He stopped and unbuttoned her breeches, rolling them down and over her hips, pulling them off. She didn't protest and he raised a brow at her and then shoved his hands roughly between her legs.
Mercy gasped. She'd never been so intimately touched before, let alone roughly.
Vincent stroked her through her undergarments, until she was grinding her hips up against him to the circular, motion, he was massaging her.
"Say you're sorry, and I'll show you how good I can make you feel." He ordered her.
Mercy glared at him. Despite how he was making her feel, she wouldn't apologize. She shook her head no, refusing.
He withdrew his hand and sat back for a second; making her almost cry out that his hand that was touching her in a way that had felt so good had stopped.
"You say you're sorry, and I'll give you what you want." He told her again.
This little power struggle they had going on became clear to both of them. One was going to win it, but if Mercy refused, would they both end up being the losers in this situation?
The realization startled her.
Was it worth being stubborn, and denying herself the pleasure he was offering her if she kept rejecting him. Would he eventually give up and resent her, or would they continue to play this little game between them until one of them ended up on top?
Mercy had all logical thought fly out of her mind when he pulled off her undergarments and the binding she'd wrapped around her breasts for when she rode her horses.
He tweaked one of her nipples, rolling it between his fingers, and then dug his nails into her skin, just hard enough for her to tense up. His other hand was working its way slowly up her thighs from her knee.
When his fingers touched her bare skin, Mercy did cry out and pushed herself against his hand. She didn't mean to, her body seemed to have a mind of its own. Her body liked Vincent's hands on it, and the sensations he was creating in her, even if Mercy wanted to be stubborn and refuse to give in to him.
"Don't deny yourself pleasure Mercy, that's just being stupid. You've never struck me as being anything but intelligent, most of the time anyways. You do seem to have a tendency to want to self destruct, just a little bit." Vincent whispered to her, as he continued to use his mouth on her breasts.
He spread the folds of her heat apart and rubbed a finger against her when it was slick with her moisture; he slowly inserted it, working it inside her, stretching her.
Mercy thrashed on the bed, as his palms pressed against the sensitive nub above her hole, moaning loudly. Mercy was so close to the edge, she just needed a little more to push her over.
"Please." She begged him, whispering softly.
"Nope. Say 'Sorry Vincent' and I'll give you more." He pulled his mouth off her skin and reminded her what she had to say.
Vincent blew lightly on her skin, cooling her as she broke out in a sweat. She shivered against him, the hot and cold sensations causing havoc in her brain.
"God, fine. I'm sorry Vincent." She barely muttered it loud enough for him to hear her. She'd make him pay for this later. She didn't know how, but she'd get revenge for making her say it.
"Good girl, Mercy. See, that wasn't so hard." He told her. Then he pushed himself down on the bed and nibbled on her legs with his mouth, as his palm pushed harder against her clit. His fingers stroked the insides of her womanhood until she was wiggling against him hard enough that she was almost pushing him back.
He took her over the edge, her release hitting her wave after wave, loud enough it made her scream.
Vincent watched her cum all over his hands and then wiped her juices on her stomach before leaning up to kiss her firmly on the mouth.
He untied her and gathered her in his arms.
"Now, I want to sleep. Stay with me tonight." Vincent raised an eyebrow as he told her, not really giving her a choice since he took his shirt off.
Vincent dropped it on the floor and then got into bed with her, pinning her to his side with his arm.
"That's all?" She asked, confused. She was pretty sure sex involved more than what he just did.
"For tonight, it's enough. If you want more, you're going to have to earn it." He told her, and kissed the back of her neck gently, making her tremble in his arms.
"Asshole." She told him.
"Shrew." He replied.
Chapter 7
After sleeping in Vincent's bed, they'd had breakfast together the next morning. Vincent had listened to her talk about her horses, and the negotiating part of the business.
She admitted that having an intimidating looking male around, made things go smoother, that since her grandfather died, she had been getting low balled for the most recent sales.
Vincent had agreed to come to the next deal and see if his presence could help though promised to keep his mouth shut unless she implied she needed him to talk.
Mercy was busy working with a yearling in the arena on a long lunge lead and a whip in her hand. She was having trouble focusing on putting the horse through its paces, as all she could think about was Vincent.
She realized that she actually liked his company, and she had trouble sleeping the night she'd spent in his arms, she'd been left wanting more. Wanting the whole experience and it had left her frustrated and sleep deprived when she'd gotten up.
He'd given her his robe and she'd snuck back to her room to get dressed. He'd left a small hickey on one of her breasts, and though no one else could see it, she knew it for what it really was. He'd marked her. To remind her that she belonged to him, even if she called the shots outside of the bedroom.
She wasn't sure if she was amused by everything, or slightly miffed. Her brain and emotions had left her in a tangled mess inside her own head.
The one thing Mercy did realize is she could lose her heart to him if she let herself. He made her laugh and made her mad at the same time. With one, glance, she felt like smacking him, and grinding herself against him all at the same time.
"Take him back to the field, you can work with the next one, I just can't pay attention today." Mercy said, as she walked over to the fence and talked to the stable boy who was waiting for directions.
