Western Widows (10 page)

She even had the gall to put her hand on my arm and give me a little nudge toward the end of the long tables. Mr. Worth, while amusement showed in his eyes, had the courtesy not to grin. He met me at the end of the table and held out his elbow. I had no choice but to wrap my fingers around his very muscular biceps and let him lead me to the food.

He carried both of our plates while I held our glasses of lemonade to a blanket set away from the others. While no one could hear any conversation we might have, we were chaperoned by half the town.

"I am sorry about your husband's passing. I offer you my condolences at your loss," he murmured softly, picking up a chicken leg from his plate.

My spine stiffened at the mention of Paul. "Thank you," I said tersely, using my fork to spear a slice of pickle.

"You are not saddened by his death." His words were fact, not a question, so although I glanced at him briefly through my lashes, I did not feel he required a response. "You did not care for him."

I felt as if he were prodding me with his fork instead of the potato salad. "Care for him?" I asked, my voice incredulous. "Caring would not be a word associated with Paul."

He chewed, then swallowed. "No. No it wouldn't. He was a fucking bastard."

I gasped at his words, shocked at his crudeness.

"What?" he asked, unabashed. "It's the truth. You're too much of a lady to say it aloud, but it's true, isn't it?"

I glanced around, but no one paid us any attention.

"Admit it. I know you wish to utter it aloud."

I looked at him, saw the dare in his dark eyes.

"Yes," I whispered. Then I panicked, realizing what I'd done. Mr. Worth had tricked me with false kindness. The blood drained from my face at what he would say next to me now that I'd admitted my feelings. I covered my ears to block his words. He'd call me a cruel and miserable wife.
A unthankful shrew. An unbreedable bitch. Worthless.
"Oh," I exclaimed, moving to stand, but the long hem of my dress made it difficult in my haste.

"Wait, Leah." Mr. Worth grabbed my wrist and stopped my motions. I was up on my knees and I looked at him, all the while moving backward. "Jesus, sweetheart. I've said something to scare you."

"Please," I begged, my breath coming out in pants. "Let me go." I was making a scene most assuredly. I frantically glanced around, blinked at the tears that threatened. "I didn't mean it and was mistaken in my words. Surely you know my word has no value and I'm just a liar. Place no value in what I said, or me." I yanked hard and he released me. Pushing off the ground, I was able to rise and dash away, not before seeing the look of utter shock on his handsome face. He was stunned. Regardless, I wouldn't look back to see it morph into anger, because men didn't want a woman to question them or to be ungrateful.

I couldn't run, there were too many about and I would only draw attention to myself. I smiled brittlely at those I passed and made it as far as the front of the church, where I slipped inside the quiet sanctuary unnoticed. There I let the tears fall, the shame at being so weak willed, the constant worry I would say something to make a man turn from kind to enraged.

I slumped down into the last pew and crossed my arms about my waist, hugging myself.

"Leah."

I startled at the sound of my name and whipped my head around to see Mr. Worth in the doorway, the bright sunshine at his back. I started to rise, but he walked toward me, held his hand out in front of him. "Please, no. Sit."

His voice was quiet, his motions slow and relaxed.

I sat down on the hard pew. He stood in the center aisle next to me, forcing me to look up at him. "Slide over," he told me.

I'd earned whatever tongue lashing he gave me, but at least here we were alone. No one would know the trouble I'd caused with him, the way I'd made him angry. I moved so that he could sit beside me, the sides of our bodies touching from knee to hip to shoulder. Pushing over again to create space some between us, he stilled my motions with a hand on my thigh.

I was too surprised at the touch to shift and glanced down at his large hand, the back of it sprinkled with dark hairs, resting upon my thigh. I could feel the heat of it through the thin fabric of my dress, and the weight of it felt remarkably...safe. He didn't move, didn't look at me, just sat next to me, our breaths evening out into quiet.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. Whether the tone was to keep me calm—which it most likely was—or because of the setting, I didn't know.

His apology had me tilting my head up to look at him. He'd removed his hat and I could see dark stubble on his jaw, as if he hadn't shaved.

I frowned. "I...I don't understand."

"I put you in a terrible position. You were devoted to your husband and I only spoke poorly of him. Of course you would take offense."

He was apologizing to me for speaking ill of Paul? "You think...I mean, you're not going to yell—" I couldn't get the words out, swallowed. "You confuse me," I admitted plainly.

