by Sasha Gold
His voice was edged with soft threat. “The past two years you’ve been driving me wild. I was being honorable. Staying away from you. It wasn’t that long ago you were playing hopscotch with my baby sister. Then I find out you’re doing this?”
Her arousal vanished. The look in his eyes erased any wantonness within her. There was no way to explain it all to him without giving herself away. She’d come to this room out of desperation, but she didn’t want his pity.
“I needed the money, Dylan.”
Pinning her with his gaze, he put his glistening finger in his mouth. She watched in horror as he sucked the evidence of her need from his finger. The look in his eyes told her everything – he imagined her becoming aroused by other men.
She wanted to flee the room, to run far, far away and never look back.
“That taste...” His mouth thinned with rage. “From now on is going to be just for me.”
He rose and crouched over her. In one savage motion, he tore her dress down the front laying her bare. He took her breast between his lips, sucked and toyed with her, rubbing her tightly beaded nipple with his tongue and biting it. She clasped his head, holding him to her. Desire flooded her senses. She had no defense against his seduction.
She writhed and pleaded, mindlessly. He kissed a trail down her belly to her sex and swiped his tongue the length of her swollen, slick core. When he pushed her knees apart and settled between her thighs, she could hardly breathe. He unleashed a slow torment, kissing, nibbling and licking, all of it igniting a wildness in her. She hardly recognized her own cries. Her body shook with need.
“Please, Dylan…” She threaded her fingers through his hair. Desire gripped her body and she arched beneath him. He snared her waist with one immense arm, holding her fast.
“Please,” she breathed.
He growled softly. His hand brushed her thigh and trailed a fiery line to her core where he tormented her with his lips and his tongue. He caressed her sex, tightened his hold and then found her most sensitive spot. She clutched and clawed at the bed linens. His fingertip brushed a featherlike caress across her channel, and she shattered beneath him.
Her body rocked with waves of pleasure so fierce she thought she might scream. She sank back into the bedding. Her climax ebbed.
He moved over her like a wolf, stared down with primitive satisfaction. “Your little sounds are the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.” His voice was rough with desire.
She shivered and covered her face with her hands as she thought how she’d just allowed Dylan to put his mouth on her. She’d opened beneath him and begged for it. And he’d complied, giving her pleasure. With his tongue. Between her legs. No one had told her about anything like that. There had been no warning. The act was so raw and so primal, she was sure she’d just handed part of her soul to Dylan Ford. Strong arms gathered her close, tucking her against his chest as she shook with wrenching shame.
Dylan felt the shuddering sobs grip her. She’d responded so beautifully, allowing him to build her pleasure, and climaxing the instant he decided to take her over.
He’d coaxed that last bit of need from her. She’d come hard, arched and writhed like a dream – a dream he had, in fact, experienced before, alone in his bed where he’d woken with his hand around his cock. Now, she clung to him like he was the last life raft in a raging sea.
Something inside him shifted. When he first walked into the hotel room he’d been intent on taking the one thing he’d wanted for a long damn time. Ellie Fentress was too young, too innocent and too meek for a man of his tastes – or so he’d thought right up until Clarice offered her to him.
Shocked, he accepted the proposition. Too quickly. The woman upped her price. He threw in an extra hundred dollars. After Clarice left, he sat in his study, poured himself a whiskey and planned his retribution.
Ellie’s response told him she wasn’t quite as experienced as Clarice led him to believe. He cradled her against him, kissed her hair and held her as she recovered her senses.
“First time for that?” he asked gently. Could it be that no man had ever tasted her?
“Dylan…” she whispered.
She lifted her head and drew him down for a kiss. Soft, delicate, the kiss was a plea of some sort and it made his protectiveness awaken, snarl and emerge from its cave. He wrapped his arms around her, deepening the kiss. When she whimpered, he laced his fingers through hers, pulling her taut beneath him. Her small sounds, her scent, the thought of the orgasm he’d just given her, made his lust burn. He needed to shelter her and possess her, to shield her and sink into her slick depths.
