The next time he thrust into Ella, her overheated body responded exactly as he wanted it to. He spanked her hard, and the sound of his palm brightening her buttocks mingled with Ella’s garbled, keening cry of orgasmic ecstasy.
Dirk thrust into her one more time, then withdrew. With the thick shaft of his cock wedged in the cleavage of Ella’s buns and pressed against his own torso, he released a deluge of semen, the thick streams arching through the night air to leave gooey lines from her shoulder blades to buttocks.
When Dirk released his tight hold on Ella’s hips and hair, she groaned and collapsed onto her stomach in the grass, cradling her head in her arms.
“Are you all right?” Dirk asked with quiet sincerity. It was easy being rational after an extremely satisfying orgasm but significantly less so prior to the orgasm. He was aware of his own potential for brutish behavior and of his limited ability to control it.
Her words came out muffled as she replied, “I didn’t know...getting fucked and spanked...could feel that good.” While remaining on her stomach in the grass, she put a hand to the small of her back and groaned. “Thank you for not coming inside me.” She sighed. “I can’t believe I’m using language like that.” She chuckled softly. “I’m going to hell for this.”
“You’re welcome.” Dirk grinned, relieved he hadn’t hurt Ella or disappointed her in any way. “And you’re not going to hell.”
“You men released enough sperm to impregnate every woman west of the Mississippi.”
Ben smiled. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be.” Ella pushed herself up onto her side, propping an elbow beneath her. She touched a spot of cum on her breast and rubbed it slowly between forefinger and thumb. “I don’t suppose either of you men happened to pack along with you a nice, hot bath?”
“No hot bath but we have a stream that’s very convenient,” Dirk replied.
“And icy cold. I know the creek. It is spring fed, crystal clear, and cold even in the height of summer.” She touched the cum on her stomach. “Ugh! What choice do I have?”
* * * *
Rosamond leaned back in her chair, took a small sip of very sweet tea, stared up at the ceiling, and considered having another cookie. Her awakening sense of passion seemed to have aroused her sweet tooth, as well. She was feeling quite content, which was a reasonably new sensation for her. Ella was away from the T-3 Ranch doing something. Rosamond didn’t know what, and didn’t care, so long as it kept her daughter in Fargo. There was always less tension for Rosamond whenever Ella was away from the house. And Rosamond disliked tension.
Best of all, Tim would be riding over the following afternoon. With luck, Ella would stay away from the ranch, allowing Rosamond an afternoon of passion with her daughter’s fiancé.
When she was married, Rosamond had not enjoyed sex at all. Her husband was a big, powerful man. Additionally, his penis was large and did not give her much pleasure.
But with Tim, the act of sex felt much better. He wasn’t nearly so well-endowed. At the age of forty-two, Rosamond was eighteen years his senior. When she was young, she accepted as irrefutable fact that there was nothing particularly flattering about a man her own age lusting after her. Now, having matured, to have a young man desiring her appealed greatly to Rosamond’s sense of self-worth. And it was particularly exciting to know she was being seduced by her daughter’s fiancé. Though Tim hadn’t been able to inspire her to climax yet, the three times he crawled between her thighs and put his erection into her inspired the most excitement Rosamond had ever known.
A smile touched her lips. She looked out the window. Night had fallen, and only the thinnest sliver of moonlight showed. The only time she enjoyed the prairie was at night when darkness made the vast expanse invisible.
How entertaining it was to be seduced by her daughter’s fiancé.
Chapter Four
It was the crackle of a campfire and the low murmur of masculine voices courteously kept low that greeted Ella as she awoke in the morning. Without moving, she blinked her eyes several times to clear her vision and reorient herself with her surroundings. The sun was up, but it hadn’t been for long.
Were the events of the previous evening nothing more than a very evocative dream? Had she really surrendered herself completely to the passionate, forbidden advances of two of the territory’s most notorious Lotharios?
