gradually impaled him on that hard cock. Daniel groaned at the slowness of the entry. He wanted to be taken, to have that cock pound into him. He pushed back, trying to drive Black Bart into his ass faster, but the man was having none of that.

          “My cock, my pace.” Black Bart swatted Daniel on the ass then grabbed his hip again, still moving slowly. Daniel whimpered and let the outlaw have his way—not that he had much choice in the matter. He just prayed that if he had to submit to the man, at least he would get something out of it.

          “Please,” Daniel begged.

          Black Bart stroked his hand over Daniel’s ass cheek. “I love it when you beg, cowboy. It makes me hot.”

          Daniel whimpered again. If Black Bart wanted him to beg, if that was what it took to get that hard cock to pound his ass quicker, he’d beg until he was blue in the face. “Please, more, harder,” he pleaded.

          His plea was answered as Black Bart thrust in the last few inches, impaling Daniel so hard and so deep his breath caught in his throat. He felt so full. Black Bart’s cock filled every inch of him, rubbing against his sweet spot with every movement.

          The outlaw could be right. After this, he might not think about anyone else for weeks. If this got any better, Daniel would be begging for more. He might even demand it of the big man.

          “Fuck, you’re so tight,” Black Bart groaned. “It’s been a while since anyone’s fucked you, hasn’t it?”

          Daniel nodded. Hell yeah, it had been a while. A long while. He hadn’t had someone fuck him since before he had left on the cattle drive, and that had been a little over two months ago. He’d missed the feeling of a hard cock in his ass.

          “That’s good to know,” Black Bart murmured as he started thrusting in and out. “I’d hate to think of anyone enjoying this ass but me.”

          Daniel bit his lip and shook his head. He was beyond speech at this point. He knew if he opened his mouth he would beg Black Bart to fuck him harder, to take him again and again until he never even thought about another man.

          Black Bart’s hands dug into Daniel’s hips. The sting of pain combined with the pleasure radiating out of his body propelled Daniel to the edge of orgasm so quickly he nearly passed out. He couldn’t remember ever being fucked like this, with so much intensity, so much power. It made his toes curl and his mind reel.

          Daniel wanted more. He wanted it all. Reaching beneath his body, he grabbed his cock and quickly stroked himself to the rhythm of Black Bart’s thrusts. His breath quickened. His mouth dropped open as the groans he had been trying to hold back broke free.

          “Harder!” Daniel demanded. “Fuck me harder, you big bastard.”

          Black Bart grunted, but the power of his thrusts increased until Daniel had to dig his hand into the ground beneath him to keep from being pushed forward. He was overwhelmed. Sensation enveloped his entire body.

          The tingle at the base of his spine shot through him before settling in his balls. He could feel his sac draw up tight against his body as he started to climax. Black Bart continued to pound Daniel’s sweet spot, driving him out of his mind.

          The massive cock in his ass thickened even as Black Bart roared out his release. The feeling of Black Bart’s hot seed filling him was all it took to send Daniel over the edge.

          “Bartholomew!” Daniel screamed as everything came together in one mind-blowing explosion and he followed Black Bart into ecstasy. Seed spurted from Daniel’s cock, covering his hand and the ground beneath him.

          Daniel’s breath left his body. His hand dropped from his shaft. Before he could fall to the ground, strong hands caught him and slowly lowered him. A large body lay down beside him. Muscular arms cradled him close.

          Daniel laid his head on Black Bart’s chest and listened to the rhythm of the man’s breathing, the soft thud of his heart. He flattened his palm on the outlaw’s chest and gently ran his fingers through the smattering of chest hair there.

          He felt peaceful, satisfied in a way he hadn’t felt in a very long time. He never wanted to leave the comfort of the arms holding him close.

          “When did you know it was me?”

          Daniel tilted his head back to look up into the powerful grass-green eyes gazing back at him. He smiled and pulled the mask down. He stroked his fingers along the side of the man’s face.

          “Since you asked me my name back at the stagecoach.”

          “I had my face covered. How did you know it was me?”