"Paul yelled at you?"

I couldn't answer him for the same reasons as I ran off, worried that he'd be angry with my answer.

"I'll take your silence as confirmation." He swore under his breath. "I'm not going to yell at you, Leah. I'm not going to raise my voice and shout. I know the kind of man Paul was. Outside, I wasn't testing you or your loyalty to your dead husband."

I searched his face for the truth and I shook my head in denial. "No. You could be tricking me."

His eyebrows went up. "Trick you? Why would I trick you into admitting the truth?"

"So...so you can hurt me."

He stared at me for a moment. "Jesus," he hissed. His hand resting on my thigh tightened into a firm grip. "Did he beat you?"

Dark eyes raked over me, looking for signs of abuse, even after all these months. I had to ease his mind at least a little bit, for he seemed truly concerned. "No. He never hit me. He only—" I bit my lips together.

"He only what, sweetheart?" he prodded.

"He was verbally abusive and because of that I am fearful and cautious."

"Of men," he responded.

"Of everything," I countered with a weary sigh.

"I don't want you to be afraid of me." He turned my hand over and held it, palm to palm. His touch was gentle, yet secure, his hand so much larger than mine that it all but disappeared in his grasp. "I won't hurt you. Ever. You have my word."

I heard the vehemence in his tone, but that didn't keep me from wondering why his attention was focused on me.

"Why are you here? There are so many nice young women outside who would suit you."

"I know."

My stomach soured at his words and I tried to tug my hand free.

"I've found one that suits me just fine."

"Oh," I responded, hearing the disappointment in my voice. Of course he'd find a woman to court, for he was all that I could imagine a man to be. In all the hubbub and enjoyment of a Sunday potluck, he was sitting with me in the empty church. He had no idea how attractive, how appealing he was, for he should be out there flaunting it. No doubt women circled him like bees to honey. "I should let you get to her then." I made to rise, but again, he held me in place with a simple squeeze of my hand.

"Leah, it's you. I want you."

My mouth fell open and I just stared at him for a long moment. "I'm sorry. What? Me?"

He smiled at me, at my shock, his dimple appearing. "Yes, you."

The man was crazy and I shook my head. "I'm worthless."

Ben moved his hands to my arms and turned my upper body so I had no choice but to face him. "I never want to hear that from you again. If you're speaking of yourself, then your bastard husband did a job on you that I'll take the rest of my life to fix. If you're referring to your fortune, I'm well aware Paul gambled it all away, whether at the Poker table or on an unworkable mine." His eyes raked over my face, stilled on my lips for a moment, then lifted to mine again. "Do you think I was interested in you for that?"

He looked angry with every tense line of his body, the firm grip of his arms. "You're angry with me." I licked my lips and he groaned.

Giving me a little shake, he said, "I'm not angry, I'm in love with you."

My eyes widened at his pronouncement.

"Love? How...we've never even talked before."

He released me and stood, paced back and forth along the center aisle, ran a hand through his hair. "Do you think this is the first time I've taken notice of you? I've watched you for months, ever since you moved to town. I could see your marriage wasn't a love match, that you weren't happy. Next to shooting the man, there was nothing I could do to end your marriage, but the sheriff does not call for vigilante justice."

"You knew?" I asked, my voice incredulous.

He nodded. "I knew he was hurting you. Do you have any idea what it was like to watch you be so unhappy, knowing you were going home with him, so that he could hit you, yell at you, touch you?"

"I...I never knew," I sputtered.

"No, of course not! You were stuck in your own hell. At the Christmas party when our eyes met, you actually looked at me, and I mean
looked
, I knew then that you would be mine. But I saw Caruthers come up to you, admonish you for even glancing my way. I couldn't risk your safety for my own personal gain."

I frowned. His words were so overwhelming, so confusing. "What are you saying?"

He strode over to me, knelt down on the floor at my feet. He was so much larger than I that we were at eye level. "I'm saying you're marrying me. Right now."

My heart beat so quickly it felt like a hummingbird in my chest. "Marry you?"

"Did Caruthers pleasure you? Don't answer that. I can tell by the look on your face the answer is no."

I could only nod.

"He took your virginity."

I nodded again and focused on Ben's gaze, not thinking back to that uncomfortable night.

"Do you know what I want to do to you? To show you?"

"No," I whispered.

