Treasured (Lonestar Love Book 2)

by Victoria Phelps

  She stared at the floor, her face flushed red in her shame and embarrassment. She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Come here.” She joined him at the edge of the bed. His hot, strong hands rubbed her buttocks and pulled her close. His breath, hot and moist, scorched her stomach. With a little push, she lay over his left leg. “That’s my good girl.”

  Good girl. She wanted to be his good girl. Her whole life she had been just that, but for the wrong reason and the wrong man. This man deserved her trust. The day she arrived and rode to the Circle M on his lap she knew. She understood the rightness of Ethan. She’d been safe. Cherished. Rocked to sleep in the comfort of his arms.

  She closed her eyes and waited for his love and his loving discipline.

  Her skirt rose up, up, up until a breeze caressed her buttocks. His hand ran small circles on the exposed flesh of her bottom, down the back of her thighs, up her lower back. The comforting circles became light spanks. The pace and strength increased, and she squirmed in distress, trying to dodge the next spank, but Ethan pulled her closer to his body and held her tight. He threw his leg over the two of hers, and she was trapped. The spanking sent waves of shooting pain. Her body demanded she fight or flee, but Ethan would allow neither.

  “Stop, Ethan,” she choked out on a sob.

  “Not even close, little girl.” His hand continued to punish and reinforce his message. He was in charge. He made the decisions. She would obey or face the consequences. Acceptance surfaced like a warming fire. In exchange for his caring leadership, she received the soothing caress of surrender.

  Charlotte stopped wiggling, squirming, and twisting. She recognized the trade, the joyful giving of authority. Her tears continued to fall in pain and in relief. She had scaled a mountain, treacherous and dark, and achieved the summit where sunshine and light flooded and filled. She lay limp over the muscular thighs of the man she loved. The man who loved her. The man who would guide her, encourage her, and discipline her.

  The spanking subsided, returned to light pats, and finally, gentle circles of relief.

  “You understand, don’t you Charlotte?”

  A torrent of heat flowed through her at his acknowledgment. “I do.” She understood to the deepest part of herself. She had followed her father as blindly as a new born foal. He hadn’t deserved that devotion, and he had used her obedience. He had used it to imprison. Ethan would use it to liberate.

  Ethan would not abuse her trust. He was not that kind of man. She rose from his knee with a lighter heart, a keener understanding, a purer love.

  Charlotte threw her arms around Ethan’s neck as he pulled her to his lap. She buried her face into his chest and inhaled the scent of him —one part horse, one part man, two parts control. The best smell, the very best smell, in the world

  Knuckles rapped on the door. “Sir, we have the tub and water. Are you done?”

  Ethan pulled her close as her face scrunched in embarrassment. “Don’t worry. Girls get their bottoms warmed all the time. It’s nothing they haven’t heard plenty of times before.”

  Charlotte’s face heated as she struggled to right her clothes. Ethan smoothed the remnants of her skirt over her bottom and gave it a possessive pat. She winced as she lowered her punished bottom to sit on the bed.

  “Stay right there, little girl.” Ethan opened the door and the tub was followed by a parade of buckets. Steam rose in a light mist.

  Charlotte took Ethan’s extended hand. “Let’s get you clean,” Ethan murmured and began to remove the borrowed shirt.

  “I can do it,” Charlotte pushed at his hands.

  “I would think a little girl with a red bottom would be more careful with her attitude.” His green eyes sparked warning.

  Charlotte dropped her hands to her sides.

  “Thank you.” Ethan beamed his approval. “Lift your arms.”

  The shirt whisked over her head and was followed by her corset. Soon she stood naked as a babe in room number four of a small hotel in Patterson, Texas. The place where her life began anew. The place she laid her trust and love in Ethan’s large hands.

  Chapter 12

  Ethan

  “My God,” Ethan took a deep breath before he could utter the words, “you are so beautiful.” He ran his hands over her back. Let them sweep down her crimson buttocks. He circled her body, loving every aspect, every angle, every dimple and dent. “Let’s get you in the tub.” Washing his girl for the first time would be pure joy, and he planned to do a right good job of it.

