by Alix Labelle
He smiled. “Anything you like.”
As he stretched out beside her Becca turned on her side to look at him, and run her hand over his chest. When her fingertips brushed his small, flat nipples they puckered like hers, and she bent her head to try to same caress with her lips. The low groan he uttered as she licked him made her feel a little bolder, and she moved over him, straddling his thighs and bracing her hands against his shoulders.
That pressed the swollen shaft of his penis between her legs, where she felt hot and wet, and she rubbed herself against his hard girth, her belly tightening as the contact made her feel achy and empty inside. She bent down to kiss him, opening her lips for his tongue and pressing her breasts against his hard chest.
Chris rolled over with her, covering her with his big body as he ravished her mouth. When he finally broke off the kiss they were both trembling, and need blazed in his eyes.
“I’ve never been with a virgin,” he told her hoarsely. “But I’ve always used condoms with other girls, so I’m clean.”
“Good. So am I, obviously.” She parted her thighs, hugging his hips as she cradled his erection, the throbbing ache inside her growing to an impossible hunger. “Chris, I feel so strange. I need . . . ah.” He was touching her down there, working his thumb gently over the little pearl inside her folds, and it felt so good she gasped with pleasure.
“There, I knew you’d like that.” Chris kept stroking her as he nuzzled the side of her throat, and then whispered against her ear, “I want to put my mouth on you, Rebecca Rose, and kiss your sweet pussy. Would you like that?”
She blushed furiously, but his question sent a new pulse of wetness between her thighs. “If you – if you really want to.”
Chris kissed his way down her body, stopping to leisurely lick and suck at her nipples. By the time he settled between her legs Becca’s whole body trembled. She moaned as she felt his warm breath caress her sex, and his fingers gently exposing her clit.
“So damn pretty,” he murmured as he looked at her, and then bent his head, first kissing her hard nub and then setting his mouth over it to stroke it slowly with his tongue.
The wet, hot caress made her clit swell and pulse, and Becca arched against his loving mouth, crying out as a terrible, wonderful sensation billowed inside her. A moment later she felt as if she shattered into pure light, her body bursting with radiant bliss.
Chris moved up over her slowly, hitching her legs up around his hips as he reached between them to wrap his fist around his shaft and press the thick head between her folds. “Look at me, baby. I’m going to make you mine now.”
Becca knew the first time was supposed to hurt, and braced herself for the expected pain. Yet as Chris slowly worked the head of his penis inside her, all she felt was her softness stretching around the broad dome until she engulfed him entirely.
Chris’s eyes closed for a moment before he looked down at her, his lips parted, his expression filled with hard, masculine need. “Am I hurting you?”
Becca shook her head and curled her hands over his wide shoulders as she strained against him. “More. Give me more, please.”
“I’ll give you more.” He pressed in, working another inch of his shaft inside her, making her whimper. “I’ll give it all to you, baby.”
The slow, steady strokes he used to penetrate deeper into her body rekindled Becca’s need, until she clenched around him, almost frantic to have him completely inside her. Chris held her as she shook and whispered to her, telling her how lovely she was, and how good she made him feel. Finally he sank his last inch into her, filling her to his root. The feel of his body hair and the velvety press of his balls against her tightly-stretched opening made her curl her fingernails into his shoulders.
“You’re all mine now, baby,” he murmured against her lips, his eyes sparkling like blue diamonds as he kissed her.
Becca didn’t think it could feel any better, and then he slid out of her and pushed back in, his swollen shaft caressing her from within. She tightened around him, squeezing him as he came into her, and he groaned out loud.
“Don’t,” he begged. “It’s too good. I can’t take it.”
Heady with her new-found power over her big lover, Becca kissed his ear and whispered, “Then take me, Christopher. Take me the way you want to.” She nipped the side of his neck before she added, “I want all of it, all of you, right now.”
“Then take it.” He jerked her legs up higher, his face taut with need as he began pumping hard into her. “Yes, baby, there it is. Just what you wanted. Take my hard cock in that hot little pussy. All of it, like that. I want you to come on me, come hard for me. Oh, God.”