"I want to show you what it's really supposed to be like between a man and his wife. I want to strip you of this dress, to know that only I get to know what's beneath. I want to taste your skin and see if it's as sweet as I think. I want to know the size of your nipples, their color, the weight of your breasts. I want to spread your soft thighs and lick and taste your pussy. I want to put my cock deep inside you, to feel you clench me tight."

I couldn't help but make a soft sound at the back of my throat at the thoughts his words elicited.

"Would you like that?"

I searched his face, hunting for any hint of retribution.

"Yes, I'd like that, but Paul married me because he wanted my money. I don't want you marrying me for my body. You could bed a woman at the saloon any time you wished."

"Yes, that's probably true, but I'm not offering any of them marriage." He shook his head, an imploring look in his eyes. "We're part of a whole, you and me. You've felt the link. You know it's real. When we fuck, it won't just be for pleasure. I want to possess you, just as you already possess me. Let me show you." When I stalled, thinking, considering his words, he pushed his advantage. "The truth, Leah. I've shared my love. Give me the gift of the truth. Do you want me?"

"Yes." My voice was clear and confident, bolstered by him. He'd been vulnerable when he'd told me of his love, for I could easily have thrown it back in his face like a bouquet of unwanted flowers. Instead, it was the most precious thing anyone had given me and I relished it, felt the walls around my heart crumble. He didn't have to profess his love to bed a woman. Couples married for less, and I was certainly one to know this.

He grinned. "When I say I want my cock deep inside you, I don't just mean your pussy." At my silence, he added, "Do you want to know more?"

I licked my lips with the first hints of anticipation I'd ever felt. I wanted Mr. Worth to do everything he spoke of, even the things I didn't understand. "Yes," I whispered.

He ran a hand down the side of my face in a gentle caress. "Then we better get Reverend Pick."

BEN

An hour later, I had her at my house. Alone and wed. Reverend Pick was kind enough to keep our quick ceremony a secret, for the pot luck would most assuredly have turned into a wedding reception and I did not wish to spend the afternoon with the townsfolk of Collins. I wanted to spend it with Leah. Alone and in my bed.

"You know I'm scarred," Leah said to me as I held her hand and led her up the stairs and to my—our—bedroom.

I looked over my shoulder at her. Scarred? What had happened to her? She was so small in comparison to my large size that even a minor accident could harm her irreparably.

"You said he didn't beat you."

She shook her head. "Scarred on the inside. Mr. Worth—"

"Ben," I insisted. "My wife should call me Ben."

"Ben, you say you're not like Paul and I believe you, but my mind is telling me otherwise. I'm afraid I'll do something wrong to make you mad at me. I'm...skittish."

I sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled her to stand between my legs, wrapping my arms around her waist loosely. She could step away if she desired, but I wanted to feel her. I'd have to go slowly and I needed to ease her mind, but I could do that while touching her. She
was
skittish, like a mare being followed by an eager stallion.

"Nothing you can do in bed will be wrong. Trust me. What arouses you?" Her dark eyes widened and her tongue darted out to lick over her plump lower lip. "
That
arouses me," I told her.

"What does?"

I tilted my chin in her direction. "That, licking your lip. Your turn."

"To tell you something?" At my nod, she continued. "I like that you have whiskers and I wonder if they are scratchy or soft."

I took her hand and raised it to my cheek, then let go. She ran her palm over my jaw and the rasping sound filled the room.

"I'm aroused by the flare of your hips," I said, bringing my hands to rest on the curve of her waist, then slid them down so I cupped her soft flesh, my fingers cupping her ass. Even through her dress she felt lush.

"I like how your shoulders are so broad." This time, without assistance, she placed her palms on my shoulders and contoured my body.

The room was cool but I was overheated. Having Leah here with me, touching me, even in the most innocent of ways had me hard. I could smash rocks at the mine with my cock.

"I wonder if your breasts will be a handful."

"Do you have dark hair on your chest?"

"I dream about how you taste."

"Is your hair silky soft?"

The questions went back and forth, neither of us answering, but our hands wandered, our eyes searched. I cupped her breasts, felt her nipples tighten against my thumbs before I slid my hands down her belly and around to cup her ass once again. Leah undid one button of my shirt and peeked for chest hair. Our breaths were mingling, our hands becoming more bold.

"I need to see you, sweetheart. I'm going to undo the buttons on your bodice."

