Reins & Ribbons Page 3

  “It's been an enjoyable game of cards, gentleman, but you'll understand if we leave you,” Garrison murmured. He released my hand and collected his winnings, tossing a coin to each of the men. “For being witnesses to our blissful union.”

  The men slapped him on the back before walking off to the bar to spend their newfound coins. Garrison turned to me, held out his hand. “Ready?”

  Was I ready? Ready to be Mrs. Garrison Lee? I was no longer Dahlia Lenox and in a short time, I would no longer be a virgin. The question that lingered, that made my belly churn, was how long it would be until he discovered my scars. I would have to find some way to stall. Could I, with my complete lack of knowledge in the ways of men and women, lose my virginity without losing my husband?

  GARRISON

  * * *

  In all the years I'd known her, Dahlia had never been so quiet. In the short walk to the hotel, she didn't say a word. Was she having second thoughts? Had she truly not wished to marry me? If she'd demurred, I wouldn't have held her to the wager, to the dare. The last thing I wanted was to have Dahlia as my reluctant bride. Hell, I didn't want her reluctant; I wanted her anything but.

  It was when I shut the hotel door behind us and she stepped into me and kissed me, I quickly learned that perhaps I'd been wrong. When she tipped my hat off, then ran her fingers through my hair I knew I most certainly had. I stood there, stunned, at Dahlia's boldness. While I knew her to be far from meek, I had not expected her to be so bold either. Perhaps she wasn't as reluctant as I'd considered. I'd assumed all virgins needed some coaxing into bed the first time, but when her tongue flicked over my closed lips, Dahlia proved that assumption wrong as well. I groaned at her boldness, gripped her hips and pushed her back.

  I should have just done as she wanted because my cock wanted the same thing—quick bliss—but no. She was finally mine. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and then took some steadying breaths. One of us had to remain in control. “Dahlia, we have all night. Besides, I want to see your ass turn a pretty shade of pink for your reckless behavior.”

  “My…? You would punish me?” she asked, eyes wide.

  My cock pressed painfully against my pants, but it would have to suffer a little longer. “Someone sure as hell has to for you going into a fucking saloon and playing Poker. As your husband, that job falls to me now.” My palm itched to flip her over my knees and make her understand how rash her behavior had been. God only knew how long she'd been playing cards and God only knew where she'd gone to do so.

  She shook her head. Her lips were slick and a bright pink and her breasts went up and down with every one of her shallow breaths. “No. Please, I've… I've waited so long for you. I need you. I need you to… to fuck me.”

  My cock hardened instantly at the words, spoken in such a breathless voice. Just hearing the word “fuck” from her lips pushed me to the brink of my control.

  “You think you can distract me from your punishment?”

  She smiled impishly. “Is it working?”

  “Hell, yes.”

  Hooking her hand around the back of my neck, she pulled my head down to hers. While she'd initiated another kiss, I quickly took over, tilting her head as I wanted and plundered her mouth. She wasn't shy. She was so fucking bold. I pulled her into me so our bodies touched, her breasts pressing against my chest. I felt the soft curve of her hips, the painful tugging of her fingers in my hair. Jesus, she was wild!

  She was also an avid student, quickly learning how to kiss. I'd taught her the basics of it on the occasions we had a few clandestine moments together, but this… this was something else entirely. It was as if we were voracious for each other. Ravenous. And there was no reason to stop. Fuck the punishment. She was my wife and I could kiss her for the rest of my life. My cock had other ideas in mind and when her hands moved to work the buttons on my shirt, it twitched in my pants.

  I was breathing hard as I kissed along her jawline, the delicate swirl of her ear. I nipped at the tender lobe and she ripped my shirt apart, buttons flying.

  Holy hell, the woman was eager.

  “I've longed to see your body,” she breathed, her small hands running over my chest and belly.

  I hissed out a breath at the contact. “Dahlia. You can distract me. You can even delay your punishment. That doesn't mean it won't happen. Later.”

  Reaching for the buttons on her blouse, I got one, then two undone before she batted my hands away before she moved to my belt buckle. “Fine. Later. But now, I want to see it.”

