Suzanna

by Stevie MacFarlane

  Suzanna froze and he was able to position her correctly. He wasn’t sure who was moaning louder when he entered her. Her hand flew to her tummy as she sank back against his broad chest. She was panting wildly and obviously having a hard time with his deep penetration, but Dalton didn’t let that stop him. His hand bee lined for her cleft, his finger parting her damp curls and locating her still swollen clit with no trouble. Gently he began rubbing the slightly rough pad of his finger alongside of it.

  “Does this make it more bearable, honey?” he asked as he nuzzled her neck.

  “It’s still too much. Take some out,” she begged.

  Smiling, he stopped rubbing and used both of his hands to separate her legs, placing one over each of his thighs.

  “Use the strength of your legs to lift your bottom a bit,” he instructed.

  For once Suzanna obeyed and he heard a small sigh of relief escape her lips.

  “Better, baby?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  Although there was now a couple of inches of his cock left out in the cold, the rest was bathed with blazing heat. One hand busily resumed what he’d been doing between her legs, the other settled on her breast, teasing and taunting her nipple with plucks and tiny twists. It wasn’t long before he felt her legs shaking as her head tossed wildly against his chest.

  Sporadic contractions gripped his patiently waiting organ as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge. His teeth scraped her sensitive neck before sucking, then soothing her skin with his tongue.

  “Listen to me, baby,” he sighed into her ear when her moans became long, drawn out cries. “I’m going to make you come now. I know you don’t know what that means, but I want you to trust me, all right? Suzanna! Are you listening to me?”

  “Ah… yes,” she gasped.

  “Good, don’t be afraid. I’ve got you and I’m not going to let you go. Just let it happen, baby,” he growled, biting her shoulder when she sank all the way onto his cock with a weak cry. “Trust me,” he implored as he added another finger on the other side of her clit and worked them in unison. Every few strokes he allowed one to slide directly over the sensitive tip for a firm caress. Each and every time he did that, her hips rose of their own accord, moving her tight pussy up and down a few inches on his cock. It was heaven and he doubted he’d last much longer just from the friction that alone provided.

  Wetting his fingers, he moved one hand to her breast pulling quite firmly on her nipple at the same time he stroked the tip of her clit. This time he didn’t stop until she was screaming out his name and convulsing wildly on his lap, her hips jerking in a lightning fast rhythm that caused his balls to tighten painfully before the telltale tingle stole along his spine.

  Clamping one arm firmly across her tummy, he held her in place and took a brief ride of his own, spilling his seed deep into her still clenching body.

  Dalton kept her weak body firmly on his lap, his cock deeply imbedded inside her as his hands massaged her thighs, rubbing away any tension. He was still hard and while one part of him thought it best to let her rest, another urged his hand back between her thighs where he slowly encouraged her to the brink of another climax. His fingers danced across her clit, soothing one moment and plucking the next until she was once again moaning uncontrollably.

  Carefully he separated their sweaty bodies and lay her on the bed beside him, her legs dangling helplessly off the mattress. Taking her wadded up nightdress, he wiped his cum from her core before kneeling and fastening his mouth firmly over her swollen button.

  She fought him for a moment, trying to clamp her legs together, but his broad shoulders prevented any such protection and, in defeat, she gave in. His dark head between her thighs as he licked and sucked her into madness thankfully had her beyond speech for all he heard were whimpers and sighs as she sank her fingers into his hair.

  Slipping a long finger into her, he found the sweet spot he was looking for and rubbed it with firm pressure until she began to quake in involuntary tremors. Quickly, he stood and pulled her bottom closer to the edge of the bed, slamming his cock into her as deep as it would go.

  On some level it was a little brutal for a woman new to sexual activity, but he couldn’t help himself. Each contraction, each grasp of her snug center pushed him farther from the rational man he prided himself on being toward a mindless male predator determined to take every ounce of satisfaction she could offer. He felt incredible, powerful and dominant in a way that had never happened before with any woman. Dalton could easily envision a future of disciplining, loving and fucking Susanna until his dying day.

