The Outlaw (Montana Men Book 3) (7 page)

I waved my hand through the air. "Not about that, about Meecham's money. Why didn't you tell me the inheritance was substantial?"

His eyes widened at the question. "I didn't tell you because it didn't matter."

"Didn't matter? A mine? A bank? Is that why you
stole
me from Meecham so you could get rich?"

Finn narrowed his eyes and stared at me. He took his hat from his head and placed it on mine, tilting the front back enough so that it didn't cover my face. It was much too large and wobbled slightly, but I could feel how my neck and face were shaded by the wide brim. "You were eavesdropping."

He didn't pose it as a question so I didn't have to respond.

"Why didn't you tell me? I asked about it, yet you diverted my attentions."

"Yes, because it
doesn't matter,
" he repeated emphatically.

"Why not? Because I don't matter? You got what you wanted so now I'm inconsequential?"

"When I first met you, you feared I would strike you when I became angry." His voice was cold and clipped.
Angry.

I swallowed and realized my mistake.

"You're angry now."

He nodded. The sun glinted off his red hair, a crease from the hat denting the curls. "Yes, Caroline. I'm angry."

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath. Counted.

"Caroline, what the hell are you doing?" he muttered.

"Counting."

"What the hell for?" He sounded more exasperated than before.

"Trying to calm myself."

"Maybe I should try it," he muttered. "I certainly need calm around you."

My eyes flew open at his words. "Are you going to hit me?"

"What did I tell you about that?" he asked. His horse shifted and my animal moved with his.

"That you wouldn't strike me."

"That's right. You knew I wouldn't lay a finger on you in harm, otherwise you wouldn't have riled my temper by casting aspersions on my character."

"I knew no such thing," I countered.

His red brow went up. "Did you fear me when you spoke your feelings or only after when I reminded you how riled you made me?"

I considered his words. "After."

"Which means you are starting to trust me."

No argument was at hand so I remained silent.

"If you trust me, then why would you think I'd marry you for Meecham's money?"

"Didn't you marry me to spite him?" I gripped the pommel beneath my palms.

"That was only a perk. I married you because I wanted
you.
"

"Then why would you keep Meecham's money a secret?"

Finn sighed, ran his hand through his hair. "It's not a secret. I told you he had an inheritance. We were both completely distracted from the topic by almost two days of fucking. You were spanked for speaking of Meecham before when we were naked. I had no intention of speaking of him again for a while. I didn't tell you about the amount of his money because I don't care about it."

"You don't care about all the money? The bank? The mine?"

"Or his mansion in town," he added. "I don't care about it at all. Caroline, look around you. This ranch, it's mine. All mine. The land in every direction as far as you can see. Do you know how much it's worth? How much
I'm
worth? I don't need his money. I don't
want
his money. I'm wealthy in my own right."

"Then why didn't you tell me so?"

"Because I was fucking
you.
Jesus, woman. You were – are - all I wanted out of the arrangement. Not spiting Meecham. Not the will. Nothing. Just you."

"Oh dear," I muttered, my shoulders slumping.

"Oh dear, is right. Hang on," he told me, turning our horses around. My leg bumped into his as we rode back toward the stable. "You've been a bad girl, Caroline."

This time, he wasn't playing.

I felt terrible. I'd eavesdropped on part of a conversation, not hearing any of what he'd just shared with me. I'd speculated on his motives and assumed the worst. I'd doubted his character and, in his eyes, tarnished his honor.

The return ride felt interminable. Finn said nothing more and I felt the brunt, the weight of those words the entire way. I
had
been a bad girl. By the time we approached the stable, I was near tears. Some of the men working on a portion of the fence as we returned looked our way. I took a few deep breaths to stifle my imminent tears. I didn't want to shame myself, nor Finn, any more than I already had.

Finn dismounted, came around and helped me down, then tossed the reins to Frank who'd been waiting. "We'll be in the stable. No one is to interrupt." The tone of Finn's words, the stiffness of his bearing, was an easy indication to the man we were not going to have a secret tryst in a stall. It did not prevent my cheeks from reddening, however.

The air was cool inside, the pungent animal aroma permeating the air. Finn held my hand and led me down the long center hallway and into an empty stall. The door had been slid to the side and the interior was clean, with fresh hay on the floor, readied for a horse. "Stay here."

Finn exited the stall and I heard his footfall retreat. Peeking around the doorway, I watched him lift a saddle from a rack and place it over a waist high fence that was part of a small, indoor pen. What on earth was he doing? He just had two horses saddled. Grabbing the wooden saddle rack, he carried it easily back to the stall where I waited. I hopped out of the way as he came through the doorway and placed it in the middle of the room.

Wiping his hands on his pants, I noticed his corded forearms and his long fingers. I heated just remembering what he could do with those fingers. The idea evaporated when he looked to me, his green eyes blazing. He directed with his head. "Over the rack, Caro."

I frowned in confusion. "What?"

"Bend over the saddle rack. It's time for your punishment."

