by Emma Lang
“I want to do more than kiss. My tits are aching, and my pussy is too.”
He was silent for a moment. “You are honest, that’s for sure.”
She reached over and found his cock, pulsing and hard in his trousers. “Seems like you are needing more than kissing too.”
He sucked in a breath, and she started to move her hand up and down his staff. She loved the feel of his hardness beneath her fingers. It was life. It was love. It was pleasure.
“Every time I’m around you, my dick gets hard. Hell, that first day in the bath, the first time you touched me, I couldn’t control it.” His voice was thick with what she thought was passion.
“Then don’t.”
He rolled onto his side, creating an awkward angle for her to keep touching him. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“The only way you’ll hurt me is if you don’t touch me. Please, Shane.” She swallowed her pride, using please again with him. “I need you to touch me.”
“I can pleasure you, honey. Let me make you feel good.” He nibbled on her earlobe, something she was coming to realize was her weakness.
Shivers rolled down her body, and a throb in her lower belly turned into an ache in her nether regions. “Yes. Make me feel good.”
He shifted beside her, and she still couldn’t see a thing. “What are you doing?”
“Shush, woman.” A few more moments passed, and he unbuttoned her dress. Her nipples grew impossibly taut, and she could barely contain her impatience.
He took his time undressing her, one piece at a time, kissing her exposed skin when she least expected it. It raised her arousal with each unexpected touch of his lips. She moaned when he kissed her belly. She squirmed when he kissed her hip. Slowly, and with great care, he undressed her completely.
Naked in the black night, Lettie would have been afraid a month ago. Now she could hardly wait to see what he would do next. When the wet, cool cloth touched her shoulder, she sighed with pleasure.
He was washing her.
It might have been strange to anyone else, but she loved it. She was covered with sweat and dirt, and the feel of the cloth against her skin was pleasurable. The fact he was the person cleaning her, whereas she had cleaned him weeks ago, made their relationship a full circle. They had started this way and here they were again, going in the opposite direction.
He cleaned each breast, avoiding her nipples, much to her consternation. His tongue swiped one and the other, and she about melted. His hot tongue bathed her nipples over and over, then his teeth nibbled at her. Lettie arched up into his mouth, eager for more.
He continued washing her, moving down her stomach, closer and closer to her aching pussy. He avoided it, as he had her nipples, and cleaned her legs and feet. After untying the bandages around her thighs, he gently washed the wounds. He tied what she hoped was clean bandages around them. He must have cut her petticoat up as she’d asked. The man made her heart flutter with each act of love he performed. How could she have ever thought he was a drunken fool?
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
She tsked at him. “You’ll only hurt me if you don’t start cleaning my woman parts right quick.”
He made a strangled sound again. “As you wish, my lady,” he repeated.
His hands grazed her thighs, raising goose bumps as his calloused fingers skimmed along her tender skin. He spread her legs, allowing the cool air to caress her heated core. He breathed in through his nose loud enough for her to hear it, then he kissed her there. Between her legs.
She couldn’t stop the gasp that popped out of her mouth. “Do people really do that? I thought it was only in dreams.”
“Shush, woman.” He placed the cool cloth against her, gently cleaning the most private part of her body. It felt wonderful but not as good as his lips on her.
Lettie hoped he would do it again. And again. And again.
After thoroughly cleaning her and raising her arousal level to near frantic, he touched her thighs with his hands. She almost sighed when his hot breath caressed her aching flesh.
He spread her nether lips and blew. She clenched so tight, it sent a bolt of pleasure through her.
“I wish I could see you.”
“It ain’t pretty. It’s a regular pussy, Shane.” She didn’t know what she was saying, so eager to have him touch her more.
He chuckled. “It’s more than regular. It’s yours.”
With that, he licked her slit from top to bottom. Lettie stopped breathing for a moment as the sheer ecstasy of his touch rippled through her.
“Jesus Christ.”
