Claiming Coral (The Red Petticoat Saloon)

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Claiming Coral (The Red Petticoat Saloon) Page 20

by Maddie Taylor


  “I’ve learned it, husband,” she hissed as she wiggled and squirmed about. “I swear.”

  “I don’t hear much remorse. Now, stop kicking or I’ll have to use my belt.”

  She gasped, stilling over his thighs as a tremor swept through her. He thought it was from fear at the thought of the leather whipping her upturned cheeks and started to explain that she’d misunderstood. Then he felt the moisture that had trickled onto his thigh and through his trousers. He paused long enough to slide a hand between her legs and sure enough, her sex was flooded with wetness from her arousal.

  “No, Bo! That’s enough,” she cried, struggling in earnest now.

  Unable to hold her still, he bent forward and lifted his discarded belt from the floor. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he murmured as Coral tensed, clearly waiting for the first lash to connect with her bare skin. Instead, he wrapped the supple leather around her legs just above her knees, locking them in place.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Keeping you from kicking and flopping around my lap like a fish tossed onto a river bank. A moving target is difficult to spank.”

  “Oh…” He heard the disappointment in her voice.

  He was silent for a moment. “You thought I was going to spank you with my belt.”

  She said nothing, but squealed the next moment when he lifted her into his arms and turned, setting her on her back in their soft bed. Using the belt, he easily lifted her legs up in the air and folded them back, her knees pushed to her chest, her feet beside her ears as he leaned over her. His large hand swept down the backs of both thighs and over her upraised bottom. He then let his fingertips glide into the cleft between her cheeks, moving upward until they slipped easily inside the drenched seam between her legs.

  “You’re soaking wet. Do you want to feel the snap of leather on your backside?”

  “No!” Then she closed her eyes and moaned, “yes… I don’t know. The image of you lashing my bottom with your belt or that rotten strop you made me fetch, flashed in my head and made me…”

  “Drip with honey.” As he said so, his fingers dipped between her lips and right inside her drenched channel. She clamped her mouth shut, although she was unable to contain the husky groan of pleasure that welled up in her throat.

  Clearly mortified, she covered her face with her hands as she cried out, “Lord have mercy, what is wrong with me? Wanting both the sting of the spanking and the intense desire it brings! But what else would you expect from a woman who used to wear a red petticoat?”

  His hand moved and laid a half dozen sizzling swats upon her exposed cheeks.

  “Don’t speak of yourself or your friends that way, Coral,” he growled, spurred to anger that she would belittle herself for her desires. “There is nothing wrong with wanting, it doesn’t make you a loose or fallen woman. And you know darn well that most of the girls at the saloon are there because of a hardship in their lives, just as you were. I won’t hear you disparage them or yourself again, do you understand?”

  Suddenly, she broke into tears. “I know that, better than anyone, as do you with what happened to your mother. It’s just that these feelings. I don’t understand why I have them.”

  “Everyone has different needs, baby.” As he spoke, he gently stroked her fiery cheeks, soothing away the sting and comforting her at the same time. “Did you fault the judge for wanting as he did?”

  Her eyes flew open and she gazed up at him through her spikey lashes. “I’m like him, aren’t I?”

  “From what you said, his need was not for sexual release. Yours is because my hand is upon your bottom,” he matched his words to his action and caressed her silken cheek. “You’re bare to me, and your sex is very near where my fingers fall. It is not unusual at all, raring. And, I wouldn’t do it so much if I didn’t get some pleasure of it as well.” His hand came down again, once on each side, not as hard as the previous ones, yet firm enough to rekindle the heat in the area and hopefully make her tingle pleasantly. When she squirmed and sighed, he knew he’d done exactly that.

  “What of the belt or the strap?” she asked, her breath coming out in little pants. “Explain why that arouses me.”

  “Let’s find out.” And with the strop handy, he brought it down with a resounding thwack across the swells of both of her upthrust cheeks.