She was fully dressed but without her boots and wrapped snuggly in her bedroll. Turning her head just enough to look toward the campfire, she found Dirk and Ben seated beside it. A coffee pot and a small cast iron pan were in the flames. Both men held tin cups, and while they spoke quietly, watched the pot carefully.
Ella smiled. Her men obviously held a deep affection for their morning coffee, one that probably bordered on an addiction. So did she, but judging by the way they looked at the blue enameled coffee pot, she suspected she didn’t have the same devotion as Ben and Dirk. But then, they probably went without sleep a lot more nights than she, so their mornings more often required heavy doses of caffeine.
When Ben glanced in her direction, their eyes met. His spontaneous smile was beatific and unguarded. Ella felt heated embarrassment instantly rush through her system. Her intemperate sexual response to their passion only hours earlier was an act of complete irrationality, and she wasn’t at all certain what to say to them in the cold, bright light of morning.
“Good morning, Ella,” Ben said, his chocolaty eyes alive with bonhomie. “We were wondering how long you were going to sleep.”
Ella pushed herself to a sitting position. She ran fingers through her sleep-mussed, honey-blond hair, and the move caused her unbound breasts to sway slightly beneath her blouse. Both Ben and Dirk took notice of her bosom, their eyes instantly taking on a covetous quality.
Memories of being in their arms, and most significantly of Ben ripping her camisole in two, came rushing back to the forefront of her consciousness. Though she could never openly admit it, the act of Ben tearing her clothes to get to her naked breasts excited her nearly to climax. She had never felt so overwhelmed by masculine force, nor so desired.
“I’m sorry,” Ella said after several seconds when the silence was worse than fumbling for words. “I’m delaying you, aren’t I?”
Dirk said, “No need to be sorry. I never start my work day without having my coffee first.” His pale blue eyes caressed Ella with a familiar intimacy that was simultaneously exciting and uncomfortable. “I’ve got to let you know it’s damn nice setting eyes on you first thing in the morning.”
“Damn nice, indeed,” Ben chimed in.
Ella slipped her knees beneath her. She was finding it distinctly uncomfortable to look either man in the eyes. While resisting the urge to cross her arms over her breasts, she looked at her saddle on the ground beside her tethered Appaloosa mare. Inside her saddle bags she had a spare camisole.
She asked, “Do I have time to get freshened up?”
“Of course.” Dirk pulled on a leather glove and moved the coffee pot a little further to the flames. “Don’t take too long. Coffee’s almost ready.”
Ella discreetly recovered her spare camisole before walking swiftly to the creek. If she thought putting some distance between herself and the men would cool her feverish thoughts, she was sorely mistaken. She went to the stream in the exact spot she’d gone the night before when she’d needed the clear water to bathe her heated body as she washed away the passion of multiple male orgasms.
Kneeling at the edge of the stream, Ella cupped water in her hands and splashed her face. The chill of the water made her shiver, but it wasn’t temperature alone that shocked her. With her eyes closed, memories of washing semen from her stomach and breasts, from her back and buttocks, returned with such vivid sexual clarity that for Ella it was as though she was cleansing herself from her licentious labors all over again.
Would the men want to talk about what the three of them had done the previous evening?
Part of Ella wanted nothi
ng more than to banish all memories of last night’s behavior from her thoughts forever. But another part of Ella wanted to once again experience the unalloyed, teeth-rattling excitement she felt when Ben and Dirk collectively unleashed all their considerable charm and sensual skill upon her.
Ella’s conflicted emotional state was as unsettled by the time she returned to the campfire as when she left. Her fear that the men would tell jokes about what they’d done, or in some way belittle either her or their collective behavior of the night before turned out to be entirely unwarranted. After handing her a steaming cup of coffee, the men returned to their conversation, only occasionally giving her friendly but not salacious smiles.
These were serious men who had a job to do, and their dedication heightened her appreciation of them.
“Blue’s the best tracker in the territory. No one else is close,” Ben said, cutting a line in the air with his hand as though to ward off any dispute. “I know he’s on the expensive side, but he’s our best bet at finding the rustlers, and he’s a hell of a lot cheaper than letting the rustling continue.”
