Military Romance Collection: Contemporary Soldier Alpha Male Romance (187 page)

Chayla was not finished and she grabbed his still-hard length and climbed over his body. She settled down on top of his, groaning as he filled her. It felt too good to stop and Chayla started to move her hips slowly, squeezing him back to life. It grew inside of her, soon thrusting deep against her bottom. Her eyes closed and she touched her stomach where it pushed outward from his inner penetration. Charles moved his hand to hers and moved her fingers to her quim. They rubbed together, the dual stimulation bringing her to new heights.

She was soon lost to his upward rutting and playful hands, tugging on her dark tips. Chayla tried to keep up, but her body practically collapsed against him when another wave of bliss moved over her. She slid off of him before he was finished and Charles mounted her from behind, pulling her ass high to slide back in.Chayla moaned and buried her face into the mattress as his body slammed her over and over again from behind.

When he finally pulled away and released her, they were both breathing hard. She nestled against his chest and was quickly asleep, wrapped in his safe arms. Sleep took longer for Charles, holding her tightly against his chest. He felt like he had been given a second chance and he was never going to let her go.

THE END

And here is a sample from a Victorian Story we think you might enjoy:

Chapter 1

“You are pulling too tight,” Cora Ashton gasped as she stood, her delicate hands pressed to the wall in her dressing room. “My ribs are breaking as we speak!”

“It has to close, Miss Ashton,” Edith grunted, pressing a stockinged foot to Cora’s rump and yanking at the lacing on the back of the crimson dress. “Be glad your mother does not require you to wear a bustle.”

Cora rolled her eyes. The outrageous garment made women waddle like ducks, and she would no sooner have worn one than put on a man’s suit and paraded about town. She grunted as Edith pulled one last time with all her might and began to tie the wretched lace bodice. “Why everything must be so tight I will never understand,” she mumbled. Her long, chocolate tresses were already pinned tight and close to her head in a French twist. She much preferred the loose braid wrapped in a bun, but Mother refused to allow such inappropriateness at church.

“There!” Edith announced with satisfaction. “Now, for your jacket.”

Groaning, Cora held out her arms and let her head fall back on her shoulders while she still could, as the choking neck of her dress had not yet been fastened. “If I wear a jacket, what difference is there in leaving the lace a bit looser toward the top?”

“Whining and whimpering are unbecoming of a lady,” Edith chastised, squaring the shoulders of the jacket and puffing the large leg of mutton sleeves. “Besides, would you rather worry that your bosom cause a distraction the preacher?”

“I would rather
not
worry that I am going to pass out during the sermon.” Cora examined her appearance in the mirror. Admittedly, the cuirassed bodice of the dress elongated and slimmed her figure to the waifish look of the other debutantes that were now her contemporaries. She turned and frowned at the long train dragging the floor behind her. “What a waste of material!” she grumbled. “It’s only going to get dirty and coarse and tear.” It stretched at least four feet behind her and had no use other than to further weigh her down.

As Edith began fussing around her head, pinning crimson roses, white pearl butterflies, and velvety black feathers in it, Cora sighed and gazed out the window. The residents of the upscale neighborhood had begun to board their carriages to ride to the opulent church, close enough that Cora could have walked to the front door quicker than ridden, considering that she could have weaved her way between all the rich transportation.

“Money shouldn’t dictate religion,” she whispered to herself. She’d been much happier socializing with the Lutherans at her former church, but Mother again demanded they conform to Society, now that they were no longer middle-class, and they attended the Episcopalian church now. As far as Cora was concerned, the middle-class had far more freedom and were much happier for it. “Are you finished yet?” she asked impatiently. The ankle boots she wore had a low heel and pointed toe, and the leather was still stiff. Her feet were going to be mangled by the time she could remove the offensive footwear.

“Cora! We’re leaving! Stop making Edith’s job tedious and come on!” Mother called, her voice high pitched and irritated. She must already be waiting by the front door with Pa.

“Let me button your collar, child,” Edith said, keeping her voice quiet. One thing Cora definitely appreciated about her maid was her discretion. She never spoke loudly about anything with which Mother would find reason for disapproval.

“You’d best hurry, now,” Edith told her, patting her rump with a short chuckle. Cora quickly bent to kiss the shorter woman’s cheek picked up her skirts as best she could, and hustled toward her parents. She still managed to catch the toe of one boot on her hem and nearly tripped. Mother pursed her lips and shook her head but said nothing, merely quirking her head toward the carriage that waited outside the open front door.

Reluctantly allowing the footman to assist her up and into the dreadful ride, Cora gazed around her, huffing at the uppity mannerisms of the other young women, noses high in the air and smiles more like smirks. “Hullo, there, Herbert!” Pa called, waving to the gentleman across the way. Pa had easily made acquaintances among Society, as had Mother. Only Cora lagged behind, a problem Mother vowed would be resolved before the ‘season’ began.

Cora followed her father’s gaze to the sizeable man, who shifted impatiently as a younger man shined his shoes and waved back. But she wasn’t particularly concerned with the man who looked like he might pop his buttons at any moment. The figure at his feet uncurled, standing straight, and was quite familiar.

Joseph Watts.

He turned, and Cora gasped, covering her mouth before Mother heard and told her to watch her manners. Joseph had been the cutest boy, one all her little girlfriends had giggled and fawned over. Cora hadn’t seen him in a very long time now, and he’d matured into a handsome young man with a devastating, crooked grin.

