by Reece Butler
Casey was tough and independent, but was it really by choice? She’d never had the caring protection of a strong man. She didn’t know the value of letting someone else take over, just for a time. He clasped his hands behind his back to stop himself from reaching for her. He lowered his voice to a sensual caress.
“I also have the right and privilege to punish you in a way we’ll both enjoy.” Her jaw dropped. Her face and ears turned pink. “And that means, Casey Wright, if you take one step out of line I’ll have you across my lap so fast you won’t know what happened.”
The telltale bumps sticking out of her shirt proved she was aroused instead of angry. Her eyes narrowed. He amended that to aroused and angry. His cock throbbed with eagerness. They hadn’t done much but sleep the past few nights. There could only be one boss of an outfit, and he was it.
Casey knew this, but he could see she wanted to push his limits. He was more than ready to give her a practical, enjoyable demonstration of who was the boss. Spanking her bare ass, then soothing her with a few orgasms, would do perfectly. Of course if she gave in to his orders, he would soothe her right away.
But a strong woman like his wife, who’d had to keep a tight control on herself all her life, might want to let go of everything. It was his job to meet her needs, to listen to her unspoken words and judge what she wanted. If she fought his orders, knowing what he would do to her, she would be asking him in the language of a lover wishing to be dominated so she could be free.
He held his breath, his face and body as impassive as he could manage. She still had her head down, trembling slightly. She wasn’t afraid. Both of her hands were clenched in the sides of her pants as if fighting not to attack him. Please, let her attack, he silently prayed.
She lifted her head. Stared at him with wide eyes. There was a lot of green in the hazel. Her chest rose and fell, panting just like him. Those firm breasts and swollen nipples pushed out her shirt. She licked her lips. He remembered that tongue on his cock. He clenched his teeth to hold in a groan. Byron couldn’t hold it back. The sound of male need filled the silent room.
She flicked her eyes to his cousin, then back to him. The pulse in her neck throbbed as hard as his cock.
“You wouldn’t dare,” she whispered.
He pushed his shoulders back and put his weight on the balls of his feet, ready for anything.
“Try me,” he dared.
She turned so fast he almost missed her. But his legs were longer and he caught her around the waist before she got to the door. Byron stayed well out of the way.
“Let me go!”
“Not until I show you who’s the ramrod of this outfit.”
Her struggling brought out the predator in him. Never had he thought of touching a woman like this, manhandling her like a brute. But if she really wanted him to stop she would have told him. Instead she fought, panting between growls. He managed to grasp her wrists. Holding them tight against her hips, he turned her around to face Byron.
“Undo her shirt,” he ordered. Byron raised an eyebrow. “If I’m going to have to go to all the trouble of disciplining my wife, I’m going to get the full benefit. I want her naked before I lie her across my lap and spank her.”
“Don’t you dare!” she squealed. “Byron!”
“I’m with Cole on this one, too,” he replied, his voice harsh.
She kicked out. Byron caught her foot. She kicked with the other so he caught it as well. He gathered both slim ankles in one large hand. It left him one to open her buttons. She threw her head back, banging it against Cole’s chest. She thumped him well, but if she really wanted to escape she’d do it with far more force. He grimaced. With both hands holding her he couldn’t open his buttons and release his thickening cock.
Byron avoided Casey’s feeble attempts to bite as he flicked her shirt open. Her breasts spilled out, swollen and firm. Byron pinched one hard nipple. She inhaled a hiss, stiffening for a moment, then began struggling again. He smirked as he finished opening her shirt. He undid her pants next, then pulled them to her ankles. She wore nothing underneath.
Byron managed to pull off her pants without releasing her. He held her ankles apart, letting her twist as she wished. Cole inhaled her sweet arousal. He nodded to Byron to hold her while he removed her shirt. By wrapped his arms around her chest, under her shirt, and lifted her off the ground. She continued to fight and squeal.
Squeal, not scream.
