by Sasha Gold
He drew a sharp breath. Spanking her. The idea hadn’t even crossed his mind in the last week. All he wanted to do was protect her and shield her from danger and ugliness. The notion of spanking her sweet bottom drew a growl from him.
“Not tonight, Isabelle, but you’ll get double next time. Tonight, I just want to make love to you.”
He set her down gently on the bed, locked the door and shed his clothes. He prowled over to the bed and leaned down to kiss her. She met his kiss with parted lips and a soft moan. When he pressed against her folds, she was slick and swollen, and his touch made her flinch.
“Bad girl,” he murmured. “Your pussy’s wet for me.”
“No…”
“No? Maybe I should see for myself.”
She giggled as he trailed kisses down her tummy.
“If you’re not telling me the truth, you’ll be in trouble.”
He pushed her legs apart, and when she tried to edge away he yanked her down, pinning her to the bed with his arm.
“Bad girl,” he growled. “You won’t get away from me.”
He licked her, savoring her sweet taste and forgetting his promise of trouble. Her scent made him wild. She mewled as he teased her. When he sucked her clit, she murmured his name, promised him anything he wanted and pleaded for release. He loved hearing her soft cries.
While he would have liked to torment her longer, he wanted to sink into her and possess her again.
He rose up and settled between her thighs. “You’re going to come on my cock.”
She panted, deep trembling breaths. “That’s filthy.”
He pressed into her. She was so tight, he worried he’d hurt her, and he gritted his teeth to maintain control. When he felt her hands on his hips urging him on, he thrust deeper.
She clung to him, her soft breath fanning against his ear.
“I wanted you,” she whispered.
He gathered her hair in his fist and captured her lips with his, taking long, deep strokes.
“You wanted me today?”
She arched and dug her fingers into his shoulders. “First time I met you.”
He skimmed his hands along her ribcage, cupped her breast, and pinched her playfully. She whimpered.
He nipped her earlobe. “I wanted to put you over my knee. Wanted to kiss you, spank you and fuck you.”
She moaned, and he felt her clench around him.
“I wanted to taste your virgin pussy.”
A gasp of disbelief met his ear.
“Make you come on my tongue.”
She arched beneath him and cried out his name. Her pussy clenched around his cock, and he followed her over. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over him, and he held her as she shook, her own ecstasy flowing through her.
He rolled over and took her with him so she lay on top of him. “Next time we’re going to fuck like this. You on top of me.”
Limp and weak, she lay across him. She lifted her hand and set it on his mouth. “I’ve heard more dirty words since you’ve brought me to bed than I have in all my life.”
Her hair spilled across his chest, and he trailed his fingers through the soft curls, recalling the first time he saw her, just outside of the cabin. She stood on the path, her hair damp from the river. It hung to her waist, wild and free. Her feet were bare. She held the boys’ hands, her expression wary. In the failing light of dusk, he thought she was the loveliest thing he ever saw.
“I wanted you too, Isabelle.”
She sighed as she drifted towards sleep.
“I wanted you more than anything I’d ever wanted before.”
“Mm, I knew it,” she said softly. “I knew it all along.”
He tightened his hold on her and thought of how easily he could have lost her. How damn scared he’d been thinking he wouldn’t get to her in time. He drew the blanket over her and listened as her breathing deepened, and she fell asleep, draped over him.
Epilogue
A year and a half later
Isabelle wrapped the book in tissue, trying her best to do it as quietly as possible. The volume of King Arthur tales was the last present she needed to wrap. Slowly, she tied the red ribbon, pausing to listen for a whisper or a creak on the stair. Luke and Seth were even stealthier this Christmas than last year.
That morning while she’d tried to make a special cake for their Christmas celebration, they’d snuck into her kitchen twice, giggling when she’d spied them and shooed them out.
Aside from the fire crackling in the fireplace, the cabin was quiet. She set the last present under the tree and stood back. Several days before, Matthias announced that the ‘men’ were going out to search for a good Christmas tree. It was a serious task and might take most of the day. They’d need a picnic lunch to take along.
They were gone until mid-afternoon, and returned walking beside Arlo. He pulled the tree behind him, dragging it in the light snow. Now the tree stood in their cabin beside the fireplace. It was taller than Matthias, almost reaching the ceiling. The boys decorated it with popcorn and crimson paper stars. Matthias surprised everyone by topping the tree with a small angel he’d whittled and painted white.
It filled the cabin with a sharp, piney scent of Christmas.
