She took a deep breath. She could do this. She was being given a chance at a lifetime with the man she loved. She was being silly to fuss over how she got there. She would turn around, she would kiss him and she would forget all this foolishness about the reasons for their marriage.
Clara raised her chin and spun to look at him.
Court was down on one knee, and Clara clapped her hands to her face as she realised he held a tiny box in his hands, a tiny box that contained a ring. A diamond ring.
“Clara Wilder,” he said, his voice soft, “I love you. I want to wake up next to you every day, make love to you every night and share my life with you. Will you do me the honour of being my bride?”
The tears Clara had banished returned, spilling over her lashes. “The whole time?” She spoke through her hands, still held to her mouth. “You had the ring already. You were…all along…you planned…”
Court smiled, his eyes shining suspiciously. “I knew when I left here last time that I couldn’t live with only seeing you in secret, that every time I got to hold you had to be carefully planned. I bought the ring that same week, but then I couldn’t get out here.” He was talking fast, sounding unsure of himself for the first time since she’d known him, and Clara started crying in earnest, her heart warming at his vulnerability. “I wanted it to be perfect, but then that fool Donner came and ruined it.” He shook his head as though to clear it and held the ring box out. “Marry me, Clara, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making you happy.”
Clara dropped her clasped hands to her chest, pressing them against her wildly beating heart as she looked at him. “Yes,” she whispered, and he stood up with a whoop, crushing her into his embrace, lifting her off the ground and spinning around so that her feet flew out in a circle and Clara laughed through her joyful tears.
Court set her down and took the ring, dropping the box on the floor. He slid the ring onto her finger, his skin rough against hers, and Clara shivered. He stepped around behind her and held her hand up, palm out, to allow both of them to admire the effect.
“I love you, Court,” Clara said. He kissed her cheek and Clara leant back against him.
“I can’t believe you thought I was only marrying you to protect your reputation.” Court nipped at her earlobe. “You should have more faith in the man you love.”
Clara giggled and turned to throw her arms around his neck.
“No, no, I’m serious,” Court said, not sounding serious at all. “I’m afraid that kind of oversight is going to require some sort of penance.”
“Oh no.” Clara looked up at him from under her lashes. “Will it take long?”
Court smoothed the hair back from her face, his touch tender. “Only the rest of our lives.”
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Outlaw Rose
Celeste Rupert
Excerpt
Chapter One
A branch cracked. Rose crouched down in the shadow of a nearby bush and hoped her dark dress and the overcast night would be enough to hide her from view. The footsteps grew nearer and she held her breath. Her heart pounded so loud in her ears that she was afraid it would lead him straight to her. She tried to calm down.
It was quiet. She strained her ears for any sign he was coming closer. The silence pressed in on her as she squinted through the darkness, searching for movement. There was nothing but the faint rustle of nearby leaves in the night breeze. She breathed out a sigh.
He was gone.
She sensed the movement a split second before she felt the hand close over her arm. She fought with all her strength, jerking backwards to try to break his grip, until the loud, metallic click of a hammer being drawn back echoed through the night. She froze.
“That’s better.” His voice was a low growl and she felt the steel barrel of his pistol against her cheek. He lifted her to her toes, bringing his face down close to hers. She could smell the coffee on his breath, then his face was close enough to see clearly. His strong jaw and full lips had been hidden by the mask the day before, but she remembered his eyes, which registered surprise as he recognised her. “You! You’re that little snip of a bank teller.” He pressed the gun harder into the soft skin of her face. “What the hell are you doing sneaking around our camp?”
“I followed you.”
“Why?”
“The posse took off to the south, thinking you’d head for Mexico. I…” She hesitated, until the pistol jerked again. “I took a chance.”
“Stupid of you. I can’t let you go now, or you’ll just run to the sheriff.” He twisted, and she realised he was looking around him. “I don’t like killing women, but you’ve put me in a bad spot.”
“No!” Her heart pounded in her ears.
“No?” He leaned over her menacingly. “Do you have another suggestion? We’ve made plans for that gold, and I don’t plan to let some pretty little bank teller get me hanged before I get around to spending it.”
“If you’ll let me live…” Her voice trailed off.
He gave her a shake, bouncing her off his broad chest, his hand like steel on her arm.
