The Cowboy (Montana Men Book 2) Page 6

  Straightening my spine, I replied as calmly as I could muster. "I went for a walk." Wasn't that plain to him?

  "It's over a mile back to the ranch!" His voice boomed and a bird flew off in surprise.

  I tilted my head back as if the strong words had hit me in the face. "It was such a nice day, Wyatt, and I wanted to get out and enjoy it. Besides, sitting down was not an option. I assure you, I wasn't lost. Following the creek ensures that."

  He looked up at the sky, and then rubbed the back of his neck. "This isn't Minneapolis, Emily."

  The man seemed a little daft. "Of course, it's not. That's why I wanted to go for a walk. To enjoy my new world."

  Wyatt stepped closer so he loomed over me, forcing my head back to keep eye contact. "This world is filled with rattlesnakes, prairie dog holes to fall into and break your leg, severe thunderstorms, flash floods and an occasional wildcat."

  I could feel the color drain from my face as I looked around, as if there were snakes about that I had not noticed.

  "Wyatt - "

  He held up a hand to stop me. The cords in his neck were tight, his bearing tense. "No one goes off without telling someone where they’re headed, not even the men who were born and raised in these parts. Wasn't Mrs. Perrin in the kitchen?"

  "Yes, but I didn't see the need to disturb her."

  "You disturbed her when you were nowhere to be found."

  "Oh," I replied, disheartened.

  "Death is easy to find out here, Emily."

  There was nothing I could say, so I nodded my head in understanding. I'd made a huge error, however, I never dreamed that something as innocuous as going for a walk would lead to trouble on my part. Wyatt was indeed flustered and clearly worried about my well-being and I'd not taken his concerns, nor Mrs. Perrin's, into account when I ventured off. I was not used to being worried over.

  Wyatt's anger seemed to have abated by the time we returned to the house, although the silence between us on the ride was not comfortable. He dismounted, then helped me down from his horse. On the porch stood Mrs. Perrin, wiping her hands on the apron.

  "Good, you are well. I'm so relieved." Her concern was evident and I felt even worse for it.

  "I’ll see to the horse and then be in for dinner," Wyatt said as he headed towards the stable. By the tone of his voice and his tense gait, I knew he was still upset.

  "I am sorry, Mrs. Perrin, for scaring everyone. It seems I have more to learn than just cooking," I replied, dejectedly. In just a day, I'd been spanked twice, and most likely a third time was to come. My bottom couldn't stand for any more trouble on my part.

  "He was quite concerned, was your husband. That's a good sign," Mrs. Perrin smiled, and then went inside. I frowned, confused by her words.

  Alone, I couldn't just remain on the porch. Mrs. Perrin didn't need me to assist her; I'd only make things even worse than they already were. I went upstairs to wash at the ewer and basin and fix my hair, hoping to appear presentable to Wyatt. I did not wish to look unkempt in front of him, although my less than perfect state was most certainly partly his fault. If my appearance were the only thing about me in which he could be pleased, I needed to remain vigilant to keep him from finding me deficient in that as well.

  Once I’d freshened up, I followed my nose to the kitchen. There, Wyatt was drying his hands on a towel as Mrs. Perrin placed a bowl of potatoes on the table. Wyatt held my chair out for me while Mrs. Perrin undid her apron and placed it beside the sink. She quietly went out the back door.

  "Isn't she staying?" I asked generally, putting some peas on my plate. Having the woman join us would have been a great buffer.

  "She ate her meal while it was hot and is going to visit with Mr. Pegg." He forked a piece of meat into his mouth.

  The barbed words hit their mark. The buttered peas I'd been chewing tasted like sawdust and were difficult to swallow. "I'm sorry, Wyatt, for scaring you as I did. It was certainly not my intention to do so."

  "There are rules here that must be followed. It could mean the difference between life and death."

  Placing my fork on my plate, I folded my hands in my lap and looked at Wyatt. His dark hair was tousled, a lock falling over his forehead.

  "Perhaps you can share them with me before I venture off into danger once again. A little forewarning would serve me well." Ignorance was not my fault in this case. How was I to know of the hidden dangers of the Montana Territory if they weren't told to me?

