Grabbing hold of the slick erection poking straight out between his legs, she informed him confidently, “I’m not finished with you yet.”
Chapter 25
“Bears.”
“Wolf.”
“Bears!”
“Wolf!”
“Girls,” Megan chided Shelby and Emma gently as their squabble over which bedtime story they wanted to hear from Devin escalated. “One of your story books would be more appropriate than tall Indian tales.”
“Megan,” Shelby pouted, her bottom lip curing exaggeratedly almost to her chin. “We like the stories. They’re excitin’.”
Megan glanced over at Devin reproachfully, arching an eyebrow.
He quickly lowered his head and tried his best to look preoccupied as he went back to cleaning his six-shooters at the table. He seemed to decide it was best to button his lip, keeping out of the way of arguing females, no matter their size.
Moving to his side, she whispered in his ear, “Coward.”
As she made a move to step away, he took hold of her wrist. With a gentle tug, he pulled her close. His breath was a warm whisper upon her neck. “My courage, along with my strength, was drained outta me this afternoon.”
Blushing at the remembrance of the heated, lustful afternoon they shared with Caleb, she let her free hand casually drop to his lap. Her fingers lightly brushed the soft fabric over his penis. He nearly bolted out of his seat, eyes darting to where the girls sat on the sofa brushing their hair, unaware.
She stared as he stirred to hardness. Her own body grew wet, preparing itself. He mumbled in a low tone through gritted teeth, “Shit, Megan, I gotta tell ‘em a story. What the hell are you doing to me?” He looked up at her, eyes darkening with arousal, despite the exasperation in his tone.
Staring back at him, she licked her lips. Teasing. Tempting. His gaze dropped to her hand moving over his erection as he swallowed tightly. Her finger was slender enough to slip under the bulging fabric between buttons. She scraped the hot, bare flesh beneath with her nail and heard his long intake of breath.
Playing unfair is what she was doing. Sometimes, that was all a woman could do to get her way. Never had he touched her inappropriately in front of the girls. They passed plenty of knowing glances, whispered heated words to one another, “accidentally” rubbed legs under the dining table or brushed hands as they passed the mashed potatoes. Like an old married couple, they never argued or touched in front of the children.
“One of my stories,” she suggested innocently, blocking the girls’ view with her full skirt. She felt his cock jerk as her finger slipped in further. He sighed roughly as she ran the tip over a thick vein.
“Whatever you say.” His knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the table trying to regain control of the part of his body with a mind of its own. Veins in his temples tightened as he shot her a brooding sideways glance.
Megan withdrew her finger and patted the bulge affectionately. She allowed her hand to linger a moment longer than necessary. The heat of his hard flesh burned through his britches and seared her skin. The flesh between her thighs, now slick with her arousal, tightened with awareness. Another hour, and they would be alone, naked and in each other’s arms. She felt giddy at the thought.
She turned and walked away, smiling triumphantly. “Okay, time for bed, girls. Devin’s going to read you the story about the fairy princess.”
Megan held back her laughter when she heard the heavy sigh of frustration behind her.
“Give him a few minutes to put things in order. He’ll come tuck you in,” she added, unable to suppress the amusement ringing in her voice.
* * * *
“Do we hafta hear that story?” Shelby mumbled when Devin pulled the worn book with a frayed binding and torn pages from the girls’ bookshelf hanging on the wall.
“’Fraid so.” He shrugged his shoulders. Leaning over, he tucked the blanket around her after she fell back, letting her head plop on the pillow.
He took a seat at the end of Emma’s bed and cast a fleeting glance over his shoulder toward the bedroom door to see if Megan was within listening distance. The coast was clear.
“Tonight, it’s her story. On the way home from school tomorrow, I’ll tell you a new one about a skunk.”
“Oh, boy,” cheered Shelby.
Raising a quieting finger to his lips, he shook his head. Shelby giggled, then immediately quieted down.
