by Vanessa Vale
"Sure thing, sweetheart." She went to the door, her dress rustling, and closed it firmly behind her.
Wyatt’s fingers worked the buttons on his shirt.
"What are you doing?" I asked, watching as his skin was exposed.
"I've told you this and Lucille's told you this. If you're going to keep using the word whore - which I think you need to discontinue as it is abhorrent – then you are going to be my whore, and you are going to like every minute of it."
I couldn't help but grin. When he said those words now, I was intrigued and aroused. It was a quick shift in my mind, but now I understood the difference, which was liberating. Freeing. Incredible. "Every minute of it?"
He tugged the tails of the shirt from his pants, and slipped it off his arms as he grinned. He was so handsome when he was carefree and happy. He reached out and pulled me in his arms. Kissed me. Hot, sweet, sexy kisses. "Every. Minute. Of. It."
I was so lost, his tongue dueling with mine, dipping in, then retreating, mimicking how I knew he would fuck me...soon. His hands roamed over my body, from hips to waist to breasts only to slide back down and cup my ass.
"I won't last, Emily." His breathing was erratic as he pushed down on my shoulders, directing me where he wanted me, the carpet soft beneath me. "On your knees. You are going to suck my cock this first time, then I'll be able to take care of you. For hours."
From my position, I looked up his body to meet his gaze. "I...I don't know how."
"Surely you heard talk about this."
I nodded, licked my lips. "Just talk. It seemed too unbelievable at the time."
Wyatt stroked his hand over my hair and I tilted my head into his caress. "And now?"
My hands undid the placket of his pants and pulled his immense cock free. It bobbed and when I grasped it firmly in my palm, Wyatt's hips shifted as he hissed out a breath. "Now I want to taste you."
I did. I wanted to learn the feel of his cock on my tongue, to know what Wyatt tasted like, to swallow his seed and make him lose control. Although I was on my knees, I felt powerful, able to reduce my husband to mindlessness. Wetness seeped from the tip of the broad head and I darted my tongue out to lick it. It was salty on my tongue. I wanted more. I took him slowly, yet deeply, filling my mouth with his thick cock as far as I could. When it bumped the back of my throat, I coughed, my body innately reacting to the need to breathe which made my eyes water. Pulling back slightly, I hollowed out my cheeks and sucked.
"Jesus, Em," Wyatt breathed, his hand cupping the back of my neck, guiding me as he wanted to gain the most pleasure.
Swirling my tongue, I tasted the full length of him, licking along the distended vein that ran up the length. He was hard and thick, hot in my mouth. Remembering what the girls had said, I cupped his balls in my palm as I continued to suck and lick at his cock.
Looking up at Wyatt through my lashes, I could see his eyes were closed, his jaw clamped tight, the cords in his neck distended. He looked pained, but I knew he was in the throes of the most painful pleasure. Happiness coursed through me; it was exhilarating to know I could reduce him to such baseness. Wanting to watch him succumb, I kept my eyes lifted to watch him as I diligently settled into my task.
His balls tightened in my palm, and his hand clamped tighter about my neck. His cock thickened and lengthened impossibly more in my mouth just before he came. A guttural groan accompanied a hot gush of seed that hit the back of my throat. I had to swallow, again and again, to take it all, but I didn't want to lose a drop. He still tasted salty, but also musky and deliciously male. It was one of the most powerful moments of my life and I reveled in it. Wyatt was such a powerful and strong man, and in those few minutes, I'd just controlled him completely. His release only spurred on my own; my core pulsed and softened in expectation.
His hand gently pushed me back and his spent cock slipped from my mouth. Lowering into a crouch, Wyatt's sated gaze met mine. A wide grin spread across his face.
"Did I please you?" I asked, worried perhaps that I'd done it wrong. Even though he had the look of a well-pleasured man, doubt niggled in.
"Please me? Wife, you've brought me to my knees. Your naiveté was delightful and it had me coming as if I was a randy teenager."
"Then you must teach me the way of it." His taste, salty and musky, coated my tongue.
"It will be my pleasure."
