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Authors: Karen Mercury

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Romance, #Historical, #Western, #Historical Romance, #Westerns

Working the Lode (24 page)

BOOK: Working the Lode
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While Cormack stood mutely in the open door, Joaquin stroked Zelnora’s hair. Dumbfounded, Cormack slowly shut the door and sat himself behind Joaquin.


Mi amor
,” Joaquin was muttering in loving tones. Zelnora, for her part, gazed adoringly at the highwayman’s pointed, penetrating face. “I must apologize for what happened to you. I feel responsible for it, as I am responsible for all carnage in this part of the state.”

Zelnora fairly purred, leaning into Joaquin’s hand as he stroked her behind the ear like a large cat. “Don’t feel responsible, dear Joaquin. How are you to know what occurs at every point in every road? It’s very possible it was just a group of random robbers who had no idea we had such a giant nugget.”

Joaquin tucked his legs up, his immense starry rowels raking the cotton ticking that covered the mattress. Inhaling deeply of the scent of tree sap that emanated from Joaquin’s gleaming hair, Cormack extended a long arm down to unbutton the boots and drop them to the floor. It felt warm and safe here, sheltering the smaller man in his arms as he soothed Cormack’s fiancée. His prick was already stiffening to imagine being intimate with them again. He was a tad jealous, he noted, when Joaquin eased down the shoulder of her chemise in order to inspect her bullet wound. Yet it was only fair that if he had congress with the exotic desperado, Zelnora should also be allowed.

“There are no ‘random robbers’ in this part of the state,” Joaquin said darkly, apparently approving of how Cormack had bound her shoulder wound. “If there are, I need to know about them. I have commanded Jack and Feliz to discover who was behind it.”

“Three-Fingered Jack and Feliz?” Cormack questioned mildly. He pressed his erection to Joaquin’s ass, so succulent, so rounded, so firm. “Aren’t those the chaps I whaled on at Sutter’s Fort?”

Joaquin craned his neck to address Cormack, nestling against his throat. Cormack slithered his fingers through Joaquin’s sleek hair and breathed hotly against his temple. “Feliz was the one you elbowed in the jaw,” Joaquin admitted. “He still wants to raise your hair for knocking out his tooth. But Garcia was the one you crippled. He still can’t get on his mount without assistance.”

Cormack lowered the neckline of Zelnora’s chemise so that one plump breast bounced free. She smiled leonine to indicate her approval as Cormack urged Joaquin’s face toward her. “Effective methods, you would say?”

Joaquin licked between Zelnora’s breasts slowly with a fat tongue. Watching another man lick his woman aroused Cormack, wondering what Zelnora must feel having a strange man accost her while her fiancé watched. She grinned lazily, gripping Joaquin’s shoulders with her fingertips. Cormack slid one sure palm around the slope of Joaquin’s luscious ass, running two fingers between his spread thighs to tickle the sensitive bulge between his balls and asshole.

Joaquin muttered, “You have very effective methods,
pelirrojo
,” before diving down to slurp Zelnora’s nipple into his mouth.

Ho, boy, Cormack wanted to feel that dark, hot pole in his fist again. He was no longer ashamed to enjoy the hard plumpness of another man’s stimulated prick as it pulsated in his grip. But tonight he needed to please Zelnora. He wanted her to esteem Joaquin just as much as he did, and that would mean risking his own jealousy while watching the bandit pleasure his woman.

“It would distress me if you needed assistance mounting,” Cormack murmured into Joaquin’s ear.

Zelnora was inching up her skirts. He was slightly shocked to hear her salaciously say, “Joaquin needs no assistance mounting.”

Cormack nibbled on the velvety side of Joaquin’s neck. “Kiss her,” he commanded.

It was odd, watching Joaquin clamp his lips over Zelnora’s eager mouth. Cormack’s instant reaction was to yank a handful of Joaquin’s hair till his neck snapped and paste him in the nose. He stayed this overwhelming feeling by deepening the bites to Joaquin’s neck and unbuttoning his
calzoneras
with long, nimble fingers.