  He took her hand to escort her to the tub, but she pulled her hand from his and threw one arm across her chest and the other over her private parts. He gave her crimson bottom a swat and watched as the print of his hand bloomed white on her scarlet skin. Desire, hot and impatient, licked at his manhood.

  “Stop that, Charlotte. You’re my girl now, and there’s not one part of your body that doesn’t belong to me. Put your arms down. Put them down right this minute.” He emphasized his meaning with a swat that brought her to her toes.

  He gave her a hug and a smile when she dropped her arms to her side. “Now step in.”

  When her well spanked bottom hit the hot water, Charlotte hissed but continued her descent. “Oh, Ethan,” she groaned.

  “Just you wait, sweetheart.” He rubbed soap onto a cloth until he had a good lather and rubbed her shoulders and back then worked his way around to her breasts which screamed for his special attention. He lifted them in his hands and washed away the dirt and sweat of her ordeal. He rubbed the rough cloth over her nipples until she groaned and writhed. The cloth moved down and down her core. With gentle hands, he pushed her legs apart, washing each knee and each thigh. He ran the cloth between her labia, separating her feminine lips and pressing at her entrance. Charlotte moaned and pressed into his hand.

  He shed his clothes in seconds. “I’m going to join you, little girl. Get on your hands and knees.” Stepping into the tub behind her, he bent down and rinsed his cloth in the cooling water before washing her back and scrubbing her flaming buttocks. The sight of her freshly spanked flesh flooded him with possessive passion. “Mine,” he whispered. His manhood surged.

  He sank behind her and pulled her wet body under his own.

  “Charlotte,” he paused in his pursuit. “Can I make you mine? Tell me quick while I can still stop. If you want the preacher first, I’ll find one.”

  “I’m yours,” she whimpered and leaned into the curve of his legs.

  “Stand up.” He helped her to her feet and out of the tub, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Dry off and get in bed. Take your hair down. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  His eyes did not miss a single stroke of the towel as it absorbed the water from her glorious, gorgeous body. He lowered himself into the water and used the same cloth to clean himself before stepping out and seizing his own towel.

  He approached the bed with care and caution. She was a virgin, and he didn’t want to scare her. She lay on her side, eyes closed, knees drawn to her chest. Her eyelids fluttered.

  “Charlotte, I plan to make you my woman. Mine.” He tipped her to her back.

  She whimpered as her backside met the friction of the scratchy sheet. “All right, Ethan.” She held her arms up in invitation.

  Ethan knelt beside the bed and pulled a nipple into his greedy mouth, pulling, licking, biting. He moved from breast to breast until Charlotte wriggled in her need. He ran one hand through the red-brown beauty of her hair while the other slid down her stomach and disappeared between her thighs. He pushed them apart and his clever fingers found her entrance. One long finger entered her, massaged, withdrew and entered again.

  “You’re so damn beautiful,” Ethan groaned.

  He moved between her thighs and draped her legs over his shoulders. Lowering his head to her silky garden, he licked, plundered, and pressed his tongue until Charlotte’s body jerked and arched.

  Ethan lifted his head. “It’s all right. It’s our bod
ies taking pleasure.” He returned for one more taste.

  “Oh Ethan,” Charlotte sighed his name.

  “Let me love you. Let me care for you. I’ll always take care of you.” His promise was a vow.

  Covering her body with his own, he positioned himself at her entrance. “This might hurt a bit, sweetheart. But only this once, and never again.” He moved into her and felt her struggle to encompass him. He stilled and waited. He moved forward again and met the membrane of her resistance. Taking her hands in his, he surged into her warmth, pressing to the end of her damp tunnel. He stilled himself until he felt her move. They met thrust for thrust; their hips pumped in primal rhythm until she cried out. At last, he pulled back and reentered in a final furious blow. He fell to the side and pulled her into the shelter of his body.

  Rising from the bed, he fetched the cloth from the tub. He wiped the evidence of her virginity from his member and cleaned her thighs before rejoining her. He pulled the blankets over their exhausted bodies, curling his legs behind her bottom. Ethan enveloped her in his body and listened to the soothing rhythm of her breathing.

