1933563060-Devils-Pact-Cruise

by Devil's Pact (lit)

  Though Reed was seldom sick, she desperately wanted to believe Devin. She blamed herself for so long—for Caleb, for Reed, for everything.

  * * * *

  There was one question nagging Devin she had yet to answer. The most important unanswered question heated his blood made him irrational and disintegrated what little control remained.

  “Who is it, Megan?”

  With a puzzled expression, she stared at him.

  “Your lover. Who is he?” Acting on instinct, what she revealed he took as truth. She’d been a virgin when she married Reed, yet a virgin no more. Of that, he was certain. No virgin, even one who saw the things she had responded the way she did out by the river. She’d been eager to part her legs for him. She wanted him to fuck her too damned much that night and not out of an ill-conceived deadly notion. He knew better than believe it was due to tenderness or charming seduction on his part. That just wasn’t him, and it seemed to suit her fine. In addition, the one telltale sign notable in all virgins, the one no woman could ever fake, was nonexistent.

  Pretty Boy took after his father—neither had any sense when it came to women. Touching, that was all either of them were good for. Too bad the elder Mr. Walker was dead, or Devin would pay him a grisly visit tonight.

  That left only one other person. The one she failed to mention. Probably the one she waited for out by the river while the girls slept nearby. The get together was ideal. Once a week, the doctor and Caleb would care for Reed while she snuck off using the girls as her excuse and meet her lover for a little sportin’ out in the woods.

  “I…I…don’t have one.” She shook her head. “There isn’t anyone.”

  “Don’t lie to me.”

  “Devin, please. I’m not lying. You have to believe me.”

  “Then explain why you weren’t exactly virginal if I’m the only man who’s ever fucked you.”

  He sat on the railing, crossed his arms, and waited for her to explain. Taking no notice as the hard rain pelted his back.

  “Take my word for it. You’re the only one.”

  “I find it too hard to believe.”

  Tears began to fill her eyes, yet she didn’t say anything for a long, tense moment. “I don’t care,” she finally whispered so softly, he barely heard her. “I don’t care,” she cried out louder, running down the porch steps.

  “Megan,” he yelled after her. Dressed in black, she would have blended in the shadows if not for her pale arms and golden hair piled in a bun at the nape of her neck.

  “Never! I don’t care what you do. Never again!”

  For a long while, all he could do was stare at her while she ran screaming past the garden straight toward the open field. The wind ripped the fringed shawl from her shoulders. Her soaked slippers immersed in the thick mud as she continued her irrational, wayward escape in her bare feet.

  “Come back,” he hollered as the bolt of lightning and thunder crashed through the bleak darkness.

  “Shit.” Devin jumped over the railing when he noticed not only did she ignored him, she seemed to be in some frenzied state that had her screaming utter nonsense at the top of her lungs.

  “Stop running.” He nearly closed the gap with several long strides in his soaking wet moccasins, sloshing in the mud and grass with each hurried stride.

  “No, no…not again. You can’t force me,” she cried as he reached out for her just before he slipped in a puddle. He landed face down with a grunt, sludge and torn blades of grass spattering his face.

  It suddenly occurred to him—it wasn’t him she ran from. “Megan,” he called out, rising to his feet. He had to catch her before lightning struck her or she caught a deadly chill. Silently he fretted over the dreadful thought.

  He ran faster and took a dive when he came within a few feet of her. He turned in time and caught her in his arms. They landed with him on his back and her on top.

  With all her might, she kicked and clawed, screamed in terror.

  “Megan, it’s me, Devin.” He tried to hold her until she calmed down, but her thin bare arms were so wet, they slipped out of his grip. She pounded his chest, clawed through the thin layer of mud to get to his face. “Megan, it’s Devin,” he said repeatedly, trying to capture her rain-slick arms.

  “Devin,” she finally called out to him. “Devin, you’re here.” She sank against him as if too exhausted to move. Her breathing came fast and her heart pounded so hard he felt it.

  “Yes, Megan, I’m here,” he whispered soothingly, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m here. Don’t worry, no one will hurt you.”