          Daniel laughed. “I’ve heard you call me cowboy enough times to recognize your voice, and it’s not like this isn’t one of your favorite games. Besides, no one has eyes like yours or looks at me the way you do, Bartholomew Branson.”

          Bartholomew grunted, a pleased smile crossing his lips. “No one better be looking at you the way I do, or they’re going to be looking down the barrel of my gun.”

          Daniel leaned up on his elbow to glare down at his lover. “Just what in the hell were you thinking, holding a loaded gun to my head? Did you lose your mind while I was on that cattle drive?”

          Bartholomew smirked. “It wasn’t loaded, cowboy. Do you really think I would take any chances with my life?”

          “You mean my life,” Daniel corrected him.

          Bartholomew shook his head, his face serious. “No, I mean my life. If anything happened to you, Daniel, I wouldn’t have a life. There wouldn’t be any reason for me to continue living. I’d just whither up and die.”

          “I love you, too, Black Bart.”

          “You’d better, cowboy.” Bartholomew laughed. “You’re gonna have to get my ass out of hot water when we get into town. The sheriff may be my brother, but he’s still gonna to be pissed when he learns I held up the stage.”

          Daniel burst out laughing. “He’s going to be more than pissed. He may lock your ass up this time. You remember that woman who was on the stage with me? Just before you stopped us, I had been telling her about the dangerous outlaw, Black Bart.”

          Bartholomew rolled his eyes. “Now why in the hell did you have to go and do that? My brother is sure to want a piece of me before he gets done. He’s already warned us once to stop playing outlaw and captive. He’s still mad at us for the last time.”

          Daniel shrugged as he reached for his clothes. “Maybe you should have waited until I got home before kidnapping me then.”

          “I haven’t seen you in two months, Daniel. I couldn’t wait any longer. When one of the boys rode in and told me that he had spotted the stagecoach, well, I just had to come get you. I rounded up a few of the new boys—ones I figured you wouldn’t recognize—and just rode out.”

          “If you can’t stand being away from me, stop sending me on cattle drives, boss man.”

          “Someone has to do it, Daniel, and I don’t trust anyone else like I trust you. Besides, the ranch is half yours. One of us has to go on the drives.”

          “I don’t care. Find someone else. I’ve done my time on the trail, even got injured and lost my damn horse. Make someone else go. Hell, we did good enough at the cattle market, we can hire someone.”

          Bartholomew looked at Daniel. “Yeah, I was sorry to hear about Stickler. He was a good horse. But I’m damn glad you’re okay. Just about tore the telegraph office apart when I heard you had been hurt.”

          Daniel nodded. The thought of his lost horse still saddened him and probably would for a while. A cowboy built a bond with a cattle cutting horse that not many people understood unless they worked with cattle as much as a rancher did.

          “We’ll get you another horse, Daniel.” Bartholomew patted his shoulder. “I may even have the perfect one in mind. I’ve kind of been keeping it a secret from you, wanted it to be a surprise, but Stickler got to one of the mares. She dropped her foal while you were gone.”

          “Stickler mated?” Daniel whispered.

          Bartholomew nodded, a wide smile crossing his lips. “Little feller’s not much to look at yet but I think he has a lot of potential. Real cute too; looks just like his sire.”

          Tears prickled the corners of Daniel’s eyes. He turned his head away to wipe them off his face before they fell, not wanting his lover to see him cry. Bartholomew grabbed his chin and forced him to look back.

          “Don’t hide from me, Daniel,” he whispered. “Not even your sadness. I need everything you have to give me.”

          Daniel closed his eyes and leaned in to his lover, resting his head against the man’s broad shoulders. Bartholomew stroked the back of his head and wrapped the other hand around his waist, pulling him close.

          “You’re my world, Daniel Branson, don’t you ever forget that. I could lose it all, the cattle, the ranch, everything, but if I lost you—”

          “You’re not going to lose me, Black Bart,” Daniel whispered back. He tilted his head to look into those exquisite green eyes. “You stole my heart and became my outlaw.”

~ The End ~