Holding Court

by Celeste Rupert

  Clara bounced her hips against him, trying to make him go faster—she needed him to go faster, she was so close. She tried to reach him, but her hands were still firmly tied. “Court,” she managed to say, but couldn’t find any other words. “Court.”

  As though he’d read her mind, he picked up speed and force, pumping into her. He gathered her long hair into his fists, pulling her head back while he held her hips still for him. He yelled something she couldn’t understand and pounded into her, against the heat of her tender bottom, her nipples rubbing on the wool blanket, shooting pain and pleasure and sensation to her cunt, to her face, to her fingertips.

  Clara was lost. She screamed, long and loud, and bucked under him as he slammed into her and came too, then collapsed on top of her.

  Chapter Six

  Clara’s hips jerked, rocking away the last of her orgasm as Court flipped her onto her side and kissed her.

  “You having fun?” he asked, trying to regain his breath, as his body began to recover from the exertion. Court reached behind her and loosened her wrists, massaging away the marks from her bonds.

  “You know I am.” Clara kissed under the edge of his jaw and he delighted in the feel of her soft lips against the sensitive skin.

  He folded her in to his body, and Clara snuggled into the expanse of his chest. “I missed you.” He spoke against her hair, the silky strands tickling his lips.

  “Me too,” Clara said. “It was too long this time, too long since to you came to me.”

  Court tightened his arms around her. Clara was right, it had been too long and now, with her warmth and softness curled against him, he wondered how he was going to leave her again. “Definitely too long, I’m sorry.”

  “You’re here now.” Clara snuggled closer. “And we have all night.”

  “It’s just been so hard to get away.” Court breathed in the scent of her hair. She smelt of lavender. Always of lavender. “First it was the round up, which never goes smoothly with old Tennant involved, trying to lay claim to any calf not sucking a branded cow, and then you heard about the rustlers? That took some time to deal with, and now there’s Sheriff Bonner visiting every other day and telling me that this town needs a proper mayor, and if I don’t run it’ll be Tennant, and no one wants that. And then this storm.” He paused, listening for the wind. It was dying down as morning grew near. That was a good sign—maybe it was over for now. “Maybe I shouldn’t have left, but I needed to see you.”

  Clara stiffened away from him, taking her warmth with her. “If you have to go…”

  “No.” Court pulled her back against him, but she was tense in his arms. He cursed himself for bringing it up. “I’m just sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

  Clara didn’t say anything, but the air around her was suddenly heavy with tension.

  “What are you thinking?” Court could practically hear the wheels turning in her brain.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Clara.” He lowered his voice. “Or do you want to be punished?” He kneaded the tender flesh of her ass.

  Clara giggled and wiggled against him and Court relaxed a little. “Well, maybe, but that’s not the point.”

  Court pulled back so he could see her and he touched her face, her skin unbelievably soft beneath his fingers. “What is it?”

  “I was just thinking that this whole situation was your decision.” She sat up, out of his reach. “You always say that you’ve missed me, but it was you who said we couldn’t tell anyone, that they wouldn’t understand our arrangement.”

  “I did,” Court said. “They wouldn’t—”

  “But I was willing to risk it and I still am.” She held her clasped fist to her chest and Court watched the movement of her breasts. “I think you’re worth the risk, but if you’re not sure then maybe we should…” She hesitated, swallowing hard. “Maybe we should forget it.” Her voice trailed off at the end, until the final word was barely audible.

  Court scrambled to his knees and took her hands. “No.” He ducked his head to try to look her in the eye. “No, I know it was me that put the boundaries on this and I did it to protect you. Your job, your respectability…” He was appalled to see tears tracing down her cheeks, shining in the dim light of early dawn. “I don’t want this to be over. I need you.” He smoothed his thumbs over the backs of her hands, his heart beating in his throat as he waited for Clara to respond.

  Finally, at last, she slowly nodded. “I don’t want this to be over either.”

