The Outlaw (Montana Men Book 3) Page 5

  "Oh, Caro, don't cry."

  "Why...why do you call me that?" I asked between sobs.

  He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled me into his lap, tucked my head beneath his chin and held me tightly. His skin was warm, the hairs against my cheek tickled. His scent was verdant and virile.

  "It suits you," he replied, his hand stroking over my wayward hair.

  "How can you say that when we've known each other less than a day? I'm not like this, letting a man take liberties like you have."

  "I should hope not," he grumbled, before shrugging. "I've heard it happens this way sometimes."

  Using my fingers to wipe at my tear stained cheeks, I asked, "What happens this way?"

  "I've heard said that meeting your mate is like being struck by a bolt of lightning. When I first laid eyes on you, it was like that."

  I thought back to my first glimpse of him at the stage. It had been like that, like my breath had been stolen from my lungs. But his mate? He spoke as if we were destined for each other.

  "Did you feel it, Caro?"

  I was not used to a man who expressed his feelings. At least not without anger and shouting. I nodded. "Yes," I whispered.

  He squeezed me to him, as if afraid I might disappear.

  "It's too fast," I told him, sniffling. "This...everything. It shouldn't be like this. You shouldn't be like this."

  "Oh? Be like what?"

  I looked out into the sparse room and considered how he'd treated me thus far. "Gentle. Considerate."

  "I should be the savage outlaw and ravish you against your will?"

  The idea had my skin heating, my body softening, my nipples tightening. "I am not used to kind men," I admitted.

  "You mean you're used to cruel men," he clarified.

  "Yes."

  In one motion, Finn had me off his lap and tossed onto the bed. "Up on your hands and knees and grab the bars of the headboard." His voice had changed, his tone stern, the octave lower. Gone was every trace of the gentle man who'd just held me.

  "Finn, what are you--"

  "Do what I say, Caro."

  Turning slowly, I moved into the position he asked, grabbing hold of the cool bars. Looking over my shoulder, I waited for what he intended next.

  "I'm not always gentle or considerate. I can be rough. In fact, I like it rough. Bend forward and lift your ass in the air. Higher."

  Doing so had my shoulders lowering, my bottom and no doubt my womanhood on complete display.

  "The men you knew were cruel. I'm not. I'm going to take you again, Caroline."

  He moved behind me, his cock once more thick and long, ready to fuck me. I clenched my inner walls in anticipation.

  "I'm not going to be kind. Or gentle." He stroked a hand down my back, the touch firm, and he gripped my hip, pulling me back so I felt his cock against my slippery core. "Or considerate."

  After a moment of his cock nudging into place, he slid in deep in one quick thrust. I cried out at the speed of it, the surprise at being filled so deeply. I was a little sore, my inner walls stretching to accommodate the sheer size of him. He pulled back, rammed in again.

  "This, Caro, this isn't cruel." His breathing soughed from his lungs, his words labored.

  I cried out every time his hips slammed into mine, each time the blunt head of his cock bumped into my womb. I was so wet, so slick from his earlier seed the sound filled the room. Flesh slapped against flesh. Finn's large hands moved from my hips to cup my breasts, his fingers stroking over my nipples, pulling and tugging on them almost painfully.

  The added sensation had me clutching him from within, as if my body wanted to hold him in deep. But Finn would have nothing of it. This was Finn claiming me. He was taking me.

  "This is fucking, Caroline. Rough. Hot. Sweaty."

  Yes, yes it was. I could feel my pleasure building, like I was climbing a mountain and desperately wanting to get to the pinnacle.

  "Am I being considerate?" He lowered himself so his chest aligned the length of my back so his voice was right at my ear.

  "No," I gasped at one rough thrust.

  "Am I being kind?"

  "You're...you're not hurting me."

  His fingers on my nipples pinched down. Roughly. And I came. I screamed, the sharp near pain of his assault on my nipples combined with his cock rubbing and stroking over that secret place within me did it. I was flung from the mountaintop without any wings, falling, falling, yet safe in Finn's arms.