  “Is he gone? Tell me he’s gone. Please.” Her small, feeble voice trembled with uncertain anguish, and his chest tightened with a much stronger emotion.

  “There’s no one but you and me.” He held her body against his, brushing wet strands of hair from her face. “Give me his name, that’s all I need.”

  “It’ll do no good,” she whimpered and his gut clenched in fury. “No one ‘round here listens to a two-bit whore.”

  Devin burned deep in his soul with an inner wrath. His entire body went rigid at those exact words he recalled. It was no range war or cattle rustling among ranches. Reed married her to protect her from the spineless scum who practically owned the town, Leroy Hardin. The man himself was after her, and Reed knew it.

  The first opportunity after Reed’s death, Hardin probably had Jazelle up the price to force her back to work, only this time as his personal prostitute.

  “I’ll take you inside.” His tone held the grim, cold finality he felt as he made a move to sit up.

  She raised her head off his shoulder and laid a hand on his chest to stop him. “I know what you plan to do, but you can’t.” Her voice strained with suppressed emotions.

  He was certain she knew he figured out who it was. “Megan, he hurt you. The bastard will pay.”

  “I want to forget. It was all but forgotten until I was back at Jazelle’s. Devin, if you go over there…I’ll have his blood on my hands. I won’t be able to forget.”

  “You can’t honestly say if I do nothing, you’ll be able to forget.” Hell, he’d never forget, and he wasn’t even there. Didn’t even know when it happened, how many times—nothing. All Devin needed to know was once was more than enough.

  She closed her eyes, and this time, he could see the tears and raindrops pouring down her face.

  Covering her ears as if to block out the memories, shaking her head vigorously, she cried helplessly, “Devin, please make it go away. Make it stop.”

  He sat up and put his arms around her. “Let’s go home.”

  “No, now, Devin. I can’t wait. Help me forget.” Her voice filled with pain, heartache. She tore at his shirt, ripping the soaked material and popping buttons.

  “Megan, I need to get you inside before you freeze...” He didn’t dare voice his concern, tried to capture her hands, but they were like small, slippery snakes.

  He watched, amazed at how fast she tore open the front of her dress. The sight of her creamy breasts, slick with moisture and glowing in a blaze of lightning, stirred him against his will.

  “I can’t wait, Devin.” Straddling him, she lifted her skirt, exposing the plump lips between her thighs. Sitting directly on his rock-hard cock, she ground her pussy into the engorged thickness straining against the front of his saturated buckskins. “Help me to forget. Help me.”

  “Not like this,” he struggled to speak, heard the anguish in her voice. Aware she unconsciously acted aggressive to conquer her fear, when in reality she felt vulnerable and scared. Often he saw the behavior in whores who had been victims of abuse. Either they acted as mere receptacles for a man’s cock or they refused to be a victim, sexualized their anger and took on a more aggressive role to reverse the painful memories.

  Megan wasn’t making his decision any easier by pressing her cunt against his eager hardness, but he never took advantage of a woman’s extreme vulnerability before and he sure as hell wasn’t about to start
now. “You’re sore from yesterday. It’s too soon. Tomorrow. Wait till tomorrow, and I’ll do whatever you want.”

  “No, Devin. I need you now.” She leaned over him, bringing her mouth down to his. Her tongue drove past his lips, devoured him in a needy, urgent kiss that spoke of desperation, loneliness, heartbreak and longing.

  “I’m here. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” Devin broke their kiss and fought to keep his voice level while he welled with bitter fury, anger and frustration. His wrath was aimed toward the man who dared harm an innocent young girl, yet his inbuilt need for revenge was greater. He’d not be satisfied until retribution time.

  “Don’t leave me, Devin. Don’t ever leave me.” Her hands tucked into his loosened shirt. She was so cold, her entire body shook and her teeth chattered.

  He didn’t reply. Curling his body around hers, he did his best to block the cutting sheets of rain from pelting her.