“Nope. Shane.” This time his tongue slid inside her like a little cock.
Lettie dug her fingers into the leaves beneath her, their soft wetness crumpling in her grip. He found the nubbin of pleasure hidden in the folds of her pussy and sucked at it.
She nearly cried for him never to stop. It felt incredible, the most incredible thing she’d ever imagined. His thumbs slid inside her, fucking her with a steady rhythm that matched the draw of his mouth.
His tongue tickled her clit as he sucked. With each beat, her hands clenched harder, her heart thumped against her ribs and her tits ached to be touched. She reached for her nipples, desperate for more. The first time she pinched herself, she gasped.
He paused and pulled his mouth away. “Are you touching yourself?”
Not even a little embarrassed, she answered, “Yes, dammit, because you can’t pleasure my cunt at the same time as my tits. I need both.”
He was silent for a moment, her hot pussy pulsing not an inch from his talented mouth. “God, I love you, woman.”
His words combined with her arousal made her eyes sting with unshed tears. “Then show me.”
He didn’t need instructions, that was for sure. His mouth descended on her, his tongue working, licking, sucking, teasing her.
Lick. Suck. Lick. Suck. Nibble.
His teeth closed around her nubbin, and she pinched her nipples hard enough to cause a smidgen of pain. It actually raised her pleasure higher, so she did it at the same time as he bit her.
When her orgasm hit, it was with the force of a twister. She bucked against him, squeezing his head with her thighs. A silent scream ripped through her along with exquisite ecstasy. The waves of pleasure went on and on, as he continued to lick, suck and nibble at her, his thumbs fucking her.
When she finally gained her breath back, she whimpered, but he kept his mouth on her. She couldn’t take a second more.
“Please, Shane, stop.”
He didn’t answer, but he kept sucking and licking at her. To her astonishment, another orgasm built quickly. It was less intense than the first, but longer, as though she were under a waterfall and the water drenched her over and over. She cried out his name, her voice choked with love.
Shane gentled his mouth until he was only kissing her softly, bringing her back down from the stars. He kissed her one last time, snaking his tongue out to tickle her clit. She jerked from the sensation, and he chuckled. She would have yelled at him if she had a voice. Instead she floated lethargically on the ripples moving through her as though the two powerful orgasms hadn’t left her body.
He closed her thighs, then kissed his way up her belly to her breasts. When his mouth closed around one breast, she groaned. With a few sucks and licks, he shifted to the other to repeat the process.
“I couldn’t help myself. I needed to taste them too.” He settled beside her and leaned over to kiss her. His breath and lips tasted musky, and she realized it was her. This was so different than what she’d experienced so long ago, another lifetime, with Angeline and the forced sex. Shane had pleasured her, and she found herself curious and feeling naughtier by the second. She pulled his head down to hers and kissed him. She lapped at his lips until he opened them.
A rich tanginess filled his mouth, and she pulled it into her own, excited by the fact he had shared her essence and it tasted as forbidden as it was thrilling. She kiss
ed him thoroughly, her body pushing against his, skin to skin. But not all of him was bare. He still wore his trousers, his cock hard and pulsing against her hip.
“Make love to me.”
“You’re not ready for that, Lettie. You’re still covered in bruises and wounds.” His voice sounded strained. “I can’t.”
She reached for him, but he moved backwards. “You will let me touch you.”
“No, I don’t, ah, Jesus…”
Her hand curled around his member, rendering him mute. While he made noises in his throat, she unbuttoned his trousers and freed him from the confines of the fabric. He was so warm and hard, filling her hands with man. She tightened her grip but didn’t know what to do next.
“Rub it up and down, yeah, that’s it, faster, harder,” he commanded with breathless intensity.
She heightened his arousal with each squeeze and tug, with each breath against her cheek. Lettie was in control, pulling him toward his release. His scent surrounded her, filled her with heat and love.
He stiffened beside her, his fingers digging into her hip. “Ah, God, Lettie, I’m coming.”