His graphic words and the hard, deep shafting he was giving her sent her back into the sizzling heat of delight, and as it burst over her in an explosive climax Chris shoved deep into the center of her pleasure. She cried out as she felt his penis swell and jerk as he came inside her, his seed flooding her trembling tissues with silky warm wetness.
Chris stared down at her, his eyes filled with a dazed satisfaction. “Now all I need, Rebecca Rose, is some hot chocolate.”
“Oh, Christopher.” With a sob she hugged him close. “I love you.”
Chapter Five
The ice storm rolled in over the cottage a few hours later, hammering against the tin roof and waking Chris from a dead sleep. He glanced down at the woman sprawled across him and pulled the quilt up over her bare shoulders. Rebecca murmured something wordless and rubbed her cheek against his chest.
The feel of her naked body on top of his made his cock twitch, but Chris knew after the wildness of their first time she’d likely be sore. Gently he eased her off him onto her side before he slipped out of bed to pull on his trousers.
After adding a few more logs to the fire, Chris checked the windows and then sat down to watch the flames crackling merrily in the hearth. Rebecca’s bag sat open beside the bricks, and as he moved it away a book fell out.
Chris picked it up and saw it was her Bible, and couldn’t help peeking inside. He found the folded yearbook page tucked in Psalms, and opened it to see his senior picture enclosed by a hand-drawn pink heart. Under his photo were the words “My secret love” and “I’m yours 4-ever” in Rebecca’s neat handwriting.
His eyes stung as he saw the deep crease lines, and how the page had torn at the edges and had been taped back together. How many times had she unfolded the page to look at his picture? A thousand, at least.
Chris carefully replaced the page in the Bible and put it back in her bag. He knew from helping some friends with their wedding that there was no waiting period for couples in Montana. As soon as they got the license, they could be married immediately.
“Hey.” Wrapped in his grandmother’s old blue bathrobe, Rebecca sat down beside him. “Everything okay?”
“It is now.” Chris pulled her onto his lap and tucked her against his shoulder. “What do you think about getting married?”
She frowned up at him. “You mean, to each other?” When he nodded her lips curved. “Well, I think I’m supposed to say we just got together, and we should take our time, and think this through and so on. But all I can really think is, hell, yes, and how soon?”
“When the storm is over, we can go get you the rubella blood test they require for the license. That takes a day. Then we go to county clerk’s office, pick up the license, and have the JoP do the honors.” He caressed her cheek. “I’m thinking Christmas Eve.”
Her eyes shimmered. “Are you sure you want to marry me? Because you don’t have to.” She grimaced. “I’m on the pill for my monthlies, so I won’t get pregnant.”
“Well, then stop taking them, because I want you pregnant.” He spread his hand over her belly. “I want you in my arms, my bed, my home, my family and my life -- forever. Will you be my wife, Rebecca Rose?”
She cradled his face between her slim hands, and kissed him. “Yes, Christopher.”
#
The storm laste
d through the morning, and it was another day before Chris decided it was safe enough to ride over to the tractor barn and get one of the snowmobiles they kept there.
“Casper can’t carry us both with all this ice, so I’ll run you back to the ranch house on the snowmobile, and come back for him this afternoon,” he told Becca as he bundled her up for the short ride to the tractor barn.
Becca wrinkled her nose. “You’re going to leave me alone with your six brothers?”
“Jessa, Ethan’s fiancée, will be there, too. She’s a horse vet, and a real sweetheart.” He tugged her hood up over her head and tucked the edges of her gloves inside her sleeves. “Don’t be afraid. We’re in this together now, remember?”
Becca nodded, and then glanced at the window, where some red and blue lights were flashing against the frosty panes. Her throat tightened as she heard a familiar, high-pitched woman’s voice call her name.
“That’s Holly.” She looked around frantically. “I have to hide somewhere.”
