“Thank you for your kind wishes. My wife and I appreciate it. Now, I think I’ll just take my bride up to our room. I’ve got some personal business with the little lady.” Lars pulled her closer and kissed her full on the lips.
The women blushed. The men laughed and a few shouted words of encouragement and suggestions before their wives had them hushed.
Lars swept his bride into his arms, carried her from the dining room and took the stairs two at a time. He set her on her feet long enough to retrieve the key from his pocket and opened the door. Then he lifted her over the threshold and dropped her onto the bed.
“Roll over,” he demanded. When she’d obeyed his first marital command, he set to work on those little buttons. After each one was unhooked, he leaned down and placed a kiss on the uncovered skin. By the time he’d reached the last of those pesky fasteners, he’d discovered the little dimples winking at the bottom of his wife’s back. Leaning down he filled first one and then other with his tongue. “Girl, you drive me wild.” He kissed his way back up her spine.
Lars stood and stared at the expanse of creamy skin he’d exposed. Good start, but he wanted more. He rolled his wife onto her back before lifting her to her feet. “That dress ought to fall off easy now. You just hold still.” He wagged a cautioning finger and pulled the fabric from her shoulders. Sure enough, the dress slid. It got hung up on her hips halfway down, but a little tug sent it the rest of the way to the ground. Lars lifted her from the center of the fabric whirlpool and set her back on her feet.
“Holy smoke, Ellie, what is that thing you’re wearing?” Lars exhaled the words.
“A chemise. Maggie said you would like it.”
“Like it?” He swallowed hard. “That hardly covers it.”
He knelt in front of her and ran his hands up her thighs to the ribbon holding up her drawers. “These need to come off.” A quick pull on the ribbon did the trick. Then he rolled her stockings down her legs and off her feet.
Lars hands roamed under the chemise once more until he held a buttock in each hand. He squeezed, patted, squeezed and patted a bit harder. Ellie moaned. Still holding her bottom with one hand, he inserted his other hand between her thighs and signaled her to widen her stance. When she complied, he cupped her female garden and held her firm and tight as she trembled. He ran his middle finger up and down her damp slit. Ellie jumped, and he quieted her with light taps on her bottom. Hell, it was early days. He had the rest of their lives to teach her ways to share their love. He didn’t want to scare her on their wedding night. He found her pleasure nub and massaged it. When she jumped this time, he held her firm to his touch until she squirmed against him.
“I want to look at you, Ellie girl.” Lars stood and backed up a step. He inhaled a sharp breath. That chemise hung from two little strings. Why a good stiff breeze would blow those clean away. Ellie’s breasts stood plump and full. Her red brown nipples poked through the fabric, erect and aroused. At the junction of her legs the shadow of curls promised hidden paradise. He moved behind her. The chemise clung to her rounded buttocks. His hand reached out and lifted the fine slip to her waist. He needed, craved a better look. Those alabaster orbs with their enticing dimples had his blood flowing hot. Stepping to her side he laid a spank on each cheek and waited for the faint outline of his hand to appear. Satisfied, he let the material drop.
“Why did you spank me, Lars?” Ellie’s eyes danced with dark confusion.
“That wasn’t a spanking, Ellie girl. You’ll always know when I spank. That was a love tap,” he explained. “A little spanking is exciting for us both. Trust me.”
“I do.” Her eyes dropped to the floor.
He studied her, absorbed her. His feisty girl had a soft side. She craved him. She’d follow where he led.
Lars put his hands at the hem of the chemise and lifted. “Hands up,” he instructed, and, like a trusting child, his bride complied. The garment floated to the floor.
Ellie threw one hand over her breasts and the other over her feminine curls. Lars gave her bottom a more serious swat. “None of that, Ellie girl. I’m your husband. It’s my right, my privilege. Your nakedness belongs to me.” He pushed her hands to her sides.
“But you’re still dressed,” Ellie protested.
Lars threw his boots off and pulled his shirt over his head. “There. I’ll leave my pants on for a while more. I plan to take tonight slow. God knows we’ve waited long enough.”