  He carried her inside and stripped them both of their wet clothes. He laid her down on his bearskin in front of the parlor fireplace and built a roaring fire . Then he piled a load of blankets over them, and he used the heat of his body to warm hers. He held her frail body as though she were made of the finest china.

  Chapter 18

  “Mmmm.” Even though he was half asleep, his hips instinctively surged toward a moist heat. A tightening sensation, wetness gripped him, and his cock jerked. “Oh, yes,” he moaned groggily as the slow, sensuous glide moved over his erection and enclosed the head of his cock within a hot, velvety cavern. Firm strokes traveled up and down the length.

  This was an incredible dream he didn’t want to wake from. His breath rose in the pre-dawn hours as the increased pressure rasping against the underside of his cock snapped his eyes open. He stared as Megan opened her hungry mouth and showed him her greedy tongue, lapping that sensitive spot that heightened his raging desire. Damn, he taught her well.

  “Good morning to you, too.” His rough voice carried a touch of amusement. Her eyes, locked with his, seemed to smile back with mischief. In awe, he watched her warm mouth suck down half his cock. Her full lips drew taut until they were thin, pink lines moving up and down his flesh with a firm suction.

  “Oh yeah, that’s it. Suck it hard.” Voice was low, ragged as his fingers clenched in her hair, setting the rhythmic rise and fall of her head. She moaned over the engorged head, sent heated vibrations up his spine. “Harder, baby, and I’ll come for you.”

  She massaged and tickled his balls, and he knew that’s exactly what she wanted, his seed. The understanding stroked his desire, emitting a harsh growl deep in his throat. He increased the tempo, penetrating her mouth with fast and hard thrusts.

  “Swallow it,” he moaned, holding her head in place as the first jet of hot semen shot down her throat. “I want breakfast, too,” he muttered harshly, moments after he laid flat on his back groaning and gasping for air. Eager to return the favor, savor the creamy delights between her thighs he balanced her over his abdomen with her ass toward his face and her pussy hovering over his mouth. Placing a hand along the graceful curve of her back, he lowered her to his chest. “Move for me, baby. Slow and easy. I want to feel those hard nipples brush my skin as I have cream with my sugar.”

  His mouth feasted on her flesh while she followed instructions, writhing sinuously against his skin. His hands splayed over her buttocks and spread her firm cheeks. His gaze locked on the pristine hole, a fresh shade of pink, wrinkled tightly just inches above his nose. He felt his cock grow hard instantly. She took the rigid tool in her hands, running her tongue and fingers up and down the length. Dear, sweet Megan had no idea what he wanted. Her soft moans turned into whimpers of pleasure when his tongue delved into her hot little cunt as he drove her to a feverish peak.

  Afterward, he carried her to bed, parted her legs and plunged inside her docile body. They came together as he drove his cock deep into her silky depths. They repeated the sensual performance several times until they were too exhausted to move.

  With his arms wrapped tightly around her, he dozed in and out of consciousness, not sure if what he heard was Megan or a dream.

  “Promise me, Devin,” she repeated softly.

  Lazily, his eyelids slowly opened. He hadn’t been dreaming, Megan was really begging him not to kill Hardin. It took a moment to gather his thoughts.

  “Megan,” he finally said in husky, sleepy tone. “I can’t make that promise.”

  “It happened a long time ago. It’s too late for revenge now. It would be murder. Besides, it’s his word against mine.”

  “I don’t want to hear it. I take your word, and that’s all that matters. As for Hardin, he won’t ever bother you again.” He was wide-awake now, and he felt her body stiffen at the mere mention of his name. The slimy snake definitely had to pay.

  “Don’t go looking for trouble on account of me.” The vision of him strung up or other horrific possibilities flashed before her eyes. He could read them plain as day. There wasn’t a man alive with a gun strapped on who didn’t have them, only he ignored ‘em. “If anything ever happened to you because of me…I…I…” She buried her face in his chest, soft whimpers escaping the tight confines.

  Devin didn’t say anything for a long while, just held her and listened to the soft sobs as warm tears streamed down his bare chest. He had caused many tears. Never had anyone cried for him.