His cock erupted in her hand, the warm streams of life running down her fingers. Knowing she was the reason he had found his ultimate pleasure, that she was the person to bring him there, filled her with joy.
This was what she was missing, the piece she never understood that existed between Sam and Angeline. She’d witnessed it but never quite knew what it all meant. Until now. Until she found pleasure with the man she loved in the shadows of a cabin being swallowed by the forest.
Lettie finally knew what joy was.
“I can’t believe I let you do that.”
She smiled at him. “I don’t think you could’ve stopped me.”
He barked a laugh. “No, I don’t think so either. Stay right there.”
She lay there, naked and satiated, while he cleaned her hands and redressed her in her chemise, using her dress as a blanket. She listened to him perform his ablutions, the chink of his suspenders, and the splash of the water. All the while, she floated on air.
Shane settled in beside her, his big body warming hers to a comfortable level. As Lettie drifted off to sleep, she wondered if she could hold on to the joy for the rest of her life.
Angeline woke up to the sound of knocking. Loud, insistent knocking. Sam roused beside her and lit a candle. She blinked at him sleepily.
“Is someone knocking?”
Bang, bang, bang.
“Yep, sounds like it.” Sam yawned and started to get out of bed.
Angeline blew the sleep from her mind and came fully awake. No one knocked on their door in the middle of the night. Something was wrong.
She jumped out of bed and threw on the dress from the chair, ignoring Sam’s startled shout. Angeline nearly flew down the stairs to the front door, yanking it open breathlessly. Pieter stood there, his bushy eyebrows in a serious scowl.
“Lettie and Shane did not come back to the Blue Plate. Marta wired to the store in Benson, and they did not arrive.”
Dread coiled its way around her stomach, and she curled her hands around her belly, a protective instinct for her child. “What happened?”
“I don’t know, but they are missing. I talk to Hans at livery. He said wagon needed a new wheel, but he didn’t have money to replace.” Pieter’s accent grew heavier the faster he talked. “Marta thinks they had an accident.”
“Sweet Jesus.” Angeline pressed her hand to her mouth, afraid for her friend and the man who had captured her heart. She had pushed Lettie into going when she hadn’t really wanted to.
Sam stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “When are we leaving?”
“An hour. Be at the restaurant.” Pieter disappeared into the darkness, the lantern in his hand the only light in the inky night.
“I’m going with you.”
“Oh no you’re not.” Sam closed the door, making the candle flicker in the breeze. It illuminated his expression, casting shadows on his beloved yet worried face.
“Yes I am. If they had an accident, they’ll need someone to doctor them. I’m going, and there isn’t a thing you can do to stop me.” Angeline marched past him, her nose in the air, daring him to contradict her. She would make coffee and get ready to leave.
Lettie was her sister as much as Eliza was. Angeline would leave with the men who went in search of the couple. They would have to tie her down to keep her home.
Lettie needed her, and she would go no matter what.
Chapter Eight
A flock of birds screeched outside, waking Shane from his slumber. Daylight filtered in weakly through the tiny cabin window. He hadn’t slept so deeply in his entire life. It had to be due to the woman who lay beside him, the woman who owned his heart.
Her face was relaxed in sleep, making her look much younger than she was. The frown lines were gone, and her thick lashes lay like miniature fans on her cheeks. Her mouth was slightly open and those lips, those luscious lips, called to him. He leaned over to kiss her when he heard a voice.
He scrambled to his feet, his instincts on alert. He ran for the window, keeping to the shadows. The glass was still dirty enough to make it hard to see out, but he cleaned a corner, enough to peer outside. He was glad he’d used a sturdy branch to bar the door last night. The door was hard enough to open, but with the stick there, it would be impossible.
Shane pressed his cheek to the corner of the window and looked out. At first he saw nothing amiss, the green of the woods and the trees standing in the early morning sun. His heart thundered and his mouth went cotton dry. Sweat trickled down his back as he watched and waited. He spotted movement beyond the clearing.