  My eyebrows went up at her boldness. Bright flags of color marked her cheeks, her lips were swollen from my attentions and her breath was as ragged as mine.

  “You want to see my cock, sugarplum?” I took a deep breath and reveled in my new bride and her eagerness. I wanted to show it to her and I most definitely wanted to see the look on her face when I did.

  She nodded and licked her lips. I almost came then and there. Why keep her from what her heart desired for a punishment I could mete at a different time? “Very well, take it out.”

  I leaned back against the door, spreading my legs to give her better access.

  With fumbling fingers, she undid my belt, then the placket of my pants. She glanced up at me briefly before pushing the fabric down over my hips. My cock sprang free and she sucked in a deep breath. I'd never been harder in my life.

  She lifted a hand as if to touch it and I held my breath with anticipation, but she pulled it back as if afraid. I took her hand and placed it over my thick length.

  “It's all right. You can touch it,” I growled. “Grip it. Harder.”

  She did.

  “It's… dripping,” she marveled.

  “That's for you. It means I'm ready to fuck you.”

  Her dark eyes were so expressive, a window into her soul. Now, I saw eagerness, curiosity and a touch of trepidation, but nothing I didn't expect in a virgin.

  “I...I want that, too.” She ran her thumb over my sensitive crown, the slick essence there easing her way. I was so sensitive my hips jerked into her hand.

  “Then let's get you naked.”

  She eyed me briefly in alarm before she kissed me again, the hand on my cock beginning to move over my length as if learning it. She was battering my senses and I was on the brink of losing control. I wanted the first time with Dahlia to be gentle, to be slow—an awakening—as a virgin deserved. But, as usual, she was not like other women and I shouldn't have expected something slow and tame.

  She was hot and wild. A wildcat, a vixen, a siren. I was only a man and there was nothing I could do but succumb.

  “You're making it hard,” I breathed against her mouth.

  Her fingers stroked down my length. “It gets harder?” she asked just before her tongue found mine.

  When I came up for a breath, I said, “You're making it hard… difficult to be gentle.”

  “I don't want gentle. I want you to fuck me.”

  “Jesus, Dahlia.”

  The way her hand moved up and down my cock I would have assumed she'd done this before, or at the least had lessons from either Rose or Hyacinth, her married sisters. I couldn't imagine shy Hyacinth offering her much bolder sister any tips, so that left Rose. They weren't overly close, though, so I had to imagine—

  One perfect stroke had my mind going blank as my basest needs took over. Gripping Dahlia's shoulders, I spun her about and pushed her against the door.

  “You want to be fucked, sugarplum?”

  She licked her lips, her eyes soft and hazy with arousal. Other than a kiss, I hadn't even touched her yet.

  “Yes. Please,” she begged.

  “Then let's see if you're ready for me. I can't be gentle, Dahlia. You've pushed me too far.”

  She shook her head, a curl falling down over her face. I brushed it back and tucked it behind her ear. “I don't want gentle.”

  Reaching down, I yanked on her skirt, lifting it up enough to find her drawers. I tugged them down, the ribbon a
t her waist no impediment to my eagerness to finally touch her pussy. My blunt fingers slid through her silky curls and over her heated flesh. Her folds were slick and I easily parted them to find her very hard clit.

  “Garrison!” she cried as I deftly stroked over it.

  “Like that?” I asked. My voice was barely recognizable, dark and rasping. She'd lowered me to just the basest of man. I needed her, needed her body and I reveled in her eagerness for the same from me. I found her untried entrance and slipped a finger inside.

  She cried out and shifted her hips.

  “So tight. I'm going to fill you with my cock, Dahlia.”

  I plunged my finger in and she cried out, not in pain, but in pleasure. “Yes!” she gasped. Because of her eagerness, her wantonness, I added a second finger, scissoring her and opening her up, accustoming her body to being filled, for my cock was so much bigger than my fingers.