  Proud that he’d been able to bring her to pleasure over and over, it now became about him, his need, his passion, his primitive right to take his woman, fucking her until his body tightened in ecstasy as he pumped into her with a force that overruled reason. Holding her hips tightly glued to his, he crashed into his orgasm like a runaway train, spurting his seed deep into her over and over until his legs could barely support him. Falling onto the bed beside her, he pulled her up and crushed her to him as he struggled to breathe.

  “When?” he finally rasped out.

  “When what?” she whispered back, snuggling against his chest.

  “When do you want to get married?”

  “What?”

  “Suzanna, you promised to marry me not twenty minutes ago,” he growled, pushing back to look into her somewhat glazed brown eyes.

  “Oh, I did didn’t I,” she sighed. “Well, you can’t expect to hold me to it,” she insisted hopefully. “I imagine people say all sorts of things in the throes of passion. I’m sure men do it all the time,” she continued, looking away.

  “Oh, I’m going to hold you to it all right, even if you have to walk down the aisle handcuffed to my side,” he assured her, taking her chin in his hand and forcing her to meet his eyes. “Where I come from a promise is a promise.”

  “I didn’t exactly promise,” she shot back. “It was more of a passing comment.”

  “Bull shit!” he barked angrily. “I don’t know why I thought I could trust you to keep your word about anything, but this time I’m going to see to it, one way or another. Now get dressed,” he ordered swatting her bottom crisply. “We have some business to take care of today.”

  Getting out of bed, he walked to the washstand and poured water into the basin. He could feel her eyes watching him but she kept quiet as he washed up. Taking his shaving mug, he worked up a lather and began to brush it across his stubble keeping an eye on her in the mirror.

  Suzanna had no choice but to admire the naked man standing unashamedly across the room. She could see the muscles in his broad shoulders move along with his arms. A tapered waist led to a firm bottom that no doubt looked nothing like her pink one. Rock hard thighs slimmed into solid calves that clearly showed the strength of his physique. No, Dalton was no weakling, physically or mentally. He’d be a hard man to manipulate. Thankfully, she truly believed he had a soft spot for her. If she played her cards right she could capitalize on that. Surely no man who could bring her such pleasure would deny her happiness.

  Plumping up the pillows, she settled back to watch him. For all his orders and strong opinions, he’d really treated her with respect, except for when he was spanking her and for some reason he seemed to think he was doing her a favor. Correcting her in such a manner might have worked if she’d been younger and impressionable, but now she saw it as simply a waste of time on his part.

  Sure when a woman was getting her bottom firmly smacked she would likely agree to anything, but once the pain receded and she was once again thinking clearly, she would revert to her true nature. While not particularly proud of her actions in recent weeks, she was extremely good at justifying them. When she arrived in San Francisco and boarded the ship to Seattle, she’d had no idea she wasn’t securing her future. She assumed she’d be marrying Hugh Jordon, a wealthy man from a prominent family. With no money to return to Georgia and no desire to go home in defeat, s
he set her sights on Sam. Finding out he was going to marry Effie was one of the worst nights of her life and she let her temper get the best of her, spewing vitriol and damaging her reputation as a sweet, demure woman from the south.

  From that moment on she’d been on a downward spiral, making one bad decision after another and feeling more desperate with each passing day. She saw now that going to Portland chasing after a man she hardly knew had been a poor choice and the money she’d wasted weighed on her. Now she not only had to pay it back, but present herself as remorseful and contrite. It would be difficult to swallow her pride when she’d eaten it by the bowlful back in Georgia. Once again she was despised, humiliated, an outcast.