Taking her hand, he led her to the bed. He pulled her tight to his body and let his mouth claim her. His hands ran up and down her back. He pulled her pelvis against his hardness. “Mercy,” he whispered.
Lars laid her on the bed and met her inquisitive stare. “Don’t think. Just feel. Close your eyes.” He waited until her lids drifted shut.
He bent her leg at the knee and set her foot next to her bottom. He repeated with the second limb and waited. Ellie stayed in position, quivering, shivering.
Lars climbed into the cradle of her legs and took a nipple into his mouth. Tugging, licking, biting, he moved from breast to breast. Ellie twisted her head from side to side, frantic with need. With a hand on each breast, he continued twisting and pinching her nipples as he slid down her body.
He sat back on his heels. His bride was nearly ready for him. The scent of her arousal filled the air and nearly was his undoing. He took a deep breath before moving his hands to her core and opening her wide. Holy hell. She was deep pink, soft and wet. He groaned and inserted a long finger into her channel.
Ellie’s head whipped from side to side.
Placing his hands under her buttocks he lifted her and dropped his mouth to her opening. Ellie twisted a bit, but he had waited for so long. He had dreamed and lain awake wondering at the taste of her. He’d leave other things for later, but this, this he had to have. His tongue worked her nub and only left that sweetest of spots to spear her womanhood. When she trembled and jerked as she rode her climax, he worked his fingers in rhythm. She was ready.
He was out of his pants and back on the bed before she’d had time to fully descend.
Taking a nipple into his mouth, he renewed her urgency. He figured her breasts were so engorged by now, that the smallest stimulation would send her over again.
He leaned close to her ear. “This might hurt. But only this once. I’m sorry.” Then he drove himself past her barrier and didn’t stop until he was fully seated deep within. He paused and held himself still. Ellie pulled away, but he followed her forward. When her muscles relaxed, he withdrew to her entrance before pushing in again. Ellie’s hips started to move, realizing for the first time how this dance was performed. They waltzed to a slow rhythm at first, spun in circles, glided through turns and swooped like soaring eagles.
Lars needed to set a different rhythm. “Turn over, Ellie.” He tapped her on the side. She opened dazed eyes and blinked. He tapped her again, “Over.”
When she was on her stomach, he admired those dimples again. Damn. He loved those little indentations. He pushed her chest to the mattress and pulled her hips up. As he entered her from behind, he spanked her bottom. This wasn’t a waltz. It was a square dance, fast of tempo and repetitive of step. Withdraw, enter and spank. Withdraw, enter and spank. Withdraw, enter and spank. As natural and easy as a do-si-do.
Lars felt her muscles tighten and decided they would go together this time. As Ellie jerked beneath him, he joined her in their release.
He pulled her close to his side. Her hair of fire lay long and free over his chest. She pushed it out of her face and snuggled under his arm.
“Are you all right?” he patted her back with quick comfort.
“Better than all right,” she sighed.
Relief spread like aged whiskey through his veins. “I was afraid I was too rough.”
“No, I’m fine. I liked it.” Ellie yawned and burrowed her head into that special spot made just for her head, between his collarbone and neck.
“Sleep now, Ellie girl. I might wak
e you in the night. I’ve wanted you for so long I don’t feel like I can quit now that we’ve started on our loving.”
“I’ll be right here if you get the hankering,” Ellie mumbled before her breathing took on the rhythm of sleep.
Twice in the night he woke her with a kiss and slid into her night warm body. When he woke in the morning his erection lay heavy and nestled in the crack of her bottom. Lars lifted her top leg and rested it on his side before he entered her from behind.
When the sun was inching toward noon, Lars put on his clothes. “I’m going to have some food sent to the room.” He pointed a finger at his bride. “You stay naked.”
“For how long?” she asked.
“How long for what?”
“How long am I to stay naked?” she clarified.
“I rented this room for three nights. I reckon by then I can stand it if you cover up. Until then, you’re mine. You’re mine,” he repeated, “and you’re naked.”
With that, he dropped a slow wink, left the room and locked it behind him.
