Rocky Mountain Discipline

by Lee Savino

  Rose put her hand on Lyle’s arm. “Can we plant flowers at the…for Mary?”

  “‘Course, darlin’.” Lyle took her hand and squeezed it.

  “Thank you,” she mouthed to him, and leaned in for a kiss.

  Jesse cleared his throat until they broke apart. “Good fish, isn’t it? Tons of trout in that stream. Just jumpin’ onto the line.”

  “They cooked up pretty good with the biscuits Rose made.” Lyle turned tender eyes to his wife.

  Jesse sighed. “I guess you tamed your redhead,” he muttered, plucking another biscuit from the pile.

  “When are you getting married, Jesse?” Rose asked with a wicked smile. “I’m sure you’ve left a trail of broken hearts from here to Missouri. Are you going to pick one, and make her the happiest woman in the world?” Her tone dripped sarcasm.

  “Thought you didn’t believe in love,” Jesse said.

  “I didn’t. But I gave it a try and it grew on me.” She smiled at her husband, then turned sharp eyes back to Jesse. “What do you think, Lyle? I think a wife would be just the thing to tame your brother.”

  “Certainly would stop him from running all over the territory.” Lyle put his arm around Rose and faced Jesse, who was rapidly losing his easy nature. “She wouldn’t tolerate it.”

  “Perhaps we should write East for one, just like Miles did for Carrie.”

  “Naw,” Lyle said. “He needs a wild one to keep him interested, one who will threaten to shoot him if he strays.”

  “I agree.” Rose leaned forward. “Give me a month; I bet I can find such a lady.”

  Jesse stood so quickly he knocked over his stool. “I’ll just be turning in.”

  “So soon?” Lyle asked, all innocence, but his brother had already disappeared out the door.

  The couple put their heads together and laughed.

  “Guess that’s one way to get privacy,” Rose chortled, clearing the plates. The afternoon of rest and the meal had put color to her cheeks; she truly felt better. Once the table was cleared, she started for her broom, but Lyle caught her around the waist, pulling her to the bed. She squealed and tried to get away, but he scooped her up in his arms, bringing her to their new four-poster and dropping her on the cloud-like mattress.

  “It’s been a long day, wife. And now I want to play.”

  Wriggling away from him, she stood up suddenly on the bed. “You know, it’s quite hot in here,” she said.

  He prowled around the bed, a great, dark haired beast sighting its prey, but she wouldn’t be shaken. Instead, she put a hand to her forehead dramatically.

  “It’s so hot, I seem to be wearing far too many clothes. What do you think, Mr. Wilder?”

  He nodded, a playful gleam in his eyes.

  “Why don’t you sit right there.” She pointed at the chair. “While I get ready for bed?” She waited until he settled, then stepped down in front of him, turning her back to hide the smile curving her lips. Her husband was going to get the show of a lifetime.

  “First my apron.” Sweeping her hair out of her way, she put her hands behind her and worked the bow, sticking out her backside a little. “Now these skirts. Working all day too, don’t want to get the bed dirty.” She loosened them. Her hips swayed a little as she wriggled out of them. Turning her head, she saw her husband watching with heated gaze. Her nipples sharpened to points, breathing harder. “Next the petticoats.” Her voice was low and throaty. She moved to imagined music and lifted her corset cover over her head. Raising her arms, she pivoted slowly so he could see her form in corset, chemise and drawers.

  Slowly, she undid her stays, rolling her shoulders forward to ease off her corset. She kept her eyes on his face, watching the hunger grow. He pressed the palm of his hand against himself, watching her form be revealed. She drew her chemise over her head and dropped it, letting the firelight mold and cup her upper body. Her breasts thrust out, she strutted in front of him, posing and shaking out her hair. Her fingers went to her nipples and caressed them, stroking them before skating down to her hips.

  “Oh no,” she mock gasped. “My drawers seem to be stuck. Will you help me, husband?”

  As she drew closer to him, she knew she was playing with fire. Rough hands jerked the string of her drawers, almost ripping them down her milky thighs. He bent down to help take them off, stopping when his face was at the level of the red thatch between her legs. She saw his neck crane to inhale her scent.