  Perhaps she should marry Dalton and insist he take her away somewhere where no one knew her. It would certainly change her plans of being a grand lady living a life of wealth and privilege. On the other hand, she sensed that Dalton genuinely cared for her. In her opinion, men were basically selfish, wanting their needs met by a beautiful but silent woman. Until this morning she’d had no idea that a man could pleasure her in such a way as to make her want him, desperately. Blushing, she recalled her screams, her cries of desire, her pleading for more. How could she have known that was even possible and would it be so with another man? Suddenly she wondered if great wealth could replace that. Would a grand mansion, beautiful gowns and buckets of jewels allow her to spend the rest of her life lying beneath a great hulk of a man, sweating over her as he found his release night after night without a thought to her own pleasure? Could she feel such desire for a man she didn’t love?

  Pressing her fingers to her temple she realized she’d given herself a headache. He noticed immediately as he dressed. Something else she found strange. Dalton seemed to pay an inordinate amount of attention to her needs, her feelings, even when he was scolding her.

  “I’ll go downstairs and have some warm water brought up,” he said, slipping on his coat. “Would you like me to ask them if they have something for a headache?”

  “Yes, please, and could you have some tea sent up?”

  “Certainly. I’ll be waiting for you downstairs and we’ll have breakfast before we go straighten things out with Hugh. Wear something pretty,” he advised with a smile, “but no putting on airs,” he warned. “You’re to be properly contrite.”

  “Yes, sir,” she sighed dejectedly. Sitting up on the side of the bed, she pulled the sheet around her and let her bare legs dangle.

  “Don’t look so disheartened, little one,” Dalton said, walking to her and brushing her hair back. “Everything will work out, you’ll see.” Bending, he kissed her forehead and left the room.

  Suzanna wished she could be as confident.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Suzanna wore her freshly pressed rose suit. After watching her push the food on her plate around for a good twenty minutes, Dalton rose.

  “If you’re not hungry we might as well get this over with,” he stated, helping Suzanna from her chair. She didn’t argue.

  They walked the few blocks to the Jordon Timber Office. Twice, Dalton swept her up into his arms and carried her over particularly muddy sections of the street. Suzanna hid her face in his shoulder and wished he would just keep walking but he didn’t. Outside the main door, he took her arm and led her inside.

  Almost immediately they were shown into Hugh’s office. Both he and Sam rose at her entrance and took a seat as soon as she sank onto a chair. Dalton stood behind her, his big hand placed on her shoulder, offering comfort.

  “I take it you’d like to explain yourself,” Hugh began, leaning on his desk.

  “I would,” Suzanna replied bravely, “although there is no acceptable excuse for my behavior.” Lowering her head, she stared at her hands as they twisted her lace handkerchief.

  “Nevertheless, I’d like to hear what you have to say. We both would,” Hugh said indicating his brother.

  “Very well, but it’s not a pretty story.” Lifting up her head, she forced herself to face Hugh. “I answered your advertisement for a bride hoping to marry a man of means. My family in Georgia is in desperate straits and has been for many years.”

  “Who do you have in Georgia that requires your help?” Hugh asked calmly.

  “My mother and grandmother,” she replied. “You see; our family was quite well off before the war. We lived on a beautiful plantation called Everwood and had the respect and admiration of all who knew us. My father was extremely well-liked, generous to a fault and a true southern gentleman.

  “All my life I’ve been expected to marry well, and by well I mean marry someone from a family equally prosperous and of some social standing.”

  “I see. I realize the war changed the fortunes of many families in the south, but I’m curious what happened in your case,” Sam asked, crossing his legs.

  “We survived the war by the skin of our teeth. When it finally ended, we didn’t have much money, but we did have our beloved Everwood. For some reason Sherman’s troops spared it while nearly every other home was ravaged and burned to the ground.

  “As a young girl I felt very blessed,” she continued softly. “Most of my friends lost everything. My father had survived several vicious battles with the Yankees and our home was basically intact. I never imagined it would all disappear like ashes in the wind.”

  “Go on,” Dalton encouraged.

  “Many of our former friends and associates began to resent what they saw as us surviving unscathed. They questioned why Everwood had been spared and wondered if my father was somehow a traitor to the cause. Questions soon became rumors and rumors have a way of sounding like facts.

