Rocky Mountain Discipline

by Lee Savino

  Her spine stiffened. Rosie May was never afraid. Then she smiled at her groom. Two could play at this game.

  With the slow, sultry movements she used on stage, Rose stepped on to a flat rock. Her fingers curled around the bottom of her chemise and teased its way up over her body, then let it drop to the rock.

  She posed naked, turning her body to its best angle, and smiling. His blue eyes burned. He stretched out his hand and repeated the gesture for her to come to him.

  Biting her lip at the cold, she picked her way across the water. Halfway to him, she slipped and almost fell. She shrieked a little, but Lyle was at her side, drawing her up as she clutched at him.

  “You all right?”

  “Yes.” She was shivering, with cold but also nervousness. “Just, please, no further.”

  “Can you swim?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then why did you come into the water?”

  “To be with you.” She pressed her bare flesh against his warmth.

  In answer, he swooped her up into his arms. She wound her arms around his neck, and he moved into the deeper water, grinning at her when the water touched her bottom and she squealed. “I won’t let you fall.”

  He lowered her into the pool and she hissed, feeling it lap against her lady parts.

  “Sore today?” he asked.

  “From what, the coupling or the whipping?”

  “Both.”

  She rolled his eyes at his proud tone, and nodded.

  “I have some balm that will help.” He raised a brow at her surprised blink. “Bad girls don’t get balm after punishment, but this morning you were so good.”

  Reaching down, she cupped some water in her hands and threw at him.

  He responded by dunking them both. As they came back up, she was shrieking, and he threw back his head and laughed. He clasped her closer and waded through the water, stopping every once and awhile to turn in a circle, lowering her enough so that her feet dipped in the shining surface. When she was finished shivering, she realized the cool water felt good against her sore bits and told Lyle so.

  He walked them both to shallow water and let her down. “Let me see, Rose.” She leaned on him and bent over for his inspection. His hands were gentle as he examined the marks on her bottom, but she still trembled under his touch.

  “You’ll heal up, good as new.” He faced her, looking smug, and let his hands drift down her back to cup her bottom lightly.

  “You seem awfully pleased with yourself, Mr. Wilder.”

  He grinned, unapologetic. “I am, Mrs. Wilder. I might mark you like that often. The sting will fade.”

  She shook her head at him. “Why don’t you just brand me like your cattle?”

  “That has merit.” He pretended to think on it, and she pretended to punch him.

  He caught her fist and kissed it, then let his tongue swipe her knuckles. She didn’t know whether to roll her eyes, laugh, or throw herself at him.

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Kiss me, Rose,” he commanded, and she pushed herself up to reach his mouth. Her arm twined around his shoulders, stroking his wet hair.

  When they broke apart, she noticed the little drops of water on the muscles of his shoulders and chest. They were so fascinating. She lowered her mouth and sucked them up.

  “Rose,” Lyle murmured.

  “Mornin’,” someone called, and Rose and Lyle’s head whipped around. There on the bank, stood Jesse, arms crossed, broad smirk on his face. With a whimper, Rose whirled, huddling against Lyle, who turned them both, angling his body to shield her naked form.

  “Move along, Jesse. We’ll be out in a moment.”

  “Damn fool,” she muttered against her husband’s chest.

  “Hey,” Lyle chided. “I’m the only one who gets to call my brother names.”

  “Is he gone?”

  “Yes.”

  Mood broken, she turned and started for the bank. “We better get dressed.”

  Lyle sighed. “My brother’s a damn fool.” Shaking his head, he followed.

  Halfway finished with dressing when Lyle came up to her. “Good news. Jesse’s riding off with the stagecoach and will meet us at the homestead later.” He grinned. “We should have a few days of privacy.”

  Rose kept on packing away her things. “Did you tell him to knock before he barges in on us?”

  Lyle chuckled. “I may have threatened him with a thrashing, but Jesse has a mind of his own. Besides,” he came to stand behind her, hands on her hips, “not many men can resist a glimpse of the lovely Rosie May.”