A memory of making mud pies and splashing each other in the river that ran through the middle of the woods flashed in her mind, and Cora forced her gaze forward, unfocused. Joseph Watts was not someone to be pondered, and neither were those old memories. The coach shot forward, and Cora barely moved, her dress too tight for her to lose her balance.

They were lined up behind the others in minutes, and Cora let her gaze wander over the trussed up attendees with disinterest. Charlie Cantrell must’ve see her glance his way, tipping his hat to her with a broad, toothy smile. He was a handsome man, not her senior by too far, and he was quite wealthy. As the time approached for her own coming out in the next few months, Cora knew this was the sort of eligible bachelor Mother and Pa would approve of as a husband, and that should be her own desire.

So why, as she smiled back at Charlie, did she imagine him to have Joseph’s face?

Chapter 2

“Good morning, Joseph!”

Joseph Watts tipped his bowler hat to Harry as he strolled down the lane, whistling in the bright sunlight. He’d grown bored of the rain and felt infused with energy in the warmth of the sun’s rays. “You should be at church, Harry! I’m sure you’ve got plenty of sin to atone for!”

Harry vaulted over the fence between them and fell into step beside him. “Is that why you go?” Harry teased.

“I should atone,” Joseph nodded. “But I go to ask the Lord to help my sister.” His amusement sobered instantly as he thought of Grace. “It’s why I’ve been up for three hours already, working my fingers to the bone. To do what I must to support my family.”

“You’re a good brother, Joseph,” Harry told him in a rare, mirthless moment. They passed the people gathering at the Episcopalian church, and Harry scoffed. “It looks like we aren’t dressed for the Lord, my friend. We forgot to change into our white dandy pants with our top coats and top hats.”

Joseph agreed with the derisive assessment. He couldn’t afford to wear a new collared shirt and ascot every Sunday. He could barely afford the soap to wash the clothes he had. Besides, being humble before the Lord was far more important than flaunting wealth in front of Him and the neighbors. “Don’t worry about them,” he said quietly. “They can put on whatever show they want. When we die, our souls are all bared naked, and nothing can hide that corruption.”

With a deep, echoing laugh, Harry shook his head. “Well said! I can’t say I’d mind seeing more than the souls bared on some of those young ladies.” He waggled his eyebrows, whistling crudely to several young women standing nearby, gossiping and giggling. They gasped and gave him a look of disgust and offense that had Joseph laughing now.

But his smile faded as one particular girl caught his eye, and not for the first time this morning. It had been a long time since he’d seen her, and he could not understand why he suddenly had seen her twice today.

Cora Ashton had always been a beauty, but now, she was positively radiant. As much as he enjoyed poking fun at the fashion of the rich, Joseph admitted to himself that wealth became Cora. The hair decorations added a color to her pale skin, which was smooth like the porcelain trinkets sold in the window next to the carpenter’s shop he worked in during the week. And that bright dress showed how her boyish, childhood figure had matured into something to draw any man’s attention.

And it seemed to have caught the eye of that Cantrell boy.

They stood, talking together, and Cora looked entirely bored. He knew that expression, even if it had been – how many years now? He smiled to himself as he thought back to the days of chasing her through the fields, not caring if their clothes, bought from third- and fourth-hand shops, were torn and tattered by the thistles and brambles. At least five years, he realized.

“For which one are you pining, Joseph?” Harry asked in a sing-song voice, punching Joseph in the shoulder to get his attention.

Dragging his eyes away from the angel he’d nearly forgotten but still held a soft spot for, Joseph jerked his head toward the lane to church. “Come on, Harry, before we’re late for the Lord’s meal.” He took off at a fast pace, gazing once over his shoulder at Cora. Did she even remember him? He thought he’d seen her staring at him while he shined the fat man’s shoes. But he could very well be mistaken.

“You aren’t letting your eyes wander to the Caldwell girl, are you?” Harry asked, catching up to him. “Because I hear rumor she’s already spoken for. It just hasn’t been announced yet.”

Joseph scowled. “What matter is it anyway? Neither you nor I would ever catch favor with any of those young ladies. We don’t have two pennies to rub together, and those girls are spoilt to have anything their hearts desire. I can barely keep up with my own needs. Never could I dream to take care of a woman so needy for things.”

“But you want one of them anyway. I saw it in your eyes, Joseph. Don’t try to hide it.”

Joseph stopped moving and turned to glare at his friend. “The only thing I’m trying to hide is a quickness to anger, and you’re making that very difficult for me.” He hurried up the steps to the sound of a hymn being sung and stepped inside, crossing himself and staring at Harry until he did the same, reaching to remove Joseph’s hat for him.

Try as he might, though, Joseph couldn’t concentrate on the sermon. He was anxious to get back to Grace, needed to go to the market, and curious about Cora, now that he’d noticed her in her new lifestyle. She was the vision of perfection, but the boredom on her lovely face and sadness in the eyes he remembered as being so much brighter made his chest ache. She wasn’t happy, that was for sure, and he wondered if she missed her old life, her old friends, at all.

Of course, that was a ridiculous assumption! She could have anything she wanted now, anything at all, including a rich suitor who wanted to marry her and buy her the world. She didn’t want for anything, and she never had to worry about her next meal. Joseph wasn’t jealous. He didn’t want the restrictions that were so often placed on the rich by the rest of the wealthy. But he envied the men who had the means to keep Cora content in life. He would have given so much for her at one time, and now, the years had slowly parted them so it was too late, and there was no longer a reason to dwell on it.