Since his cousin had Casey under control for the moment, Cole quickly stripped. He groaned in relief when his cock bobbed free. He strode over to the bed and sat on the edge. Byron, grinning like a devil, carried Casey toward him, still struggling. She was flushed from her pussy to her forehead, still squawking to beat the band.
“Face down, ass over my lap,” ordered Cole.
It took a few minutes to get her settled, facedown. Cole finally got her wrists contained in one hand while Byron held her feet. Her pussy lay on his right thigh while his cock rubbed her belly. Her sweet, curved ass was right in front of him. White cheeks, clenching asshole, and all. She lay there, panting, for a moment.
Byron took the opportunity to strip off his shirt and pants. Then he grasped her ankles and moved her legs apart. He inhaled, then grinned. Cole pressed one finger between Casey’s thighs. It came out wet. Casey wanted this, all right.
“She’s ready,” he said.
“No!”
Cole smacked the inside of her right cheek with his palm. She shrieked and struggled. He watched his handprint turn pink. Another spank, another shriek, and a matching one appeared on the other cheek. His hand tingled. He loved knowing they shared this sting, her ass and his hand, both enjoying the bite that raised their arousal.
“You ready to follow orders, woman?” His voice was rough with desire.
“No!”
She pressed down with her knees and chest, humping her ass up. Another burst of scent wafted from between her spread legs. He looked at her pussy. Swollen pink lips glistened with her arousal. She humped up again, spreading the crack of her ass. He smiled at her unspoken suggestion.
Using his fingers, he gathered moisture from that needy pussy. She inhaled a gasp when he fingered her. He trailed his fingers between her cheeks to her asshole. She stilled, then lifted herself. Just a bit, but it was an invitation. He pressed his smallest finger into her.
“Damn, she’s tight,” he said to Byron. “Be a while before my cock takes her there.”
She shuddered. He and Byron shared a look. She wanted a cock in her ass, all right. Byron grasped himself and slowly stroked. Cole nodded his agreement that By would be the first to take her there. He gathered more fluid and used his longest finger, pressing even deeper this time. He groaned as her tight channel walls yielded to him. Her pussy was just as tight on his cock. His need to fill her almost overwhelmed him. He fought to breathe. He wanted her, now. As he pulled his finger out, she began to struggle, fighting again.
Silently asking for more punishment.
She squawked as another set of handprints appeared. Her ass was pinking up well. She writhed on his lap, moaning and jerking. He leaned close to her head. She had her eyes jammed shut. She panted, fighting to breathe just as much as he.
“You finished fighting me?” he whispered. “I know you want my hard cock in your pussy. You’re already wet and hot from my hand. You feel my cock under your wet belly? I’m going to do more than spank you, Casey. I’m going to lie you on your belly with your legs spread, just like you are now, and fill that pussy with my cock.”
She made a sound deep in her throat, one that he heard when she was needy. But she had to be the one to end this.
“Byron’s so eager to have your mouth on his cock that he’s pumping it like his hand is your lips. After you come hard, screaming my name, Byron’s going to take a turn with you. And you’re going to scream again. Right?”
She didn’t answer. He smacked her again. “Answer the question!”
“Yes!”
“Yes, I want your cock in me. Now!”
Byron released her legs and Cole lifted her off his lap. He quickly turned and lay her where he’d sat. She pulled herself farther up the bed, into position, and spread her legs for him. He took her hips, aimed his cock, and thrust inside. He groaned.
“God, Casey, you feel so good!”
Just like his finger in her ass, her pussy walls clutched him tight. He seated half of himself in her. Pulling back, just an inch, he shoved forward again, all the way to the end. He leaned over.
“This what you want, sweet Casey?”
“Yes!”
He began pumping, eyeing the pink marks he’d branded her with. She was his, forever, and by God he was going to make sure she knew it! She grunted every time his balls hit her clit. He sped up, the tight wire of need turning white hot. She was near, but not enough. He lifted her hips off the bed, changed angle to aim down, and kept pumping. She screamed his name, his pussy clenched down on him, and he erupted into her.
