Hyacinth (Wildflowers Of Montana Book 2)

by Vanessa Vale

  I was making Jackson aroused as well. His cheeks were becoming ruddy, his jaw tight, his eyes darkening to stormy blue. The callouses on his fingers rasped against the tender skin on the inside of my thighs.

  “Touch yourself.” His voice was deep and rough, almost rusty, as he looked his fill. I knew my lips there were swollen and pink and very, very wet. I put my fingers together and ran three of them over my flesh, finding that hard nub that had me exhaling and relaxing. My eyes slipped closed at the decadence of it.

  “That's your clit. Soon I'm going to put my mouth on it and flick it, suck on it, perhaps even nibble a bit and make you come.”

  My eyes flew open at his words. “Your mouth?”

  He grinned wickedly. “Oh, yes. My mouth. Move your fingers lower. Part your folds and show me everything.”

  I couldn't deny him anything now, for touching myself there, especially with him watching, made me warm all over, made it even more...hot. My mouth opened and I began to breathe shallowly, as if I couldn't catch my breath. Parting myself, I glanced up at him through lower lashes. I thought about how I looked in his eyes. My legs were bare and spread wide. I had my hands touching my woman's flesh, parting it and opening it so he could see every bit of me, in a way I couldn't see myself. I must have looked wanton and tawdry. What he must have thought of me! I began to move my fingers away and close my legs, but he put his hands on my inner thighs and held them open.

  “I know what you're thinking, Hyacinth, and it's not true. You are so beautiful, every part of you. Put your hands back on your pussy. That's it. Good girl. That pussy belongs to me. It's wet because you desire me. You long for the direction I give you. You're desperate to feel the pleasure only thinking of me can bring you. Were you thinking of me when you touched yourself earlier?”

  I bit my lip and nodded.

  “Do you know how hard you make me admitting that?”

  I shook my head, for I didn't know what he meant. He put his hand down by the front of his pants. “My cock is so hard for you.” Moving his hand away, he continued. “Can you see it pressing against my pants? See how big it is? How hard?”

  My eyes widened as I saw the blunt, thick shape of it. That was going to go inside of me?

  “It's staying in my pants. For now. It's time for your pleasure, love. Part your pretty pussy lips again for me. Yes, just like that. Oh, there's your virgin hole. Have you put your fingers inside yet?”

  His blue eyes held mine.

  “Yes.”

  “Show me.”

  I moved my hand downward and slipped a finger in, only to the first knuckle.

  “That's your arousal. That wetness, that pussy juice? It's all for me. To taste on my tongue. For my cock.”

  I gasped at his words and the feel of my finger inside.

  “Use two hands. Touch yourself and don't stop. Do what feels good.”

  I brought my other hand to the juncture of my thighs and began touching myself, running my fingertips over my slick flesh, learning what felt good.

  “Try rubbing your clit with one hand and slip a finger inside your pussy with the other. Just like that.”

  I couldn't help the groan that escaped my lips, for I'd never used both hands before. My eyelids fell closed once again, and I gave over to the feeling, to Jackson's voice urging me on.

  So beautiful. I love to hear how wet you are. My fingers will touch you like this, my mouth will taste you, my cock will fill you. You're mine, Hyacinth. That pleasure? It's building and building, isn't it? Don't be afraid. Let go. I'm right here.

  Perhaps it was the last of what he said that had the pleasure so intense, the feel of it so overwhelming that I had no choice but to give over to it. It was scary, and I'd been afraid to let go, but Jackson had known. His hands squeezed my thighs and I knew he was right there. I couldn't be harmed when he was with me. Whatever was happening was going to be so good or Jackson wouldn't allow it. Because of this knowledge, this trust, I did as he said and just gave over to it. When the feeling burst from me, my eyes flew open and met his and I cried out his name. “Jackson!”

