by Vanessa Vale
I nodded, his nose nuzzling against my nape as I did so.
He sat back on his haunches, his knees between my thighs. Quickly, he tugged off his vest, freed the shirt from his pants, undid the buttons, tossed it to the floor.
Oh my. His chest was muscular and broad, with a a smattering of hair that looked soft to the touch and tapered into a thin line trailing down to his pants. Climbing off the bed, he stood, undid his belt and removed his pants. Before I had an opportunity to glimpse his naked form, he was back between my thighs, propped on his forearm by my head. I glanced down his tanned body. His other hand was holding his...cock in a firm grip, sliding up and down. "I know I said I'd never hurt you. But this might hurt, and there's no way to avoid it. Remember, I'll take you later, but right now you're giving yourself to me."
He guided himself to my entrance as I thought about his words. I was too muddled to understand the difference. When I felt him slip inside, stretching me wide, I stopped thinking all together, just felt him opening me up.
I started breathing hard as I adjusted to him, pushing my hands against his unmoving shoulders. I could feel the springy hairs on his legs tickling my thighs. "Ryder, you're too big. It's too much."
Inch by inch he filled me, slowly, but I couldn't accustom myself fast enough. Shifting my hips, I tried to accommodate all of him, but he was so large!
"I'll fit, baby. You were made for me. I can feel your maidenhead." He nudged forward ever so slightly. Our breaths mingled. His scent was strong, pine and outdoors. He was watching me, his light eyes intent on my face. Sweat dotted his brow, his arms rigid and tight with solid muscle, holding him aloft. We touched only in the most intimate of places. He was being patient. I could tell his restraint was costing him, allowing me time to accept him. "All right?"
"Yes," I said, my voice a hoarse whisper. I felt full, consumed by him.
"Lift up your hips. Give over, baby."
I took a deep breath, my hard nipples rising on the inhale to brush against his chest. I felt it all the way to my toes. Doing as he bid, I lifted my hips off the bed and he pushed forward, thrusting deep in a quick rush.
My head arched back at the exquisite fullness, the stretching, the openness and the burning of being claimed. For this is what it was. A claiming. I was Ryder's and there was no way I could ever forget.
He kissed my cheek, my closed lids. "There now. Was it so bad?"
"No," I breathed. "It didn't hurt, just...uncomfortable." I relaxed my clenched muscles, finally acclimating to his possession.
Once I did, he pulled out a small amount, easing the fullness, but slid home once again. I felt my body relax even more as he rubbed against some place, some secret spot hidden behind my maidenhead. It was even better than when I touched myself, the intensity of the pleasure. Touching myself alone would never be enough now that I knew there was more. So much more.
He moved again. I moaned.
Again. I clenched my knees about his hips.
Once more. I dug my fingernails into his shoulders.
"Ryder, please!" I begged. Exactly for what, I didn't know, only that he alone could give it to me.
Gone was the slow, gentle touch. In its place was a man who was overcome with his baser needs. Pulling almost completely out, with just my lips parting and clinging to him, he rammed home. Over and over. His head lowered to my breast, his tongue flicking and tugging on my nipple. All at once I came, my inner walls clamped down on his probing cock, wringing as much pleasure from him filling me as I could. I screamed and dug my heels into the backs of his thighs, lost, overwhelmed, turned inside out.
With one deep thrust, Ryder buried himself deep within me, body rigid. He practically growled his pleasure as I felt him pulse again and again, filling me hotly with his seed. Lowering himself to one forearm, he kissed my damp brow, ran his hand over it to brush away my damp curls. Instead of pulling free as I'd expected, he rolled us so I lay atop him, still joined.
CHAPTER THREE
Ryder
I fell into a sex-induced sleep, waking to a very pliant, very sated woman sprawled atop me. My cock had slipped from her body, but quickly turned hard once again when I felt her breasts pressed against me. They were full and plump and her nipples were incredible. A soft pink, they tightened at the slightest touch or look and were very responsive. Sensitive. Ellie's skin was so soft, silky even. Her porcelain complexion was a strong contrast to my tanned, weather and work worn skin, making her appear even more feminine, even more fragile than I'd first figured.