  "There's everything from flash floods to blizzards, rattlesnakes to slivers. Everything can kill you." He answered through clenched teeth.

  "I shall be more diligent in the future."

  Wyatt grunted around a forkful of potatoes. "We will talk about this further later. I need time to consider the appropriate punishment."

  "Punish--"

  I remained quiet as long as I could, then had to speak up. "Wyatt." I bit my lip, then decided to forge on. He was listening as he cut his meat. "Wyatt, my bott--, I mean, my ass is so sore from the other times," I pleaded.

  "Mmm, yes. It seems you've had a rough start, haven't you?"

  "I don't think I can do anything right." I looked down at my plate, ashamed. What else could I do poorly? Was there anything in which I had talent? Oh yes, I could please my husband in bed. By what Mrs. Perrin had shared, that was most important.

  "Then I will consider an alternate punishment and will delay it's delivery until tomorrow."

  I glanced up at my husband in surprise.

  "What? You don't think I have your best interests at heart?" he asked before taking a bite of potatoes.

  "I'm sure you're wondering the same of me," I replied softly.

  Wyatt reached across the table and took my hand. His was warm, the callouses rough against the back of my hand. "You are the only person I value enough to correct in such a fashion. I do it because you are my wife. We have only known each other a brief time--"

  "A day," I added.

  "And yet you are the most important thing in my life."

  His unexpected words filled an empty place in my heart. He hadn't mentioned love, but his avowal was still quite impressive. I shifted on the wooden seat, my ass still smarting. "I should keep that in mind for tomorrow when I'm punished, I suppose."

  He wiped his mouth with his napkin, placed it on the table next to his plate.

  "And tonight, when I train your ass to take me," he added, reminding me of what was to come. "I want you to show me what you've learned today."

  I swallowed down the lump of dread in my throat. What would he do when he discovered I'd done nothing he'd requested? Would the punishments never end?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  WYATT

  "Take off your dress, and get on the bed on your hands and knees."

  I watched Emily closely. She was keeping something to herself. Again. Trepidation was visible in her expression, the way she slowly undid her buttons down her bodice. The mere fact that she was silent as she completed the task was indication enough. I was quickly learning that Emily was neither meek nor mild, but was a quick study. I almost came in my pants when I saw she'd complied with my no drawers rule. She was trying, however and I had to take that into account. I'd be gray before my time if she continued to scare me as she had.

  When Mrs. Perrin had told me she had no idea where my wife had gone, I'd searched the stables, thinking perhaps she was looking at the horses. When I didn’t find her there, I truly began to panic. The sense of the unknown, the lack of control over the situation had me losing some rationality. I had to take some calming breaths to think clearly. Where would she have gone? Quickly mounting my horse, I'd searched the grounds around the house in ever widening circles until I saw her, a small dot on the horizon by the creek. The relief at finding her mingled with my anger at her having scared me so. I'd held onto this anger, although by a tenuous thread. She'd been wrong, going off as she had, but as she pointed out, she was not aware of the danger. That did not mean though, that she should not
be punished.

  I stood stock still, and watched as she climbed onto the bed and positioned herself on her hands and knees as I’d asked - her ass facing me, her pussy so pink and swollen. Her breasts hung down beneath her, the tips hardening as I watched. I shifted my hard cock as it pressed uncomfortably against the front of my pants. I wanted to take them off, but I knew this would be all over if I did so. This wasn't about my pleasure; this was about Emily.

  "Down on your forearms, Emily. I want your ass up and out for me."

  A quick glance over her shoulder had me going slowly. She might have experimented and tested her curiosity, but her ass was truly untried, and I could see the wariness and worry that I might hurt her in her expression.

  I picked up the dildo from the bedside table. "Did you get this all the way in?"

  Her small rosette winked at me, a certainty that she was clenching tightly. She shook her head, a wayward curl coming loose and falling over her face.

  "Only a little bit then?"

  "No, Wyatt. I didn't use it."

  "Fingers then."

  "No. Not at all."

  She hadn't done as I'd requested. Again. The woman was so contrary she'd never be able to sit down. I closed my eyes for a moment, that tenuous hold quickly slipping away.

  "Wyatt, I didn't want to do it."

  "No, I'd think not," I replied dryly. "But it was something I asked of you and you should have done it to please me."