“Don’t let Megan know. She don’t like you tellin’ them stories on account of them Injuns stole her baby brother, Trevor,” Emma informed him with big silver eyes that gleamed with excitement. He estimated they must have heard the story hundreds of times, the images conjured by the raid that took place over ten years ago were still vivid in their innocent, childhood minds, more in fascination than in fear.
Devin treated her with a puzzled look at that interesting tidbit of information. He understood Megan’s brother had been killed along with her parents. Perhaps Emma misunderstood Megan regarding the tragedy. Grisly details may have been deliberately left out, so as not to frighten the girls more than necessary. Either way, he didn’t press further. But the question lingered.
* * * *
It took reading the princess story twice before Emma and Shelby finally dozed off. Afterward, he found Megan in their bedroom soaking in the bathtub.
Locking the door behind him, Devin strode across the room and took a seat on the end of the bed. Resting an arm on his thigh, he leaned over and bobbed the rose petals floating in the bathwater with his index finger.
“You know, you could join me,” she whispered innocently. Abruptly, he raised his gaze and their eyes locked. Dwelling on instinct, he had been unaware of her presence. He couldn’t say the same about her. The look in her eyes was anything but innocent. She was more than aware of his being there. “Unless you’re content playing with rose petals?”
“Megan.” He held his tone low, reserved, devoid of sexual innuendo. He paused, unsure how to broach the delicate subject, brushed aside the vivid arousal stark in her eyes as she blinked up at him, face flush, lips slightly parted in invitation. He rubbed his brow, and as usual, quickly decided to take his customary approach. Face it head on. Bluntly. “Why didn’t you tell me the Comanche took your brother?”
She looked like someone had doused her with ice water. Her skin riddled with goose bumps from head to toe. Her face turned pale and her jaw dropped.
His gut wrenched. He felt like a heel at the pain swirling in her eyes, memories relived by the mere mention of that fateful day. He reached out to comfort her. She pulled back instantly. He was not sure if it was out of distaste or anger. He could see the emotions flooding her eyes, the fear, tension drawing her expression taut.
“I apologize for my lack of whatever the hell you wanna call it. I’m no sweet talker.” He scowled, keeping his tone straightforward, yet low, trying to smooth the damage already done.
Closing her eyes, she sank low in the big, round tub, drawing the water below her chin. She inhaled deeply, paused, and then released it before meeting his gaze.
“It’s all in the past. I’d rather not discuss it anymore.” She averted her gaze once more, staring instead at the top of her knees peeking just above the waterline.
“You may hate me for this, Megan, but I gotta ask. After tonight, if you want, I’ll never mention it again.” He took a deep breath. “What happened that day?”
“Devin, there’s nothing to talk about. He’s gone. My family is gone.” Her voice shook with emotion, the tears welling in her eyes.
“Trust me on this, Megan.” He couldn’t bear for her to look at him that way, to intentionally cause her pain and upset her. But there was a reason. He needed to know. There was a chance her brother could still be alive. Many young children had been taken over the years by various tribes. Beyond the physical, their real families would no longer recognize them. Dependent upon who was doing the telling, lucky ones were raised among them. They l
ived like the red-skinned savages they were now considered by outsiders. Devin knew several. “Sometimes it helps to talk about it. What did he look like? Did he have hazel eyes like yours, or were they blue?”
Sitting up, she closed her eyes once again as if picturing her baby brother.
“Blue,” she described lovingly, a long moment later. “His eyes were blue, and his hair blond. So blond, it was almost white.”
He swallowed, hard. His heart raced, but he kept his expression somber, eyes unreadable.
Raising her gaze to his, she nipped her bottom lip. “All that I have left…”
Devin held his breath.
“…is one red slipper my mother made for him.”
He choked on the lump swelling in his throat.
“Are you okay?” The water splashed in and over the tin bathtub as she kneeled in the center, reached out, and placed a hand on his knee. For a moment, he stared at the dainty, feminine hand, wet and warm on his thigh. Through it all, she still wanted to comfort him. His chest clenched. He didn’t even deserve to be in the same room with her.