  “All I say is if you don’t want me to, I won’t go gunning for him. But if the sorry-assed bastard ever comes within sight of me, I’ll kill him.”

  * * * *

  No one mentioned Leroy Hardin’s name during the days that passed while the scratches she’d clawed on Devin’s face healed. She was hardly foolish enough to mistake silence to mean Devin changed his mind—not in the least. He readily escorted the girls to and from school, though Megan was keenly aware of his motives. His efforts to help around the house were an unpredicted touch.

  True to his word and much to her delirious gratification, while the girls were at school, he’d pull up her skirts and take her. Wherever he found her, outside in the garden or on all fours scrubbing the floor, or gathering eggs from the coop, as if consumed by a ravenous need, a greedy, uncontrollable lust, he would ravage her. Not a single inhibition resided in his sexual nature. He used illicit words that made her pulse race when he told her what he wanted. He brought her to the edge of depravity and made her beg for what she needed.

  Each night they fell asleep only after their bodies were sweaty, exhausted, and thoroughly sated. Intimately they learned each other’s bodies, expressing their wants and desires openly as they quietly moved from one carnal position to the next, mindful not to wake the girls. They awoke each morning with a renewed lustful vigor, as though they hadn’t fucked each other in years.

  Not much house cleaning or garden tending was accomplished, but Megan didn’t mind. Her body was in a constant state of arousal. There was no denying she just couldn’t seem to get enough of him and that huge, magnificent cock.

  Yet, in her heart, she could tell Devin waited for any opportunity to find Leroy Hardin and kill him. With different excuses, he went in town more often. Megan could only wait restlessly until the time came when the two finally crossed paths.

  In fear of that day, Megan rushed out of the house as soon as she noticed that Ms. Rosalinda’s carriage pulled around the bend. Since Rosalinda’s arrival in town after completing finishing school in Georgia last year, she was the town’s first schoolmistress. During the past year, not once did she ever come calling, especially on a Sunday.

  Shelby and Emma were quite fond of their teacher. They spoke of her often. At twenty, Rosalinda was close in age to Megan, but, they had little in common. The only time they spoke was at the schoolhouse. Though pleasant enough, the young woman struck Megan as the type to seek female companionship only when it benefited her. She preferred her many male admirers instead which suited Megan just fine.

  “My, what a pleasant surprise.” Megan igno
red the butterflies in her stomach and kept her voice pleasant. Standing on the porch, she spoke quickly, before Rosalinda even brought the fancy black carriage to a halt. “Rosalinda, what brings you out on a beautiful Sunday afternoon? I hope the girls haven’t been troubling you.”

  Rosalina smiled and batted her eyes. To Megan, the pale flush on the well-dressed woman’s cheeks made it appear as if she blushed at the inquiry.

  “Please forgive me for not coming to pay my respects sooner. I’ve been meaning to call on you, but I’ve been so busy with school work and all.”

  “Thank you,” Megan replied, adding a faint smile.

  “The girls are no trouble at all. They are such dears. My dearest students, if truth be told,” Rosalina drawled in her well-honed imitation of a Southern belle.

  “Thank you again.”

  “They are so lucky to have you for a mother. God forbid, a poor widow already. Not to old to chase the little darlings sun up to sun down. It’s a wonder you don’t look more haggard, considering.”

  “Considering?” Megan tried to keep her tone friendly as her smile disappeared, the insult apparent.

  “Losing their father and you lost your dear husband. Perhaps another elderly gentleman may take pity on you and consider you marriageable.” Rosalinda’s eyes flittered over her and around the yard as though she looked for something or someone. “Having family is so important.”

  “Yes, of course,” Megan replied coolly. Internally, she cringed at the frankness of the belittlement, the glib look sweeping over her body that seemed to compare her small-boned petiteness to Rosalinda’s own big-breasted voluptuousness.

  “We must look out for one another, being neighbors and all. Comfort one another in time of sorrow, with open arms.”

  As the other woman became more and more flustered, Megan remained motionless, quiet. She was too busy trying to figure out what Rosalinda wanted.