  Court kissed her then crushed her to him, feeling an unbearable urge to hold her, to make her his, as though he’d nearly lost her. He revelled in the way her curves yielded to his strength, the way they fit together like pieces of the same puzzle, like they belonged. He marvelled at her strength, the way she met him with everything she had, and the way she allowed him to overpower her, thrilled to his dominance like no woman he had ever known.

  He rolled back on the bed, pulling her along with him, until he lay with her held to his chest. She adjusted to the position without breaking the kiss, straddling him so that her heated centre cradled his cock, which responded in such a rush it made him dizzy. He ran his hands over her slender back and smooth waist. He squeezed her bottom and she rocked against him, hot and wet and oh so ready for him. Always ready to welcome him into her body.

  Clara lifted her hips away from him and Court put a hand between their bodies to guide himself into her as she eased onto his cock, until she was fully seated on him, hard and aching, deliciously squeezed by her channel.

  “So tight,” Court said with a growl, holding her in place with his hands on her hips.

  Clara dropped her head to nuzzle at his neck. “So big and hard.” She rotated her hips in a circle and made him gasp. “Court, you fill me up.”

  Court guided her up until only the head of his cock remained inside her, then he released her. She eased up before she slowly sank back down, a slight smile on her face as she met his eyes. He didn’t usually leave her in control of their lovemaking and he fought the urge to move, forcing himself to lie still, to give her this opportunity. Clara repeated the movement, agonisingly slow, and Court clenched his hands into hard fists to keep from grabbing onto her, holding her in place and pounding up into her, making her his once more. He watched her ride him, her breasts swaying, her lush lower lip caught between even, white teeth as she worked up and down, raking one hand through her hair.

  Clara leaned over him as she picked up the pace, bracing herself with her hands on his chest, rocking faster, and Court focused on watching the show of her curves dancing and bouncing before his face, to distract himself from the exquisite friction she was creating.

  “Court,” she said, panting. “Court, it’s not enough, I want to be under you, and want your strength, I need…”

  He didn’t give her time to finish her thought, if there had been more she’d wanted to say. Court wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her hips to his to keep their connection as he tipped her over, rolling her beneath him on the bed and thrusting hard at the same time, as deep as he could get. She yelped at the sudden movement.

  “Like this?” He picked up the rhythm, hard and fast. “Is that how you like it, Clara?”

  “Yes!” She squirmed beneath him, her hair flying as she flung her head back and forth. “Yes.”

  “Tell me.” Court put his palms on either side of her face, holding her still to meet his gaze. “Tell me what you want.” He deliberately slowed his rhythm to make her ask for what she wanted.

  “Harder,” Clara gasped, working her hips up and down, trying to speed his rhythm with her own. “Faster, oh please, hard and fast and rough.”

  Court grinned, keeping her face trapped, losing himself in the longing, the need in her eyes. “Rough, eh?” He pounded into her with as much force as he could, and she screamed beneath his onslaught, her eyes drifting closed. “Like this, Clara?” Court asked, his voice uneven with the movement and effort. “Is this
what you wanted?”

  “Yes!” Her voice was raw and loud, the word torn from her throat. “Yes, don’t stop. Oh please…”

  She vibrated beneath him, her mouth open in a silent scream as her tight little cunt squeezed at him with the force of her orgasm, milking him with each tremor. His balls contracted close to his body and the whole of his being rushed to centre on his cock. Then he came with a roar, thrust once more and emptied himself inside her.

  Court collapsed on top of her, his face buried in her neck, listening to her pant beneath him, and he wanted to tell her that he was never going to let her go. He thought of her present, of the small bundle tucked carefully in the pocket of his coat, and didn’t say anything. Not yet—he had to do this right. If he played this wrong, he could lose her forever, and he didn’t know how he would live with himself if he lost her.