She buried her face in his neck. “What must you think of me?”
Pushing her back, he kissed her breast, sucked and nipped her. “I think you’re mine. I own you. Not just tonight, but from now on.”
“I’m not a whore.” Her voice broke.
“You’re my girl.”
It was true. She was his. He knew that now. She was younger, far younger, but he didn’t care anymore. To hell with that. If he’d claimed her when she was eighteen, he could have spared her whatever she’d been through. He was done waiting. Done being honorable.
He knelt between her legs, stroked the satin of her thighs. She gazed at him with hooded lids, her lips parted. A deep satisfaction stirred in him to see desire in her eyes. Savage need unfurled inside him. He pressed against her, the head of his shaft brushing her core. He pushed a little deeper. Her pussy was tight and hot. She lifted her knees offering herself.
“God, Ellie...”
“I heard the girls talking about this trick.” Her voice was shy, tentative. “I want to make you happy Dylan. They said this drives men wild.”
He gritted his teeth. “Sweetheart, you don’t need tricks. You just need to walk in the room.”
She thrilled to hear the need in his voice.
“I won’t let you go, Ellie. Not ever.”
She wrapped her arms around him. After tonight, she would have to admit she was a whore but she’d never let another man touch her. Not after Dylan had finished with her. If she had one moment with one man, this would be it. She’d give him everything she had and then she’d leave Colter Canyon forever.
He pushed deeper and she drew a sharp breath, waiting for what was to come. Pain stabbed her and the taste of copper seeped through her mouth. She’d bitten her lip.
He stilled, then stiffened. His chest heaved like bellows, drawing in deep breaths. He slammed his fist into the bedding.
She squeezed her eyes shut, cringing.
“You’re a virgin,” he ground out.
Burying her face against his neck she said nothing. Would he rail against her? Call her on her lies? The promise of an experienced lady of the evening – was that what made him seek her out that night?
“I’m sorry. I haven’t done this before,” she said.
“…Sorry?” His voice was edged with disbelief. He looked down at her, closed his eyes and shook his head. “Ellie…sweet baby.”
He kissed her, his mouth hungry as it covered hers. She threaded her fingers through his hair, submitted to his passionate kiss. His tongue stroked her mouth.
Breaking the kiss, he looked into her eyes. “Does it hurt?”
“Not anymore.”
With infinite care, he began to make love to her, whispering soft things in her ear. Her pain dissipated and she met his thrusts. Nothing mattered more than giving him pleasure.
He wound her hair in his fist and kissed her as he drove into her. The claim the girls had made of ten or twenty second intercourse flitted through her mind and then vanished. She wanted more of what he gave. Tendrils of arousal wrapped around her.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice was a rough rasp.
She gripped his shoulders, her legs trembling as she clasped his hips. He was going to make her mindless. Again. Only this time, she yearned for it, felt it building inside her.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “You’re going
to make me…”
“Ellie,” he ground out.
He gripped the headboard with one hand and supported himself over her with the other. He stared down at her, his face a mask of lust, dark and predatory. The massive headboard creaked beneath his hold.
“I want to see you come,” he said.
She brushed her fingers over the muscles that rippled across his expansive chest. “No,” she breathed.
He growled. “I’m going to spank your ass regularly. Put you over my knee and redden it till your little pussy gets wet.”
She gasped. “Dylan, stop-“
He drove into her harder. The bed shifted beneath her, rocking with his strong thrusts.
“And then I’m going to tease you with my tongue. Want to know where?”
She writhed beneath him. “I don’t!”
What would possess him to speak so wickedly? She wanted him to stop, wanted to cover her ears. But her wanton body betrayed her and responded to every word. With every filthy thing he said, ecstasy gripped her more tightly.