“I’ll make it worth your while.”
He froze and she collided with him again. “What?” he said.
She relaxed against him, trailing a trembling hand across his chest. She heard him suck in his breath, then jumped when his hand covered hers, holding it still.
“That’s a mighty tempting offer, miss, but what am I supposed to tell the boys? ‘Oh, the girl knows which way we went, but I let her go after I had my way with her?’ You know what they’ll say?” He put his face close to hers, holding onto her with both hands. She wondered where the gun was. “They’ll want to know why I didn’t bring you back to share.”
Her mind raced, searching for options, analysing the situation. It took her only a second to come to a conclusion. She needed to get into their camp and this might be her only chance. “You found me.” She pressed her breasts into his chest. “Seems to me you should be first.”
He chuckled and let go of her hand, still holding tightly to her upper arm. She slid her fingers down his sides, then back up again. He swallowed audibly. With his free hand he tugged at the bodice of her dress, ripping the buttons off as he tore it open, then made short work of her thin cotton chemise. The sound of tearing cloth was loud in the darkness. The night air was cool on her skin, and her nipples peaked in response. His eyes were glued to her loose breasts. She took a deep breath and watched his face tighten at the movement.
He grabbed for her left breast, squeezing hard enough that she cried out, looking down at his dark hand on her pale skin. She watched as he released his grip, only to pinch the tip between his work-roughened fingers. She caught her breath and tried to pull back but he didn’t loosen his hold. She cried out again as her nipple stretched, and he let go, only to switch to her other breast and start all over. He reached for her peak, and her stomach clenched in anticipation. When he rolled the sensitive skin she felt dampness between her thighs and drew in a shaky breath. She needed to keep her mind clear if she was going to get that gold for herself, but the sensations and sight of his strong fingers on her sensitive skin were driving her to distraction.
She dropped to her knees at his feet and he released his hold on her upper arm to set a hand over the butt of the pistol. He didn’t trust her. That’s all right, she thought, since she wasn’t trustworthy. She ran a hand lightly over the bulge in his heavy, denim pants and he hissed and grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling it loose from the braid. She unbuttoned his pants then reached inside, closing her fingers around his cock. He moaned and she looked up, disappointed that she couldn’t see his face in the darkness. She tugged gently until his erection sprang free, then slid her hand slowly over the tip. He tightened his hand on the back of her head and pushed her forward, leaving no doubt what he wanted from her. She breathed out, making sure he would feel her warm breath before she extended her tongue and ran it up the bottom of his
shaft, making him moan again. She closed her mouth over the head and began to suck, teasing his tip with her tongue, pumping one hand up and down the shaft, bracing the other against his thigh.
He panted above her, and she could feel how tense his muscles were under her hand. Maybe this would be all it would take, if she could get him to come. She leant forwards, taking as much of him into her mouth as she could, until the tip of his cock touched the back of her throat. She swallowed, once, twice, and he grabbed her hair with both hands, holding her head still and pounding down her throat once more as streams of semen shot against the back of her throat, making her gag. She blinked her watering eyes as he pulled free of her mouth, his ragged breathing loud.
“You know how to suck a cock, Miss Bank Teller,” he said, still out of breath. “I wonder where you learnt such skills?”
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m a woman of many talents.” She got to her feet and tried to pull the tatters of the dress across her breasts, only to jump when he reached out and snagged her wrist.
“Not so fast,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “What makes you think we’re finished here?”
She raised an eyebrow and dropped her chin to look down at his cock, limp against his trousers.
He laughed and pulled the fabric back to expose her breasts again. “Don’t you worry about that.” He cupped both her breasts in his hands, flicking his thumbs over the nipples, and she struggled not to lean into him. “You like that,” he said, his husky voice barely louder than a whisper. “Don’t you?”
She took a deep breath to calm herself, which had the unintended side effect of pressing her breasts more firmly into his hands. Her teeth dug into her lip as she fought to stifle a moan. He leant down and ran his tongue over first one nipple, then the other.
“It seems you’ve got some skills of your own,” she said, and, even to her own ears, her voice sounded breathy.