I felt the blood rush from my face and I took a step backward, bumping into the rough wooden wall of the stall. "I thought you...."

I swallowed.

Finn sighed. "I'm not going to hit you. But I am going to spank you. Now over the rack on your own or I will put you there myself. With an extra count of five."

The idea of being spanked held no appeal. I glanced out the doorway.

"Caroline," Finn warned.

There was nothing I could do. I was in the wrong. I'd blatantly and clearly shamed him and accused him of dishonor. If I tried to escape the punishment, it would only be more insulting to him. I could only imagine what he thought of me now.

Slowly, I walked over to the rack. A crossbeam, about as wide as two of my hands, was used to hold a saddle. Petite as I was, it was at waist height. Solid wooden legs came out at an angle to support the structure. I'd seen a saddle rack before, but never imagined it could be used for just such a purpose.

"Come around here." Finn directed me to the end of it, not the side. With a gentle hand on my back, he bent me over it. My head extended past the far end, the wood cool and hard beneath my belly and chest.

Finn came around to the front and knelt down. Without a word, he tied my wrists, one then the other, to the legs of the saddle rack.

"Finn, what are you--"

The look in his eyes had me biting back the remainder of my question. Gone was the careful, tender man who had taken me again and again in bed--and other places around the house. In his place was a man who was ready to mete out punishment to a naughty wife. Tears clogged my throat and filled my eyes. I didn't like to see Finn gaze upon me this way. His disappointment was palpable. As he used the leather to tie me securely, he checked both restraints to ensure they weren’t too tight or binding.

I tugged at his handiwork. There was a small amount of give, but I was not going anywhere. From his crouch, Finn reached forward and took hold of my dress at the base of my throat and tugged. His result was to rip the small buttons. Only a few came undone. He was not rough in the action; the buttons were dainty enough against the efforts of his big hands. Once the material was parted, he worked his fingers lower between me and the beam. He tugged again, sending more buttons flying, spreading the fabric wide. Soon my dress was ripped and parted to my navel.

He looked at me as he reached into my corset and easily lifted my breasts free. From this position, they were almost spilling out as they were. I wanted to question him but I knew it would fall on deaf ears. Finn wasn't interested in anything I had to say.

He stood and left the room. He was going to leave me like this, with my breasts exposed and pinned to a saddle rack? It was most likely just a minute, but it felt much longer when he returned. Kneeling in front of me again, I could see in his hand he held thin rope. He placed a short section on the ground and fiddled with the other, attaching a piece of metal, perhaps a buckle or a fastener used in some part of tackle. Finn nimbly tied the small object to the string's end, then reached forward and--

"Finn!" I cried out, trying to lift my body away from him. He was tying the narrow rope to my nipple! Carefully, he pulled on the tip with one hand and wrapped the rope around with the other before wrapping it snugly around me and tied it in a knot. Letting go, the rope dangled straight down, the weight of the metal tack piece pulling down on my nipple. "What are you doing? It hurts!"

He was right in front of me, our faces only a few inches apart. I could see the same hard glint in his eye, but now it mixed with a slight glaze of desire. He was looking down at his handiwork as I hissed at the feel of my nipple being pulled taut, the small weight tugging downward.

"Does it really hurt?" he murmured, flicking the weight with his finger, which made the rope sway. My nipple moved with the motion and I sucked in a breath. It didn't truly hurt, but it was a constant pull, a constant...oh my. "I didn't think so."

He quickly worked the other rope with another tack piece onto my other nipple, flicking the weight as he watched both of the objects swing. Looking in my eyes, he must have been able to gauge my comfort, to see that this was not causing me true pain, for he nodded his head - for who I didn't know - and stood. Glancing up, all I could see was the front placket of his pants and the hard outline of his cock through the fabric.

I tried to follow him with my eyes as he walked behind me, but when I turned my head, it pulled one breast up, which made the weight sway. I turned back, not wishing for that to continue. Working my dress up my legs, he bunched it at my waist. A foot nudged my feet apart until I was truly open and exposed.

"I like that you aren't wearing any drawers, Caroline. See how easily I can get to your pussy?" He didn't expect an answer and just continued to talk. "Let's see if you like having your nipples played with."

Fingers dipped directly into my open pussy. Finn sucked in a breath. "You're dripping."

I tried shifting my hips, but it moved the weights. Holding as still as I could, there was nothing I could do but let Finn play. For that was what his fingers were doing. They weren't working me as they usually did, bringing me to pleasure. They were just stroking over my slick flesh. It was pure torture. Somehow the pull on my nipples only made the touch of his fingers even hotter, even more intense, and I cried out.

Finn tsked me. "No, Caroline. Bad girls don't get to come now. I'll be back. Don't go anywhere."

He walked out of the room and I panicked.

"Finn!"

I heard him return and sighed in relief.

"You can't leave me like this," I begged, turning my head to glance up at him. "What if someone sees me?"

He shrugged as if he were indifferent. "Then you can tell them what you did wrong. I won't be long."