He would direct Joaquin. If he was the one guiding their actions, he reckoned he would not feel this possessive envy whenever Joaquin laid a hand on Zelnora. So he squiggled his tongue up and down the side of Joaquin’s strong neck while sliding a palm down his belly to unleash his cock. Fingering the long, dusky prick caused Joaquin to rock his hips, pressing his erection into Cormack’s hand, deepening his wet kisses upon Zelnora. With his thumb, Cormack described unctuous wreaths about the crown of the prick, making Joaquin gasp against Zelnora’s mouth and gooseflesh sprinkle the globes of his curvaceous butt.

Cormack revealed his own cock, desiring to rub drops of semen against that succulent ass. It was no different than rubbing against a woman’s backside, after all, although Cormack could not fool himself that he did not handle a slick, hot penis. The sweaty meat pulsated as Joaquin humped his palm, Cormack rotating his pumping as though milking a cow, up, down, and over the tip of the erection. The bandit’s pleasured moaning incited Cormack to release his own ecstatic growls while he nibbled on his earlobe, daring to glide the entire length of his mammoth penis against that juicy ass. Joaquin grunted, whether with approval or not, Cormack only knew by the sudden pulsing of the cock in his hand. As Zelnora’s thighs were spread and she panted invitingly, teats bouncing happily, Cormack urged the quivering prick toward her pussy.

Joaquin was pressed between the two lovers. Perhaps as it would have taken too much effort to complain or extricate himself, he allowed Cormack’s massaging fingers to guide him to Zelnora’s honeypot, and with a deep groan, he entered her to the hilt.

“Ah,
eres una mujer encantadora
,” Joaquin uttered against Zelnora’s mouth.

Cormack was surprised to hear Zelnora reply in Spanish also.
“Eres una hombre apuesto,”
she sighed.
You are a beautiful man.

Now that he had his friend pleasantly seated, to further stave off the jealousy that a foreign body lay atop his fiancée, Cormack thought it only equitable to pleasure himself against that delicious raw butt, uplifted for his taking. Plunging his hand between the outspread thighs, he cupped the pulsating testicles in his palm, abrading their fullness with loving squeezes and mushy caresses. Joaquin fucked Zelnora slowly, holding himself up on his elbows and gazing down into her face, eyes locked on to hers. Only occasionally did his pupils quiver and contract with ecstasy. Otherwise, he was the picture of concentration, as though he wished to remember every pore on his beloved’s face.

Ho, boy, the buoyant succulence of Joaquin’s ass as Cormack smeared his quivering cock over the trembling, meaty muscles. He could gratify himself against that ass—why not? It would be nearly the same as fucking Zelnora himself, to hump that delicious butt in tandem with Joaquin’s thrusts. Arousing the bulging balls with his palm, Cormack positioned himself gently atop the desperado and lunged his hips, stroking his cock against the smooth flank.

“That’s good, Cormack,” Zelnora urged sweetly, without removing her gaze from Joaquin’s. “Fuck his heavenly rump. Revenge yourself for how he shamed you.”

Fuck another man? That thought had not occurred to Cormack—at least, not today, so far. Yet the idea filled him with such lust, he nearly climaxed against the resilient ass, and it seemed that Joaquin spread his thighs even wider to signal his acceptance. Yes, he would revenge himself for that public cock-slapping he’d received, when several odious brigands had stood around with erect pricks enjoying the sight of Joaquin demeaning his pride, as well as his stiff and yearning penis.

Greasing up his pole with spittle, Cormack gently fingered the tight opening. Had Joaquin debased other men in this manner before? He was certain this snug passage had never accommodated another man’s cock. When he slid a finger up the ass, shocked at the slick heat clutching him, Joaquin inhaled sharply, but did not alter the slow, languid fucking he was giving Zelnora.