  “Mmmmhmmm.” She ignored his teasing. Laughing, he dropped a kiss on the back of her neck and went to shake out a bed roll. “Here, Rose, kneel on this. Hands and knees.”

  She caught her breath. Was he going to punish her again? Her body was sore, the ache in her behind and her lady parts had never felt so sensitive, even though the cold water felt good. When Lyle came back from his saddlebags, she still hadn’t moved.

  “Down on the blanket, Rose.” He pointed, all business. She couldn’t keep a forlorn look off her face. After all they’d shared, was he going to hurt her for his pleasure?

  “I still ache, Lyle,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t force her.

  He drew in a breath as he realized why she hesitated. “Hey,” he caught her hand, “I would never hurt you. You’re sore today, and the salve will help.”

  She then saw the jar of ointment in his hand, and felt relief. As she started to kneel on the blanket, Lyle tugged her to look at him again.

  “I’m going to take care of you, Rose. Will you trust me?”

  She nodded, and went down to her hands and knees. It wasn’t until he bared her bottom to gently apply the cream that the truth hit home. She did trust him. The cool salve soothed her almost as much as her new husband’s touch. His large body shifted around her, so focused on her care. She could trust him, not only in this moment, but when he led her, fought for her, even when he disciplined her.

  “All done up top,” he said. “Spread your legs.”

  Her body obeyed before she realized what was happening. Fingers touched her, feather light, between her legs, and she almost snapped her knees shut on his hand.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Shhh.” He ran his other hand over her back. “It’ll feel better.”

  Widening her stance again, she let her head sag down, tensing in anticipation. But Lyle’s fingers between her legs didn’t continue, though his other hand kept rubbing circles on her back.

  “Do you want me to stop?” he asked. “It’s a long ride, and I don’t want you in pain.”

  “No, Lyle.” She forced herself to relax. “I trust you. Don’t stop.”

  Gently, his fingers resumed smoothing the thick unguent over her lower lips.

  A moan started low in her throat and escaped her lips. Lyle’s fingers paused. “Does it hurt?”

  “No,” she whispered. “It feels good.”

  “Good.” His fingers started again, until she found herself rocking back onto his hand, trying to get more stimulation. Slick with ointment and her own juices, his fingers began to draw from her a second climax of the morning. “That’s it, darling. Reach for it. That’s my good girl.”

  A few seconds later, she stiffened and sighed as her orgasm crashed over her. Trembling with aftershocks, Rose let her torso fall to the blanket, enjoying the cool air on her haunches.

  Lyle left her to tidy up the camp, but all too soon he was back at her side.

  “This is the prettiest sight in the whole territory,” he said from behind her, and she started to scramble to cover herself.

  He helped her stand, a heated look on his handsome face. “I may rub you down every night, just to watch that again. You’re beautiful, Rose.”

  She accepted his help onto her horse, and for most of the day, she followed his lead through the hills. As the day wore on, she was grateful for the balm. The gelding was a smooth ride compar
ed with a stallion, but as the hours wore on and they went through meadows and streams, over rock and rough grass, she knew she would’ve been in agony.

  Lyle’s great black horse seemed almost bored with the slower pace, but it obeyed its master. Lyle often looked back to smile at her. Rose didn’t know which she preferred, his grin or the sight of his tall, straight back, riding proudly on the stallion, cutting a handsome figure against the barren landscape.

  Late afternoon, Lyle slowed his stallion halfway up the hill. “See that peak?” He pointed to a mountain set forward from the range. “That feeds the river that goes past our land. Once we get settled, we can pan for gold, and when we find a seam, build a mine. There’s wealth here for us, Rose, I know it.”

  His excitement caught Rose, and she gave a tentative smile. She’d never imagined she’d have a life for herself outside of bars and seedy boarding houses.

  “We’ll be home by nightfall.”

  She nodded, unable to speak as his words hit her. Home.

  “Come.” Lyle clicked for the horses to move on. “I want to show you something.”