  In and out I finger fucked her as I kissed her neck, licking and sucking on the tender skin. She smelled of fresh air and sunshine, but the heady, sweet scent of her arousal filled the air. Her hips began to buck and I delved even further.

  “There's your maidenhead. I'm going to take it, Dahlia. Right now with my fingers, because it's going to be too much for you to handle with my big cock. You're going to ride my cock as I fuck you against this door. You wanted it and I'm going to give it to you.”

  She kept saying “yes” over and over again as I whispered to her, so I wasn't hesitant when I breached her maidenhead, tearing through that tender bit of flesh that made her mine. She cried out and arched her back. I kissed her and swallowed her sounds of being taken so deeply. I didn't relent, didn't give her a moment's reprieve for she was dripping wet. Her need was as great as mine. Her response to pleasure was as great as mine. She wanted it. She wanted me.

  I was going to give it to her.

  I pulled my slick fingers free and grabbed behind her knee, lifting her up so my cock aligned with her dripping cunt.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” I growled. She quickly did as I bid and the head of my cock nudged at her entrance. With barely leashed control, I held back.

  “Dahlia, look at me.”

  She slowly opened her eyes.

  “Good girl. You're mine, Dahlia Lenox Lee.” I slid in an inch and her eyes widened. “You've been mine ever since you were five. But now, I'm going to fuck you. Hard like you need.”

  Heat flared in her eyes and she shifted her hips, taking me in an inch more.

  “I need it,” she repeated.

  I growled. It was my job, my privilege to give her exactly what she needed. With one quick thrust, I filled her completely, the head of my cock bumping into her womb.

  She arched her back, tilted her head back against the door and cried out my name.

  “You've come before, but never with me, never with my cock in you.”

  I didn't go slowly, wasn't gentle. The tight, hot feel of her had me moving in her, watching her as I did so to see what would push her to the brink. On one deft stroke, her eyes widened and she cried out, her inner walls clenching down.

  “Like that?” I did it again.

  “Yes!”

  The slick, wet sound of fucking filled the air. Her inner walls rippled and pulled me in, her hands gripped my shoulders; surely her fingernails would leave marks. I didn't care. I just fucked into her until she came, her scream caught in her throat. I didn't stop moving, didn't stop the motions of my hips. Not that I could do anything else. If someone knocked on the door because we were being too loud, I wouldn't have stopped. I wouldn't have stopped if someone shouted fire. Just seeing Dahlia pulse and quiver as she came, her eyes blurry and her cheeks flushed, was the most beautiful sight.

  As her pleasure ebbed, she slumped against me and I leaned into the wall even more to hold her up.

  “Again, sugarplum. You'll come again and I'll go over with you.”

  She shook her head against my shoulder, but I felt her inner walls clamp down on a very deft stroke. Her little breaths fanned my neck. It hadn't taken any time at all to discover what made her wetter, what made her clench down on my cock, even what made the little breathy sounds escape her parted lips. She was like an instrument I'd always known how to play.

  So when she began to squeeze my cock as I worked her, I knew she was about to come again. She was so sensitive, her body so easily brought to climax. My balls drew up at the knowledge that she gave over to me so passionately and completely. She might have been a virgin, but she was not a shy little miss. She submitted to me beautifully. Her sigh of pleasure pushed me to the brink. The pain of her fingernails digging into my shoulders pushed me directly into my own release. I thrust hard into her one last time, completely and deeply embedded, and shot my seed, pulse after blissful pulse, filling her.

  I slapped one hand onto the door beside her head and touched my forehead to hers. There was nothing like it, the pleasure her body wrung from me. I tried to catch my breath, to recover from the best fuck of my life. I'd known all along it would be good with Dahlia, but I never expected it to be like this. And this had just been a frantic fuck up against the door, fully clothed!

  Dahlia breathed against my neck, her heart pounding against my chest, her body limp. Slowly, carefully, I pulled out and lowered her to the ground only long enough to scoop her up and place her on the bed. I should have taken her with more care. I should have learned every inch of her body before fucking her, tenderly and sweetly, yet no less passionately. But I didn't. My wife had had me by my cock and there had been nothing I could have done about it. Now, though, I could show her everything I'd left out.