  Chapter Seven

  Clara awoke gradually, squinting against the light. The storm was over, based on the brilliance of the sun filtering through her thin curtains. Court lay against her back, warm and solid, with one arm curled around her waist, holding her tight. Clara thought for a moment how nice it would be to wake up like this every morning. She squeezed her eyes shut to block out the light and the wayward idea—Court had made it clear that this was the only place for her in his life. She might want more, but she wasn’t really willing to lose what she had, despite her strong words the night before. If this part of his life was all he had to give, then she would be grateful to have it. She lay still, enjoying the moment and wondering what had awoken her.

  There was a solid knock at the door. Clara sat up fast, clutching the blanket to her chest.

  “Miss Clara?” The voice was muffled through the door and was followed by another knock. “Miss Clara, it’s Sheriff Bonner, you all right in there?”

  Clara shook Court’s shoulder. “Wake up,” she said, trying to keep her voice low enough that the sheriff wouldn’t hear. “Wake up, the sheriff’s here!”

  Court rubbed one palm sleepily over his face, his other hand absently finding her hip. “Bonner? What the hell would he be doing here?”

  The knocking continued. “Miss Clara? I just wanted to make sure you were faring all right after this storm, out here all by your lonesome like you are,” the sheriff unknowingly answered Court’s mumbled question. “Miss Clara?”

  Court slid out of bed and reached for his trousers. “You might want to cover up.” He winked at Clara. “Looks like we’re about to have company.”

  Clara grabbed her robe, fumbling to get the tie back through the loops and secured around her waist by feel, while she stared at Court. “But he’s going see you, he’s going to want to know why you’re here…”

  Court cut her off with a kiss, seeming surprisingly unconcerned at the compromising position he was about to be caught in. “You let me worry about Bonner.” He went to the door, where the sheriff’s knocking was getting more and more insistent, and threw it open with a broad smile. “Sheriff! What a pleasant surprise, please come in.”

  “Raymond?” At first, the sheriff looked confused, his thick brows drawn together at finding prominent rancher and citizen Courtland Raymond answering the schoolteacher’s door in only his trousers, but then his eyes widened in surprised realisation. “Oh. Oh, my apologies, Raymond, didn’t mean to intrude.” He looked past Court, to Clara in her silk robe, and nodded at her, clearing his throat uncomfortably. Clara said nothing in greeting, her face hot with embarrassment, her heart racing at the thought of what all the parents of her students would say when they found out, and afraid most of all that this would mean the end, the end for her and Court. “I just thought that someone ought to check on Miss Clara after that storm, I didn’t realise that she…that you and she…that you were…”

  “No problem, Sheriff.” Court leaned against the doorjamb, and Clara wondered at his ease. “I appreciate your concern for my lovely bride-to-be.”

  Clara stared at him. Bride-to-be? She felt as though her heart had stopped and she knew her mouth was hanging open, but she couldn’t seem to close it. Had he really said bride-to-be?

  Sheriff Bonner didn’t seem to notice her complete shock at Court’s declaration, but then, he looked a little startled himself. “Well congratulations, Mr Raymond, sir. That’s wonderful news and you just know how well liked Miss Clara here is. Just yesterday morning I ran into Mrs Sanich and she was telling me how Miss Clara had made such a difference in her Susie, got her to learn her letters when poor Mrs Sanich had about given up hope.” He slapped his hat onto his knee, knocking snow off onto the floor. “Yes siree, this is good news for your campaign to become mayor, everyone likes Miss Clara, even those who don’t like you very much will vote for you once you’re married to Miss Clara here, I’m sure of it.” He took Court’s hand in both of his and shook it enthusiastically. “Congratulations. This is good news indeed, very good news!” The sheriff chortled.

  Court grinned at him, returning his handshake. “I’m a lucky man.”