This time he did leave, his footfall dying away entirely, leaving me all alone, tied to a saddle rack. My breasts were exposed and they had weights pulling on my nipples. I could feel the air on my wet pussy. From the doorway, anyone could look in and see me, see my pussy facing directly at them.

I heard men outside. They were not inside the stable, but I knew they could come in at any time. I held my breath, listening as intently as possible to know if they were coming this way. My skin became damp from sweat, my nerves pushing me toward panic. My nipples began to throb, not in pain, but in pleasure, and my pussy clenched because of it. I looked down and saw they were pulled taut and pink, just the sight of the rope about them, the weights dangling toward the ground had me groaning.

Footfall approached again, this time not lingering outside the building but coming in. Was it Finn or another man? I held my breath. The sound became louder and stopped just outside the door. Turning my head, I saw Finn leaning against the doorway watching me. He wasn't looking at my face, but everywhere else. In his hand, he held the largest sock darner - I recognized it by the darker wood - and the jar of lubricant. I knew what was coming next.

"You are so beautiful, Caroline. I think you're going to be even prettier with a bright pink ass and the handle of this sock darner sticking out of your ass."

I let my head fall forward, letting my neck relax. There was nothing I could do.

"Ah, such a beautiful sight. Your submission pleases me, Caro. There's nothing you can do." He'd repeated my thoughts word for word. "You don't have to like being spanked, you don't have to like your ass played with, you don't have to like your nipples tugged. You can only accept that one of the men might see you. It's my choice. Not yours. I give you permission to like it. I give you permission to give over to the pleasure of it. Even though this is your punishment, I give you permission to come."

Before I could respond, his palm smacked against my bottom, the heat of it sharp and bright. I jerked and it set the weights swinging. "Oh god," I moaned.

"Hold still and take it, Caroline. Move and your nipples will take the punishment instead of your ass."

Spank.

This time I held as still as I could. His hand struck a different spot than last time, a different spot with each additional spank. Again and again he spanked me. "I wanted you. Only you."

He was speaking about Meecham's money. His words were accentuated with a separate palm smack. It made the words even more soul searing and I felt the intensity of them to my core. He was using my body to bring me to the edge - his spanking, the possibility of being seen, my worked nipples - and then pushing me over with his words. I started to cry while he spanked me further. I couldn't keep still, my crying preventing me from doing so, and the weighted ropes began to sway. The hot burn on my bottom and the tug on my nipples morphed into something warm, something hot beneath my skin. I could feel my clit pulsing, my pussy weeping and clenching. I was close to coming, even through my tears.

"I'm sorry, Finn. I didn't mean to question your honor."

Spank.

"I don't understand why...why you want me."

His hand stilled, ran over the fiery skin. "Why wouldn't I want you?"

I shook my head, lost in the feelings he was eliciting from my body. I groaned as the tug on my breasts intensified, just from duration alone.

"Because...because no one has ever really wanted me. Because I've been bad." I was admitting to killing my father, but I didn't say it. I couldn't say the words. He was punishing me for misconstruing his words and I could only imagine what he'd do when he discovered I was a murderer. Perhaps this punishment was worthy. He was too good for me. I deserved to be punished. I deserved my spanking. I deserved everything he meted out. Nothing could cleanse the
badness
from me. He couldn't do it.

"Yes, you've been bad, but you are accepting your punishment and when done, it will all be over."

I heard the lid for the lubricant, then felt his fingers, coated in the cold slick substance, press against my ass.

"I'm going to work the biggest plug in you, Caroline. We're going to stay right here until you take it. If the men come by, you can tell them why you're like this. I'll start with my fingers to get you ready. If you relax and push out, it will go in easier, and quicker."

Finn was true to his word - I was learning the hard way that he always was - and took his time just coating my ass, inside and out, with the slick lubricant, using his fingers to do so, to stretch me open. I had no idea how long it took before I felt the wide, round top of the sock darner pressing against me. He pushed, I tried to relax, he circled it, pushed some more. By the time he'd stretched me open farther than ever before, farther than I ever imagined, it slipped in. I was panting and gripping the legs of the saddle rack, sweat dripping down my temples. When the foreign object was embedded within, the small handle felt so narrow at my opening. I clenched down on it and knew it was not coming free anytime soon. He pushed it in me, then pulled back so that the wider portion bumped against my opening, then forward again. It felt like he was fucking me with it.

A finger slid over my folds and brushed my clit, ever so lightly. I came from just that slightest of touches. Screaming, I bucked against my bonds, against Finn's hand that was working the object in my ass. My nipples were now painfully taut, but it only added to the pleasure. My pussy clenched over and over at nothing, which only made me sob, half from the release that washed over me, but also from
how
I came. Everything he'd done to me, the punishment, had turned me on. I hadn't liked what he was doing, but my body clearly did. I had no control, just as Finn said. My body would do whatever he wanted. And I loved it. When I was replete, when my body had wrung every bit of pleasure it could, I slumped down, wilted and done.