A stirring from the back bedroom drew her attention, and she went down the darkened hallway. The cradle stood in the corner, a few feet from the stove. The baby, a boy of four months, slept, sucking his thumb. Isabelle drew a sharp breath. Whenever she looked at her son, Thomas, as he rested, she felt her eyes prickle with tears.
Three months after Matthias had strolled down her driveway and asked to speak to her husband, Isabelle had discovered she was expecting. The Sutton clan had been overjoyed, both Ben and Cam toasting the news with expensive scotch, and Savannah and Violet alternating between laughter and happy tears.
“If it’s a girl, I won’t mind if you name her after me,” Violet had told her. “Ben won’t let me name a girl Violet. He says he’s terrified she’ll be as big a handful as I am.”
Isabelle adjusted the baby’s blanket. When the child was born, she told Matthias to name him. Without hesitation, he’d said the boy would be named Thomas, after his father.
Seth and Luke both loved having a baby brother and often asked Matthias and Isabelle how soon they’d get a sister. Matthias liked to catch her eye and smile.
Patch lay on his blanket near the cradle. He liked to sleep there whenever he could. Matthias grumbled that he liked the warmth from the stove, but Isabelle suspected the dog wanted to protect the baby.
Strong, wise and beautiful, Patch seemed to think all three boys were his to watch over. He lifted his head and cocked it, listening intently. Did he hear Matthias returning?
Patch held a special place in Matthias’ heart. He never said as much, but Isabelle was sure of it. Matthias liked to call Patch the “pick of the litter.” He reserved a special bowl for Patch, saving scraps and choice morsels for the dog.
The door opened, and Matthias said her name softly. Patch thumped his tail and lay his head back down. Isabelle hurried to the front of the cabin to find her husband in the doorway. His face was red and chapped from the cold. Snow glazed the rim of his cowboy hat. He took a few steps, stalking towards her. He gave her a wicked smile, his white teeth contrasting with a short, dark beard.
She held up her hands to fend him off and gave a breathless laugh. “Do not kiss me.”
He growled his discontent. “Later then.”
It was a game for him to kiss her when he’d come in from the cold. He relished trapping her and tormenting her with an icy kiss while she tried to wriggle free.
He held out a gloved hand. “Come see what I have.”
She took his hand, and he led her to the porch. Arlo stood in front of the cabin. Beside him was a pony. In the dim light of the half-moon, the pony looked to be the same beautiful color as Arlo.
“A palomino pony?” Isabelle whispered. “I can’t believe it.”
“Had to loo
k far and wide for a palomino, but that was exactly what I wanted for Seth.”
Her breath fogged in the cold, and she hugged herself to keep a little warmth. Stepping down from the porch, she held her hand out to the pony. He stepped closer and sniffed her hand.
“So, this is why you had to go to the Suttons’ on Christmas Eve,” she said.
Matthias pulled her into his arms, drawing his coat around her. “Shorty’s been working with him for the better part of a week. Says he’s real gentle.”
Both horses stood side by side. The moonlight burnished their golden coats, and the snow on the ground sparkled around them. The pony was a pretty little fellow, quiet, with large, curious eyes.
Matthias had doubled the size of their land and had a herd of six thousand cattle. He’d already told Seth he could help take the calves to market at the end of the summer. Now he would have a chance to practice his cowboy skills.
Matthias kissed the top of her head. “Now I’m going to have to listen to his brother grouse for two years, asking when he’s going to get a palomino.”
“Thomas will want one, too. Just wait.”
He brushed his lips against her temple. “We better have a few girls after all these pesky boys.”
“I better go back in, just in case Thomas stirs.”
He released her, and she returned to the porch, pausing on the top step. “The pony’s beautiful, Matthias…”
For a moment she was overcome. Perhaps it was the Christmas season, or maybe the way he always did special things for her and the boys, but sometimes she found herself overwhelmed with emotion.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
He took off his hat and banged it against his leg. A flurry of snow fell from the brim. “S’all right, Mrs. Hudson. Happy to do it, but you still owe me a kiss.”
THE END
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Check out my summer 2016 Romance Collection, Old West Alpha and Sass Collection. It contains all twelve stories I’ve written over the past year. The collection includes growly cowboys, gruff bounty hunters and smart, sassy heroines. All stories are safe reads with happily-ever-afters.
Alix West
Copyright © 2015 by Alix West
Author’s Note: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to other real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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Copyright © 2016 by Sasha Gold
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