  "I didn't want to do it by myself. You said I could pleasure myself all I wanted, but I wasn't interested in doing that...without you."Her softly spoken admission had me surprised and pleased at the same time."Don't be cross," she added.

  How could I be mad after hearing that? How could I be mad that she wanted me to help her? Mad that she wasn't able to pleasure herself without me? All the tension, all the anger, rushed out of me like whiskey from a topped barrel. "I am not mad, baby, that you want me to show you - that you wanted to wait for me. Nor am I upset that you disobeyed. In this instance, I am quite pleased."

  The line of her body was all tension, but at my words, her muscles relaxed and I saw all of her worries disappear. Perhaps not all of her worries, for she knew the dildo would end up embedded deep within her soon enough. I would be as gentle as possible when I breached her virgin ass and eventually make her come. She would find pleasure in the act. As lusty as she was, I had no doubt of that.

  The knowledge that she was concerned enough to please me had me admiring her readily.

  Grabbing the jar of lubricant, I scooped some of the slick, greasy substance onto my fingers and stepped up to the edge of the bed.

  "Have you ever played with your ass, Emily?"

  "No." I saw her fingers grip the quilt.

  When I placed one hand on her hip, she startled.

  "Shh," I crooned, lowering my voice to a more soothing tone. "The first thing to do is relax."

  She muttered something under her breath about her ass and relaxing that I wasn't going to question. I smiled that her sass had returned, which meant she wasn't afraid of me. Only when she’d exhaled and loosened her grip, did I finally touch her with the gentlest of caresses. I ran my free hand down her back, feeling the bumps of her spine, letting her settle as I brushed my thumb over the clenching opening in small circles. "Easy, Emily."

  I settled into the task, just letting my thumb lazily brush over her, never stopping, never easing up, adding the slightest increase of pressure every few minutes. All the while I talked to her, offering encouraging words. You're doing so well. You are so beautiful. Look how you like my thumb. I'm going to fill your ass soon, Emily. I love the way you are submitting. The words were true. Everything I said was in earnest, as she was giving herself to me in one of the most intimate of ways.

  Emily rested her head on the mattress, her hair completely fallen from the pins, the thick curls cascading over the quilt in wild abandon. Soft pants escaped her lips and her skin was misted with perspiration. Reaching around, I cupped a breast and played with the nipple, which had her relaxing her muscles, my thumb slipping into her, before she clamped down once again.

  "Oh!" she gasped as the size of my thumb held her open and knew that I was waking up places in her body she never knew could be pleasure centers - places where, if tended properly, could bring about the most intense orgasms. She'd soon crave - no need - to have me play with her ass. To fuck it.

  "That's it, Emily." I moved the tip of my thumb in and out easily, the lubricant coating her now inside and out. "Does that hurt?" The way she was breathing heavily, the way her face was softened by pleasure, not pinched in pain, were answers enough.

  "What does it feel like?"

  I wanted her to focus on my thumb, to tell me what it did for her.

  "It's...odd. I don't want something there, my body wants to push it out. But, but it feels...full."

  I worked her with my thumb, mimicking what my cock would do there eventually.

  "Oh, there's places that feel...oh God."

  It was important that it not be painful. If done wrong, the experience would be something Emily did not wish to repeat. From the way she gripped the quilt, the way her back arched like a cat, and the breathy sounds escaping her open lips, this did not seem to be a problem. "Just a little more, then I'll fuck your lonely pussy."

  I couldn't miss her arousal glistening on her folds, running down her thighs. She was enjoying this, although she would deny it verbally. Even her hips began to shift back as if trying to push my thumb deeper.

  "You want me to fuck you, don't you? It feels so good, doesn't it, baby?"

  "Oh, Wyatt, please!" she cried. I moved my hand away from her breast and undid my pants, keeping my thumb carefully in place. Now that I had breached her, it was important it remained within, keeping her stretched for as long as possible. Lining myself up, I nudged her pussy with the weeping tip of my cock. I was going to fill her pussy with my cock and her ass with my thumb.

  "Feel that? I'm so hard for you." The tip of my cock was almost burned from the heat of her wet flesh.