I grinned as well, for I saw how much pleasure he would find in the lessons.
"Are you wet for me?" he asked.
I nodded.
"Show me."
"How?" I asked.
"Slip your fingers over your pussy, then hold them up."
I did, the heated, slick flesh sensitive and I sighed. The digits were wet and glistening as I held them before him. Taking hold of my wrist, he leaned in and sucked the tips into his mouth, licked my essence from them.
"Sweet. So sweet."
His cock, which had diminished in arousal after his release, grew before my eyes to curl and brush against his belly. I cried out in surprise as I was tossed upon the bed, and watched as Wyatt stripped the remainder of his clothes from his body, then climbed on top of me to press his solid body firmly against mine.
"You are wearing too many clothes," he told me.
"I cannot remove them with you upon me so."
He shook his head as he smirked. "Your sass will only gain you a pink hue to your ass."
I arched a brow, yet he sat back on his haunches to begin undoing the buttons down the front of my dress. Tugging the fabric from my shoulders, he worked it free from my arms and I lifted my hips to help him slip it over my hips and off.
All too quickly he divested me of my shift.
"No corset or drawers. Such a good girl."
He spread my thighs open with his big hands, lifting one leg, then the other, over his shoulders, then lowered himself so I could feel his soft breath at the apex of my legs. "I am going to make you come, Emily. Why?"
"Because you can." My core ached for him.
His tongue slid over my folds and circled my clit and I cried out. "Good girl. You're going to come again and again because I control your body. I control your pleasure. You're mine, Emily. Your pleasure is mine."
He set about his task with a diligence that left me breathless, had my mind wiped clean like a school slate and screaming his name. I'd been so aroused by taking him into my mouth that just a brush of his tongue, a little nip and I shattered.
He kissed my thigh, my belly and came up to my breasts. "Mine." With his mouth on one, sucking, laving, licking, his hand was upon the other, tugging, pulling, twisting. "You're going to come just from having your nipples played with."
My head thrashed on the bed, my pussy so lonely and empty, my inner walls clamping down with each tug and nip on my nipples. I had no idea there was a direct connection between the two, but Wyatt was ruthless in his attentions. I'd been on edge, so hypersensitive after my first orgasm that the next one was easy to wring from my body. I arched up into Wyatt as I cried out my pleasure; this time it was like a hot breeze, soft and rolled over me languidly, but no less intense. It left me depleted, wilted and dreamy.
"Oh no, stay with me, Emily. I'm nowhere near done."
I felt the head of his cock at my entrance, my folds spread wide by the blunt tip. In one smooth push, he filled me completely. "Wyatt, it's too much!" I put my hands on his shoulders, not sure if I wanted to push him away or pull him closer.
"Never," he murmured in my ear as he began to move. "Mine."
It was like a mantra, perhaps confirming what he already knew and telling me I belonged to him, I had any lingering doubts. He ruled my body, knew how to push me into pleasure again and again. As his cock bumped and rubbed over those secret places deep inside me, I came again. The pleasure was so intense, so overwhelmingly sharp and bright, that I soon had tears slipping down my cheeks.
Our bodies were slick and the little hairs on his chest abraded my already tender nipples. "Oh, God, I can't
take anymore."
I felt a hand cup my chin. "Look at me, baby."
My eyes fluttered open and the intensity I saw stole the breath from my lungs. "You're mine. Do you understand?"
"Yes," I whispered.
"There's no doubt in that curious head of yours?"
I tried to shake my head, but he held me securely. I was pinned entirely, my legs entangled with his, his cock filling me, his hips pressing me down, his torso was molded to mine.
"No."
"I'm not done with you yet. I'm going to take your ass, baby. Stretch you open with my cock, spill my seed deep inside and mark you as mine there, too."
"Oh God," I repeated. The carnality of his words, his intentions had me clenching down on his cock.
"So greedy," he murmured. Slowly, he pulled free, my pussy empty without him and I moaned at his absence. "Patience, baby. I'll take care of you."
