Wildflower

by Lynda Bailey

  The first intimate kiss of his mouth jolted her hips off the floor.

  “Shh,” he soothed, his fingers tightening around hers. “Easy, sweetheart.”

  He placed another kiss. She twitched violently though she managed to stay on the floor. By the third, fourth and fifth kiss, she lay taunt, not moving, but her tension had increased like barbed wire strung too tight.

  Logan smoothed her hair again, felt her shuddering quivers of anticipation and fear. Her button of pleasure was exposed. He stretched out his tongue, eager for his first true taste of her virgin skin…

  It exploded against his taste buds. Tangy. Sweet.

  Intoxicating.

  Whiskey had nothing on Matt. And like all good whiskeys, a man couldn’t stop with just one sample. Despite his vow to go slow, he couldn’t. Lord in heaven, he couldn’t.

  He lapped her sex. Licked and suckled her clit, not able to get enough. Every taste only made him more hungry, more starved, in need of more.

  From very far away, her moans registered in his head. She released his hand, her fingers threading through his hair. He wanted to eat her alive. Devour her. Die with his face in her pussy.

  “You taste so good, sweetheart. So damn good.”

  With one hand, he cupped her bottom to raise her higher. His tongue continued to swirl in, around and through her scented, sexy folds as he inserted a finger into her tight, tight slit.

  Hell’s fire.

  A dark, primitive urge rushed his brain. He wanted his cock there, not his damn finger.

  He could take her right here. Bind her to him forever. Brand her. He could do it. She was in no condition to stop him. The possibility had his blood surging in his veins, his cock hammering at twice his heartbeat.

  But because he could didn’t mean he would. Sometimes he truly hated himself and his fucking morality.

  He didn’t want morals. He wanted Matt, naked and thrashing beneath him, his cock buried so far inside her it touched her soul.

  He wasn’t going to get that. But he was gaining ground. He needed to stay patient—not his strong suit—just a little bit longer.

  He pressed a second finger into her pussy while his thumb played at her ass entrance. You would have thought she was riding a bucking bronco the way her hips bucked and bounced. He whorled his tongue around her nub as his fingers thrust in and out of her cunt. He sucked her clit deep into his mouth. He heard his name. A breathless, pleading sound.

  There was a change to her taste. It became saltier. She was about to come. He sucked harder, made his fingers worked faster. He wanted her juices on his tongue. In his mouth.

  Her cry of release sent a shudder of pure male satisfaction down his spine. Ripples clenched his fingers. But he didn’t relent. He kept caressing and licking until she was reduced to tiny spasms.

  Finally, Logan crawled up her body and took her lips in a possessive kiss. She returned the kiss with abandon. He lifted and gazed in her glittering green eyes.

  “Dear Lord,” she whispered.

  He smiled at the wonder and awe in her voice.

  “Is it supposed to be like that?”

  “If you do it right.”

  She grazed the back of her hand down his cheek. “Guess you did it right.”

  He took her hand and kissed the palm before holding it to his heart. “Guess I did. Now it’s your turn.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Her turn.

  Logan dropped on his butt, yanking at his boots then his socks.

  Matt wondered what he’d meant by that.

  He shoved to his feet and tugged his belt buckle free before undoing the buttons of his Levi’s.

  Whatever the meaning, she hoped it wouldn’t be too hard. She felt weaker than a newborn calf.

  Logan tore the denims from his lengthy legs. The firelight outlined the rich contours of his shoulders and chest. His belly was flatter that a corral post and looked just as hard. His engorged shaft jutted straight out from his body. He stared down at her, his face shadowed, but bright intensity burned in his eyes. She shivered.

  Maybe she wasn’t so tired after all.

  He knelt beside her and pulled her to her knees, facing him. Hesitancy made her shy. “What should I do?”

  His arms came around her. “Anything you want.”

  Anything she wanted? Too bad she didn’t know what that was.

  His lips covered hers and his tongue probed her mouth, though not in a controlling manner. Strong, yes. Everything about her husband was strong. And virile.