The headboard creaked as he lowered his face. “I’m going to lick the sweet cream from your-”
Arching, she wailed his name, “Dylan!”
Light burst behind her eyes. Tremors of pleasure shook her so hard she wasn’t sure if she made the bed move beneath her or if he did. Her skin tightened with shivery delight as waves of rapture crashed over her. Distantly, she heard him growl his approval.
With a final thrust, he followed her, his climax tearing a snarl from his throat. He sank to the bed, wrapping her in his arms as he lay beside her. A delicious warmth spread across her body. She felt weak and utterly sated. Behind her she felt the hard planes of his chest, his breath fanning her shoulder.
“We’re getting married, Ellie.”
His voice was rough against her ear. He sounded as though he was moments away from a deep sleep.
She stroked his arm. “You think you need to do some sort of honorable thing? You don’t owe me this.”
Groaning sleepily he rolled away from her, reached for something off the night stand. In the firelight, she saw a small box. Inside, a ring lay, a glint of gold flashing.
Taking her hand in his, he slid the ring onto her finger. “We’re marrying.”
A slow thrill worked its way through her, spiraling and threading around her. She took a deep trembling breath. “You brought this?”
He nodded, one corner of his mouth pulling into a smile. Drawing her into his arms, he kissed her. It was a slow but possessive kiss. He cupped her face, captured her lips and she succumbed to the mastery of his touch.
He pulled her against his chest, kissed her ear and drew a deep sigh. “I was going to tell you right off. But then that dress. Damn. I couldn’t think straight after I caught sight of that.”
Ellie lay quietly in his arms. Her mind spun. Dylan, the only man she’d ever loved, had just put a ring on her finger. From now on she would be with this man. Fall asleep in his arms and awaken there the next morning. It was almost too much to take in.
She couldn’t resist teasing him. “Isn’t a man supposed to ask a woman to marry him?”
“You’d argue with a stump in the ground wouldn’t you?” He propped up on his elbow. “Ellie Fentress, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
“Yes, Dylan,” she whispered.
Chapter Three
The next morning, Ellie woke next to Dylan, his body sprawled across hers. His hand cupped her bare breast, and his head rested on the other. A knock on the door startled her.
“Shhh, lie still, baby.” He drew the sheet over and tucked her against his chest. The sound of a cart being wheeled into the room greeted her ears.
“Good morning Mr. Ford,” came the voice of a young man.
Ellie drew a sharp breath. She was naked and there was another person in the room. She felt Dylan’s protective hand press on her back. The warmth heated her skin, his touch telling her to lie quietly. She submitted, waited, and wondered what the server must think – that the owner of the hotel had some little hussy in his bed.
She tensed and edged closer to Dylan. He wrapped his arm more tightly around her. She heard plates being set out, along with cutlery, the smell of bacon and coffee in the air.
“Just leave it by the window,” Dylan said.
“Yes, sir.”
“And cover the plates. I might not be ready to eat just yet.”
“Yes, sir.”
More clatter. A moment later the door shut.
He leaned down to kiss her neck, her jaw, and finally her ear. “Would my fiancé like to have breakfast and then fuck, or fuck and then eat breakfast? You choose. I’m feeling benevolent.”
She reached up and put her hand over his mouth. Her ring sparkled in the morning sunlight. She pulled her hand back and kissed him.
In the night, he’d woken her, telling her he would take her to the courthouse to marry, first thing in the morning. She’d argued that she couldn’t simply leave the hotel and go straight to the courthouse. How would it look?
He overruled her. Told her she was done sassing and arguing. The dark threats he made in response were all sexual in nature and ended with her tied to the bed with the remnants of her dress. He tormented her wickedly until she took back her words. Then he made love to her, slowly, sweetly, deep into the night and again at dawn. Her body was sore from his attention, and yet his sinful words sparked a flame of need inside her.
She rolled over to face him, holding the sheet. “Dirty mouth.”