He chuckled, a warm sound that went straight to her core, his breath cooling her hot skin. Instead of answering, he closed his teeth over the nipple and she gasped, winding her hands into his hair and knocking his hat to the ground. He sucked hard for just a moment, the pulse running through her like wildfire, and when he pulled away she stumbled forward into his chest. His hands closed on her arms, he hooked his leg behind hers, tripping her, and the next thing she knew she was flat on her back on the uneven ground, a rock digging into her shoulder blade.
He pushed at her skirts, flipping them up around her middle and she pushed them back. His face appeared in front of her, his hand back on her breast. “Remember, Miss Bank Teller, this was your idea.” He gave the breast a squeeze that made her squirm. “I’m sure you have more skills to demonstrate. I know I do.” He disappeared from her vision and went back to battling her skirts. This time, she didn’t flip them back. He was right—this was all part of the plan.
She’d nearly forgotten about the plan—this common thief was clouding her judgement. She needed to find what she had come for and get away from his distracting influence. Maybe after he’d come twice he’d be so spent she could even escape, find the camp and the gold on her own.
Caught up in planning, she jumped when she felt his hands on the bare skin of her thighs. He’d disposed of her petticoat and firmly moved her knees apart with his rough, warm hands. She reared up as he slid one thick finger deep inside her without warning.
“Ah,” he said, as he drew the finger slowly back out again, making her shudder. “All wet and ready for me.” He leaned over, pressing her back into the ground as he trailed his finger over her sensitive tissues, making her buck against him. “And I thought you were only doing this so I would spare your life.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but instead let out a sharp cry as he began a lazy circle around her swollen sex and her hips rocked towards him of their own accord, trying to follow his hand as he pulled it away. She hardly had time to miss it before he grabbed her, dragging her towards him and up onto his lap. Her legs were spread wide by the width of his body, the sharp edge of the butt of his gun digging into her upper thigh just before he let go of her with one hand to guide himself into her in one long, solid thrust.
She gasped as her sensitive inner tissues stretched. He paused once he was seated deep within her to adjust his grip, his fingers biting into her as he began to move. Rose flailed her arms, searching for something to grab onto, clawing handfuls of dried grass, the only thing within her grasp. She couldn’t touch him, couldn’t sit up with her head down, her hips up on his lap. She couldn’t even see him as he surged into her in the darkness, but she could hear him as he breathed in rhythm to his thrusts and she whimpered as the pressure built.
He released his hold on her and leaned over her, his hands braced on the ground either side of her as he increased the tempo, shifting to rock into her at a deeper angle. She reached for him, grateful for something to hold on to as she planted her feet on the ground and lifted her hips to meet every pounding thrust. He dropped his head, sucked hard on a nipple and she arched up with a moan, tangling her hands in his hair. He switched to her other breast and she bucked beneath him as the tug of his mouth added to the rolling sensation of his fast, hard thrusts and pushed her over the edge. She heard a long, keening cry and realised it was coming from her and she clung to him, riding out the waves of her climax as he gave another deep thrust, stiffened, then let out a shout and collapsed on top of her.
Her body gave a final twitch and she let her arms fall to her sides as she struggled to catch her breath. His body was a solid weight on top of her, his face buried between her breasts as he sucked in air and she could feel the puffs of breath on her wet breast. Her nipples were painfully hard.
His voice was muffled when he spoke. “You’re something else, Miss Bank Teller,” he said. “I’m glad I didn’t shoot you.” He lifted his head and pushed himself up, giving the nipple a pinch that made her gasp before he pulled slowly out of her, her body clinging to him. She threw her head back as residual sensation coursed through her.
“You’re a bit of a surprise yourself, Mr Bank Robber,” she said, mocking his name for her even as she caught her breath. “You sure you don’t want to keep me for yourself?” She trailed one hand up between her breasts and he froze on his knees beside her, his gaze focused on the path of her fingers as she circled the nipple. “You don’t have to tell the others about me. I’m sure we could work something out.” She pushed her breasts together, her back arched.
He reached out to touch her, his big, warm hand barely brushing the sensitised tip, when there was a crashing in the bush and he froze.
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About the Author
Celeste Rupert lives in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains and—other than the lack of indoor plumbing—would love to live in the Old West. As time travel hasn’t yet been invented, she lives in the era through her characters.
Email: [email protected]
Celeste loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.
Also by Celeste Rupert
Outlaw Rose
Snowed Under
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Holding Court Page 4