“Not anymore.” Chris put his arm around her. “Come on. I’m not going to let anyone take you from me now.”
It took all her courage to walk outside, and stand calmly as her stepmother marched up to the cottage flanked by two uniformed cops and Ethan and Liam Boone.
“You see?” Holly jabbed her finger at them. “I was right about her hiding inside that man Hastings’s truck.” She gave Chris a snooty look before she smiled at Becca. “I’m so glad you’re safe, dearest. We’ve all been so terribly worried about you.”
Becca ignored her stepmother and spoke to the first policeman. “My stepmother murdered my father, and she threatened to do the same to me and make it look like suicide.”
Holly made a mournful sound. “She must having another one of her episodes.” To Becca she said, “I didn’t kill anyone, darling. Your father’s death was an accident. All I want to do is get you the help you need.” She latched onto Becca’s arm. “Now come along.”
Chris plucked Holly’s hand off Becca’s sleeve. “She’s not going anywhere with you.” He looked at his brothers. “Rebecca and I are getting married on Christmas Eve. You’re invited.”
Ethan gave Becca a long look before he nodded. “Great day for a winter wedding.”
Holly’s eyes glittered with malice. I’m sorry, Mr. Boone, but you can’t marry my stepdaughter. She’s a very sick girl who needs professional help.”
“You switched the tags on the stalls in the horse barn,” Becca said. “That made my father think Whiplash was Snowball. Since they look almost identical, he wouldn’t have known the difference until he was inside the stall. That was when you jammed the door latch from the outside.” Becca opened her bag and removed a baggie with the twisted latch, which she offered to the police officer. “This was the original bolt. She replaced it so no one would know how she tampered with it.”
“That’s doesn’t prove anything,” Holly snapped.
“I know.” Becca took out the tape recorder she’d hidden under the covers during her last confrontation with her stepmother, and turned on the playback. “But this will.”
The hectic color drained from Holly’s face as she listened to herself confessing to the murder and threatening Becca. “You little bitch. You set me up.”
Becca switched off the tape. “Yes, I did.” She offered the policeman the recorder. “I’m also willing to testify as a witness against her,” she told him, and lifted her shirt to show him her bruised side. “For assault as well as murder.”
As Holly screamed in fury and lunged at Becca, Chris stepped between them and picked her up by the collar, marching her over to patrol car and tossing her into the back.
“Sorry,” he said to the officers. “I didn’t want to kill her, and I was pretty close.”
“You get that way around snakes,” one of the cops told him, and eyed the squad car where Holly was screeching and pounding on the window. “Thanks for handling that one.”
“You two want to head back to the house with us?” Ethan asked.
“Oh, yeah.” Chris smiled at Becca as he held out his hand. “We’ve got a wedding to plan.”
THE END
If you liked this story sign up here to receive links to the hottest new romance ebooks on Kindle delivered directly to your inbox every week! (Click the link below or enter https://surrenderpublishing.leadpages.co/amberduval/ into your browser.)
***Coming next is Saved by the Cowboy***
Saved by the Cowboy
Love in Ghost Lake Ranch
Book 3
(Can be read as a standalone book)
By: Amber Duval
Saved by the Cowboy
Chapter One
Jonah Boone rose before dawn to dress and go downstairs, where he found Buck Lloyd starting breakfast for the rest of the family. Savory slices of ham sizzled in a big cast-iron pan, and a bread board sported the first batch of the old trail cook’s homemade biscuits.
Without a word Buck handed him a large thermos of coffee and a big insulated pack stuffed with food.
“That predictable, am I?” Jonah asked, his mouth hitching.
“Boy, being cooped up here for the holidays has you as antsy as a stallion caught in a blackberry thicket.” Buck’s face wrinkled with a grin. “Go on. I’ll let Ethan know you’re cooling your cabin fever.”
“I won’t be more than a day.” He thought of his grandmother’s cabin up in the mountains, where he often spent the night after a long solitary ride. He missed sitting there by the fire, watching the twilight snow frost the evergreens. “Maybe two.”