He yanked down the sheet to her waist and coaxed her to her stomach. “I sent a note telling the judge to expect us at noon. We have three hours. How do you suppose we should fill our time?”
Brushing her hair to the side he kissed the back of her neck.
She closed her eyes, reveling at the touch of his lips on her sensitive skin, tingles of pleasure racing across her back. “We can do whatever you want.”
“Good girl.” He pressed another kiss a fraction of an inch below. Down her back he traveled, kissing the length of her spine. She shivered when he reached the small of her back. She moaned softly as he moved along the curve of her back, towards her bottom. He caressed her there, giving her a possessive swat.
“Barely pink at all,” he murmured.
“Wicked man.”
He knelt, nudged her thighs apart, and lifted her to her knees. Stroking the head of his shaft against her, she heard him groan.
“So wet…Ellie, you’re going to make me lose my mind.”
He thrust into her and she whimpered. On her hands and knees, she felt wild, uninhibited and erotic as she arched her back to welcome him. The pleasure was instant. His hands skimmed her ribs, then caressed her breasts.
“I love your tits,” he said softly. “When I came for your rent, I imagined pushing you to your work table, ripping your dress to your waist and sucking them.”
She drew a gasp. It was equal parts shock and arousal. He pinched her nipple, drawing another sharp breath from her.
“Sweet girl. Just stepping into your shop made my cock hard.”
“Scoundrel,” she whispered.
He gripped her hips and began thrusting, his movements shallow and playful. “You like it when I say dirty things to you.”
“Beast.”
“Say something dirty,” he ordered.
A breathless laugh escaped her lips. She looked over her shoulder at him. “No.”
He smacked her backside and she shuddered. She tried to rock her hips to encourage him to take her harder, but he held her firmly and controlled the cadence with wicked restraint.
“Ellie.” His voice held an edge of warning. “Say something dirty.”
She bit her lip, shook her head. He spanked her again.
With a cry of indignation, she obeyed. “Something dirty.”
Another smack and he gripped her hips. “Bad girl.”
Driving into her, he gritted his teeth. His pounding made her whimper with
ecstasy. He answered her with a growl and a stroke between her legs.
“I love…this,” she whispered.
“That’s a good start,” he said, his voice a savage snarl.
When he bent to nip her shoulder, her pleasure crested. She mewled. Her climax shook her. He wrung every bit of pleasure from her, taking her harder until finally reaching his own release. His fingertips dug into her hips. She felt his cock pulse inside her and a second wave of pleasure washed over her. He pulled her down to the bed, folding her in his arms.
They’d made love the night before, and in the quiet moments after, he’d withdrawn, grown quiet or fallen asleep. This time, he kissed her, nuzzled her neck and told her how much he loved her, and for how long.
He threw back the covers and strode across the room to retrieve a bowl of strawberries from the cart. He sat on the bed and pulled her to him so he could feed her one crimson berry at a time.
“Naughty girl,” he said softly, holding up a scrap of her dress and dangling it between his thumb and forefinger. “Tell me you’ll make more of these pretty little things.”
She accepted a strawberry from him. She turned in his arms and kissed him, stroking his lips shyly with the tip of her tongue. “Certainly, Mr. Ford.”
THE END
Thank you for reading my story. If you enjoyed this story please consider leaving me a review and signing up for my mailing list at www.alphaandsass.com where I will notify you of future releases, exclusive offers and bonus material. - Alix
Books by Alix West
Claiming the Mail Order Bride
Coming for the Cowboy
Mail Order Correction
Mail Order Discipline
Mail Order Punishment
Mail Order Boxed Set (3 titles)
The Virgin’s Price
The Virgin’s Penance
The Virgin’s Offer
The Virgin’s Confession
The Virgin’s Tale
Western Virgin Bride Boxed Set (5 titles)
Bounty Hunter Discipline
Bounty Hunter Mail Order Bride