Shit. If Buster and his men were out there, Shane and Lettie were trapped. There was only one way in and one way out of the small cabin. If they were lucky, none of the men would spot the tiny building hidden in the folds of the leaves and trees. Of course, lucky had never been a word used to describe either Shane or Lettie.
He crept back across the cabin, keeping low. When he reached Lettie, he placed his hand across her mouth. “Someone’s outside.”
Before she could react or protest, he scooped her up and carried her to the darkest corner, to the right of the door where no one could possibly see her even if they looked through the filthy window. Protecting Lettie had become his mission, and he’d be damned if he’d fail now.
He retrieved her brown dress, vowing to burn it one day, and handed it to her. Scuttling around the cabin like a bug, he scattered the leaves to give the appearance of randomness. He wanted no evidence that anyone had been there. Sweating and shaking, Shane returned to Lettie and sat holding her knife in his hand.
The minutes ticked by, and all he heard were vague noises in the woods beyond. The unfortunate fact was the very leaves and trees that were swallowing the cabin also insulated it against noise. No one could hear them, but they couldn’t hear much either. It didn’t help the tension one bit.
Lettie leaned over and whispered, “Is it Buster?”
He cupped his hand around her ear and spoke softly. “I don’t know. We’re safe unless they realize we’re in here, then all they have to do is break the glass.”
They sat there, as still as possible, for what seemed like an exceptionally long time. Shane’s legs started to cramp, and he was sure she was even more uncomfortable. Yet they waited in the shadows, angry and scared.
When someone knocked on the door, both of them flinched but managed not to make a sound to give themselves away. Shane didn’t know if he was shaking or if it was Lettie, but someone sure as hell was shaking.
“Is anyone in there?” It was a woman’s voice, or at least it could have been a woman. Definitely wasn’t one of the three men. “I seen blood out here on the leaves and thought mebbe somebody was hurt.”
Shane met Lettie’s gaze in the gray gloom. They could trust that the stranger was alone and could help. Or they could stay put until she went
away, leaving them still stranded and lost. When Lettie nodded at him, he knew she’d come to the same conclusion. They had to take a chance or the next people to find them really could be the three troublemakers who hunted them.
He got to his feet and walked to the door. “Who’s out there?”
“Oh you are in there. This old cabin doesn’t let many folks in y’know.” A cackling laugh. “You must be somepin’ special.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Mountain Marge, down to get supplies in Benson. I saw blood and thought I could help. I learned medicines from the Injuns when I was a girl.” She paused. “If’n you don’t want help, I’ll be on my way.”
Shane pulled the branch from the door and managed to open it. When he stepped into the light, he saw a woman no bigger than a child, wearing a pair of trousers rolled up and secured with a rope. Her dirt-brown shirt was also rolled up and tied together to stay on her frame. She wore a floppy, ugly hat and carried a potato sack on one shoulder. Her wrinkled face lit up in a smile when she spotted him.
“Well, I never expected to find a young, handsome buck shirtless at the door.” She cackled again. “You are somepin’ special.”
He scanned the woods behind her, but he saw nothing beyond a sparrow on a branch. “Are you alone?”
She glanced behind. “You don’t see nobody, do you? A’course I’m alone. Mountain Marge doesn’t travel with anyone.” She peered at his bare chest. “You need doctoring?”
“No but my wife does. We had a wagon accident yesterday, and it landed on her legs.”
“Broke?” Mountain Marge pushed past him into the cabin. “Let me take a gander at her.”
Just like that, they had help. Shane was so relieved Marge had found them he hopped to her every command while she examined Lettie’s wounds. She pronounced Shane’s field dressing “pretty dang good”. She didn’t have a horse, but she had a mule “over yonder” and offered to guide them to Benson.
Shane looked at Lettie, and she frowned. “We, uh, were headed to Benson, but three men tried to rob us. Home is Forestville. We need to get there instead.”