Ellie. She wasn't an Eleanor. The name was too prim for my passionate bride. Ellie suited her much better.
Dark red hair fell in a thick curtain over my chest, a vivid hue that seemed almost unnatural. Everything about her was unreal. A fantasy. A fantasy that had come to life. She was my wife, and she was here, naked, upon me. She'd given herself to me, although I wouldn't have offered her much choice if she'd resisted. The point was, she hadn't resisted. She was as fiery as her hair.
I had to have her again. Now. Shifting her spread legs so she straddled me, I moved her until my cock nudged at her slick entrance. My seed still coated her there, making it easy to push her down upon me and fill her.
She came awake at that, her head coming up, her eyes wide with sleepy surprise.
I just lay there, savoring the pleasure of just being surrounded by her slick heat. I'd have to move, but not yet. "Ride me, baby."
Frowning in confusion, her smooth brow crinkled. She had no idea what I meant, so I showed her. With my hands spanning her hips, I gripped firmly, lifting her up and almost completely off my cock, then back down. Her eyes widened and she bit her lip against a moan.
I tilted my chin in her direction; my hands were occupied. "Sit up and ride me. Show me your gorgeous body."
Moving one hand to her shoulder, I helped her rise, watched as awareness spread across her face as she could feel me embedded so deeply. "Oh."
She shifted her hips, trying to settle on my cock. I was big, no question about it. A virgin like Ellie would be untried at handling me. I gritted my teeth at her innocent moves; she was all but killing me. I longed to thrust up into her, over and over until I came, filling her once again. But this was going to be about her body's awakening. I wanted to watch her pleasure take over. Learn what made her hot.
Placing her delicate fingers on my chest, she ran them through the crisp hair there, over my nipples and I swear I grew even harder. "Move, baby," I growled.
Tentatively, she raised up on her knees, lowered back down. I watched, mesmerized by my cock disappearing into her body, her pussy lips opening wide to take me in. Her head fell back, her eyes closed, lost in her motions. Furled nipples begged to be touched, so I moved my hands to cup her breasts, run the pads of my thumbs over them.
Crying out, she started to move faster, but I could tell she was tiring quickly, her body's unsure motions not getting her there. Licking my thumb, I reached between our bodies and found her hard clit, poking out and ready for my attentions. Moving in slow circles, I rubbed her off in a contretemps to the rise and fall of her hips. Her eyes flared open and she stared at me, widening in surprise as I felt her pussy clamp down, pulsing with her orgasm. I held her gaze, watched as she came. Her pupils dilated so the green was almost completely gone, a hot, red flush spread down her neck and over her breasts.
I couldn't hold back my seed any longer. She was squeezing my cock in a tight grip. I was lost, the pleasure starting at the base of my spine, tightening my balls and shooting forth in pulse after pulse of my seed. There was no doubt that I'd marked her as mine.
I was catching my breath, holding Ellie's body close to me once again when someone pounded on the door. Ellie stiffened, her head whipping up and toward the sound. Fear and panic crossed her face and I could see it wasn't from being caught at the tail end of a good fucking. I had all the time in the world to learn what made her tick, but now didn't appear to be the time to start. Was she just modest or was there mor
e?
Whoever was at the door had better be dying or having a baby, because slipping free from Ellie's very hot, very wet pussy was the last thing I wanted to do. Sighing, I slid her onto the bed beside me. I was able to sit up and grab my clothes from where I'd hastily thrown them. "Sorry, baby. Duty calls."
She watched me sleepily as I buttoned my shirt, her eyes focused on my sheriff's star. "It's all right. I understand." Her voice was raspy from her screams of pleasure.
"Rest. The journey was long and I've certainly used you hard. If I'm not back when you wake, come down to the jail. You remember seeing it?"
She nodded as the pounding started again. "Sheriff!" Murphy called out. An old and trustworthy friend, I deputized him to help with keeping the peace. Something must require my attention with Baxter, the man being held in the single jail cell awaiting the circuit judge and the gallows for murder. The man wasn't going anywhere until at least Tuesday, but he was no doubt going to be a pain in my ass until then.