Buck handed him one of the handheld radios all of the Boone brothers carried when out on the range. “Just call in if you need more time. You know how he worries.”
Jonah nodded, and headed out for the barn to saddle his horse. He didn’t feel guilty about bailing for a day to take a long, cold ride alone. Looking after the family’s cattle ranch demanded that he spend long hours working alongside his six brothers. During the holidays he’d joined in the boisterous celebrations, and had even dressed up in a silly-ass tux for his brother Chris’s wedding. Jonah had never been particularly social, but he’d done his duty.
Now, after a solid month of being corralled by obligations and responsibilities he needed a day for himself – and he’d earned it.
Merlin, his big gray, practically danced with his eagerness to get going once Jonah had saddled and mounted him.
“Yeah, me, too, fella.” He kept him reined in to a trot as they left the stables, and then eased up so the horse could lope across the snow-covered back pasture.
Over the long ride to the ranch’s north boundary line, Jonah sensed his internal knots unwinding. He’d always felt more at home outdoors, with Montana’s endless bright sky and soaring mountain ranges to keep him company.
“My lone wolf,” his mother had called him when she’d found him star-watching on the roof one night. “I think you got most of your Daddy’s Cheyenne blood, Jo.”
The Boone family’s Native American heritage hadn’t just come out in Jonah’s solitary, reserved nature. With his black hair, dark coloring and long, narrow eyes, strangers often mistook him as a local tribesman. His looks also effortlessly attracted the ladies, which he regarded as embarrassing as it was gratifying.
“I wish I knew how you do it,” Caleb, his youngest brother, had once complained. “You just stand around saying nothing, and the women start swarming on you like flies on honeycomb.”
Despite his effortless popularity, Jonah rarely dated. Most girls wanted a relationship to follow every good time. He thought someday he might want to settle down and have a passel of kids, but for now his heart belonged to the land and the sky.
Once he reached Ghost Lake, he rode Merlin into the small barn by the family cottage. After seeing to the big gray, he walked down to build a fire in the yard’s stone pit to warm himself as he ate lunch. Although it would be cozier inside, he needed to soak up the space and the sky more than he needed com
fort.
Across the frozen lake the woods glittered a frosty pewter in the afternoon sun. From here it would be a half-hour hike on foot to his grandmother’s cabin by the thermal springs. Merlin might manage his way alone the narrow, rocky mountain trail, but the cabin had no stable if Jonah wanted to spend the night.
Ethan wouldn’t worry if he stayed out two days. Three might be pushing it, though.
A short cry shattered the stillness, making Jonah rise to his feet. Across the lake a shadow darted out of the trees. The pale-haired woman ran to the edge of the ice, and Jonah’s eyes widened. Her bare arms and legs gleamed white in the sun as she fled down the bank.
He doused the fire with his coffee before he slung his pack over his shoulder and ran parallel to the woman. His breath billowed in white clouds as he rounded the west edge of the lake and she saw him. She stopped in her tracks, looked back over her shoulder and then ran for him as if her life depended on it.
Jonah tore off his jacket before she reached him and as soon as she did, wrapped it around her violently shivering form. “What are you doing out here like this?”
“Got away.” She was so out of breath she gulped the air between her words. “Took me. They’re coming.”
He looked all around before he stared down at her. She had a bright red abrasion on her cheekbone, and the shadow of a black eye darkening above it. “Someone after you?”
She nodded frantically. “Hide. Have to. Please. They’re coming.”
Jonah caught her before she could run from him. “Lady, wait.” He went still as he heard a shotgun slide being pumped, and looked over her head. Two men strode out of the woods and advanced on them.
“Looky here.” The biggest of the pair grinned behind the shotgun he had leveled on them. “You making a new friend, Caroline?”
#
Caroline Scott winced as Don Travers tightened the cords binding her wrists, but she kept silent and still. Twenty-four hours of being his captive had taught her that much. He’d shoved her on the floor to sit back-to-back with the cowboy, who also had his wrists bound behind him.