"Yes," she replied breathily and let her hands fall to her sides. Slowly the fabric parted, revealing swells of creamy skin above her white corset. Pushing the fabric from her shoulders, I worked it off one arm, then the other so she stood before me covered in her corset and the lower half of her dress.

I raised my hands to the buttons on my shirt. "My turn?" A small smile played at the corners of her mouth. My tactic for going slowly seemed to be successful. Her eyes followed my hands as I worked the shirt from my body. "We're quite different you and I."

I had a dusting of dark hair on my chest that tapered down to my navel, then into a thin line that ended up at the thatch of hair at the base of my cock. I was all hard angles and planes, coarse hair, even a scar or two while Leah was smooth, silky skin, so fair that I could see a soft blue river of veins on the upper curve of her breasts. She was so round, so dainty and perfect and I felt a brute.

I set her back from me a step, then another so I could lean forward and take off my boots. Standing, I pulled off my pants so I stood before her naked.

"Oh my," she whispered, her gaze raking over me from head to toe, then stopping to openly ogle my cock. It swelled and bobbed toward her as she looked her fill.

"I'm big, Leah. I have big hands. A big cock."

I wanted her naked, but I wanted her in my bed more. She'd have to take her clothes off sometime, so perhaps I should consider the first time we fuck a time for her to experiment. She
was
already mine in the eyes of God. And me.

I'd let her be in control, at least until she felt more comfortable, and then, then she'd submit. I'd show her everything a man and wife could do together.

I moved so I lay down in the middle of the bed, my head resting on my pillow. "You may have your way with me."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "You want me to...to...I don't know, I mean, I've never—"

"You've been fucked," I said matter-of-factly.

"Yes, but not like this." She waved her hand through the air.

"Do you want me to be on top, sweetheart?"

A hint of panic flared in her eyes. I'd assumed Caruthers probably rutted into her at night, his heavy weight smothering her, most likely her nightdress crumpled about her waist as he did so. I doubted he ever gave her an orgasm. I wouldn't ruin our first time together with thoughts of that bastard haunting her.

She shook her head. "No. I need you to tell me what to do."

Besides having her corset exposed, she was completely covered, modest even, considering we were about to fuck. I ached to rip the dress from her body, kiss her plump lips, but patience would be in my favor.

I gripped the base of my cock in my fist, stroked it as I spoke. My need for her was almost painful.

"Take off your drawers."

She paused, considering, then turned her back. She reached beneath her dress to work the garment from her body. The action thrust out her ass toward me and I stifled a groan. When she stood and turned back around, I crooked my finger. "Come over here and straddle me."

She crawled onto the bed, tossed a knee over me, then adjusted her skirts so she was positioned over my thighs so I could continue to pump my hand just thinking that there was only a bunched up dress in the way of my cock sinking into her pussy.

"See that," I said, looking at the clear fluid seep from the slit. "I'm ready for you. Are you wet, sweetheart?"

A line formed between her eyebrows. "Wet?"

"Your pussy. Slip your hand under your dress and touch yourself."

"You won't touch me?" she asked, biting her lip with worry. "Turn me beneath you?"

My hand stilled on my cock. Slowly, I lifted my hands over my head and grabbed the decorative filigree of the iron headboard. "I won't let go."

My cock rose straight from my body, an angry red, fluid seeping from the slit in a steady stream. I wanted to shift my hips up and rut into her, but that was a base need and would gain me nothing but a quick release. I wanted more. I wanted all of Leah.

Leah cautiously slipped her hand beneath her dress and delved between her thighs. Her eyes widened and I couldn't help but grin. "Feel that? You're wet for me."

"That's never happened before," she replied, a tad astonished.

"You've never wanted before. My cock is going to slide in so nice and easy."

"Now?" she asked, her thighs tensing above mine.

I shook my head. "I want to kiss you, to taste your sweet mouth. I want to touch your pussy, slip my fingers into your tight channel. I want to suck on your nipples, tug on them. Since I can't use my hands, you'll have to do it. Undo a few of your stays so you can touch yourself."

I eyed her corset and prayed that she wouldn't get missish now. I wanted to see her breasts more than I wanted my next breath.

Her hands went to the front of her corset, the tips of two fingers on her right hand glistening from her wetness. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to will my orgasm away. I had to open my eyes, had to watch as her breasts were revealed. If I came, which was certainly possible in my overly aroused state, then she'd just have to wait a few minutes before she sank her sweet pussy onto me because I would most assuredly stay hard. There was no doubt I would stay hard around her for the rest of my life.