He found himself bent over her back, gasping for breath.
“My turn to help the lady,” said Byron.
Cole backed away, almost staggering. Byron flipped Casey onto her back. She lazily opened her eyes. She smiled.
“More?”
Byron chuckled and filled her with one thrust. He bent over, playing with her nipples for a moment. Then he kissed her. Cole watched, amazed. It was as if the two of them fought to devour each other. When Casey fell back, panting hard, her lips were as swollen as her pussy.
“Now that’s a kiss.” She gasped the words between breaths.
“Looks like I need a few lessons,” said Cole.
“You kiss good, but different,” said Casey. She looked at Cole’s cock, still half-erect. “All three of you have something special.”
“You ready for my specialty?” asked Byron. He didn’t wait for an answer.
Cole left them to it. His head buzzed and he needed to sit before he fell over. He’d damn well miss Casey while she stayed at the hotel with Sophie, but he had to know she was safe. A group of men camping out on Rivers’ land was bad news.
There was no way in hell that he’d let her get within a dozen miles of rough men. It didn’t matter that she’d taken care of herself for her first twenty-one years. She belonged to him now, as well as Byron and that rascal Marshall. They would be the ones to protect their woman.
A high feminine scream was quickly followed by a coarse grunting of release. God, he hoped he didn’t sound as bad as that. His cock twitched, rising for another round.
Instead of taking its lead he dressed and headed to the barn to get the wagon ready. Casey would be needing to bring a few dresses and such to stay at the hotel. He wanted their wife to look and feel good when she was in town. With luck she’d be back in a day or two.
They’d get up a posse, roust those men out, and pass the word that even with half the ranchers moving cattle, they could take care of their own. He wouldn’t think of anything going wrong with that scenario.
Chapter 24
Casey looked around the mercantile for Molly. She’d come in the back door, still not used to being accepted. But instead of the young woman a marmalade cat trotted toward her from behind the pickle barrel. It swished around Casey’s skirt, making a rusty meow sound. She bent over and scratched its chin. It bumped her leg, demanding more. She laughed and knelt to pat it. Purring filled ear ears. So did the unmistakable sound of kisses.
“Molly?”
A high-pitched squeak and scramble followed. Molly came out from behind the winter coat display. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes bright, and her lips swollen. Casey craned her head but Molly took her arm and pulled her to the front of the store.
“Please don’t tell the Tanners about that,” she whispered.
“Only if you tell me who you were kissing.”
Molly flushed even pinker. “Ulysses,” she whispered. “Ulysses Tanner. He came out here to take over his great-uncle’s store so Patsy and John could slow down.” She looked around to make sure no one was near. “He’s going to ask Doc to marry me.”
Casey pointed to Molly’s dress. “You missed a buttonhole.” Molly looked down, noticed the misalignment, and scrambled to fix it. “Or maybe Ulysses missed it.” The blush deepened.
A young man appeared behind Molly. He was about five inches taller than Molly, and skinny. Light brown hair, neatly trimmed, with a moustache to match. His face was as red as hers. They looked at each other. Casey felt that if she stepped away for a second they’d be kissing again. It made her own blood heat and her pussy throb.
“Is there anything I may help you with, Mrs. Taylor?”
His voice suited his body, thin and far weaker than Casey’s husbands. But Molly looked like he could hang the moon for her.
“I’m sure Molly can help me set up an account, Mr. Tanner.”
His eyes shifted to Molly. He smiled and almost looked handsome. “I’d best ask Doctor and Mrs. Henley before Doc gets hauled out of town again.” He nodded politely at Casey. “A pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
Molly watched him walk to the back of the store. She sighed, smiling as if no one else existed. Casey had heard Molly’s story. She’d seen some bad things in her life, but nothing like what Molly and Sarah had gone through. After the wonderful nights Casey had spent with her men the thought of a stranger touching her made her skin crawl.