  He kissed her shoulder and brushed her hair out of his face. “Good night, sweetheart. Sleep well.”

  He’d had women before. Hell, he almost married before he left home and traveled west, but something was always missing. Some itch he couldn’t scratch. Something essential. Now he knew. He needed a woman who would not only trust and obey him, but one who would let him lead, correct, protect and cherish.

  Charlotte was that woman. His missing piece.

  He was one lucky man. A quiet laugh rumbled through his chest. Yup, he was one lucky son of a gun. He pulled her closer, tucked her head under his chin, and joined her in slumber.

  Chapter 13

  Charlotte

  Charlotte opened her eyes to her man’s long, long legs disappearing into his trousers. She lay still as he tucked his shirt into his pants and buttoned them shut. He encircled his lean hips with his gun belt and fastened the buckle.

  “Are you awake, Charlotte?” His large, hot hand rested on her shoulder.

  “Yes.” Charlotte rolled to her back and lifted her arms high over her head arching into a stretch.

  Ethan groaned. “Stop that, woman. I’ll be taking these clothes off again, and we need to get moving.”

  Holding the sheet to her chin she sat up and pushed the mahogany hair out of her face. “Where are we going?”

  “To find your mother, of course.” Ethan tied the holster to his right leg. He pointed at a small pile of clothes. “The hotel manager left these clothes outside the door. They look plenty serviceable to me, but you can judge better than I can. I hope they work because I’d like to keep you out of the Mercantile.”

  “Why?” She threw her legs over the side of the bed.

  Ethan sat beside her and took her hand in his. He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “Your father’s men know that you left the train before Odessa. They knew as soon as the train screeched to a stop at the platform. People talk. A beautiful woman willingly disappearing with a band of robbers was mighty interesting news.”

  She flinched.

  “By now they know the bandits were captured and the stolen property is being returned. I would bet they know the sheriff from San Miguel brought two robbers in and left one dead.” He shrugged his shoulders. “They also know the woman who left the train with the bandits is missing. The men your father hired are professional detectives and trackers. They will be in pursuit. You can count on it.”

  His arm around her shoulders sent a thrill of comfort through her body. She leaned into his heat.

  “What should we do?” She shivered and burrowed further into his side.

  “They will retrace the train’s path asking about a woman matching your description. When they reach Patterson, the hotel manager will remember you. But no one else has seen you. I don’t want to make it any easier to find you. A trip to the Mercantile puts you on display for the town.” She nodded her head. It all made sense, but she wouldn’t have thought of any of it.

  “Get dressed.” He took her face in his hands and turned her to look at him. “Do not leave this room. Do not open the door to anyone but me. Do you understand?”

  “I don’t want you to leave me alone,” Charlotte whined. “Take me with you.”

  “You are safe here. I wouldn’t leave you if I thought otherwise.” He placed a light kiss on her brow. “I have to buy supplies for the trail. We can’t travel the usual roads. We can’t take any trains. We’re going across the range and staying away from people.”

  “I understand,” she said, but she couldn’t stop her lower lip from popping out.

  “Stop that pouting, Charlotte.” Ethan gave her thigh a sharp swat. “We’re going to travel rough, and it won’t be easy. Can you be tough?”

  She pulled the offending lip back in. “Yes.” She added a brisk nod to her answer.

  “Good. Now I’m going to the Mercantile. Then I’m going to get our horses saddled up and ready to travel. Be ready when I get back. The sooner we’re gone, the bigger lead we have.”

  He looked down at her. Little frown lines radiated from the corners of his eyes.

  “I’ll be ready.” She gave him a wavering smile and a limp wave.

  He crossed the room in two long strides and opened the door. “Lock it behind me.” His command brought her to her feet and hurrying to follow his instructions.

  The little pile of clothes lay on a chair. She sorted through the stack and discovered a dark blue split skirt, two pairs of bloomers, a light corset, a green print dress, a light blue blouse and a yellow blouse with small white flowers in the print.