She watched the horse walk off, prancing with high energy and smiled. These majestic creatures never got old to her.
Vincent snuck up behind her and startled her when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him. Vincent whispered in her ear, softly, as he leaned down so only she could hear him.
"Your horses are beautiful, but that aren't nearly as beautiful as you. Have you ever seen two horses mating?"
Mercy had, she nodded.
"I'd like to ride you like that, bend you over a hay bale and take you from behind." Vincent told her, and nibbled on her ears.
"Empty promises." She told him.
"Just ask me nicely." He told her.
"Ask you nicely to do what?" Mercy said, feigning ignorance. She liked to hear him describe it in vivid terms to her. His bold language excited her.
"Ask me nicely to ride you. Maybe I'll even bring my riding crop." He told her, making her gasp when he gave her butt a pinch.
"What is with your obsession with touching my bottom?" Mercy demanded.
"You seem to like it." He replied.
Mercy blushed. "That's not the point."
"Sure it is, watching you get all fired up and react is exactly the point. I like watching you squirm, the way when I slapped my hand on your bottom, I could feel you lean into it, and you grew wet through your pants. Even your breeches couldn't hide your arousal from me, Mercy. You knew exactly what it did. For both of us." He told her.
"Pervert." She muttered half-heartedly.
"If I'm a pervert, you're a slut." He replied.
"I've never even had sex!" She said, not expecting his answer.
"You have in your mind." He told her.
"So? That doesn't count." She said, blushing again.
"You've never thought about touching a hard cock and stroking it w
ith your delicate little fingers?" He whispered as he kissed the side of her neck.
"Maybe, but if I had, I'm not going to tell you." She told him.
"Wear a dress at dinner tonight. Don't wear any undergarments. We'll go for a walk after dinner." He told her, then pressed a final kiss to the side of the head, and let her go, walking away.
He left her to stew on his comments.
Chapter 8
She was insane. Mercy wanted to face palm. She hated wearing dresses. Why was she putting on a dress like he asked? It made no sense to her that she was doing what he wanted.
No, it did. He'd given her the best sensation she'd ever felt in her life, and she kind of hoped he'd repeat it. That's why she'd worn a dress.
Mercy walked into the dining room and sat down, feeling awkward. The lack of undergarments made her feel weird, she could feel the way the crinkles of the inner lining in her skirt rubbed roughly against her skin, itching.
The kitchen staff placed the food on the table, and left them to eat. Mercy picked at her food, not feeling very hungry. Thinking of what might happen on their walk, it put butterflies in her stomach and it made her nervous.
They ate in relative silence, though every now and then Vincent would ask her a question, and she'd give an answer.
It quickly became apparent to him that she wasn't going to eat much more than she had and he wiped his mouth off with a napkin and stood, offering his hand to her.
Mercy looked up at him and took it, letting him pull her to her feet off the chair.
He threaded her arm through his and took her outside. It was just light enough they could still see without any lanterns and he strolled towards the barn with slowly.
"You wore the dress." He said, sounding surprised.
"You... wanted me too." She said.
"Why do you care what I want?" He asked her, stopping when they reached the barn and opened the doors, letting her go in. The strolled down the long hallway and looked at the horses together.
"I don't. Not exactly." Mercy said, sounding defensive.
"Ahh," was all he replied.
When they reached the end of the barn, to the tack shed, he pulled the tack shed door open and walked through the door. It slammed shut behind them, startling Mercy.
He grabbed her and pushed her against the barn wall. This apparently was becoming a habit, and kissed her hard. He used one of his hands to pin both her small wrists above her head. Vincent used his left hand to reach under her dress and find her already wet core.
He smiled against her mouth as he kissed her, teasing her body, igniting a fire that she would quickly beg him to flame hotter.
She spread her legs for him and let her head roll to the side slightly, leaning against one of her arms.
Vincent's fingers made quick work of her folds and had her shuddering against his hand in moments. As the fingers on his left hand stroked in and out of her, his tongue plunged stroked her mouth at the same time.
Mercy gushed all over his hands, moaning into his mouth as he reached the peak and sent her tumbling over, she almost fell down. If he hadn't been holding her wrists, she'd have fallen.
Vincent pulled back to look at her. "You are amazing when you cum. You do everything with fire Mercy. Reckless, wanton, I'm going to take you now."
He walked her forward until she was even with the saddle bench and let go of her wrists and pulled her skirt up roughly.
Mercy instinctively bent forward, grabbing the saddle horn as he kicked her legs apart from behind and pushed her skirt all the way up over her back. She felt his hard cock rub against her bare cheeks for a moment as he tapped her with it.
She could feel his enormous length and gulped, wondering how it was going to fit, but trusted him. There was one thing she'd learned from all their teasing, is he wouldn't harm her. He might push her a little, try to intimate her, maybe even spank her, but he wouldn't hurt her.
She braced herself, not realizing she'd tensed up until he pushed the tip of his cock between her legs, sliding it against the folds, coating it with her juices.
"Relax Mercy. I'll be as gentle as I can." He told her, and then put a hand on her back for a moment to steady himself.