“Easy, my friend,” Dirk replied, his grin disarming. “I’m agreeing with you.” He turned toward Ella. “You know Blue, don’t you? Best tracker in the territory.”
“Yes. My father hired him several times and had nothing but praise for both the man and his abilities.”
“It’s settled then,” Ben said, handing a coffee cup to Dirk. There were only two cups, and Ella had one, which forced the men to share. “We’ll break camp and head out for Blue’s homestead. His place is too far to reach today unless we push it way too hard, but we’ll get there by noon tomorrow.” He looked at Ella. “Those plans work for you?”
“You men seem to know a lot more about certain things than I do,” Ella replied, her voice just a little softer than she planned. Though she had not intended the ambiguity, she realized her words could be misconstrued. The awareness that she had at least one more night alone with these two men was not without elements of both unease and anticipation. “I guess until we find the rustlers, I’m in your hands.”
“Interesting,” Ben said.
“Very interesting,” Dirk added.
Ella was quite interested, too, though she hoped to keep this information to herself.
* * * *
Gunnar van Gild looked at the attractive, young woman seated in his spacious living room and wondered whether his son was in trouble. Though he allowed his son quite a bit of freedom and didn’t inquire too deeply into his romantic affairs, he was quite certain that Dirk and Marian Ludgaard were lovers. At least they had been lovers the previous winter. Gunnar wasn’t blind to the nature of his son’s peripatetic love interests.
“You’re looking lovely, Miss Ludgaard,” Gunnar said as he entered the room. “Can I get you a libation?”
“Are you having anything?”
“I don’t think it’s too early for some red wine, do you?”
She smiled sweetly. “I’ve heard you have a wonderfully well-stocked cellar.”
Gunnar took a chair facing Marian, who sat on the long, leather sofa that faced the fireplace. He gave the bell pull a yank, and a servant instantly stepped into the room. “Two glasses of the red wine that was opened for last night’s supper.”
The butler disappeared without making a sound.
“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve come without notice,” Marian said. She had a smile that opened most doors. “I was hoping to speak with Dirk.”
“My son’s away from the ranch for a couple days.” Gunnar considered just how much information he should give Marian. “Perhaps there’s something that I can do for you?”
The butler reentered the room. Gunnar noted that Marian stopped talking as the wine glasses were set before them. Whatever brought her to the ranch, she didn’t want to speak of it in front of the servants.
When they were again alone, Marian said, “You said that Dirk had some business away from the ranch for a few days. Did he go alone?”
“Actually, he’s with Ben.” There were secrets hidden in Marian’s lovely eyes. Gunnar could see they were there, though he couldn’t glean the specifics. “They’re looking for clue as to who has been rustling cattle from the T-3 Ranch.”
Marian’s smile was subtle. “Rather generous of you to volunteer the services of your son to help Ella of the T-3, isn’t it?” She looked away for a moment. “With Tim Cutler taking on more duties at the T-3, it’s no wonder she needs help from Ben and Dirk.”
Gunnar was silent for several seconds before he replied, “I don’t know what she sees in that man.”
“From what I’ve heard, Rosamond arranged everything. Ella just sort of did what she was told to do.” Her gaze leveled on Gunnar’s. “So, it’s just Ben and Dirk, then?”
“To the best of my knowledge, yes. Why do you ask?”
“Yesterday, three riders cut through Daddy’s land in Southridge Valley. It was two men. One a big blond man sounding an awful lot like Dirk and one a man not quite so big with rather long, dark hair.”
“That would be Ben.”
“Yes. But they were riding with a woman.” She took a sip of wine as though to fortify her courage. “A blonde woman riding an Appaloosa. I’ve just been to the T-3 Ranch, and Rosamond told me that Ella has been gone for several days. Some errand she had to do in Fargo, or something like that.”
In a guarded tone, Gunnar asked, “And you think Ella’s riding with Dirk and Ben?”
