Barefoot Bride for Three (8 page)

When he knew she was close he pressed the tip of his wet thumb in her bottom. She squealed and bucked against his hand like an unbroken filly. He extended her ride until she collapsed. He stood up, watching her breasts as she panted and tiny aftershocks made her shiver.

He nibbled his way up her body, giving her a chance to find herself again. She kept her eyes closed until he plundered her mouth. He started gently, but when she pressed her hands against his head to keep him close, he thrust his tongue into her just as he wanted his cock in her sweetness. She sucked him deep, demanding more. He pulled away and backed up a few steps before he lost even more control. He hadn’t been this hard and horny since his first visit to Miss Lily’s Parlor.

Her eyes opened languidly. “Oh, my,” she said. “I had no idea…”

“That’s just a taste, my delightful wife. Are you ready for more?”

“There’s more?”

He took her words as a challenge, using his fingers and tongue to bring her once again to the edge of release. But this time he slowed before completion, letting her passion dim a bit. He wanted to make her scream his name, but this time she would have to ask for more. He wanted a wife who would ask for what she wanted rather than expect him to know. He moved away and waited until she opened her eyes.

The tip of her pink tongue pressed down on her lower lip. He winked and she pouted in reply. Beth was a determined woman, but he was even more stubborn and would wait her out. He knew how to read body language. It worked with horses, poker, and fights. No reason it wouldn’t work on a woman. Beth’s passion was something he’d hoped for, but not expected. It meant he wouldn’t have to tell her to shush. No, he’d just nibble along the side of her neck, and she’d forget what she was about to say.

His father said it worked like a charm with his strong-minded mother, not that she hadn’t done the same to him on occasion. They’d loved each other far more deeply than they had their children. He wouldn’t make that mistake. He and Beth could enjoy each other’s bodies and company without love destroying those around them.

Loving, now that was another kettle of fish. He planned to have lots of that, starting now. She wanted more, and he’d give her such an explosion that she’d not remember the initial pain of a virgin becoming his woman.

He slowly, deliberately, unbuttoned his pants as she watched. He tossed them aside and kept going, forcing himself to do it slowly. Only his lifetime need for total control had kept him from exploding dozens of times as he pleasured her. When he finally dropped his drawers and released the hardest, largest erection of his life, it pointed to her like an enormous compass needle. She inhaled and scuttled back on the bed.

“Oh, my,” she whispered. Her eyes were wide but, he thought, more in fascination than horror.

He pulled on his foreskin. A drop at the tip glistened. Staring, she licked her lips. She watched, mouth open. He pulled his sheath all the way back, his deep plum head thick and hard.

She sat up on her knees, to see better he hoped.

“If you want me, you’ll have to ask,” he said. “This way, I can be sure you’re ready to be my wife in all ways. Once I enter you, our wedding can’t be annulled.”

She frowned and bit her lip. She pushed her hair behind one ear with her hand, revealing a firm breast and taut nipple.

“I want you in every way, Trace Elliott,” she said, almost growling. She reached out her hand, then pulled back. “Can I touch it?”

“You can do anything you want with me, wife.”

He stepped to the edge of the bed. She took him in her soft hands. His cock jumped and he immediately realized this was not a good idea. Control only went so far, and he was at his limit.

She leaned over and licked his tip.

“Whoa!” He backpedalled so fast he almost tripped over his boots. He’d damn near erupted like a geyser.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Shh, little one,” he said, fighting the urge to plunge deep into her pouting mouth. “I want you so bad I might choke you. Lean back.”

She did so, heels against the edge of the mattress, knees apart. Her pussy, swollen and red from his mouth, wept for him.

“Sweetheart, are you ready?”

She touched herself with one hand, spreading her lips as he had done earlier. “This will make you my husband? No one could take me from you?”

No one was going to take her anywhere but him for a while. Not even Simon or Jack. No how, no way. Not trusting his wrecked vocal cords, he nodded.

“Then I want you now.”

Her red gates clenched as if he was already there. He groaned and stepped close. He set his eager cock between her lower lips, rubbing back and forth while he massaged her breasts. He hadn’t paid near enough attention to them. Her eyes widened when he squeezed her nipples between thumbs and forefingers.

“Like that, do you?”

She nodded, so he pinched a little harder. She arched her back. With his next slow thrust his dark purple head stretched her, preparing her to take all of him. He moved slowly, fighting the need to slam deep, to take her hard and fast. But this was about Beth’s needs, not his own.

Another inch and he hit her barrier. He waited a moment, then pinched her clit. When she arched her back he shoved forward, breaking through. He waited, panting and trembling.

“You okay?” he growled.

She nodded. He slid in and out, just an inch or three, building her tension. She writhed, moaning and thrusting herself onto him. He caught her clit between his knuckles. She came, her internal spasms squeezing him, and all bets were off. His control, something he’d staked his life on again and again, shattered when he plunged deep inside her. He pumped hard, clasping her hips and pulling her to him as he thrust forward. Faster and faster as she keened until she clenched against him again and he exploded.

He jerked like a puppet, pumping his life into his woman.

His wife.

His future.

A slow, satisfied smile appeared on the lovely face below him. He held her hips to stay inside her until his head stopped spinning. A loud buzzing filled his ears and the room tilted. When he pulled out, still semi-hard, the tip of his cock trailed a thin line of red down her thigh.

He used cool water to wash off the evidence of her lost maidenhead. She barely opened her eyes. He scooped her into his arms and laid her high on the bed. When he lay beside her, she rolled to him, her luscious body half on top of him. He wrapped an arm around her to hold her tight, threw the covers over them with his free hand, and let the world disappear.