Clearing his throat, he rose to his feet and crossed the dimly lit room. False hope wasn’t what she needed now. There was a chance he knew where to locate her brother. He wasn’t about to let on until he was positive. The sooner, the better. Megan had already been through enough heartbreak.
Eyes steady on the black spaces filled the lace curtain cutouts on the far window, which lent an elusive shade as the single candle glowed on a table next to the bed. Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t know how much time passed before he calmly unbuttoned his shirt. “Sorry, Megan, if I upset you. I promise I’ll never mention it again.” If things went as he hoped, it would be one promise he’d gladly break.
After a long pause, he was suddenly became aware of the silence.
His gaze returned to her as he shrugged out of his shirt. He sat on the bed and kicked off his boots, peeled off his socks and lethal trappings. From where he was, he could only see above the rim of the tin tub. He watched her as she sat curled and down low in the tub. The back of her head rested on the edge, and her eyes were closed. Her golden hair was dry and loose ringlets flowed on the outside of the tub. Her slender shoulders covered in dew glistened in the candlelight. Arms rested along the rim on either side as the steam rose above the water, wrapping her in a soft, heated fog.
He felt sinful, depraved stirrings deep in his belly. Damn, he wanted her so badly, he ached with raw need until he couldn’t stand the pain. His body was hot and hard, as if he and Caleb hadn’t already put her through enough this afternoon. He didn’t know where he found the strength, the fucking stamina. But one look at her, and he could lose himself within her tight little body for hours. Apparently, Caleb felt the same, because he, too, kept her busy, screaming through orgasm after orgasm. They both did. Now, the poor thing was tired, ‘bout ready to fall asleep in the bathwater.
Feeling a bit mischievous in addition to the hot-blooded arousal pumping in his blood, he moved to the side of the tub, wearing only his britches.
Her creamy complexion was pinkish from the warmth. Her breasts rose gently. Her nipples were tiny beads almost blending with her areolas. Her stomach was a smooth curve, meager curls between her thighs, did little to conceal the entrance to her sweet treasure.
He smiled down at her, ignoring the lust consuming him. The throbbing stiffness demanded a different kind of wet heat than what she sat in. “Hand me the soap. I’ll lather you up.” His voice was low, but effective.
Her eyes fluttered open, blinking away the slumberous haze. “Mmm,” she purred drowsily, smiling up at him. Her expression was still relaxed, sleepy as she sat up. Suddenly, her gaze came alive with sexual awareness as she noticed his bare chest, the painful past all but forgotten. She licked her lips as he watched her eyes lower, knew exactly where she headed. “Why don’t you join me?” Her voice was breathy, seductive.
His brow rose. He tilted his head to get a good, long look. She spread her bent legs, baring the swollen lips of her cunt and the faint bruising marring her pale thighs. He cringed on the inside, realizing he’d done that to her. Fucking her hard while she stared in the mirror as his cock tore into her. She still had not recovered. At times, he was unable to control the fiercely dominate sexuality he had been cursed with. Inhuman urges and dark desires. Damned, depraved is what he was, befitting the wild beast aching between his thighs, demanding attention.
Not tonight, he told himself, gritting his teeth and fighting back his unnatural needs. “This big ol’ body ain’t gonna fit in that tin cup.”
She rose, and he allowed his eyes to rove over every dripping wet inch of female perfection. Latching on to his waistband, she pulled him close. His gaze snapped to her hand as she cupped his cock and then squeezed, causing him to groan. “We can both stand.”
Looking down at her, he could see the fiery arousal blazing in her eyes, hear her breath quicken. Leaning in closer, she pressed her breasts against his abdomen. He breathed out roughly as he felt the heat of her slick mounds sink into his flesh. His hard-on grew harder as her hand moved up and down his length. He felt his cock jerk beneath her fingers as she raked him with her nails through the fabric.