  “My father was crushed, devastated by the thought that lifelong friends could and would turn on him in such a way. He began to drink… heavily. One night he went out into the barn and took his own life. My mother never recovered. The county viewed it as an admission of his guilt and we were ostracized in every possible way.

  “By now I was of marriageable age and my mother pushed me to marry immediately, but all the beaus who had pursued me disappeared. Even my beauty could not overcome the shame my father brought down on us by his cowardice.

  “Eventually we lost Everwood for taxes and were forced to go and live with my grandmother. She was unsympathetic and blamed her son’s spineless actions on my mother. She and my mother fought bitterly. The things they said to each other were enough to make my blood run cold and I had no more options in Savannah than I’d had at home. Our reputation had preceded us.

  “When I saw your ad, it seemed like the answer to my prayers,” she confessed. “Not only would I leave the past behind and get out of that house filled with resentment and sadness, but I’d finally marry a man who could help provide for my kin and give me the life I’d been raised to expect. I never imagined things would turn out like this. I sincerely thought I was coming west to marry you, Mr. Jordon.”

  “Suzanna, I’m sincerely sorry things did not turn out as you expected. In truth, it was my intention to marry Amelia the moment I looked at her picture and read her letter. As you know, it was my head clerk who passed out those letters and arranged for others to reply and secure passage for the brides,” Hugh sighed, shaking his head sadly. “If he’d followed my instructions, most of these issues could have been avoided.”

  “I know that, Mr. Jordon, and I may as well be completely honest. I wasn’t terribly disappointed when I found out you’d married Amelia, especially after I met your brother,” she said with a slight smile. “I’ll admit I was attracted to him right from the start.”

  “You flatter me, Miss Jefferies,” Sam replied with a blush. “Unfortunately, it was the same for me regarding Euphemia. Once I read her letter and studied her picture, I was enthralled, much to my surprise.”

  “I understand, Sam. I guess sometimes we don’t have much choice regarding who we’ll be attracted to,” she sighed, forcing herself not to look at Dalton who was gripping her shoulder.

  “Tell me about Cole?” Hug
h ordered gently. “Why did you run away?”

  “In truth, I never intended to marry the marshal,” Suzanna admitted. “He felt like a friend that night I made such a fool of myself over Sam and we innocently fell asleep under the stars. It was entirely my fault, yet he was compelled to offer for me. In my mind, I was doing us both a favor by leaving Seattle. You see, I’d met Mr. Ferguson at the wedding and with his wealth; well he seemed eminently more suitable for my needs.”

  “So you went to Portland to try and further your brief acquaintance with Clayton Ferguson?”

  “Yes.”

  “That was pretty risky, Miss Jefferies,” Sam interjected. “A woman traveling alone in these parts isn’t particularly safe,” he continued with a frown.

  “I wasn’t alone. Dalton was following me, although I didn’t know his connection to the marshal.”

  “Still it seems inadvisable.”

  “Not to me at the time,” she replied stubbornly.

  “I understand why you took money from my brother under false pretenses. It was to fund your trip to Portland, but why did you steal from the girls?” Sam asked sternly. “Most of them had even less than you, Miss Jefferies.”

  “I was angry, bitter. They never really accepted me,” Suzanna admitted a bit defiantly.

  “Perhaps your haughty, superior attitude put them off,” Sam suggested. “If you’d been honest with them about your circumstances, you may have found them more sympathetic.”

  “A southern woman does not air her misfortunes in public, sir,” Suzanna snapped.

  “Yet she lies and steals, amazing,” Sam drawled.

  Trying to rise from her chair in protest, she felt Dalton’s large hand preventing it.

  “Tell me, have you ever been held accountable for your actions, Miss Jefferies?” Sam demanded, his eyes glued to the man standing over her.

  “Once or twice,” she replied sourly, shooting Sam a glare.

  “A pity it hasn’t been more often. You might not be in the questionable position you find yourself in. Well, what’s it to be, Hugh. Shall we call Cole and have him lock her up?” Sam asked.