  As they crested the hilltop, she felt a little wary of the devilish grin on her husband’s face.

  Then her mount reached the top, and she gasped at the sight. Fields of wildflowers stretched out before them, a cascade of pink blossoms everywhere she looked. The beauty brought tears to her eyes.

  “Like it?” Lyle sounded so proud, as if he’d planted them all himself and waited five years to show her.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Come.” He held out his hand to her, waiting until she walked the gelding close to his stallion. The big black whinnied in displeasure but didn’t pull away, and she and Lyle rode hand in hand through the meadow.

  Halfway through, he stopped and swung off. He came around and helped her dismount, and they walked to a stone outcropping amid the flowers. Her eyes were on the flowers, but she noticed Lyle was watching her. Stooping, he plucked a bloom.

  “A rose for my Rose,” he said.

  She felt tears shimmering in her eyes. To hide it, she pulled his head down to hers. Their kiss started sweet and grew wild, until they sank down into the clover. Lyle lay back, pulling her over him. Her hands went to his trousers.

  He rose up, shaking his head. “It’s too soon. You’ll be sore.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, Rose. There’s plenty of time.” He kissed her softly and pulled her to her feet.

  The air filled with scent of crushed blossom as they rode from the valley.

  Just before sunset, their trail dipped into a thick pine woods. Rose could hear the river nearby, and when they broke into a clearing, she saw the homestead set among the pines. In the dim light she could see the bright, new boards of the cabin and the small stable nearby. This was her new home, tucked in a dark, quiet, secret place, and she loved it at once.

  “Here we are.” Lyle grinned at her.

  They dismounted and Lyle tied the horses to the porch. After untying their packs, he pushed open the door and let Rose go into the cabin first. The place smelled of pine and freshly hewn boards.

  “My neighbor and I built it this spring, before I left to look for you.” Lye went straight to the hearth and started building a fire. Rose stood in the middle of the dark space and waited for the light so she could explore.

  A few spiders and mice had taken up residence in the corners, but would be easily swept away. The bed was a mere pallet on the floor near the hearth, though there was a table and two stools, and a lone wooden chair.

  “Watch that.” Lyle nodded to the fire. “I’ll get water and see to the horses.”

  Crouching, Rose found the old pile of kindling and fed the fire into a bigger blaze. When Lyle returned, she’d unpacked her bag, hanging her clothes over the solitary chair, and dug out the coffee pot and venison jerky from the saddlebags.

  Her husband paused in the doorway, leaning against the frame and wearing his usual devilish grin.

  “Nothing but jerky for dinner,” she said. “I found a pail, if you’ll show me where to get water...” She trailed off when she realized he hadn’t moved from the door. “What?”

  His smile widened. “Nothing. You’re just as pretty as a picture here. You already look like you belong.”

  She felt herself flush and put her back to him. She’d never been at a loss for words, and here she was, blushing like an innocent at the thought of making house with a man.

  “Hey.” Lyle came behind her and caught her around her waist. “I meant it as a compliment.”

  “I know you did,” she said, and went very still when he moved her hair to nuzzle her ear.

  “I’ll make fry cakes.” He kissed her neck and left her. Knees weak, she leaned against the table for a few moments before she could help with dinner.

  As they ate their meager meal, Lyle told her his plans for the place. “We’ll spend the next few months readying for winter. My friends, the Donovans, will help us shore up our supplies, and we’ll go into town to stock up. I’ll help Donovan pasture his cattle; in return he’ll give us enough to last through the snow. Come spring, we’ll start a garden, and get right to panning for gold. Jesse said he’d come help, but he’s not come through on that promise before. I’m glad to have you.”

  Rose stayed very quiet, her worries weighing her down.

  She cleared the plates and served his coffee. He fell silent to drink it, but kept his eyes on her.

  “What are you looking at?”

  He set down his coffee cup, blue eyes bold on hers. “You, Mrs. Wilder.”

  Again she flushed.