  "Good girl. Such a good girl," he crooned as I went slack in his hold, my sweaty fingers slipping from the bars. "Don't let go, baby."

  I gripped the metal harder.

  "A little pain can bring pleasure, Caro. And yet, it's not being cruel. A cruelty would be denying you your orgasm. You're so beautiful when you come. Do you want to come again?" He growled the last as he continued to rock in and out of my very depths.

  I licked my lips, swallowed against a dry throat. How did he do it? How could he make me come again? And again? "Yes."

  Reaching between us, he rubbed a finger over that spot. "There's your clit. It's so hard. I'm going to come so hard. I want to take you with me."

  He worked that little nub, my clit, as he fucked me. This was definitely fucking. It was primal, sweaty, rough, just as he said. And I loved it.

  I was too sensitive, too ready to come again to even consider holding back. This time, the orgasm was softer, yet no less intense, rolling through me like thunderclouds after that quick burst of lightning.

  Finn came, too. This time I knew what to expect. I felt his cock grow impossibly larger on the last stroke, holding himself deep. His seed, hot and thick, filled me to overflowing. Again.

  Pulling me down with him, my fingers slipped from the rail so we lay like two spoons in a drawer, his cock still buried deep, still joined as one, his sticky essence coating our thighs.

  "There. Fucked by an outlaw."

  I felt Finn slip into sleep directly after his words, his hold going lax, his breath evening against my neck.

  That...that had been, wow. My body still tingled and pulsed from his most aggressive attentions. That hadn't just been a claiming, but a demonstration. He was showing me that not all men were cruel. That he wasn't cruel. Nor was he always kind or considerate. I'd always wanted a man who was the antithesis of my father. Gentle, mild, calm. Finn was not that kind of man. Not at all. He had dominated my body, through soft caresses or hard fucking, and I'd readily submitted. And, it seemed, I was well and fine with that.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  FINN

  We rode up to the ranch house late the next morning. I let Caroline sleep as long as possible until I couldn't hold off any longer. I'd woken with my usual hard cock, but for the first time, I had a woman to slake my need. I'd had women in my time, but none had ever been in my bed. Caroline was the first. And last.

  I tugged the sheet off her body so I could look my fill as she lay unknowing. Her breasts were plump and full in comparison to her small waist. I wanted to reach out and cup them, feel their softness in my palms. The curls between her thighs, so silky soft and pale, would have to go. I wanted to feel only her slick flesh against my tongue, which would only make my efforts that much more sensitive for her. Dried seed coated her thighs, tinged with her virgin's blood. I'd wiped some of the combination away, but my emissions were copious. There was no question she would swell with my child before fall.

  She was pure temptation and I was weak when it came to slaking my needs. I wanted to take the jar of ointment down from the shelf and begin to train her ass for my cock, but not now. Later, definitely. My cock had other plans. And so I rolled her on top of me, moved her legs to rest on either side of mine and slipped into her. She came awake as I buried myself deep.

  "Ride me, Caroline," I commanded, my voice rough from sleep and need.

  "I...I don't know how," she whispered.

  Helping her sit up, I held her waist, lifting and lowering her onto my cock, all the while loo
king my fill at her luscious curves. "I'll show you," I promised. And I did.

  Three hours later, I wanted her again. It was torture to have her sitting on my lap, her ass right above my cock for the ride back to the ranch. Work could wait. My need for my wife could not. I wanted to carry her over the threshold and up to our bedroom and not let her leave for a week. Surely by then I'd be sated.

  The sight of Meecham standing on my porch steps diminished my ardor. He wore a black suit, crisp and sharp. His balding head and jowls were damp with sweat from the sun. The thin mustache above his lip did nothing to age his baby face; it was all the facial hair he could grow.

  "Leaving the bank unattended, Junior?" I asked. He hated to be called that, a constant reminder that he wasn't his own man, but his father's son.

  His thin lips pursed, which made them disappear. He wiped at his brow with his handkerchief, but kept his eyes on Caroline. This was the first he'd seen of her and most certainly realized what he'd lost. "Stevens will be throwing you in jail."