Four, five, six stays unhooked and her breasts tumbled out and over the stiff fabric.

"Jesus, sweetheart, you're gorgeous."

I clenched my fingers tightly around the headboard, afraid if I didn't I'd let go and cup her creamy globes in my palms. I wasn't lying, I couldn't lie when it came to her body for she was stunning. Her breasts weren't overly large, but round and full with pert little nipples. I could only imagine how soft and supple they'd feel.

"Cup them." My voice was deep, it couldn't be helped. I was so aroused that if she so much as bumped into my cock I'd come.

She did as I bid, her nipples peeking out from beneath her thumbs. "Coax your nipples into tight tips."

She lowered her head to watch her hands, to watch her finger and thumb play. Instantly they hardened into tight buds. Her head came up and she just stared at me with a look of complete awe. I couldn't help but grin. "Like that? Imagine what it would feel like if it were my hands on you. My mouth."

A little moan escaped her lips.

"Now use one hand to play with your pussy."

Much less tentative this time, she slipped her hand beneath her dress, then sighed.

"Are your fingers slipping over your folds? I bet their slick and dripping wet. Did you find your clit? You did, I can tell by the look on your face. Now slip a finger inside. Yes, just like that."

I had no idea
not
touching Leah would be so erotic. I was able to focus on every shift in her body, the tensing of her muscles, the emotions that flickered across her face. Her cheeks now carried a rosy hue, her lips parted slightly and she breathed quickly, her breasts moving up and down in a very pleasing way.

"Ben, I feel...I ache...what do I do?"

Her left hand cupped her breast while her right hand played with her pussy, her arm moving as she did so. She was rubbing her clit, but I couldn't be sure. What I did know was that she was ready to be fucked. Her pleasure had escalated to the point where she needed more.

"Up on your knees. That's a good girl. Now move up and straddle my hips. Lower yourself down and—yes," I hissed out the last, her scalding hot pussy touching the head of my cock. "Move your hips," I bit out through clenched teeth. "There, my cock's nudging into you. Lower yourself and take me, Leah."

Her eyes met mine as she shifted her hips back and forth, working my cock into her a slow inch at a time. We both groaned at the tight, slick feel. It was like a vise was moving down over my cock. A hot, wet, tight vise.

When I was fully embedded, she paused. My balls drew up at the torturous feel of her inner walls clenching down, practically milking the cum from me. But it wasn't time yet. I willed my own pleasure back so she could find hers.

"Ride me, baby. Lean forward, yes, like that."

"Oh God," she cried when she did as I said and I slipped in another inch, the head of my cock bumping her womb. Lifting up until I pulled almost completely out, she dropped down, taking me quickly and easily into her. I couldn't help but arch my back and grip the headboard harder.

She found her pace, fucking me as she wanted, her hands on my chest, gripping hard. I doubted she even knew she was using me for balance. Her breasts bobbed with each downward stroke.

Her movements became erratic, her sweaty face lined with frustration. "Ben, something's not right. I'm trying but I don't know what my body needs. I don't know what to do."

If I could just run my thumb over her clit, she'd come immediately. She was that close, but I swore I would not touch her. "Lean forward so I can suck on your nipples."

"Oh yes," she groaned, angling herself so her right breast was above my mouth like a succulent hanging fruit. I took the nipple into my mouth and sucked on it, laved my tongue over the firm tip. She tasted sweet, her skin so soft and silky, just as I'd imagined.

"Ben!" she cried, her hips continuing to shift, now in small circles, rubbing her clit on me.

As I moved my head to suck on her other nipple, I told her how to finish herself, for I couldn't wait any longer. I had to come. "Grab hold of the headboard with your left hand to hold yourself up while you play with your clit. That sensitive nub between your thighs. You're going to come so hard, sweetheart."

She did completely as I instructed, eager to come, although she had no idea what that was. Her hand found her clit quickly if her gasp of pleasure was an indication. She shifted her hips, let me suckle on her breast as she worked herself. I watched her face until...she came. Her head went back and she screamed. Her back arched, her nipple hardened against my tongue and her thighs clenched my waist. Inner walls rippled around my cock and I came with her, the pleasure and cum bursting from my balls and jetting out in torrents of seed, filling her and marking her as mine.