  “Oh…!” she moaned, the volume growing as he traced the lash mark with his fingers. It wasn’t raised, but a wide streak of darker rose had appeared across her skin. With the flick of his wrist, he laid the leather down again, careful not to overlap the previous stroke.

  She writhed again, arching her back, which lifted her bottom ever so slightly, clearly asking for more. He gave it to her, applying two more strokes, one falling above the first two on her still white skin, the second lower, across her upper thighs and catching her cunt lips in the process.

  A hoarse cry of pleasure accompanied a whimper as she begged, “Oh my stars, yes!”

  He grinned. “I think that’s enough.”

  Her eyes flew open and met his, full of confusion as well as disappointment.

  “It is?”

  “Yes. I hadn’t planned to strap you.”

  “Then why did you make me lay it out?”

  “A touch of fear heightens the experience. As does knowing I’ll be driving into you when we’re all done, doesn’t it?”

  “You are wicked to tease me,” she murmured, her face blushing a rosy red to match her behind.

  His fingers dipped inside her again. “You don’t seem to be minding it, baby.”

  She groaned again and Bo chuckled. “Let’s see to your spanking and once it’s done, we’ll see to each other.”

  “You mean to spank me more?”

  “Of course.” He strove for both a stern tone and expression even though his prick was hard and he wanted nothing more than to take her, then and there. He’d come this far, though, and meant to complete the lesson. “We vowed to always be honest with one another, Coral. What you did tonight didn’t hold true to that promise, did it?”

  “No, Bo. I’m sorry.”

  Kneeling on the bed beside her, he used one hand to hold her legs up out of the way as the other rubbed her bare cheeks. Then his hand began to fall, his open palm swatting again and again, from one side to the other, up and down and all over her quivering flesh. Meant to sting more fiercely than ever before so the incident would not be repeated, it wasn’t playful as he’d promised. He almost gave in when he saw the tears in her eyes.

  “I was wrong, Bo. I promise to always be truthful and won’t ever use schemes or tricks again.”

  He murmured, “That’s my girl,” giving her another half dozen spanks, before he ended it. As he massaged her tender flesh more deeply, he bent forward to blow lightly over the heated skin. He let it waft over her damp lips as well, and enjoyed the sound of her aroused moan.

  “Can we get to the good part that comes after?”

  “Most assuredly.”

  Moving to kneel below her bottom, he lifted her hips higher, propping them onto his spread thighs. With one hand holding her legs pinned in place, he used the other to glide the head of his shaft along the seam of her lips and down through the damp cleft.

  “Please,” she groaned, lifting up as far as she could. His heart and cock swelled, knowing she wanted him, and enjoyed when he took her hard and fast, to relieve the ache.

  Bo, as usual, didn’t disappoint, spearing into her with her legs still clamped tightly together. The new position would cause the sensation to be different, applying pressure on the nub at the front of her sex, her clamped thighs would make the pleasure more intense. As expected, she was soaked with her honey and when he drew back, coming almost completely out of her before slamming back inside, he noticed the overflow had trickled down between her cheeks. Bo knew she had thoroughly enjoyed her introduction to backgammon the morning they’d played on the couch, even more so when he’d added a finger in her quim as he did so. Wan
ting her to feel that thrill again, he slipped his thumb in between her cheeks and pressed slowly against her tight pucker, filling her even fuller.

  “Oh my stars, Bo. I can’t wait any longer,”

  “Don’t,” he ordered gruffly, at the end of his control as well. “I want to feel you grip me hard as you come apart for me, Coral. Come, now.”

  His permission came as she flew apart, overtaken by the desire he’d built within her. She shuddered and clamped down around his driving shaft, the pleasure she inspired in him pure and explosive. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he leaned over her, pumping hard and fast as he too realized the heights of pleasure and filled her with his seed.

  * * *

  A kettle clattering in the sink as she did the dishes, ripped him sharply from the sensual memories of that night and back to the present. He decided it was time to tell her of his news and his decision.

  “Ben has expressed interest in buying the livery and forge.”