  I lowered Caroline to the ground, then dismounted myself. I put one hand on her shoulder to keep her close, but she did not appear to want to leave my side, which was fine by me. "Oh, what for?"

  Meecham stepped off the porch and approached. "Kidnapping, unlawful imprisonment. Rape."

  I was calm until he said the word rape. "Did I force my attentions on you, Caroline?"

  Her hair was back once again in a simple, neat bun at the nape of her neck, all curls perfectly in place. She wore the pale blue dress I pulled from the hiding place before our simple breakfast in the shack. That was all. Her shift had been ripped and was of no use. I refused her drawers and her corset. The first was banned so I could have easy access, the latter because it was too confining and restrictive. Perhaps it was her tight nipples pressing against her dress that had Meecham hurling ridiculous allegations. This had me questioning my ban on the corset; I wanted no man to see how her nipples responded to me.

  "No," she replied softly, then repeated it, only louder.

  Frank - one of my ranch hands - approached. "Need any help, boss?"

  My men weren't just my employees; they were friends. Family really. There was no question that all of the men had seen Meecham ride up. I could only imagine his tirade yesterday when he did. Whether he spent the night somewhere - I wouldn't put it past the man to claim a guest room - or if he rode from town once again this morning, I did not know.

  "Just take care of the horse. I can take care of Junior."

  "No problem," Frank replied.

  "Let me introduce you to my wife, Caroline."

  "Wife?" Meecham bellowed.

  Frank took a step toward the bastard.

  "I've got him, Frank. Thank you."

  The man led the horse away, but I had no doubt he'd send someone back to monitor Meecham.

  "As for kidnapping," I continued, as if Meecham hadn't shouted, "I was too excited to wait another minute to see her, so I stopped the stage. McCallister didn't mind."

  "You can't be married to her." Spittle went flying and the man's tone had Caroline moving behind me.

  "I can. Just so happens I ran into Stevens yesterday and he performed the ceremony."

  He must have seen the truth on my face or heard it in my voice, because his face turned a mottled red and I feared for his health. His waistline was quite broad from overindulgence. An excess of food, liquor and women led to a poor well-being.

  He approached, pointing a finger at me, and I pushed Caroline behind me all the way. I heard footsteps and knew some of my men had joined us, but held back.

  "It was his money. You wanted it all. You don't want her," he slurred. "You'd take any bitch that came along if she had an inheritance."

  I heard Caroline gasp, but she didn't speak.

  "Get the hell off my property, Junior. There's nothing here that belongs to you. Never did. You might not be able to pin a charge on me, but I won't hesitate to stick you with trespassing. Men, see that Junior gets back to town. I need to tend to my wife."

  Turning, I took Caroline's hand and led her inside, steering clear of Meecham. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two of my men each take an arm and drag the man toward the stables. Walking would take too long to be rid of the bastard. No doubt horses were being readied for the ride.

  The air was cooler inside, the sun not yet having come around to the front of the house. My housekeeper met us at the door.

  "The man spent the night. Just marched on in after waiting for you and picked a room," Mrs. Campbell muttered. She was in her fifties, a rotund woman who did not keep her feelings to herself. "I had Frank spend the night here in the house with me. I don't trust Mr. Meecham as far as I can throw him." She humphed her dislike.

  I made introductions. "Mrs. Campbell, this is my wife."

  The woman, at first surprised, smiled broadly at Caroline. "Aren't you such a pretty little thing?"

  Caroline only smiled back, most likely unsure of how to respond to that.

  "I know Thursday is the usual day to go into town for supplies, but would it be too much trouble to make the trip today instead? Caroline came in on the stage yesterday, and got separated from her bag. She has no other clothes but what is upon her back. Besides retrieving the bag - most likely Stevens has it - could you go to the Mercantile and select some things she might need?"

  The older woman nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. "Of course. Poor dear. Life on a ranch can be hard on a woman, especially without any of her things about her. I'll get you squared away in no time. If it's all right with you, perhaps I'll spend the night in town with my sister, while the supplies return with the men."