  “No, no,” she said, taking a handful of his hair and using it to draw his head up. “I’m not finished yet.” Stepping back, she put her foot on his leg. “Take off my shoes.”

  His blue eyes bored holes in her skin as he removed one shoe. Before he could draw off her stockings, she switched feet, grinding her foot down on his thigh. “Be good,” she warned him.

  He took off her shoe and she backed away, lifting herself onto the bed and stretching out her legs. “Now my stockings.”

  Slowly, he came to stand between her legs. Eyes on hers, he pulled off one stocking, then the other. He kneaded her feet a little, and then, her legs.

  Tables turned. He was fully dressed and she was naked, a sacrifice before him.

  “Did you like that?”

  She nodded. Her foot nudged dangerously close to the bulge between his thighs. “So did you.”

  “You forget something, Rose.” He leaned over her, eyes flashing dangerously. “I’m in charge here.”

  Tipping her head back, she nodded.

  “Lie back on the bed.” He stripped off his shirt and trousers, dropping them to the floor. She caught her breath at the sight of him naked, his large cock jutting out from his body like a spear. He prowled to her side, and traced a light finger down her naked chest. “You like to play?”

  “Lyle.” She started to rise and his hand shot out, closing around her neck. His grip was loose, but the warmth at her vulnerable throat served as a warning.

  “You like making men serve you?”

  Her heart pounded so hard, she felt it might burst from her chest. Lyle, her beautiful angel, loomed over her, his face masked in shadow. She felt naked, exposed at the mercy of his grip and gaze. Yet she’d never felt more safe.

  “Like having men fawn over you, at your beck and call?”

  She nodded, chin knocking against his hand.

  Lyle knelt on the bed, large form casting a shadow over her pale body. “You think I’m one of those men?”

  She shook her head.

  “Good girl.” He almost smiled at her honesty. Planting a hand beside her head, he lowered himself so they were face to face. “I think you need a reminder who owns this body.” His hand flattened on her chest and he drew it down, sending flames rushing through her.

  Gripping her chin again, he turned her face to the side. She squeaked, not in fright, but in surprise as arousal poured through her. Her body was his to dominate, his to control. There was freedom in letting him take over.

  His tongue traced her ear, then stabbed into it.

  “Lyle,” she whimpered.

  “Quiet.” His hand tightened and her body went crazy, desire pooling between her legs. “I’m gonna taste every inch of you.” His lips caressed her ear. “This body belongs to me now. I want to see what it can do.”

  His teeth nipped her earlobe before his mouth moved downward, sucking at the sensitive skin of her neck.

  She sighed. His lips traced the curve of her shoulders and she felt her thoughts go lazy as desire rippled through her.

  Lyle went to kneel at the foot of the bed, where he lifted her leg. Slowly, eyes on hers, he kissed the inside of her ankle, his stubble tickling her. Her foot jerked in his hand.

  “Be still,” he ordered. “Or I’ll tie you down.”

  His lips and teeth nibbled at her ankles, even as his hand stroked up her calf, kneading the aches of the day out of her.

  He planted kisses up the inside of her calf, stopping at her knee to tease the skin with his tongue.

  Rose moaned.r />
  “No, please, Lyle.”

  “Quiet, or I’ll gag you.”

  She locked in her whimpers as best she could.

  He bit the inside of her thighs lightly, and her hips jerked.

  “That’s it,” he growled, and before she knew it, he had pulled out the leather ties he seemed to always carry, and secured her ankle to the bedpost. Then the other, and she started to push up, so he caught her wrists also.

  Rose found herself naked and spread eagled, a blue eyed angel looming over her with a wicked smile on his handsome face.

  “Lyle,” she started to protest, and he stuffed a handkerchief in her mouth.

  “Perfect,” he pronounced.

  Gagged and trussed, Rose struggled for a second, eyes wide with panic.

  Lyle put his hand on her chest. “You all right?”

  Breathing in through her nose, she calmed and nodded. She’d never felt more vulnerable, or more aroused. She’d do anything for this man.