Marian shrugged, feigning nonchalance that didn’t fool Gunnar. “I was just wondering how much time Ella’s been spending with your son, that’s all.”
“Not much. At least, not much that I know of.” He wondered if Marian was carrying his grandchild. “Why do you ask?”
“Your son and I are…um…very good friends.” She looked away. “I understand that Dirk has quite a number of women who could be considered very good friends.” She cleared her throat, made eye contact for the briefest of moments before looking away, then took another sip of wine. “You see, I’m quite aware that I’m not your son’s only good friend,” the inflection she used left no room for misunderstanding, “but I’d rather his other good friends weren’t my personal friends.” She inhaled deeply, held her breath for several seconds, then exhaled slowly. Turning her head slowly, she looked Gunnar directly in the eyes. “May I speak bluntly?”
“I think it would be best if you did.”
“You see, your son is in considerable demand among women seeking...masculine entertainments. I’ve never felt that I had claim to Dirk’s exclusive attention. Having said that, the notion that your son would be entertaining personal friends of mine, and perhaps talking about me to those very same friends, is distinctly unsettling.”
Gunnar fought the urge to smile with relief. He said, “Let me ask you a question. In all the time that you and my son have been, as you say, good friends…has he ever betrayed a confidence or spoken in an intimate fashion of his other ladies?”
Marian paused for a moment, staring off into space. After several seconds she replied, “Ladies? You’re a forgiving man, sir. But you know, now that I think about it, when he’s been with me, he’s never spoken of any woman but me.”
“And I’m sure he maintains that decorum with his other good friends.”
Gunnar kept the sigh of relief relatively silent. Understanding that all Marian was worried about was being sexually compared to her good friend Ella was eons easier to accept than learning he was about to become a grandfather. What was now of significant concern to Gunnar was that his son, apparently, could be in some sort of a relationship with Ella Murphy, after Dirk had been specifically ordered to not consider the young widow as a potential sexual conquest.
Marian asked, “You’re sure?” Her eyes were bright with hope.
“My son may be intemperate, but he is not insensitive.”
“It’s just that Ella is such a very good friend and…” Her words drifted away.
“And there’s no reason she shouldn’t remain a good friend.”
* * * *
“Don’t come any closer,” Ben said in that quietly commanding way of his. “I want to be able to look at you.”
“To see all of you,” Dirk added, his tone laced through with lascivious intent, “when you touch yourself.”
The men reclined in indolent sprawls near the campfire, each leaning back against his saddle. In the half light of dusk, cast in the flickering glow of the campfire, Ella thought they looked exactly like what they were: princes of America’s new frontier, handsome men of wealth who were as experienced with sitting in boardrooms as they were sitting around campfires. In town, the men enjoyed their whiskeys in crystal goblets, but around the campfire, they drank them from tin coffee cups.
She smiled at the men and took another step closer, wanting them as much as they obviously wanted her. Ella was surprised when Dirk raised his hand, motioning for her to stop.
“If you don’t do as you’re told, I’ll put you over my knee and spank that sweetly rounded ass of yours.”
Ella almost said that such a punishment wouldn’t be much of a deterrent, since she’d probably climax stretched out over his lap with her pants down around her knees and her naked ass up and exposed. Getting a spanking created as much ecstasy as agony.
“I noticed you sneaking away this morning to put on your chemise,” Ben said, unbuckling his gun belt and setting it on the ground within quick reach. “I was disappointed you put it on. I like watching the way you move beneath your blouse.”
The breath caught momentarily in Ella’s throat. Her breasts were a constant source of low-level anxiety. “I move too much.” A light blush crept up her cheeks. “And riding a horse can be uncomfortable without support.” In an accusatory tone, she added, “After all, you ripped off my lingerie.” Insecurities over her weight and the size of her breasts came rushing to the surface of her consciousness. She could feel the men looking at her, and the urge to cross her arms over her breasts was very powerful. “Tim tells me I’m too big...only that’s not really the word he uses. He calls me—”
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