  It was like being tossed into a flash flood again, completely out of control, completely at the mercy of the current of pleasure that had overtaken my body. My nipples were tight beads beneath my corset and they ached. My pussy—Jackson's pussy—pulsed and throbbed and I felt my arousal dripping from me around my finger. It wasn't until my mind returned, that the pleasure had ebbed that I breathed again.

  “That, love, was coming.” He took my skirt from about my waist and lowered it back around my ankles, covering me entirely and modestly. I could cover myself even further—wear a coat, a hat and a muffler and I would never relinquish the immodest thoughts that were going to stay with me forever. A wicked grin spread across my face. I couldn't help it.

  “Imagine what it will be like when I get my hands on you.”

  The thought had my body responding once again, my clit pulsing and my nipples hardening.

  “When?” I asked.

  Jackson stood to his full height and held out his hand to me. “I've made a vixen.” Since he was grinning as well, I knew he was using the term as a compliment. “When? As soon as we get to the church and married. I expect if we leave now, we can arrive just before the service ends.”

  “Now? You want to marry me right now?” I was admittedly addlebrained from the coming but I was surprised he wanted to make it official immediately.

  “Do you want my hands on you?”

  I licked my lips at the thought, my body heating and softening once again at the idea of having his fingers replacing my own as I came, then nodded.

  He groaned and shifted himself in his pants. “Then now. Right now.”

  JACKSON

  I'd thought Hyacinth beautiful since the first moment I saw her, but when she came, the look of utter shock and delicious pleasure was something I would never forget. Her lips had parted, her breath escaped in little pants. A flush covered all of her exposed skin, including the inside of her lush thighs. Her fingers on her pussy, all pretty pink and glistening, had me almost coming in my pants like a randy and overeager youth. For one so shy, she was quite passionate once she got past her worries regarding appropriateness. There would be nothing between us and this was the just the beginning. I longed to teach her what it would be like, show it to her. Give it to her.

  That wasn't happening though, until we stood before her family, my father and the town and said our marriage vows. I wanted Hyacinth to know that not only did I cherish her; I respected and honored her as well. Later, when I was fucking her, showing her things beyond her wildest imaginings, I didn't want her to have any doubt, any question that what we did together was allowed, accepted and perfect.

  There would be no clandestine wedding, no shotgun affair where townspeople would talk. I wouldn't have one word against my bride and that's why I tugged her out into the sunshine, to the stable to saddle a horse, and into town with all due haste. When we stepped through the doors to the church an hour later, the minister was just giving his final blessing. Everyone turned in the pews to see who had interrupted. Hyacinth stepped back, her body shielded slightly by mine.

  “If you've got a few extra moments, Reverend, Miss Lenox and I have use of your services and we would surely like the town to act as witnesses.” With the congregation silent, my voice carried quite well.

  I glanced down at Hyacinth. She was gripping my hand as if she might be carried off by a strong wind. Bright flags of color marked her cheeks and while she did not enjoy having the congregation's eyes on her—being the center of attention was more for Iris and Dahlia—I could tell she was pleased to be marrying me.

  Miss Trudy stood from her pew and came to us, a soft smile upon her lips. Hyacinth released my hand as she gave the woman a hug. “May I stand with you?” the older woman asked Hyacinth.

  Tears filled Hyacinth's eyes as she nodded, and this time I was sure they were from happiness and nothing else. My father came down the
aisle to join us as well. He was beaming, and turned that bright smile on Hyacinth first, then shook my hand. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought there was a sheen of tears in his eyes.

  “You did good, son,” he murmured.

  I clapped him on the shoulder, relieved to have both of their blessings. While I wouldn't have met Hyacinth if I hadn't joined my father on the Lenox Ranch, I was pleased to know he was with me in this important moment.

  My father held out his elbow for Miss Trudy to take and he escorted her up to the altar, the congregation whispering and smiling as they did so. It was not often a surprise wedding occurred.

  The pianist began playing a processional and I looked down at Hyacinth.