With ease, he rolled me over onto my belly and positioned my legs beneath me, just as he wanted. I was like putty, pliable and soft beneath his hands. I saw a familiar glass jar in my periphery and watched Wyatt coat his cock, so thick and long, so that it glistened in the lamplight. His hand, still greasy with the lubricant, moved out of my vision, but I felt the fingers against my back entrance. I clenched instinctively.
"Relax and let me in."
His free hand ran up and down my sweaty back, soothing me. My arousal hadn't diminished with his cock gone, the jangly sensation of his finger breaching my ass and waking up places inside had my hips shifting, trying to push him deeper.
"Oh baby, so greedy. You love it when I play with your ass, don't you?"
I couldn't answer because his hand at my back slipped down to my pussy and stroked over my swollen folds to slide inside. I was filled in both holes, fingers moving in and out, mimicking the motions of his cock. It was too much, my body couldn't handle the onslaught - the assault- and I came again. My hands clawed at the quilt and I screamed into the pillow. As I slowly returned to my senses, it wasn't his finger deeply embedded in my ass anymore, but the head of his cock pressing against the tight ring. The stretching was accompanied by a burn, but the pain of it - the sharp bite of being opened wider than I thought possible - only made me come again. My body was out of control, the orgasms coming one after another and I was lost, so lost that I couldn't move, couldn't resist anything Wyatt did. His hands held my hips, moved me as he wanted so his cock filled me all the way. I couldn't do anything but take it. And I wanted it. Oh, God, how I wanted it.
"Good girl. I've held on all this time, baby, but seeing you stretched open like this, your ass filled with my cock has my cum boiling. You're going to come one more time for me."
I shook my head against the pillow, my hair in damp clumps about my face, down my back. I wanted to tell him I couldn't handle any more pleasure, but he wouldn't listen. He would give me every bit of pleasure he could wring from me and I would take it. I would take anything because I was his. His thoughts much have matched mine, because he began to move, to fuck me in deep, methodical strokes.
"Mine." He repeated the word over and over as he filled me until he came, shouting it out as he spurted thickly, branding me everywhere as his. He'd marked my pussy, my mouth and my ass. As I felt the hot seed deep within me, I came again, this time succumbing to darkness as I did so.
CHAPTER TWELVE
WYATT
Our journey to the ranch had Emily sitting sideways across my lap as we headed home on my horse. There was no wagon this time, and I was enjoying this alternative immensely. Her ass rubbed and shifted against my cock and she turned and eyed me with a wicked grin as she felt my hard cock pressing against her. We both remained quiet, the events of the night before in my thoughts - and no doubt in Emily's as well - but with the sheriff riding beside us, it was not mentioned.
To say that I was smug this morning was an understatement. I'd made my wife come so many times the previous night that she'd passed out. I knew Emily was lusty and highly passionate, but even I had no idea she was so responsive. As the ranch came into view, I whispered in her ear. "There's no question in your mind that you belong to me?"
She shook her head, her hair tickling my chin. "No, Wyatt."
"And we are in agreement about what we must do."
"Yes."
As we climbed the porch steps to our house, the sheriff fell in beside us. He nodded at Mrs. Perrin.
"She's inside," the housekeeper said, as if guessing why the Sheriff was there.
We followed Mrs. Perrin into the kitchen where Pegg and the woman were at the table drinking coffee. Pegg stood and the woman's gaze flicked between all of us, but held fast to the star pinned at the sheriff's chest.
The room was crowded and tension was thick. "This is Sheriff Barnett," I said by way of introduction.
The sheriff nodded at the woman, his hat in hand.
"There's no question that Emily," he said, "is truly Blake Wyatt’s wife."
The woman was about to contradict, but I cut her off. "Mrs. Bidwell sent a letter with Emily to give to me, which, based on your expression, you did not know about. While you played us all falsely, and defamed my wife's character, I am willing to look beyond that to the real reason for your deception."
The woman's hands about her mug tightened so the knuckles turned white.
"Why did you follow through with such a plan?"
Everyone watched the woman. She took a deep breath, then lifted her chin. "Because I wanted a fresh start. A new life. A real life. I want to be a lady."