  “That you are.” Sheriff Donner’s gaze focused on Clara’s chest, never reaching her eyes, his handshake slowing as he stared. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to resist crossing her arms, but then Court stepped in front of her, blocking the view, and the sheriff had the good grace to be flustered at being caught. “I won’t keep you from…well, I just won’t keep you, I can see you’re in good hands, Miss Clara.” He chuckled to himself. “Wait’ll they hear the news in town, that Mrs Jansen will be beside herself, I know she always had her heart set on you marrying up with her Edith one day, Raymond, you’ll have made an enemy of her.” He frowned. “Come to it now, that’s one vote you may have lost, for she’ll have her Howard voting against you for sure now.” He waved a hand. “No matter, there’s more than enough to make up for it.”

  “Sheriff.” Court steered him on his way to the door, laying a big hand firmly on his shoulder. “We’d greatly appreciate if you’d hold off sharing our good news, just for a couple of days. There are a few people we’d like to tell ourselves first.”

  The sheriff nodded, looking a little pained. “Right, of course, I can see that.” He hesitated. “Would it be too much trouble if I could be the one to tell Mrs Jansen? I would surely love to see the look on her face. Woman’s likely to fair blow a gasket when she hears.” He chuckled. “Course, I imagine the look on my face was something else too, opening to door to see you, Raymond, all in your nothings, when I expected proper Miss Clara, the schoolmarm.” He jammed his hat on his head and opened the door. “I’ll keep the news under my hat for now, Raymond, but you let me know when it’s all right to talk about it, because there’s a lot of people who’ll want to know. We got us a wedding to plan, and the whole town’ll want to be involved in that.” He touched his fingers to his brim and trudged back out into the drifted snow. Court closed the door firmly behind him.

  Chapter Eight

  Clara stood frozen. She wasn’t sure she’d actually breathed since Court had made his proclamation that she was his bride-to-be. Had he meant it? Or did he think he could keep the sheriff quiet long enough that no one would find out, that they’d just move on and forget all about this little incident? If he did he was wrong—there was nothing that was going to keep Sheriff Donner from spreading such a juicy bit of news. Clara groaned out loud at the thought of it, of the looks she would face in town, the knowledge that everyone was discussing her transgressions, her private business.

  “Clara?” Court looked down at her, his forehead wrinkled in concern as he took her hand in his. “Are you all right? You’re white as a ghost.”

  “He’s going to tell everyone.” Clara’s voice sounded hollow to her own ears.

  Court nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, probably. Is that so bad?”

  “Did you mean it? What you said?”

  He cupped her face in his hands, warm against her cold skin, and bent to look her straight in the eye. “Yes, I meant it. I wouldn’t dream of letting a gossiping old twit like Sheriff Donner ruin
your reputation on my account. We’ll be married as soon as it can be arranged.” He smiled, a deep warm smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

  Clara studied the middle of his chest, avoiding the dangerous warm depths of his eyes. The words were almost too painful to say aloud. “And if he’d never come?” She spoke barely above a whisper. “If no one had found out, what then?”

  Court dropped his hands and walked away so quickly that Clara gasped at the sudden movement, at the loss of his warmth against her skin. He grabbed his clothes and tears welled in her eyes. She’d thought that all she wanted was Court, to have him for her own, wake up with every day, but now she knew that wasn’t enough. She wanted him to want her as well, and not just because some sense of honour forced him to protect her reputation by giving her his name. He’d be hers in name and, because he truly was an honourable man, his body, but his heart, his soul…

  Court flung his coat aside and returned to her side, and Clara tried to blink away the tears, avoiding his scrutiny.

  “Hey,” Court said. His voice was gentle and he tipped her chin up with his thumb. “What’s the matter?”

  “It’s nothing.” Clara tried to turn away, but he wouldn’t let her, persisting until she met his gaze, and it was the concern in his dark eyes that broke down her defences, her will to keep her worries to herself, to take the part of her happiness she’d been so unexpectedly offered. She spoke in a rush. “I just wish you wanted me.” She wrenched out of his grip and turned her back on him, walking away, gaining some distance so she could continue. “Wanted me for me, I mean, and for always.”

  “Clara.” Court’s voice was low and pleading. “Clara, look at me.”