  I saw nerves, the way her smile was a tad brittle, the way her hand gripped my biceps a little too tightly. Only I could detect it though, for I could see happiness as well. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed and she was looking at me—me!—with something akin to love.

  I didn't expect her to love me...yet. She hadn't given me proper opportunity to woo her, but she recognized the connection between us, the chemistry that made this...thing we had between us so special—special and important enough to marry.

  We would have the rest of our lives to discover every secret we held dear. For me, to fall in love...even deeper.

  I softly ran my thumb over her knuckles, and then led my bride up the aisle. I winked at the six remaining Lenox sisters, who whispered and smiled as we passed. I'd known them long enough to know they were equally surprised and pleased. Rose and Chance Goodman were sitting two pews up and Hyacinth reached out and took Rose's hand briefly. Their sisterly bond was the closest and it was important for Hyacinth to know the other woman was with her, just as I wanted my father.

  As we stood before the minister, who did not seem the least put out by the extension of the service, I turned to face my bride, ready to say my vows and ready to hear Hyacinth pledge hers in return. While I hoped I appeared calm on the outside, my heart beat wildly in my chest. I'd wanted this moment since the first time I laid eyes on Hyacinth, and she was becoming mine.

  No one could separate us. No one could question that she belonged to me. Even Hyacinth. When the man announced I could kiss my bride, I barely heard the clapping from the congregation as I lowered my mouth to hers. The kiss was brief and nothing akin to what we'd shared in the washroom and completely different than how I would claim her mouth once we were alone.

  I was thrilled for the ceremony to have so many witnesses, but now that it was complete, I wanted Hyacinth all to myself…and beneath me. Completely and totally naked.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  HYACINTH

  I expected to be pulled into a gaggle of women who would pepper me with question after question about the surprise wedding, but Jackson allowed me to hug Miss Trudy once again as he spoke briefly to his father, then escorted me down the aisle and back out into the bright sunshine within ten minutes of our arrival. He had me on his lap upon the horse and heading away from town before anyone else even left the church. Ever since he'd stated his intentions the other day, the man had become very direct and very clear on his intentions. While I had no doubt those intentions were with me in mind—he'd said his goal was to make me happy—there seemed to be no swaying him when he was so focused. I assumed now he was focused solely on getting me alone, getting me naked and getting his hands on me. For this reason, I was not going to fight him or question his dominance.

  I wanted his dominance now. I ached for it. That was why I didn't complain when he didn't saddle a second horse at the ranch or when I couldn't even give more than a wave goodbye to Rose. It was this...eagerness that was exhilarating, for I'd never been the center of someone's attentions before, let alone a man's. I savored the feel of him beneath me, his hard thighs shifting with the sway of the horse, the feel of his arms about me holding me securely. His incredible scent teased me. Everything about him teased me.

  I was married to Jackson. I was Mrs. Jackson Reed. I'd thought it would scare me, but it didn't. It felt...amazing. Being so lost in my thoughts, I didn't realize we weren't returning to the ranch until we pulled up to a very familiar bend in the creek. I stiffened in Jackson's arms at the sight of it and my heart sped up. Sweat dotted my brow as memories assailed me. The water turning from clear to mud. Crickets chirping replaced with the thunderous sound of a torrent of water. Branches and debris floating and bobbing toward me. Jane screaming.

  “Why are we here?” I whispered. Panic clogged my throat and I turned my face into his shoulder.

  With one hand remaining on the reins, he put the other about my waist, his big hand warm and comforting.

  “I thought we could bathe.”

  “Here? Now? No. No! Jackson, you're being cruel.” This very spot was where we'd been swimming when caught in the flash flood, where we'd been washed away, where Jane had died and where my life had changed forever. One minute I had no cares or worries, no idea of the dangers of living in such a wild place, how fragile life was. The next, I knew of the frailness of life.