"What's your name?" Emily asked, her voice gentle. She deserved to reach over and strangle the woman with her bare hands, but she was too kind to do that. Perhaps she was being kind solely because the woman was no longer a threat.
Her pale gaze turned to my wife. "Hannah. Hannah Moore."
"You are very brave Hannah, and very smart."
For a woman who'd been slandered and belittled, Emily was quite forgiving. For me, I just wanted the woman out of my house and out of my life.
Surprise widened Hannah's eyes.
"You worked for Mrs. Bidwell, didn't you? I would have recognized you if you were one of Aunt Trina's girls," Emily said.
"Yes. I heard wind of Mrs. Bidwell's matchmaking and wanted her to arrange a husband for me as well. She was kind, but stated that most men wanted virgins, but would consider me if a match arose. None ever came!"
Her cool and collected demeanor crumbled before our eyes. Her shoulders slumped, a tear slipped down her cheek. This, for once, was not an act.
"Montana Territory was so far away! How would a man know about my missing maidenhead until I'd wedded him by proxy, travelled hundreds of miles and beneath him in his bed? There would be no going back."
I thought of Emily and the fact that she'd considered the same thing of me.
"A man had been a little rough." Hannah glanced down at her hands, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "It was my undoing. I saw the ladies complete the paperwork, the proxy weddings, their departure and I listened. Nothing is secret in a brothel. I had money saved up and I followed." She glanced up at me. "You know the rest." Slowly, she pushed back her chair and stood, came around the table to stand in front of the sheriff. "I'm ready."
The sheriff's eyebrows went up as he looked down at the petite woman standing in front of him. Smiled. "Really? It's for the rest of your life."
Hannah went pale and her eyes glistened with tears. "A life sentence? I only impersonated someone. I didn't hurt anyone. Didn't steal anything." She spun on her heel and approached Emily. "I'm sorry. I truly am, but like you, I needed a way out. A new life."
Emily took the woman's hand. "I understand. I do. Perhaps we can become friends."
Hannah shook her head. "I don't think that will be possible, but you are kind."
"You're not going to jail," the sheriff said, his voice direct. "You're marrying me."
Hannah gasped and looked to the sheriff. Her eyes were wide, her surprise evident. "What?"
"You wanted a groom. I want a bride. You will marry me."
"But...but I'm tainted goods."
"Not anymore," the man all but growled. His possessiveness was apparent.
Hannah was struck speechless.
"Am I so unappealing?" he asked.
She shook her head, taking in the man before her. Sheriff Barnett was nearly my height, with hair as black as hers was blonde. They would make a good match.
"I can vouch for him," I told her. "Sheriff Barnett is a good man."
"I won't hurt you, Hannah. Ever. I'll protect you with my life."
"I'll vouch for him as well," Pegg added.
Hannah looked to Mrs. Perrin, who nodded and smiled.
"Why would you want to marry a woman you've never met before?" she asked.
"Why would you want to marry a man you've never met before?" Barnett countered. "Besides, isn't that what you would have done if you were a mail order bride?"
Hannah didn't answer, just took a moment to consider. "Even knowing of my trickery and deceit?"
"There's nothing wrong with wanting a better life. You could have gone about it differently and you'll be punished for it accordingly." The sheriff held up a hand. "When I am your husband I will ensure that those ways are never to resurface."
Hannah looked down at the floor, contrite, but was resolved.
"Well?" Barnett asked, tipping her chin up.
When she looked up, a brilliant smile lit her face. "All right."
Barnett smiled as well and held out his arm. With trepidation, Hannah took it.
"We will take your leave. Mrs. Perrin, good to see you. Pegg, Wyatt, Mrs. Blake." Barnett nodded at me, then led Hannah out of the kitchen. She glanced back once, but turned her head, walking into her new life. It wasn't going to be easy for them Sheriff Barnett was ready to settle down, yet settled in his ways and Hannah unused to being under a man's control - but I hoped for the best. All that was important to me was that Hannah was not our problem any longer. She was Barnett's.
"I'll be off then as well," Pegg said, grabbing his hat from the table.