  He tugged at the handkerchief. “You want this out?”

  She shook her head.

  “My brave girl.” His thumb feathered over her lips. “You get scared, you shout and I’ll stop. Understand?”

  Again she nodded assent.

  “Trust me, darlin’.” He bent his head to kiss her lips. “This will feel good.”

  As his mouth started the slow trek, nibbling down her neck, chest, and between her breasts, Rose closed her eyes and wondered if she was in heaven. Even his stubble scraping her soft skin sent tiny flashes of lightning straight to her pussy. His tongue swirled around her belly button, and she raised her hips as far as she could, begging him to go lower.

  “Not so fast.” He kissed her belly, and returned to her breasts. He spent an age playing there, laving her nipples with his tongue, kissing her breasts, nuzzling the soft orbs.

  Rose was moaning behind her gag when he came up to suck on her neck again.

  “You want me to kiss you, Rose?”

  She nodded, begging with her eyes.

  “You gonna tell me you belong to me?”

  Attitude flashed in her eyes before she could stop it.

  He chuckled. “I didn’t think so.” His lips resumed their work, feathering up and down her body. He even pressed a kiss to her bound wrist.

  “I like you like this. Tied up, I can do whatever I want to you.”

  He stood up and walked away, returning with the honey pot.

  “Time for dessert.” He lifted the spoon and drizzled honey into the valley between her breasts. Rose arched her back and cried out as he lapped the sweetness off her skin. With a wicked grin, Lyle anointed her nipple with honey and flicked his tongue against it.

  Her whole body writhed, and he gripped her hips to still her. Her lady parts throbbed harder, responding to his dominance.

  “I wonder how this will taste.” He took the honey and let it pour over her lady parts.

  She shook her head frantically as he bent his head to her. His tongue was relentless, probing every crevice, licking up every bit of honey and cream until she rose off the bed with a muffled shout. Her orgasm crashed over her, so hard her eyes rolled back into her head.

  “So sweet.” He sat up, licking his lips. “You want a taste?” His fingers hesitated, hovering over the gag before drifting away. “Maybe later, if you’re good.”

  Rose moaned behind her gag, begging him to release her, to stop the torture.

  “You gonna be my good girl, Rose? You gonna obey me? One hand stroked up her belly while the other one fiddled at her breast, both driving her mad.

  She agreed with frantic nods.

  “You’ll do what I say, when I say it?”

  Yes, Lyle, she told him with her eyes and frantic nods. Anything.

  “I don’t believe you,” he growled, and bent his head again. He licked her into a frenzy, but just when she was about to reach the pinnacle, his mouth pulled away.

  The gag muffled her cries, but her eyes communicated eloquently, bright with unshed tears.

  Lyle pulled out the gag.

  “Please, Lyle, I’ll do it. Whatever you say.”

  “Say I own you.”

  “You own me, Lyle. Every inch. You know you do.”

  With a satisfied smile, he reached over and undid her bonds. “Put your arms around me. I want to feel you.”

  She wrapped her limbs around him as he sank into her.

  The moment was so perfect, tears came to her eyes.

  “My beautiful, beautiful Rose,” he whispered, seeing her overcome.

  Smiling through her tears, she bucked her hips into his, encouraging him. She didn’t want him to see how much it hurt, this perfection that she’d never tasted before, that she feared she’d never taste again.

  “Has it been like this with any other?” Rose asked. She’d dozed off on his chest, only for him to waken her with a kiss and make sweet love to her again. Now, body sated, she traced patterns on the muscles of his chest as he stroked her hair.

  “I can’t compare a flower to a star.” He rolled onto his side and she did the same, facing the other way so he could mold his body to her back. His lips touched her shoulder. “You’re all fire and burning heat. I thought you would never stop attacking me, it only made me want you more.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be, darlin’. I like the challenge. You fight as easy as breathing, but I’d rather have you coming at me than running away.”

  She sighed, her heart heavy over all the trouble she caused.

  “I mean it, Rose.” He leaned over her to look at her face. “Don’t stop coming at me. I’m not leaving; you cannot drive me away.”