  But this kiss wasn’t about riding roughshod over her, demanding and taking from her. Rather it felt…equal. Like they were partners.

  Reality stunned her. They were partners, at least for now. Logan had made that clear concerning the ranch and now he was extending their partnership to the bedroom. And like any good partner, since her husband had given so unselfishly, it only seemed fair to return the favor. She wound her arms around his neck, slanted her mouth and kissed him with all that she had. All that she was.

  He paused for a span of a heartbeat before his arms nearly squeezed the breath from her body. His mouth became hungrier. She matched his ravenous appetite as his hard cock pressed into her lower belly.

  Tipping her pelvis, his cock slid in between her legs. She then pumped her hips, moving over the hot, slick length of him. She hadn’t a clue what she was doing, but if the gurgled, choked groans coming from Logan’s throat were any indication, she was doing something right.

  Her hands roamed over his chest. Her nails skimmed his nipples. A low snarl of pleasure sprang from him. He wrenched away.

  “Hell’s fire, sweetheart. You’re gonna kill me.”

  A smile danced on her lips as she nipped his jaw line and neck. He leaned back to brace his arms behind him which gave her the freedom to explore his body.

  Tonight she wasn’t Matt, the cowhand or Matt, Gene’s daughter.

  Tonight she was Matt, the woman. Logan’s woman. If only for tonight.

  Her lips went lower, to his chest, to lick and taste each hardened nipple. His cock twitched between her legs.

  Her thumbs counted his ribs, her mouth traveling ever lower, tracing through the bristly smattering of chest hair. Her tongue explored his bellybutton as her hand closed around his pulsing flesh like he’d shown her. Glided up and down. She heard his harsh intake of air. Felt his body strain, his muscles quake. He’d said her mouth would be on him.

  Down here.

  She stared at his erection. It stretched upward, broad and so enlarged, her finger and thumb could scarcely touch for its girth. It convulsed against her palm.

  It appeared darker than the rest of his skin—more dangerous—nestled in a batch of tight curly hair. He brought his hand to the back of her head and encouraged her downward.

  She glanced up. His face seemed craved from granite, yet his hooded eyes glowed. She licked her lips and switched her gaze back to his cock. His whole body stilled. She opened her mouth. And slowly enveloped the throbbing head.

  At the first touch of her tongue, a strangled groan echoed loud and he lurched. He kept his hand on her head, but didn’t push her to go faster or further than she was ready. It gave her a sense of comfort. Made her want to please him even more than she already did. She took him deeper.

  His hand fell away as his hips gently thrust into her mouth. “Your mouth is so hot, sweetheart. So hot and tight. Lick the underside. That’s it. Ah—”

  Her nipples prickled at his raspy instructions.

  “Take my cock back into your mouth. All of it. Come on, deeper. Move your hand with your mouth. Good. So damn good.” His hips increased their tempo, driving in and out of her mouth. “Now cup my balls in your other hand. God—”

  A thought fluttered at the edge of her brain. If she and Logan were truly man and wife, this would be the part of him to invade her other body part. To give her his seed. Give her his child.

  A void swelled within her body. It started in her womb and traveled up to her ch
est. She wanted more. More of Logan. All of him in fact. But wouldn’t that mean the end to her dream of leaving Indian Territory? Did she care?

  In an unexpected move, he pulled from her mouth and hauled her up his body to kiss her in a ruthless, devouring of lips. His tongue pillaged until all the air was gone from her lungs.

  He yanked her to arm’s length. “Lay down with me.”

  Oh God.

  What did he intend? Claim his full martial right? She didn’t have the strength to say no. “Wh…Why?”

  Her husband settled onto his back. “Cuz I’m gonna eat you up like Chuck’s chicken fried steak.”

  His gruff vow scurried chills along her skin.

  “Now come here, sweetheart.”

  She laid down beside him.

  “No. Straddle my face with your legs.”

  She reared up. “What?”

  His firm hands turned her around. “You heard me. Lift your leg.”`

  “But—”

  “Trust me, sweetheart, you’re gonna like this. It’ll feel good. Real good.”