  Shifting my hips, I slowly worked myself inside, at the same time nudging my thumb deeper until it was in all the way. I could feel the ring of her ass clamping down, trying to close up, yet unable to. With each clenching motion, she shivered, her nerves sparking like a match, her body bursting into flames. Her skin flushed pink all over and her hair clung to her damp forehead.

  "Wyatt!" she groaned, whipping her head around to look at me. Her eyes were darkened by lust, her gaze blurry and unfocused by the all-consuming need within her.

  "Does that feel good?" I murmured, trying my best not to move. The question was rhetorical as there was no doubt about the pleasure overtaking her.

  "I'm so full," she replied, her upper body shifting to accommodate me so fully.

  I alternated pulling back and thrusting deep, my cock slipping out as my thumb filled her, then the other way, again and again. "Do you like my thumb in you?" She moaned as I turned my thumb slightly. "Oh, right there is it? You like it when I rub right there?"

  She nodded her head, eyes closed, mouth open. "Yes, Wyatt. I'm going to come."

  "Good girl. You're such a good girl. Come for me. Come while I'm fucking your pussy and ass."

  I felt her inner muscles begin to pulse and clench, rhythmically pulling me into her even deeper as she came. She screamed her release, her hips pushing back and I buried myself deep within her, shifting my hips and working my thumb to nudge against the places I knew would prolong her release.

  It was one of the most erotic sights I'd ever seen; her body claimed by mine completely - how beautiful she was in her throes of passion. Everything about Emily was so carnal and decadent that I couldn't hold off any longer. I let her inner walls milk my cock until I came, shooting thick, hot seed up into her. I lowered myself so my chest rested against her back, my weight held aloft by one hand on the bed. I leaned in and kissed the crease between her neck and shoulder, licking the salty sweat from her sk
in. Very slowly and cautiously, I pulled out of her, watching her back entrance wink closed and my seed drip from her pussy.

  Before she could recover her senses, I dipped the dildo into the greasy lubricant and lined it up with her ass, slowly twisting and working it inside. Replete as she was, she only moaned at the intrusion. Soon enough, it went in all the way, a small handle protruding that kept her ass cheeks spread. Adding this to the sight of her swollen pussy lips coated in my seed, I was filled with the prowess of a husband pleased with his wife.

  Falling to my side, I tugged Emily down so she laid flat on her belly, my arm over her back. Brushing her hair back from her face, I kissed her brow. "Sleep. You've been such a good girl. Sleep."

  "But the dildo," she murmured dreamily.

  "It will stay in all night."

  She didn't even open her eyes as she was already asleep, a small smile on her lips.

  ***

  The first rays of the sun filtered through the curtains, the cool air coming in through the open window. The birds had been up for some time, chirping their usual morning song to wake me. Now, besides chores that needed my morning attention, I had Emily. She was still asleep, curled up on her side with one hand resting on my belly. Her curly hair was a dark curtain fanned out on the pillow, which during the night, tickling my face. Her creamy shoulders appeared above the white sheet and I slowly pulled the material lower to expose her breasts. Her nipples were a bright pink, all puffy and soft, beckoning to me to lower my head and suckle.

  My usual morning erection pulsed and throbbed as I thought about tasting those tempting tips, and I worked the sheet down until it pooled about her thighs. Between her legs, her pink pussy lips were very inviting. I loved seeing her shaved. Every time I looked at her pussy, my thoughts were solely of claiming her. Every time. I assumed my obsession and need for her would eventually diminish, but I couldn't imagine how. As I learned more about her - about how she thought, moved, fucked - the more I liked. Wanted. Needed.

  She was at odds with herself, questioning her abilities as a wife when she could not complete even the most basic of tasks. In retrospect, the previous morning’s incident with the burned biscuits now seemed almost humorous. I had no clue as to what she'd mixed to make them, but they could be lethal weapons if any outlaws ventured onto my land. I had little doubt she could clean. Hell, no one was as competent as Mrs. Perrin. When listing my requirements for a wife for Mrs. Bidwell, none included housekeeping or cooking or even sewing. My needs included passion, responsiveness, nurturing and caring. I'd of course gone into some detail on my physical preferences, and Emily's voluptuous form certainly matched what I'd shared with the brothel owner.