Cormack growled against the other man’s throat. “You like that, you debauched bandit? I’m doggone if you ain’t dreamed of having a prick up this tight little ass. I’ll fill you up,” he gasped when he pressed the crown of his penis against the opening, “with a bucket of my hot seed, while I—”

“Fuck me like a man, Cormack.”

Joaquin’s imperious demand rang out in the little cabin, divine with elegant Castilian tones. It was a command Cormack could not ignore, and he humped his prick farther up the blistering asshole.

Joaquin seemed to lose his control then. His head slumped forward on a rubbery neck, and he choked on his moans. Not even Zelnora’s nearly virginal pussy had been as hot and tight as this, and it was beyond ecstasy to feel against the underside of his prick the throbbing of Joaquin’s bulging penis inside Zel. He would erupt soon if he did not still himself, but a few more jabs of his bursting prick and Joaquin was jetting spurt after spurt inside the woman.

He could feel it! How odd, the flow of semen up Joaquin’s prick, the clutching at his own prick, the twitching and spasms urging and milking an orgasm from him.

“There. How’s that.” Cormack moaned in staccato sentences. “You want this. A man’s jism inside. Your sweet ass. Go ahead. Spew that jism. You want it. You. Want. Me.”

“Fuck me, Cormack.” Joaquin gasped, and that was when Cormack went off.

He ejaculated load after load, though he had dared to stuff only half the length of his meaty penis into that asshole. It was the
Cormack
that got to him, calling him by his given name so intimately, setting him off. Erupting inside the narrow channel, Cormack drifted in and out of consciousness while the rapture poured over his entire body. A sheen of sweat broke out along his back and thighs, cooling him, feathering against his swollen balls.

Who knew how long they lay like that, clammy and panting, half-awake and twitching with the ebb of orgasm. It was Zelnora who shoved the bandit off of her, squirming off the bedstead and padding off somewhere. Both men rolled onto their backs and eventually blinked up at the ceiling. Both simultaneously flung their limp hands onto their own bellies.

“Heaps of beaver,” Zelnora said.

Cormack raised himself on his elbows, swarms of transparent bubbles swimming before his eyes. Zelnora stood before the window glass, peering out into the darkening field.

“There’s a strange horse!” she declared before swinging out the door.

At last, Cormack and Joaquin looked at each other.

“‘Strange horse’?” they both said at once.

Just then, Joaquin’s horse whinnied. It sounded neighborly to Cormack, but all the same, the two men shot off the bedstead as they buttoned their pants.

At the window, Joaquin whispered, “Who is that?”

Cormack was stunned. “Erskine.”

It was then he realized. He had earlier heard the horse whinny, maybe ten minutes before. While he was sliding his prick up another man’s ass.

Chapter Twenty-four

“It’s Aaron!” Zelnora was glad to see their old friend and mining partner. “He’s come to give us news, and—Quartus, go fetch the claret juice.”


Compañero
!” Cormack called, striding forward. “What brings you up here?”

Erskine beamed widely. “Old hoss!”

They clapped each other on the shoulders, then Cormack turned to gesture at Joaquin. “You might recall Valenzuela.”

Zelnora added, “Or at least met him around the fort in various guises.”

As she feared, Erskine’s eyes narrowed. His hand even inched toward his revolver. “Joaquin Valenzuela. What’s this old skunk doing here? Robbing you?”

Zelnora put calming hands on Erskine’s arm. “Now, now,” she said.

Erskine pointed an accusatory finger at the bandit. “They’re calling for your head down at the fort! ‘Bring me the head of Joaquin Valenzuela!’ is the cry.”

Joaquin stepped forward. “It’s all right. I understand your reaction. Bowmaker, I’ll be leaving now. I’ll report back with news about that incident.”

“What incident?” Erskine cried. “Could he be referring to the very incident I’ve come all this way about—the incident in the Sierra Nevada they’re calling Tragedy Springs because this bastard sent his men to rob and murder the pioneers going to the Colorado River!”

BOOK: Working the Lode
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ads

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