  In hesitant moves, she obeyed. Mortification flamed her face to be in such a humiliating position. Until she realized his bulging cock was right in front of her. Any chagrin became a distant memory. Cool air breezed against her most intimate of womanly parts as Logan widened her legs.

  His callused fingers parted her tingling flesh. “Now grab the base of my dick and put me back in your mouth. All the way down your throat.”

  She swallowed the quivering head and was rewarded with her husband’s mouth again on her sex. He tickled and teased her before drawing her in between his teeth. Strong fingers entered her as his tongue flicked her responsive clit. She moved her hand in time to her bobbing head. An unexpected pain piercing her backside stopped her. Was that a finger in her ass?

  She popped Logan from her mouth and twisted around. But her husband’s forearm across her lower back kept her from moving. “What are you doing?”

  In answer, he rocked his arm which caused her hips to rock. The stinging pain quickly faded and she swayed her hips in unison to his fingers and mouth.

  She attacked his cock. Heat spiraled out from her pussy to the rest of her body, like ripples in a pond. Soon flames consumed her from within. Dynamite on fire. That’s what she was. She couldn’t think, only feel.

  Feel Logan. Feel what he was doing to her. Feel his cock grow impossibly fat against her tongue. Feel that intangible longing for more take hold once again.

  She gagged and her eyes watered, but she didn’t stop. Never would she stop. Her legs quivered. Her heart raced. Blood roared in her ears. Her belly convulsed. A torrent of carnal pleasure exploded through her.

  His cock muffled her shriek. Her hips bounced and gyrated. Wave after wave of rapture washed over her.

  Still convulsing with ecstasy, Logan threw over her leg and jerked to a sitting position. He gripped her short hair, dragging her up to his mouth. He mashed their lips together in a brutal kiss. His hand covered hers which still pumped his cock.

  His forceful grunt vibrated against her breasts as his seed, hot and pulsing, spurted up between them. He tore his mouth away. “Ah, God! Matt!”

  This time her heart wrenched. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have her husband’s seed inside her.

  After a long minute, where the only sound in the room was their serrated breathing, he shifted back until their gazes met. “You okay?”

  She managed a wobbly nod.

  He brushed his lips against hers. “Good.” He stretched out on the towel and gathered her into his arms. His hand trailed from her shoulder to her fingertips.

  She lifted up to look at him. “Did I do that right?”

  His crooked grin tugged at her heart. “If you do it any better, sweetheart, you will kill me.”

  With a satisfied smile, she tucked her head back to his chest. More moments ticked by. Her eyelids drooped then finally closed. She snuggled into his body heat with a contented sigh. A playful slap to her tingling butt snatched her from the edge of slumber.

  “Come on, wife,” Logan said when she tipped her head to glare at him in mock anger. “We need to get cleaned up. Then it’ll be time for bed.” His eyebrows waggled wickedly.

  Genuine shock gripped her. “Again? You can’t be serious.”

  The tenderness in his laugh washed warmth through her chest.

  He hugged her tight, kissing her forehead. “No, but I do intend to hold you, Mrs. Cartwright. All night long.”

  Chapter Nine

  The next day, Matt rode back to Williamsville, Dave Waters by her side.

  As much as she wanted to be irked at Logan for sending a babysitter with her, she couldn’t. Not after last night. Every bounce of Turk’s saddle had her harking back to the ways her husband had touched her. Where and how. She had no idea a man could share so much with his wife, without actually bedding her. Her legs still ached, as did other body parts. Wicked parts.

  To top it all, he had indeed held her all night, just like he had the previous night. She discovered that waking in his arms was a most wondrous sensation. Being surrounded by his strength and scent was something she could easily get used to. For as long as she stayed, that is.

  The thought of leaving sliced her heart. She spurred Turk to a faster gait in the hopes of outrunning her despair. And confusion.

  Everything had been so simple before her father died. She would go to Kansas City and leave Indian Territory in the dust. Escaping the prairie was all she could ever remember wanting. It had consumed every waking, and dreaming, moment. Now she wasn’t so sure she wanted to go. Because she wasn’t so sure she wanted to leave Logan.