  In the window, he saw her reflection as she turned. Soaking dishrag in hand, she blinked at him in shock, with no inkling that she dripped water all over the floor.

  “Are you considering it?” she asked hesitantly.

  From his position, seemingly staring out into the darkness, his answer when he gave it, clearly surprised her. “Yes.”

  “Truly?” she asked, slack jawed

  “What can I say? You and your father have worn me down.”

  Her shock quickly changed to a fierce frown. Then she said something that both stunned and pleased him. “I don’t want you to do this solely for me, Bo. I can be content here with visits from Papa. San Francisco isn’t all that far away.”

  “I appreciated your consideration of my feelings, raring, but the city is two days by stage, you know that. Besides, you’re right. It’s a boom town and we would prosper there.” He continued to speak as she moved. As if suddenly becoming aware she was dripping, she grabbed a dry towel and wiped her hands. Then she took a step closer to him, tilting her head as she stopped and listened closely. “I’ve been asking around. Adam Barlow says the time is right and with the city’s rapid expansion, they need iron works desperately. And shops are springing up all over as more families come to the area. There is a section of town he recommends for us to look into. A place called California Hill, which rises above the growing city and overlooks the Bay. He expects it to build up fast with grand homes and become quickly settled, unlike the rough and raw places that you hear stories about.”

  “It could be a fresh start for us both. A place where you’re not questioned about your past and I’m not known for the color of petticoat I once wore. And, there would be no Millicent and Elizabeth Crankshaw to perpetuate rumors behind our backs.”

  He shook his head, answering without turning. “Sadly, there will always be a Millicent Crankshaw about, or folks like her who are jealous and spiteful of other’s good fortune and happiness.”

  She shrugged as she agreed. “I suppose so, but in a new place, our child won’t be subjected to her animosity toward his parents.”

  His head whipped around. “Our child? Are you speaking in generalities, or are you— Coral, are you expecting?”

  “Yes,” she beamed as she answered. “Does that make you happy, Bo?”

  He rushed across the room and caught her up in his arms, spinning her around once before setting her down and showering her cheeks and jaw and finally her lips with kisses. “Joyously happy, älskling,” he murmured at last. “A father,” he breathed in amazement. Then his brows gathered. “This will make your papa’s day.”

  “More like his year.” She suddenly stopped grinning and began worrying her lip.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Does that spoil it for you?”

  “That Evan wins and gets the grandchild he’s been plotting for? No,” he replied without hesitation, smiling down at her. “Nothing could ruin the fact that we will be starting a family, raring. But your father still has a lot to prove before I trust him.”

  She slipped her arms around him, her cheek nuzzling his chest as she squeezed him tight. “I know, honey. And so does he. I think you’ll find he will be a much better grandfather than he was a father.”

  “He better start being both or he’ll answer to me and find himself on the outside looking in. I will make that perfectly clear, don’t doubt it.”

  “Never. Just as you are the best of husbands, I know you’ll be the best father our child could ever have. I love you so much, Bo.”

  “As I love you, Coral.”

  He then swept her up in his arms and as his lips claimed hers in a passionate kiss, he took her to bed and celebrated their love in infinitely pleasurable ways.

  Epilogue

  Three weeks later…

  Standing next to the wagon that was near bursting at the seams with the entirety of their belongings, Coral wiped away countless tears as one after another of the gems hugged her goodbye. Opal, Rose, Ruby, and Callie, who had left the saloon to marry her preacher, all brushed tears from their eyes, until finally, at the end of the long line stood Amy.

  “How can I every thank you for being such a good friend to me?” Coral asked through misty eyes as she hugged her close.

  “You will write to me, that’s how,” Amy declared. “I will want to know the minute that baby is born and every detail. And don’t be surprised if Opal and I don’t shanghai John into a trip to San Francisco not long after.”

  “You will always be welcome in our home. In fact, if it’s a girl, I plan to name her Amelia.”