  “All right,” she whispered.

  He settled behind her again.

  “Remember that you said that the next time I throw a chamber pot at you,” she said, and he laughed.

  “Fight me all you want, Rose. I’ll be here long after all your weapons are spent. I found beauty, and I’m not giving it up.”

  Sitting up, he blew out the candle then cocooned her in his arms.

  In the darkness, Rose bit her lip. He’d had that beauty with someone else. What if she could never give him the life he deserved?

  The next day, there was a chill in the air. Fall was upon them, and winter would soon follow. Rose felt a lump in her throat; cold weather always heralded hard times in her life.

  Lyle was chopping wood, and Rose came out to help stack some on the porch. The sound of horses had her look up, confused at first, then wondering if the Donovans were visiting.

  The first rough looking man broke through the trees, and Rose turned to stone.

  “Get in the cabin. Bolt the door,” Lyle ordered as the one man became two, and the two became three, grim faced and riding straight for them. “Go!”

  Picking up her skirts, she fled, but paused on the porch. The three men rode up to her husband, guns in hand.

  “Lyle Wilder?” One asked. “We’ve come for Rose.”

  Her heart stopped beating as they surrounded him.

  “You can’t have her.” Lyle didn’t look the least bit afraid.

  “That’s not what Doyle says.” One smirked, and Lyle hefted the ax in his hands.

  “Stop.” Rose’s voice rang out over the clearing. She stepped off the porch and walked towards the men. “I’m here.”

  “Rose, no,” Lyle called. “Get back in the cabin.”

  “Come on over, pretty lady,” the leader said. The three thugs watched her with hungry eyes. “Doyle says you owe him a debt.”

  “If I go with you, will you leave him alone?” Her eyes were burning, but she wouldn’t cry now. The old mask over Rosie May settled over her features as she bargained for her husband’s life.

  One man cocked his head, pretending to think it over.

  “You’re not going to do that, Rose.” Lyle glared at her.

  “Lyle, please. I can’t lose you, too.” She faced the man, coming near enough to see his teeth stained with to
bacco. “Do I have your word you won’t hurt him?”

  “If you come quiet like and don’t give no trouble.”

  “Rose—” Lyle started, but she quickly spoke up.

  “I promise. I’ll go with you.”

  One man moved his horse to her, and slid off. The other two kept their guns trained on Lyle, who was tense as a caged bear.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “I’m sorry.” The tears started now, but she ignored them. They didn’t matter. Nothing did. “I can’t be a good wife to you. I tried, but it can never be.”

  The ax almost slipped from Lyle’s hand as he stared at her, stunned.

  One of the two men cackled. “Seems Rosie May isn’t cut out for homesteading. Find yourself a good church woman; we’ll take the harlot back where she belongs.”

  The leader had Rose up on the horse in front of him.

  “Rose.” Lyle started for her, ignoring the guns on him, and the thug leader pressed a gun to Rose’s temple.

  “Stay where you are, pretty boy.” With a nod to his two men, he turned his horse and thundered off. Rose clung to the pillion, feeling the thug’s fetid breath on the back of her neck.

  “Smart girl,” the man murmured.

  Rose couldn’t help herself looking back one last time. Lyle hadn’t moved, staring after her as if his world was falling apart and he was helpless to stop it. As a sob shook her, she watched one of the thugs raise his weapon and aim it.

  “No,” she shrieked, but her captor caught her around the neck, gripping her until she thought she might pass out.

  A shot rang out behind her, and she heard a horse screaming. Lyle’s stallion.

  “Had to be done, girlie. Can’t have your man chasing us down.”

  He released her and she slumped forward, her stomach roiling. She used to feel nothing. Now the floodgates opened and she couldn’t stop the fear, rage, and, above all, hopelessness burning through her, filling her mouth with bile.

  “You be good now, and we’ll get you to Doyle in one piece. Don’t make us regret not doing for your beau.”

  She nodded numbly. The other two riders had already joined them, trotting out of the pine forest and out to the road to town. She barely noticed, even when they veered off the road into the wild country.