  I glanced down at my cock, slick with our combined fluids. “I'm still hard, Dahlia. With the first fuck out of the way, we can go all night.”

  With sleepy and sated eyes, she looked down at my slick, still hard cock.

  I put one knee on the bed and tugged off the shirt that she'd ripped open. “This time when I fuck you, we'll do it with our clothes off.”

  Instead of reaching for me, her eyes widened for the briefest of moments. She shook her head and turned on her side, facing away from me. “I have a headache.”

  4

  DAHLIA

  * * *

  “A headache?”

  I felt Garrison's weight press down into the bed and he turned me onto my back. He loomed over me, all sated male. Instead of seeing devilish satisfaction, it was confusion.

  “How the hell can you have a headache?”

  He ran a big hand over my sweaty brow and I was soothed by the gesture.

  I shrugged and couldn't meet his eyes. While I'd been able to hide my feelings from him in the past, after what we'd just done I didn't think I could keep anything from him anymore. While we were still in our clothes, he'd stripped me bare, exposed me to a connection, a bond with another person I'd never known before. When my parents had died, I'd thought that that kind of love had died as well. But this, with Garrison, was even deeper.

  I loved him. I'd loved him for years, perhaps from the very first, but it hadn't felt like this and it scared me. I didn't want him to leave me. I'd been left by my parents, and I couldn't handle if Garrison was no longer in my life.

  “I… I just do.”

  He took my chin in hand so I was forced to look at him.

  “Dahlia,” he warned. “Was I too rough? Did I scare you?”

  “No,” I admitted. I had been the initiator and aggressor, trying to turn his thoughts away from stripping me bare and seeing my scars. There was no reason for him to delay any longer.

  His gaze raked down my body. “Did I hurt you? Are you sore?”

  My cheeks flamed at his frank talk. The flesh between my legs was tender and when he'd pushed through my maidenhead with his fingers, which had been incredibly erotic. It had hurt, but he'd been too attentive, too good at what he was doing for it to linger. The pleasure of his hands, and then his cock, had made my mind go blank and my body do whatever it wanted. I felt his slick seed
seeping from me and while I ached a little inside, I also craved the pleasure he'd wrung from me. All night, just as he'd said.

  “Maybe a little,” I replied.

  Reaching down, he pulled up the hem of my skirt, his fingers sliding over my leg. I tried to bat his hands away, but he was too deft. “What are you doing?”

  “I'm going to look at your pussy.”

  “I told you I'm just a little sore, but otherwise I'm fine. There's no need.”

  He grinned. “You're better than fine.” The fabric of my dark skirt was bunched up over my hips. While my legs were together, he could easily see the dark curls at the juncture of my thighs since my drawers were on the floor by the door.

  He moved around to the foot of the bed then pushed my knees open. Reaching down, he worked at the laces of one boot, then the other, before tugging them both off to fall loudly to the wood floor. “Put your feet on the bed.”

  “Garrison!” I exclaimed. My scars were on my torso so I was not afraid he'd see them. My opposition was based on sheer maidenly mortification. “Shouldn't you turn the lantern down?”

  He looked up my body and grinned. He was so handsome, even when he was trying to get beneath my skirt. “No, we will not turn the damn lantern down. Ever. I will always see your body, and you mine. What happened to the vixen that seduced me into fucking her against the door?”

  He shifted so his knees were on the inside of my thighs, keeping them wide. His fingers stroked over my bare leg that was exposed above the tops of my stockings. “You're so soft. Your skin is like silk,” he murmured. I wasn't sure if it was his touch or the soft tone of his voice that made my breath catch.

  His hands moved further still so that his thumbs brushed through my damp curls and over my outer lips. “Shh,” he crooned. When he parted my folds, I sucked in my breath.

  “So beautiful, Dahlia.” His tone was reverent. “Your pussy is pink and slick and swollen. You're covered in my seed.” He spread his essence around. “I love seeing it, knowing I've marked you inside and out. Soon, I'll shave you bare.”