  She pulled on fresh bloomers, the split skirt and the yellow blouse. Yesterday’s bath, and clean clothes went a long way to restoring her spirits. She rolled the remaining clothes into a small bundle and waited for Ethan.

  The sound of his boots pounded on the stairs and heralded his return. Charlotte hurried to the door, opened it, and stepped into the hall. She rushed toward him when his body appeared at the top of the stairs.

  His frown sent shivers of warning racing down her back. “Ethan?” His name a question.

  He held both her arms in a firm grip before pulling her to his side. He threw a strong arm around her waist and bent her over his leg. Ten brisk swats had her dancing on her toes.

  “I told you to stay in the room with the door locked,” he growled.

  “But I heard your boots.” Her protest was weak.

  “You heard boots. You didn’t know they were my boots.” He added five firm spanks to her smarting bottom. “You have to do exactly what I say, little girl. I can’t keep you safe otherwise. Exactly what I say.”

  “All right. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Her toes skittered about the floor.

  “We have to go. It’s mid-morning. I don’t have time to spank you proper, but keep this warning in mind. Hear me?”

  “I do. I hear you.” Escaping Ethan’s proper spanking drove her to further declarations. “I understand. I do.”

  “All right.” He released her from his grip. “Let’s go.”

  She darted back into room four and scooped up her little bundle of clothes. “I’m ready.”

  Ethan nodded at the hotel manager, and they swept past. His grip on her arm was nearly painful as he directed her out the door.

  “I kept the calmest of the robber’s horses for you. I know he’s bigger than Bunny, but we need a strong horse where we’re going.”

  She felt his eyes switch from her to the large horse and back again. “What’s his name?” Her voice was a cracked scratch.

  His eyes now surveyed the big blue heavens over their heads. He sighed. “Devil.”

  A desperate laugh escaped from between her tightly pressed lips. “It figures.” Charlotte ran her damp hands down the front of her thighs. “He doesn’t look like a devil.”

  “Charlotte, if I thought that horse was mean, he wouldn’t be saddled and
ready for you to ride. I don’t believe he lives up, or down, to his name.” His hand rubbed a comforting pattern up and down her back. “I’ll lead him to the stairs, and you can get your foot in the stirrup. Can you do that?”

  She nodded with a good deal more confidence than she felt and waited on the stair. “Hello, Devil.” The horse gave a snort and nuzzled her shoulder. Charlotte patted his nose and took a moment to praise his beauty. Devil’s ears tipped back, and he swung his massive head to look Charlotte in the eye.

  Ethan laughed. “Well, you’ve made a friend. You two will get on just fine.”

  Charlotte lifted her boot to the stirrup and swung into the saddle. Her cheeks blushed a heated pink at Ethan’s approving gaze. She sat straight in the saddle, eyes sparkling, and took the reins into her small hands. Her little life, her constricted Boston life, had kept her dependent, incapable, untested. Being praised, being competent, sent a tingle down her body and straight to the tips of her toes.

  She guided Devil into the street. Ethan joined her and put a comforting warm hand on her thigh. His other hand offered her a stick of something dark and dry.

  “What’s that?” She took it from his hand and turned it this way and that, examining it for possible clues.

  “Breakfast.” He chuckled. “Jerky.” Putting a stick into his own mouth, he clamped his teeth hard and twisted his head until a piece ripped off with an audible tear. “It’s dried meat. Travels well.” His jaw worked in a chewing effort of magnificent proportions. His throat then worked equally hard in the effort to swallow the chunk, but Ethan succeeded and followed it up with a grin. “Your canteen is full. The jerky will make you thirsty.”

  Charlotte peered at the dark brown strip. Her nose crinkled, and her mouth drew tight. This brown strip was not appetizing. It was not toasted. It was not spread with fruit. It was not fried, scrambled or poached.

  Ethan’s smile dimmed. “We’re traveling rough, Charlotte.” He gave her leg a little spank. “No complaining. No whining. I might bag a rabbit as we go, but there’s no guarantee.”