  Until that moment, her friend hadn’t shed a tear, but this news pushed her over the edge. She broke down into sobs as she pulled Coral into one last soggy hug, before rushing off, blowing her nose into a hanky that someone shoved her way.

  Bo, who had already said his goodbyes and was standing patiently behind her, moved up and wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. “You’ll see her again, sweetheart. I’d bet on it.”

  Somehow, she knew that she would, which eased her sadness a bit, as did her husband’s embrace as she leaned into his strength for support. Coral sighed softly as she looked after her friend fondly. She stiffened, standing upright again when Amy suddenly paused, her shoulders going tense at the same time her head swung to the side. Coral followed her gaze and saw Millicent and Elizabeth watching the scene from the wooden walkway in front of the mercantile with smug little smiles on their faces.

  What did they have to be smug about? After their scheming became known, no one wanted them around and treated them as if they had a communicable disease. Some of the proprietors in Culpepper Cove had gone so far as to invite them to take their business elsewhere. That hadn’t appeased Coral’s anger enough. And it was all she could do not to stomp across the street and slap the condescending looks right off their faces.

  She’d wanted to pay them back in kind for what they’d done, but Bo had put his foot down. Yes, they’d been backbiting bitches, he’d told her, but passing on information to her father and Harvey, and making public the wanted poster were not crimes. He’d told her to let it go, and she had, for his sake and the sake of her bottom that he’d promised to introduce to the special breadboard that hung in the kitchen if she didn’t comply.

  Just at that moment, Amy veered abruptly from her path and came up behind the Crankshaws. Coral knew instantly that she was up to something by the determined look on her face. The next instant, she lurched forward as if she had tripped, and began reeling forward in a direct collision course with the two women. Time seemed to slow for Coral as she watched her friend’s hands reach out in front of her, as if to catch herself, but instead they made contact square in the middle of each woman’s back.

  Arms whirled like windmills as shrieks of alarm rose in the air. Then, with a thud, they both landed in a heap on the street, Millicent face down and Elizabeth, in a move that seemed to defy all logic, had somehow spun around in a half circle so she fell with a plop and a loud “oomph” right
on her backside. What’s more, through some kind of dumb luck or divine intervention, both landed smack dab in the middle of a pile of horse dung, a rather large, fresh, aromatic one at that.

  Yowls of shock and outrage emerged from street level as Amy gracefully righted herself and smoothed her dress down in front. Then, as if the pair in front of her were invisible, she lifted her chin, her nose delicately sniffing the air. Abruptly, she grimaced in distaste and then said loudly, to no one in particular, “I smell something foul.” She looked down at the women at her feet, the same way they had often looked at Coral and the other gems they encountered, with outright contempt and disdain. “A pity, Culpepper Cove used to be such a pleasant town, until recently.”

  Ignoring their affronted gasps, Amy lifted her gaze and met Coral’s dead on. With a curtsy worthy of any actress who had ever trod the boards at Astor Place in New York, she also gave her a wink and a jaunty wave, then turned and sashayed down the street as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

  In awe at her daring, Coral looked after her until she was out of sight before her eyes shifted to the two women struggling to help each other up from the disgusting mess they had landed in. She further noticed, with a great deal of satisfaction that of the dozens of bystanders looking on, no one was rushing over to help them. Her lips curved into a grin, and even though she tried not to, she started to giggle.

  “Raring, you really shouldn’t laugh,” Bo murmured near her ear, but ruined his gentle scold by letting the hint of a chuckle escape on the last word. She turned, looking up at him as his lips twitched.

  At that point, she lost all control and her laughter burst free, as did Jewel’s, Opal’s, and all of the gems who had come out to see them off. Behind her, Gabe’s deep rumble of amusement joined the mix and Coral couldn’t help roaring so hard and loud, she was bent over, holding her aching waist, as Bo also lost it.

  Across the way, the Crankshaw bitches—was there really another word that suited them better? —screeched about the indecency of this hateful town as they at last got to their feet. They cast scathing glances at the gems, still laughing boisterously at their expense, before stomping off, manure stained skirts and all.

 

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