  Logan. Her husband, with his gray eyes and easy smile. He’d given so much to her, far more than her own father. Her name was on the ranch deed, same as his. He didn’t have to do that, so why did he? Just to be nice? Why would he do that? She knew—knew—down to her boots that Logan only married her to get the ranch. Or had he?

  The word love filtered through her head. Did Logan love her? Did she love him? How would she know if she did? She didn’t know what loving a person felt like. But if it was anything like the empty void in her chest every time she thought about being without him, maybe she did love him.

  At the emporium, they dismounted. Dave followed her up the steps, but she stopped him at the door. She didn’t need, and definitely did not want, the little man witnessing her purchases. “Why don’t you go and get a drink? I might be a while with Mrs. Upton.”

  Dave’s longing gaze tracked down the street to the saloon. He looked back at her and puffed out his chest. “Logan told me to ride with you.”

  “And you did. I can’t imagine he meant for you to stand by as I haggled with Mrs. Upton over the new Mark Twain book.”

  “Well…” Dave cast another pining look at the saloon. “If you’re sure.”

  “I am. Now go. I’ll fetch you when I’m ready to leave.”

  It wasn’t until Dave was through the swinging doors that she entered Upton’s Emporium. The familiar bell tinkled at her entrance, but the usual bustle was missing from the store. She also didn’t see either Mr. or Mrs. Upton. She did, however, see Daisy behind the counter, counting the black licorice sticks in an oversized jar. One of Daisy’s friends from the day before leaned her elbows on the counter, a piece of licorice candy in her mouth, looking very bored.

  Matt inhaled a breath then made her way across the store. “Excuse me. Is your mother around?”

  Daisy scowled. “Does it look like she’s around?” She went back to her counting task.

  “Could you tell me when you expect her back?”

  “Now I’ve lost count,” Daisy complained, casting Matt a withering glare. “I’ll have to start all over.”

  “When is your mother coming back to the store?”

  “She’s gone for the day. She didn’t feel well.”

  A noose of panic tightened around Matt’s neck. “Is your father here?�
�

  Licorice sticks flew across the counter. “No. He’s taking care of my mother, leaving me here by myself to deal with the likes of you.” Daisy again resumed tallying the black sticks.

  Completely ignored, Matt turned to leave. She didn’t know the first thing about dress making and had assumed Mrs. Upton would help her buy the material and dress pattern. But if she wasn’t here, that wasn’t going to happen. Not today.

  And she didn’t know when she’d be back in town either. She thought of asking Elisabeth, but it would be months before the mother-to-be could appear in public. Matt would most likely already be in Kansas City. Disappointment weighted her heart.

  The bright green fabric caught her eye. It really would have been nice to finally own something pretty. She caressed a hand across the material. A baby calf’s ear wasn’t as soft. How would it feel against her body?

  “Don’t touch that fabric.”

  She snatched her hand away at Daisy’s strident voice.

  “It’s for paying customers, right Caroline?”

  “That’s right, Daisy. Your daddy’ll have to cut off the part that she touched and burn it.”

  Both girls giggled. A shrill sound like a rusty pulley used to lower a water bucket into a well. Something snapped inside Matt. Something deadly. These two ninny-heads might be prettier than her, but they weren’t better.

  She stalked back to the counter. Satisfaction made her smile at the wide-eyed alarm on both girls’ faces. Caroline grabbed her coat and ran out the door, giving Matt a wide berth.

  She aimed her gaze at Daisy. “I am a paying customer and I want to purchase some of that fabric.”

  “What for? A saddle blanket?” Daisy’s attempt at bravado fell flat.

  “Maybe. If I buy it, I can do whatever I’d like with it. But a dress would be better. Are you going to help me or will I have to tell your pa you disrespected a customer?”

  Blonde curls slowly swished side-to-side. “No-o.”

  “Good. Now I’ve got some other things I need as well.” She showed Daisy the list Elisabeth had made. “And the latest copy of Harper’s Bazaar.”