  He tugged her onto his lap, tucking arms around her. “I dreamed of the day I could bring you here, give you a home.”

  She felt tears closer to the surface and panicked. It had been so long since she cried, and now every time she turned around, she was choking up.

  His dark head bent so his lips could nuzzle her ear. “What do you think of the cabin?”

  “It’s perfect,” she whispered. And it was. The fire burned in the hearth, spreading a cozy glow over the small space. Even the pallet on the floor looked inviting.

  Of course, having Lyle with her made a difference. Without him, she wouldn’t feel so safe, safer than she had ever felt before.

  “I’m glad you’re here with me,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. His lips traced down her neck, muscles in his arms flexing as he shifted her weight in his lap. Feeling her body blaze to life at his touch, she let her head fall back, welcoming his kiss on her smooth, white neck.

  “You belong here,” he murmured, and she didn’t have it in her to argue.

  He tipped her back up to look in her eyes, and she took a moment to brush away the dark hair streaming over her brow.

  “Lyle.”

  She surged forward, and kissed him, drinking from his mouth as if she was thirsty and he was the only source of water.

  He lifted her, taking them both to the pallet and lying down without relinquishing her lips.

  Need rose in her and Rose felt frantic. Her fingers tore at the buttons of his shirt, longing to touch him. Needing him. Still drinking from her mouth, he helped her remove his shirt, then shuddered as she ran her nails over the firm expanse of his chest.

  “Take me, Lyle,” she said against his mouth. “I need to feel you. Make me yours.”

  With a growl, he moved so he was on top her. His weight fell into the cradle of her hips and she moaned into his mouth, arching her back so she could press against him. She was born of desire and mindless wanting, rubbing against him as if she was in heat, her body threatening to burst into flames.

  His fingers slipped between her skirts, finding her heat and stroking her.

  “Lyle, please.” Rose felt her nipples harden to aching points, her whole body tightening and centering on the delicious torment between her legs. “Come inside me,” she begged and watched the fire light catch in his eyes.

  “Not yet,” he said
hoarsely, fingers strumming her with delicious torment. “I want you ready for me.”

  She struggled then, pulling at him, trying to force his body to merge with hers. Her fingers tore at his back. But he was relentless, rearing up and catching her wrists with one hand, while pressing the palm of his other hand right against her sweet spot. His blue eyes burned.

  “Come for me, Rose. Let go.”

  His grip on her wrists was too tight, but Rose didn’t care. Her hips surged up to meet his hand, legs spread in invitation. The pressure was building inside her, threatening to shake her apart if she didn’t let go soon.

  A moan started deep in her throat.

  “That’s it.” Lyle’s voice was triumphant. “Take your pleasure, a gift from the one who owns you.”

  His arrogant words tipped her over the edge. She flew apart, mind filling with the white hot edge of pleasure as her limbs convulsed. A scream tore from her throat.

  Dazed, she looked up at him, a beautiful smirk on his perfect face. One hand went to trace his features, as if she needed reassurance that he was real. Her fingers smoothed his cheek and jaw, and then felt his lips

  He smiled against her touch, then drew one finger into his mouth and sucked on it, before kissing her fingertips.

  Rose sighed. Her whole body still quivered with aftershocks.

  “That was wonderful.”

  His grin grew bigger. “It’s not over yet.”

  She watched as he stood and stripped, baring himself in the firelight. His muscled form was lean and perfect, evidence of his arousal large and stiff between his legs.

  Her own smile spread across her face. “You want me.”

  “Very much.” He knelt again on the pallet, hands going to her skirts. Together they shed the layers from her skin, until she lay naked and waiting, her shining red hair falling around her shoulders like a cloak.

  “God, Rose.” He touched her with awe on his face. “You are lovely.”

  Her breath caught. Faced with this beautiful man in a haven, it was all too much. She turned her face away, tears suddenly streaming down her face.

  “Rose.”

  “I don’t understand what’s happening to me.” She reached for her anger, her attitude, and there was nothing left.