Only a sheriff would be interrupted from fucking his new bride. I'd had her twice, but that wasn't nearly enough. The last thing I wanted to do was leave her. Naked. I bit back a curse and leaned down to kiss her brow. If I kissed her anywhere else I'd never get to the door.
"Go," she told me, her voice soft. "I'll be fine." I took one last look at her lush body before I turned and left, cursing under my breath the whole way.
Ellen
I awoke disoriented and confused, not knowing where I was. The room was unfamiliar and I was naked. And then it all came back - every caress, every lick, every thrust. My body felt loose, relaxed and achy. I was sore in places I never imagined. But I felt...good. Very good.
The sun had shifted in the sky, the soft light through the window the only indication to the time of day. I listened to the quiet; Ryder had not returned. How long had I slept? I felt exposed, being naked in a strange place without Ryder, so I found and donned a clean dress from my bag he'd left by the door. Mrs. Bidwell had given each of us - Caroline, Emily and me - small packages to give to our prospective husbands. Unopened, the package was travel worn and a mystery to me. I placed it on the table for Ryder to open upon his return. Standing at the mirror on the wall above an ewer of water and a basin, I freshened up, using a cloth to wipe the sticky essence between my thighs, noting the tinge of blood, then tidied my hair and pulled it back into a simple bun.
Venturing out of the house, I took in my new surroundings. Vast prairie land. Tall, waving grass. Vast, open sky. Quiet. No gas lamps, no loud clomping of horses' hooves on cobblestone streets. No people. It was desolate in the most beautiful of ways. The air was a touch cooler than earlier, the sun having moved to hang just over the western horizon. I made my way from the house down a worn, narrow path through the grass to the main road, and then turned toward the jail. Hearing raised voices, I knew Ryder was there and was instantly reassured.
The jail was not big, but made of cut stone to make it more secure than a building of wood. I didn't know where the material had come from - there were no mountains nearby - but I was too unfamiliar with the area to know of alternatives. Small windows on the front and sides had bars upon them. I pushed at the heavy door, leaning into it with my shoulder. It gave all at once, and I practically fell into the room. What I saw when I caught my balance was unexpected and I gasped.
There were three men in the room, Ryder with his hands out in front of him in a placating gesture by a desk. The second man held the third securely about the waist, gun nudged against his waist. The one at gunpoint was shorter than Ryder, but stockier. His expression was grim, but calm.
The man holding him hostage, however, had seen better days.
Ryder's gaze flicked to me, but he kept his focus trained on the man with the gun. "Eleanor, turn around and leave. Now!" He barked the last and I jumped at his tone.
"I can't leave you like this!"
"Go!" he bellowed.
Before I could react, the man turned the weapon on me.
"Oh, now, what do we have here?" The man was in his forties, with dark hair that hung limp and greasy over his forehead and ears. His clothes were worn and dirty and the look in his eye showed he had little fear. I didn't know his circumstances, but it appeared hurting any or all of us would not change his predicament. Escape was his only solution. As I stood in the doorway, I certainly was in his way of doing just that.
I backed up a step and closer to freedom, my breath lodged in my throat.
"You don't want her involved in this, Baxter." Ryder's voice was deep, even and all business. He moved sideways so that he blocked me. No! I didn't want him to get shot. I wanted to reach out and grab hold of him - to reassure myself, yet somehow try to protect him - but he was out of reach. It was then that I saw the gun pressed against his back, securely tucked into his belt.
"Put the gun down, let Murphy go and we'll tell the judge not to hang you," Ryder told him. I couldn't see the man Ryder called Murphy around his large frame, but he'd been as solid and broad as my husband. I assumed the only reason Murphy didn't do something about the much smaller assailant was the weapon trained on him. A gunshot here in August Point meant certain death.
"I'll hang no matter what you say, so let's see that pretty filly behind you. With all that red hair, I bet she's a feisty one in bed."