Chapter Five

A whisper in her dream made Beth smile lazily. She lay on her back, warm and comfy. A deep, guttural groan erupted nearby. Lips enfolded her nipple, and she arched into his touch, the dream so real. A dream that, had her parents known, would have sent her to an asylum for fallen women.

“More,” she murmured.

“It’s my turn, wife.”

Wife? She wasn’t married in her dreams—there weren’t any men worth it. She opened her eyes to find dark ones laughing down at her. “You offered me something a while back.”

Heat shot from her belly to her face. She shut her eyes again. Though it was low on the horizon, the full moon lit the bed.

“I know you’re awake, wife.”

She reached to pull the covers over her head. Though he held her wrist gently, she couldn’t move.

“I have a name, you know,” she groused, glaring.

He lay on his side, head propped up on his elbow, looking down at her. Grinning. She focused her attention on his wide, strong chest. She’d never been so at ease with anyone. This man, a stranger a few short hours ago, was her husband. A husband who had done such wonderful things with her. His touch, gentle or rough, made her tingle. Beside him, she felt safe and cherished, as if he really cared about her.

All her life she’d wanted to matter to someone for more than what she could provide. While she enjoyed his company, he had needed a wife and she, a husband. She didn’t expect him to treat her so gently once they reached his cabin. She would enjoy what she could as long as possible and let tomorrow take care of itself.

“Yep, you’re Mrs. Trace Elliott,” he said. “My wife.”

“My name is Elizabeth Elliott. You may, however, call me Beth.”

“I’ll call you whatever I want. Princess. Goddess. And sometimes Kate and a royal pain in the ass. But always, my woman.”

She twitched her lip, refusing to meet his eyes. She’d never admit it, but something in her reveled in his possession of her. Of all the men she’d met, none could compare to her husband. He belonged to her now.

“I feel safe with you,” she said, more to herself than her husband.

“No one will hurt you again.”

She saw affection and pride on his face. Not love. He’d insisted he’d never love her.

But what did she know of love? A wife was lucky if her husband didn’t beat her or spend all his money on drink. She had one who wanted to please her in ways she’d never known existed. A husband who would provide her with children to love. He said respect and honesty was what kept a marriage going. She’d not known any of it growing up. So far, it felt wonderful.

She glanced farther down the bed. The object that had brought her so much delight rested on the sheet. It grew as she watched. Her breasts swelled in reaction. She remembered how satisfied she’d felt before falling asleep.

And what she’d offered.

She reached down and stroked him with her fingertips. It felt hard and soft at the same time. A dark eye peeped out of its hiding place. She scrunched down in the bed so she could grasp it with both hands. Trace murmured encouragement. He’d brought her so much pleasure with his mouth. Was that what he wanted her to do in return?

She sat up. He rolled onto his back and pressed a pillow under his head.

“You’ll have to tell me what to do,” she said.

“You told me you have a brain. Use it.”

Trace encouraged her to break free
from
the repressed way she’d been raised. He was a hard, rough-living man with a voice to match. He’d never fit into a category Eastern society marked “acceptable.” She knew none of the girls at Miss Primula’s Ladies’ College would condescend to even sniff down their noses at someone like him, even if his voice were perfect. Yet he wanted her, and she’d discovered a sensual joy with him, one she’d never imagined. Even more, she’d found a man who wanted to please her, at least in bed

She stroked him, running his cover back and forth so his organ appeared and disappeared. It grew so long it couldn’t hide anymore. She grasped him in both hands, leaned over and licked the dark tip. He jerked under her grasp, but she held tight. She rolled his taste over her tongue. Salty and earthy. A drop had gathered again. She wiped it off with one finger and, watching his eyes, brought it to her mouth. She opened her mouth and slid her finger inside, slowly pumping as he had done to her a few hours ago.

“You’re asking for it, woman.”

His growled threat, rather than frightening her, made her bold. She turned her back, straddling him, and leaned over. She held him tight in one hand and pressed him into her mouth. He slowly pumped, her mouth making wet, sloppy sounds as he moved in and out.

She got more comfortable, leaning farther over to take him deeper. When she stopped for a breath, he pressed his fingers into her. She jerked in surprise and delight.

“Follow my lead,” he said.

She did, sucking him deep when he plunged his fingers into her, flicking her tongue when he did the same to her. She widened her knees and slid back so he would have better access. Wantonly spreading her most intimate parts to him, she demanded satisfaction.

He pulled out of her grasp, growling deep. She sat up and turned around, unsure. Nostrils flaring, he eyed her like she was food and he’d been starving for years.

“Bend over. Hands and knees. Wide apart,” he ordered, every word crisp.

She thought about sassing back, but he anticipated her with an upraised eyebrow. She would obey, but on her terms. She slowly did as he asked, carefully settling her knees far apart before bending forward.

He covered her, his chest snug against her back, muscular thighs pressing against the back of hers. His manhood slid under her, spreading her folds wide. He grasped her breasts, squeezing them and rasping her nipples with his calluses. He slid one hand down her belly, pressing his cock hard against her, flicking her bud with his finger.

She moved her hips restlessly, trying to make him slide his cock into her. Nothing mattered but her need for him.

He finally pressed against her, easing his way in. She responded eagerly, pushing back until his groin rested snug against her. His balls swung gently to tap her sensitive flesh.

He pulled out, dragging slowly before thrusting deeper than before. He pressed on her back, bending her forward until she rested her forehead on her fists, bottom high in the air.

“Mmm, nice,” he murmured.

It was. So very nice. Long, lazy strokes stoked her engine, coal by coal. He flicked his finger against her and she clenched, the spark igniting the coal. She brought her knees closer together, the better to hold him, to increase the sensations.