  This was one of the many reasons why I loved the woman; she always had an insight into what I needed before I even asked. This time, it was privacy. She treated me like a son, although she had four grown ones of her own.

  "I'm sure your sister will be pleased for the extended visit." They saw each other every week, however not often overnight.

  She reached behind her and untied the apron about her ample waist as she smiled at Caroline. "Let me get my hat and I'll track down one of the men."

  I was relieved she did not ask more questions. Surely she had plenty as I'd left the ranch yesterday and returned with a bride in tow today. From the way she eyed us, she saw my lack of patience and did not linger for idle chitchat. Meecham had wasted precious time that I could have spent alone with my new wife.

  "Let the men with Meecham leave first. You should not be around him at any time. Be careful in town," I warned.

  She grimaced. "I'll steer clear of the likes of him. I'll have to burn those sheets he slept on." She retreated toward the kitchen, grumbling to herself about Meecham. I ran my hand over my face. A shave was past due, but it could wait. Everything could wait. I took the opportunity to tug Caroline up the steps before we were waylaid by anyone or anything else.

  ***

  "What did Mr. Meecham mean when he said you married me for the inheritance?"

  While I undid the buttons down the front of her dress, my wife questioned me. We were in my – our - bedroom, the door closed, sunlight streaming through the two large windows. They were open to the fresh air, the simple curtains moving in the slight breeze. The sound of horses came from a distance, hopefully meaning the departure of Meecham.

  "His father did not have a will, it seems, which means that you, as his bride, inherited."

  I didn't want to tell her she was now the owner of the man's large house on the western edge of town, the bank and a large share in a silver mine in Virginia City. It didn't matter at the moment. All that mattered was getting her naked.

  "Mr. Meecham, Jr. didn't inherit?"

  I pushed the dress off her shoulders and worked it free of one arm, then the other. "Once you wed by proxy, you were his legal wife, therefore it went to you instead of Junior."

  "That's why he's mad?"

  The dress caught on her hips, but she was naked from the waist up. I cu
pped her breasts in my hands. She sighed when I ran my thumbs over her plump nipples. It was a pleasure to watch them harden.

  "Junior's not a wealthy man in his own right, living solely off his father's money. I doubt Meecham, Sr. thought he would drop dead and didn't make provisions for his son. You saw Junior. He's not a boy, but a man grown. He's had opportunity to make something of himself, but chose the easy path instead. The lazy path. Now, he has nothing."

  "Not even me." Caroline worked at the buttons on my shirt and had them almost undone.

  I tugged on her nipples, which had her sucking in a breath and meeting my gaze, just as I'd wanted. "Especially you," I growled. "Enough about Meecham."

  "But he's so angry," she countered.

  "Caroline," I scolded. "I do not want to talk about Meecham when I've got your breasts in my hands. If you continue to talk out of turn, I'm going to think you're a bad girl."

  She stepped back, but I didn't let her, stepping forward to keep no distance between us, my hands still on her lovely flesh. Her eyes widened at my words. "Bad?" she whispered. "What do you mean?"

  It was time to reinforce what I'd already taught her. I would not be cruel. I would not strike her. I could be trusted. "Are you a bad girl, Caroline?"

  She paled. I was pushing her, but it had to be done.

  "What...what would you do to me if I were?"

  I grinned. "First I'd have to catch you. Then I'd probably lean you over the nearest hard surface, lift your dress and give you a spanking. I'd check your pussy and see if it made you wet - I bet it would - and then I'd fuck you."

  The color returned to her cheeks at the crudeness of my words, but she wasn't offended. Affected, definitely. Her pupils dilated and the blue of her eyes all but disappeared. I could see her pulse at her neck throbbing against the tender skin. Her nipples were so hard I bet they ached.

  I grinned at her, letting her know while I was serious about spanking her ass if she was truly a bad girl, I was only playing - and that punishment was always followed up with pleasure.

  "Oh," she whispered, watching me closely.

  "Are you a bad girl, Caro?" I asked, stripping off my shirt.