Ryder stepped back and grabbed hold of my side, his grip tight, yet reassuring. How he did it without looking back at me, I didn't know. He then nudged me sideways toward a large desk strewn with papers, his body tense, keeping me safely and completely behind him. "That's my wife you're speaking of."
I glanced around Ryder's shoulder and saw surprise on both men's faces. I didn't know either one, but it was clear they both knew Ryder, and had known him to be a bachelor. Until now.
Murphy didn't move, just narrowed his gaze at Ryder. I saw my husband's head nod imperceptibly. Before I could even blink, Ryder had pulled the gun from his back, Murphy threw his body to the side and down. Ryder shot Baxter, square in the forehead. Baxter's body moved back as if kicked by a mule, blood and parts of his head splattering behind him, then fell with a thud to the ground.
My ears rang and the smell of gunpowder filled my nostrils. Ryder and the other man moved at once to Baxter's prone form, confirming what I was sure they already knew. He was dead. I was frozen in place, bile crawling up the back of my throat, clogging my ability to breathe. The sight of part of the man's head missing made me want to retch. Little black dots swarmed like bees in my vision. Ryder spun around, came to my side and hauled me out into the fresh air.
He bent at the waist and grabbed my shoulders so we were eye level. "Are you hurt?"
For some reason, it suddenly felt cold, when only a few minutes before was warm. I shook my head, a bit dazed, and thankful to be out of the jail and away from the carnage. Yanking me towards him, Ryder pulled me into a tight embrace, his arms banding about me, holding me securely. I couldn't escape his snug grip even if I wanted to. His warmth seeped into me and I heard the steady thumping of his heart. I had no idea it could ever be such a reassuring sound.
"Murphy?" Ryder said, his voice still rough, in direct contrast to his gently, yet firm, hold.
"I'm fine," the man called out, coming up behind us.
His footsteps had me tensing. Not Ryder. Instead, he remained calm and cool. He kissed the top of my head. "Go get Barnes," he told Murphy.
Ryder wouldn't allow me to turn to see the other man. He wouldn't let me move at all.
"Ma'am," Murphy murmured, before I heard his footsteps retreat.
"Who's Barnes?" I asked, my cheek against Ryder's chest. His scent was stronger now, clinging to him as much as I.
"Undertaker." He pushed me back none too gently so he could look upon me again. A tick pulsed in his jaw and he looked...fierce. "Why didn't you do as I said?" His voice was a thundering boom, yet quiet. How could that be possible?
My mouth fell open. Anger etched his words, lined his face with dark shadows. "I--"<
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"You could have been hurt, killed even. When I tell you to do something, you do it." His fingers squeezed my shoulders with as much fervor as his words. "No questions asked. Understand?" He shook me a little, as if he thought I wouldn't comprehend the words otherwise.
I hadn't intentionally defied him. It had all happened in a matter of seconds. That man, Baxter, had held a gun and I didn't want my husband to be shot. I'd only just met him. Only hours before! But Ryder didn't seem to want an argument at the moment, so I agreed. "Yes. I understand." I let the tension leave me along with the words.
He eyed me carefully, thoughtfully, his face still a hard mask. "No, I don't think you do." Grabbing my hand, he tugged me toward our little house. I ran to keep up with his long, fast strides.
"What are you doing?" I cried out, winded, almost tripping over a small stone.
"Punishing you."
I stopped walking at his words and almost fell over as Ryder kept going. He pulled me back up, ducked down so that his shoulder went into my belly and my whole world upturned. He'd thrown me over his shoulder! As he continued to storm toward the house, I fought him, pummeling my hands against his back, but it was like hitting a brick wall. "Punishing me? Why?"
"Because you argued with me when there was a man with a gun. You had no thought to your self-preservation and I couldn't help Murphy or myself very easily once I had to think about protecting you."
He opened the door, walked through, then kicked it shut with one booted foot. I slid down his body as he lowered me to the ground and I felt every hard inch of him. "Ryder, I - "
Holding up one finger, he closed his eyes and took a moment. Took a breath. Tension and unleashed power radiated off him like heat from a fire. He was holding back...for me, yet I was still fearful of his intentions. Punishment?
"Turn around and lean over the table."