  “Not cruel, love,” he replied, his words soft. His hand stroked down my back in a soothing gesture, but it didn't do much to calm me. “It's time to make new memories in this place. I'll be here with you. Nothing...I mean nothing will happen to you when you're with me.”

  I felt his words against my cheek as much as heard them, his voice rumbling from his chest. The water looked calm and almost placid, only an occasional ripple in its slow moving pace. I remembered it to be shallow, not even to my knees for most of the stretch, but a slight bend created a deeper section where it came to my waist. It was perfect for bathing or frolicking, and in most times, perfectly safe. Except when there was a flash flood.

  “You expect me to go back in the water?”

  “Have you returned here since the flood?” he asked, clearly avoiding my question.

  I shook my head.

  “Let's get down and walk for a minute.”

  The arm about my waist lifted and lowered me easily to the ground and he soon followed, letting the horse walk to the edge of the creek and drink.

  “Trust me?” he asked, keeping an arm about my waist. I clung to him, not wishing to get anywhere near the water. What if the deluge returned?

  “Hyacinth,” he prompted.

  Looking up into his pale eyes, I saw no deceit, no reason for him to torture me by bringing me here other than to face my fears directly. All I saw was calmness, which had me taking a deep breath. Even standing a safe distance from the water's edge, my heart raced and my palms were damp. If I let go of him and somehow fell in, I'd land on my bottom with only a few inches of clear water swirling past.

  “You can't belittle what happened, for it was a similar day as this,” I said, my words rough from the horrible memories. “The weather was fine, the water calm then, too. But it changed.”

  I shuddered and Jackson gave me a firm hug.

  “Not today. Not with me. You won't forget. The bad things don't go away that easily. You carry them around with you, but they must be put in the past. You can't let fear control your life,” he said as if from experience. Had he had terrible things happen to him as well? Did he have scars on his mind that wouldn't heal? “I won't forget and neither will you, but I don't want to take you back to the ranch yet. Things aren't ready.”

  “Ready?” I asked. Just looking at the water made me unable to think.

  “My father is going to move in to the bunk house for a little while, so we can have some privacy. Especially tonight.”

  Our wedding night. I hadn't thought about it. I'd thought about some of the things we would do, but not where. My house—no, it wasn't mine any longer—was full of women and privacy was minimal. Jackson lived with his father and did not have a house of his own.

  “Do you plan for us to live with Big Ed?” I liked the man, but I never considered living with him. This marriage had come upon me too quickly to think about any of the details. Where we wo
uld live was a very large detail.

  “I'll build us a house.” He paused and cupped my cheek, then released me and stepped back. “Unless you want me to buy a ranch of our own.”

  I raised my eyebrows in utter surprise. “You would buy a ranch? Do you—we—have enough money for something like that?”

  He tossed his hat into the grass, and then began to undo the buttons of his shirt. I realized then that he was no longer holding me, that I was standing on my own and I was...fine. Perhaps it was the strip of skin that he was exposing one button at a time that had me distracted.

  “Money is not a concern. I worked for the army for over a decade. While they didn't pay well, I had no expenses, and so I saved. Invested in a friend's copper mine over in Butte. If you have your heart set on a ranch of your own, then you'll have one.”

  The way Jackson spoke, it sounded as if we were rich. It was difficult for me to think about money, or anything for that matter, for he was undressing. Outside. In front of me.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, pointing at his chest, which had emerged from the V in his shirt. I could now see had a smattering of blond hair and a flat stomach that had very defined muscles. I couldn't help but lick my lips at the sight—and it was only just a peek.

  “We're going in the water.”

  “The water? I'm not going in that water,” I countered, but my words didn't have as much fear or finality as they had minutes ago, for drat the man, he was diverting. I gulped, thinking about Jackson naked. Jane and I had stripped down to our chemises, but we'd just been girls and I'd had no interest in boys, no knowledge of what it felt like when a man only had eyes for you. Or, what it felt like to watch a man take off his clothes, one article at a time.