For three days, they lived in private paradise. Food was delivered. Maids collected and returned chamber pots. They took a bath together in front of the fire. Lars instructed his bride on a variety of pleasures, and his Ellie girl was eager to learn.
When morning dawned after their third night, Lars was up and dressed. He had some business to tend to.
“Where are you going?” His groggy bride opened her eyes to the fuzzy early light.
“Before I let you out of the room, I need to see if the senator was as good as his word. I won’t be gone long, but I want to check to see if those posters are really gone,” Lars explained. “If they are, we should be safe to head north. If they are still up, I guess we find a newspaper office.” He put hands on slim hips and glared. “I suppose you better get dressed. You can’t parade around naked. That’s only for me.”
Ellie giggled and stretched. “I’ll be ready when you get back.”
“We’ll have breakfast in the dining room. Time to rejoin the world, I reckon.”
He gave his naked bride one last long look before shutting and locking the door behind him.
Lars wouldn’t take any chances with his wife’s safety. He hoped the senator would solve their problem, but Simon was out there some place. Somewhere that vile man still lusted after his bride.
Well, one thing was for damn sure. He couldn’t have her.
No, he could not.
Chapter 13
Ellie sat in her chemise putting the last pin in a bun at the nape of her neck when Lars returned. His handsome face appeared in the wavy lines of the mirror.
“Are the posters gone?” she asked.
Her husband stood close behind her, and she leaned into his muscular thighs. “They are.” He scooped her breasts into his hands, massaging and giving her nipples the occasional pinch.
“I do believe I’ll have you one more time before we check out.” His breath was hot and moist on her neck. She shivered at his heat. Why would she shiver at heat? The responses her man called up had her baffled, thrilled and exhilarated.
“Now Lars, I just finished wrangling my hair into that bun,” she began.
“Don’t ‘now, Lars’, me, Ellie. I won’t mess your hair.” He lifted her to her feet and turned her to face the mirror. Her chemise was pushed up on her back, and he nudged her feet apart with his boot. She watched as one hand encircled her waist while the other released his erection. He slid into her like welcome home. Their eyes locked in the mirror, and they studied their lovemaking with passion-clouded eyes.
When the storm passed, she nestled into his chest. “Should I get dressed now?” she asked.
“I reckon you better, but I hate to leave.” Lars sat in the wing back chair by the window while she dressed. “We’ll pick up supplies at the Mercantile before getting the horses,” Lars slapped his hands onto denim-clad thighs. “Ready?” he asked.
“Ready,” Ellie declared as she buttoned the side of her riding skirt. They walked down the stairs and out of the hotel door in silent thought before Ellie asked, “Do you think Sven and Caroline have reached Oregon?”
“I reckon so,” Lars stated. “We’ve been gone over a month. Depends on when and where Caroline had the baby.”
“I hope it wasn’t in the wagon,” Ellie grimaced. “Caroline was set against it.”
“Sven will do his best. He carries a heavy load of guilt for missing Micah’s birth. He’ll try to make this a happy event.”
When they reached the Livery, Lars gazed into the cool shade, “I’m here to pick up Tiny and Missy,” Lars called.
“I got ‘em all saddled up and ready to go.” A scrawny man with a piece of straw dangling from his lip emerged from the shadow. “I’ll bring them out.”
Lars dropped coins into the man’s hand before helping Ellie into the saddle. “We’ll get back on the Siskiyou Trail,” he said. “To be on the safe side, I believe I’ll check for posters before I allow you to go into any stores. I think we’re safe, but I don’t want to be sorry.”
They set a leisurely pace as they traveled north. Camping under the stars, cooking over an open fire, making love with the moon for a witness and again in the morning just so the sun wouldn’t be left out.
Lars asked at every store and coach stop if they remembered a big blond man traveling with a pregnant woman and little boy. Some did and some didn’t, but they felt secure they were following his brother’s trail.
“Look at that,” Ellie pointed at a snow-capped peak.
“That’s Mount Shasta,” Lars replied. “We didn’t figure to go much further. The Oregon border is about three days ride from here.”
The next day they stopped in Yreka and Lars asked his question at the Mercantile.