“Megan,” he growled, trying to remain in control of the untamed lust slamming through his system. “Don’t think we hafta fuck every night. Thought you might want a breather. Caleb and I were a little rough on you this afternoon. Didn’t mean to hurt you, but it’s hard holding back. ‘Specially when you talk dirty. Try to order us. You know how men get.” He shook his head and grinned, trying to lighten the situation and take her mind and hand off his cock before he did what her bruised body wasn’t ready for.
Megan felt the blush rise to her cheeks as she looked up at him. She could see the raw lust in his gaze, as well as the concern. There was an undeniable rivalry for her affections between them. It became even more apparent when she had watched them both in the mirror. Lust had washed over them, strained their expression, darkened their eyes, demanding in their thrusts as they rode her for hours. She couldn’t tell one to do something without inciting the other. She loved it. She relished the intense wicked sensations they aroused within her. Devin knew it. Just as she knew him.
His eyes widened and darkened as she slowly worked the buttons of his fly. She heard his breath catch as she spread the edges apart, heard his groan of relief as she reached in the tight confines and pulled his thick, hard, flesh free
“Devin, I loved what you and Caleb did,” she assured him softly. His eyes were closed, his face flush with arousal. His male scent was enticing, surrounding her with desire. “I’m not complaining.” Holding him with one hand, she stroked him with the other. His hips thrusting slightly toward her, had her pussy clenching in need. “Besides, who said I wanted gentle?”
“You’re not sore?” His voice was strained, desperate, his expression no better. The pulsing heat in her hand extended all the way to her clit. He was hard, eager to thrust into her. She couldn’t help but be moved by his sacrifice. Despite the fact he wanted her, he was willing to go without. But could she?
It took both hands to curl around the shaft in her grasp. “Look at this thing.” She waved the flared tip up at him as his flustered gaze dropped downward. Her hands looked so small, childlike in comparison to the manly flesh throbbing in her small grip. Thick and heavy, hot and hard, silky smooth, she loved the feel of it, holding it in her hands, pushing it between her… “It’s like sticking my arm up my privates. I’m always gonna be sore.”
He grimaced, muttering what sounded like two-bar soap words under his breath.
“A soreness I can’t live without. Along with it comes a whole lotta pleasure.” She smiled, smearing the droplet of semen seeping from tiny slit over the velvet soft flesh. It jerked in her hands, and she resisted the urge to take him in her mouth. She glanced up at him, put a little force in her voice. “So if you don’t take off your britches and give me what I want, then I’m gonn
a—“
“What are you gonna do? Punish me?” His gaze softened, held a wicked gleam, and the blood pumping through her veins raced.
Take a whip to him, tie him up, make him wait to take his release while she pleasured him to the brink. He’d enjoy it all. Devin liked it hard and rough. When she made love to him, he seemed to enjoy slow and easy, as well. Even fucking Caleb in front of him eventually worked in his favor. There was no way to punish him.
“Perhaps you’re right,” she said with feigned sincerity, trying her best to stuff his hard-on back in his britches as his questioning gaze narrowed on her. “After all the romping we’ve done.” She closed his fly best should could, then gave up, leaving the bulging length rising along his abdomen. She waved the task off and looked up at him, fluttering her eyelashes, so very innocently. “My obligations should be settled in full. I think I’ll find a man with a much smaller cock that won’t leave me so sore.”
“Like hell you will.” His voice was a fierce, angry growl as he plucked her out of the water and tossed her on the bed.
She gasped his name, landing in an ungainly sprawl in the middle of the huge bed. The wild look in his eyes made her heart speed up with excitement. She was shocked at how a vain, foolish threat could, shatter his control, affect him so deeply, seemingly pierce his very consciousness.
“It’s never been ‘bout the money.” He wrestled out of his pants, his voice rough and dangerous as his heated gaze washed over her, sending a ripple of arousal crashing through her senses. She scooted back on the bed, closer to the pile of pillows running the width along the top. “You coulda sent me packing after the first time. Deep down, we both knew it.”
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