Vincent used the other hand to guide himself between her lips until he found the opening and slowly slipped the tip inside.
He pushed himself just far enough that he wouldn't fall out, then grabbed her hips.
"I'm sorry." He whispered, as he yanked her hips and impaled her onto his cock.
Mercy let out a strangled cry as she felt a rip and intense stinging sensation.
Vincent didn't move. Instead he squeezed and massaged her hips and talked to her softly about how good she felt around him. He told her to focus on relaxing her body, and that it would quickly turn into pleasure.
As soon as she did, he started to gently move inside of her.
After Mercy adjusted to his size some of the more intense sensations changed, and she focused on the way he felt. Filling her, the way his fingers dug into her hips. Her stomach was clenched tight, and every muscle in her body felt like it was vibrating.
After a few moments, he reached underneath of her and started to massage her clit in a circular motion as he continued to ride her from behind, thrusting faster.
"I'm glad you wore that dress Mercy." He told her. "Your bare bottom looks so beautiful all exposed like this while I fuck you from behind."
Mercy gasped at his foul language and felt herself squeeze around his penis, his words arousing her.
Mercy felt her stomach muscles start to clench and unclench in that now familiar sensation that told her that her release was almost upon her. She moaned, and cried out as he stiffened against her backside, her release rolling over her again in waves, making her knees shake.
His nailed dug almost painfully into her hips now as he thrust himself a few more times inside of her in a jerky motion, and then let out a loud grunt before almost collapsing on top of her.
"Can't breathe." Mercy muttered. "Get off me you big oaf."
"Do you really need me too?" He joked and pushed himself up slightly. He was still inside her.
"I guess this means our marriage is real now, huh?" Mercy asked him as he pulled himself out and tucked himself away in his pants.
Vincent helped her up and then pulled her skirt down, smoothing it out as she stood up.
"Our marriage was always going to be real Mercy. I wouldn't have agreed to marry you if I didn't think I could love you," a serious expression on his face as he told her.
"Love?" Mercy said, shocked.
"Yes. I love you. Why do you think I was so frustrated with you avoiding me? I respect everything you are capable of doing, but I need your attention too." Vincent told her.
"You certainly have my attention now." Mercy said blinking at him.
"I hope in time, you'll come to love me too." Vincent told her, and grabbed her hand, kissing her palm.
"If I say I love you, will you fuck me again?" She asked, using his language.
"Only if you mean it." He told her. "Or I'll spank you for fibbing to me."
"I think I do." She said, finding herself surprised that it could happen so quickly.
She stared at him for a moment.
He was an intense, passionate man, he definitely had dominant qualities, but he didn't feel the need to assert it in every area of their life. He understood how important her work was, and respect her boundaries.
Yet, he still saw her as a woman and made sure she knew it in all the ways that counted.
How could she not love someone who could complete her so entirely?
She hadn't even known she was missing this in her life until he showed her. All the angst, and passion and fire she took out on everyone else, finally had a positive outlet, a way to use her energy that didn't piss everyone off around her.
He gathered her in a hug and just held her for a moment, letting her head rest on his chest.
"I'm not perfect Mercy, I
'm going to make mistakes, and I know you have a temper. All I need is for you try to communicate with me, and try to work it out and don't push me away. As long as we work together as a team, I can handle it." He warned her.
"I'm not used to sharing things in my life." Mercy admitted. "And I react poorly to being bossed around."
"Yet, you wore the dress." He said softly.
"Yes. I wore the dress." Mercy said, looking up at him.
THE END
The Cowboy’s Rescued Widow
Chapter one
I stand here shaking like a leaf and I have no idea how I’m supposed to deal with something like this. I didn’t know that Hank had been carrying this burden on his shoulders. Now that he was dead, those debts that he had incurred were now coming down on me. It was bad enough that he was gone, but now I was overwhelmed to the point that I wanted to scream. I was Hope Crosby and my husband was Hank, but I suppose with his death that the last name Crosby went with him. This really couldn’t be happening, but the sleepless nights were a sure sign that it was. I would wake up thinking that he was there, but only finding the empty side of his bed.
My mother told me that being beautiful was not something that I should take lightly. Having spun gold hair and an hourglass figure with birthing hips was a sought after commodity. I was just glad that I was off the meat market, but apparently those days were over. I was not one to mess with. I might have only been 130 pounds and 5’9, but I could be a force to be reckoned with. My family was very important to me and I would lay down my life to protect my husband and everything that he had worked for.
I was still relatively young at 22 and being married for the past five years with the man of my dreams was like my life was complete. I did not fall into the trap of settling and Hank was the man that I was supposed to be with. Unfortunately, he had succumbed to a rare disease. Nobody really knew what to call it and they were just thankful that it wasn’t contagious. I’d known that his father had died of the same thing, but I never knew that he would succumb to it himself.
I stand here in front of this man and he’s licking his lips and looking me over like I’m prime steak ready to be devoured. He tells me that my husband owes him for cattle. I had no way to dispute his claims. I had this funny feeling that he was not going to take no for an answer.
The Highlander's Captive Bride (Scottish Highlander Romance) Page 35