“Well, yes, I remember them. The missus was feeling poorly, and her husband asked if there was a hotel or even a barn hereabouts where they could rest. He said the baby was coming any time. Well, I’ll tell you right now, my wife wouldn’t hear of any such thing. Our daughter married and moved away with her husband, and my Mary has been lonesome ever since. She bustled them into that empty bedroom and put a little cot for the youngster in our room.” He stopped to arrange jars on the mercantile shelf. “She thought they needed a roof over their heads and a doctor. Sure enough, that baby was born the next day with old Doc Hastings there for the birthing and my Mary holding Caroline’s hand. That baby is the spitting image of her mother. A tiny little thing with black hair and deep blue eyes. Course my wife says all babies have dark blue eyes.”
“Mother and baby are fine?” Lars asked.
“Yes, yes, everybody’s fine. To tell the truth, I was worried about her husband. He was nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs, pacing and clenching his fists and pacing some more. You’d think it was their first birth.” He chuckled. “They stayed on a week or so. My Mary was sorry to see them go. They said they planned to settle not too far over the Oregon border, so we might pay a call when we get that way. You know them folks?”
“Sven is my brother,” Lars acknowledged.
“I should have guessed that right off what with that blond hair and all.” The man finished arranging the jars. “Come home for dinner with me. My Mary will be beyond thrilled if you do. She took quite a shine to your sister-in-law and that itty-bitty baby.”
“Are you sure your wife won’t mind?” Ellie couldn’t help but be concerned. Most ladies didn’t like dinner guest surprises.
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll send Ben to ask. He’s the neighbor boy. He likes to wait around, and, if I have a job for him, I give him a nickel.” The man called toward the back of the store. “Ben, I got a job for you.”
A skinny boy of eight or nine appeared. “Yes, sir?”
“Ben, run to my house and ask Mary if she’d like to have dinner guests. Tell her it’s Sven’s brother and his wife.” He held a nickel toward the boy.
The nickel disappeared into a grubby fist. “Yes, sir.”
He left the store at such speed that the three adults shared a gentle laugh.
He returned with a cookie in each hand. “Yes, sir, she wants ‘em,” he declared stuffing one entire cookie into his mouth.
“In that case, we’d be honored,” Ellie said.
“I’m closing up, and we’ll head home,” the man said. He held his hand toward Lars. “Excuse my manners. I’m Glen Forest.’
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Forest. I’m Lars Nielson and this is my wife, Ellie.”
“Call me Glen, and let’s head out.” He stopped to lock the door before turning up the street. Lars gathered the reins of their horses and followed. They stopped in front of a neat yellow house. Flowers of every color grew in beds, hung in pots and decorated the porch. Glen motioned to the side of the house. “You can settle your horses in the barn. You two can use our daughter’s empty room if you want.”
“I would love a night in a real bed,” Ellie sighed.
Lars wriggled his eyebrows at his bride. “Yes, sir, a bed would be a pleasure. I’ll see to the horses and be right in.”
“Mary,” Glen called, “we’re here.”
A plump woman with curly brown hair and intelligent blue eyes emerged from the kitchen. “My land,” she exclaimed. “I am so happy to meet you. Why, we had such fun with Caroline and Micah. And that little baby, why, she’s the cutest little button I ever did see. Named her Mary Louise Nielson. Mary after me. Caroline was that grateful to have a roof over her head when her time came. Mercy. We were happy to have them.” Her face shone. Her smile was large and welcoming. “I’ll get dinner on the table.”
“Can I help?” Ellie followed the woman from the room.
“You can carry some dishes. You men get washed up and take a seat,” she instructed.
When they were seated at the table, Glen laid his hands, palms up, on the table. “Join hands and we’ll give thanks.” Glen took his wife’s hand in his right and Ellie’s in his left. He bowed his head. “Lord, thank you for bringing these young folks to our door. We’re mighty grateful. Keep Sven and Caroline and their little ones safe in your hands. Thank you for this food to nourish our bodies and the love in our hearts to nourish our souls. Amen.”
Here Comes McBride (Journey's End Book 1) Page 12