“You want a separate account so you can buy things your husbands don’t know about? That’s what some of the other wives do,” said Molly, suddenly all business. She opened the black ledger on the counter. “After all, how can you buy them a present if they have to approve every purchase? How much did Cole say to move into your account?”
“It’s not Sweetwater Ranch money but my own. I got ten dollars for shooting Mr. Rivers. Ben Elliott is holding it for me.”
“Ten dollars it is,” said Molly. She flipped to a new page and carefully wrote “Casey Taylor” at the top. She left it open to dry and lifted her eyes. “Anything you’d like to get right away?”
Casey looked around the shop. She’d only peeked in the window before, or carried wrapped parcels to waiting carriages in return for a penny or two. There was almost everything in the world here. Coats and boots, ribbons and lace, coffee and—
“I’d like to buy some tea, please.”
Molly led her to the black metal case, painted in gold. Casey looked closely. Three different types of tea were displayed, each with a different scene on the front. The first showed a woman picking what must be tea leaves. A small child towed a tall, wheeled basket filled with leaves. It was labeled “oolong.” The second picture showed two women dancing with fans, or perhaps they were fanning the leaves. It didn’t have a label. The third showed a kneeling woman making tea. It was labeled “gunpowder.”
“That tea is mixed with gunpowder?”
Molly smiled at Casey’s question. “No, that’s just the name. It’s called that because the leaves are rolled in a ball. What type of tea do you like?”
She’d had only drunk tea twice, both times in the hotel kitchen. “I don’t know. Sophie just called it tea.”
“Why don’t I give you a twist of each to try?”
Casey carried her twists of brown paper, each carefully labeled, back to the hotel. Byron had carried her bags up to a single room, kissed her thoroughly, then left her with orders not to stray or get into trouble. Of course, she had to do something to show him she was not a child, so had gone to the mercantile. The only other place she could have gone was Nora Dawes’s dress and millinery shop, but that would require help from someone who knew about such things.
She was only getting used to wearing dresses and had no idea how to choose one. And hats were even worse! Her old black one had kept off the hot sun and rain, hid her face, and was good for swatting dust off her clothes. She was ready to ask Sophie if she could peel potatoes or something, just so she wasn’t alone, whe
n a knock came at the door.
“Lily and the judge are back from Helena,” said Sophie. “She has news about what’s going on. We’re invited to visit for a cup of tea.”
Casey swallowed. Visit the elegant lady who’d given her the bronze wedding dress? She looked down. Her blue dress was clean and neat, but nothing special.
“Don’t worry about what you look like,” said Sophie with a smile. “It’s just us women.” She looked down the corridor and lowered her voice. “We’re the ones who really know what’s going on. We only tell the men what they need to know.”
Casey joined Sophie in a conspiratorial smile. “Cole said I’d be in the way of the posse. I want to know what’s really going on.”
“Welcome to the sisterhood.”
* * * *
“They were here, but not for long,” said Owen Barstow.
The sheriff pointed to the tracks that had shuffled at the back door. Byron was the most observant of the three of them so he’d gone with the small posse. Henry Bennett and Nevin MacDougal rounded out the group. Nevin dismounted and checked the tracks.
“None I recognize for sure,” he said. He leaned his head close to the ground and looked at one sideways. “This one has a cut heel. Sheldrake had a pair of boots like that, but so could others.”
Byron dismounted once Nevin finished. After carefully inspecting the porch he climbed the steps. His boots echoed as he crossed to the window. He shaded his eyes with his hand, and looked in the kitchen.
“No traps that I can see.” He went to the door then turned. “You mind?” he asked the others.
“Be my guest,” said Barstow. “It’s your woman these hombres might be after.”
Keeping his body to the side, Byron turned the handle and pushed the door open. Hinges creaked in the still air. He stepped through and looked. A cast-iron stove squatted in the center of the room. If there’d been any pots and pans, someone had rousted them. There was nothing in the room other than a rusty chain lying under the stove. Byron bent to take a closer look. One end was hooked to the stove. He picked up the length of chain to find the other end. It had a shackle, just the right size for a slender female ankle.