The Outlaw (Montana Men Book 3) Page 7
"Yes, I am thankful, but I wonder how she could have misjudged Mr. Meecham so egregiously."
I rolled her underneath me, my leg coming between hers. "It doesn’t matter now. You are mine and I am quite pleased."
She looked up at me through pale lashes as she bit her lip. "You are?"
"You question after all we did yesterday?"
She blushed prettily but didn't reply.
"Then I will have to show you how pleased I am." Nudging her legs wider, I settled my hips between the cradle of her thighs, nudged at her pussy. "I don't even have to see if you're wet for me. You're full of my seed."
"You are quite proud of yourself for this."
I grinned. "Immensely. No doubt my seed will take root immediately, for we have tried hard enough. But let's ensure this, shall we?"
CAROLINE
I awoke to sounds from downstairs. Finn had left me to sleep after yet another bout of fucking. The room was bright, the sun well up in the sky. Chores needed to be done; the men had taken over his tasks yesterday, however, he felt obligated to return to them today. It was his ranch and he needed to run it, although he did promise to return at lunch if Mrs. Campbell hadn't returned with clothing for me. He seemed quite pleased that I was naked and without nary a stitch to wear. He'd ruined my shift, my drawers had disappeared, and my dress buttons were scattered in all directions across the parlor floor. My corset was still serviceable, however that was all I possessed.
Slipping on one of his shirts Finn had given me to wear, I tiptoed to the top of the stairs and peeked down. The garment swamped my tiny frame so that I had to roll up the sleeves to use my hands, and the bottom came to just above my knees. It provided reasonable modesty, but there would be no question as to what Finn and I had been up to. Everyone most certainly was aware of our activities while alone yesterday, especially with the very satisfied grin Finn sported when he left, but it was another for me to flaunt it in just his shirt.
Mrs. Campbell had given me a reprieve, coming up the stairs with a brown paper parcel so I didn't have to search her out. She smiled at me as she met me on the landing. "Here you are. A few summer dresses to start you off. No doubt you'll want to go and pick out things on your own that match your taste soon enough."
I smiled back. "Thank you, Ma'am. I was most certainly in need."
She arched a brow at my shirt and I flushed.
"Your bag is downstairs. I'll bring it up later."
I was not sure what to say to the woman, who had a much better grasp of the way things were run than I did. "I'll...I'll just dress and go find Finn."
"He should either be in the stable at this time of day or perhaps in the paddock beyond. If not, one of the men will know."
Thirty minutes later I took the path to the stable. The house was set back away from the other ranch buildings, which, from what I could see, included a very large stable, a barn with a second story hayloft, and a few other buildings that dotted the landscape. I assumed the furthest structure where the men slept was set back behind the stable.
The front doors of the stable were open to the warm air, and the ripe scent of hay and horses greeted me. Voices carried from somewhere down the long row of stalls. I followed the sound.
"...certainly bested Meecham. Taking the woman he wanted and all of his money. You couldn't have planned it better."
"The bastard was livid," Finn said.
The other man with a voice I didn't recognize, spoke. "I bet. You've got the bank and the mine in Virginia City."
If Finn replied, I didn't hear it. I knew they were speaking of me, and they were referring to the inheritance. I leaned against the wall out of sight and let them talk.
"Does she know?"
"No. I have no reason to tell her."
"What? Why not? Afraid she'll run off and leave you?" The man laughed and I heard a slap, as if he'd hit Finn on the shoulder. "Couldn't please the woman? Perhaps she doesn't please you?"
The man with the mystery voice made me angry. How dare he speak about me this way! How dare Finn be a part of it? Did Finn think of me as just a body to fuck and a woman who brought apparent wealth to his coffers? Was he not responding to the man's questions because I really hadn't pleased him?
I walked quickly toward the door and into the bright sunshine. I couldn't stay here! Finn was just like every other man, using a woman for his own personal gain. He hadn't hit me, but he hadn't needed to. He'd used my body against me, all but pleasuring me into submission. Now that he had Meecham's money - had he said a bank? - was I expendable?
"Oh, sorry, ma'am." I bumped into another ranch hand, too hasty in my retreat to speak to him or even see who it was. He'd tipped his hat and I felt his eyes on me as I made my way to a horse hitched to a rail. Perhaps he belonged to the man I just passed. It mattered not.
I was a solid rider. Although I didn't have plenty of opportunity in Minneapolis to do so, I'd spent some of my youth with my grandparents in the country riding their horses. The challenge for me was to ride astride in a long dress. Undoing the lead, I put my foot in the stirrup and swung my leg over, arranging all the fabric so my other leg could be in the stirrup as well. It was not to be - not because of the dress - but because I was so small my feet did not reach. It was no matter, for I turned the horse with a tug on the reins and we were off. I squeezed my thighs into the horse's barrel, urging him on as I followed the fenceline that went behind the stable. When it ended, I just kept going straight, the sun at my back.
I didn't know how far I'd gone or how long I'd ridden before I heard another horse approach.
"Caroline!" It was Finn.
Turning my head, I watched him ride up, his horse moving at a faster clip than mine. His hat shielded his face from the sun, although I could see a hard line to his jaw. He was so big, yet so comfortable in the saddle. My body ached for him. It was as if it knew this was the man it belonged to, that this was the man who could give it such pleasure.
When he pulled up beside me, his horse snorted and blew out his breath, stomping at the ground. Finn reached out and grabbed the reins from my hands. "What are you doing out here?"
"Going for a ride," I replied. Wasn't it obvious?
"Yes, but why? Why didn't you tell me?"
I sniffed, tilted my chin up. "Because you were busy and I did not wish to disturb you."
"You are never a disturbance."
Why did he have to sound so nice? Was he trying to placate me since I brought him all of Meecham's wealth?
He looked toward the direction of the ranch, then back at me. "You do not have a bonnet and your skin will burn. How is it you don't have a hair out of place or a wrinkle when it's so miserably hot out?"
Finn's shirtsleeves were rolled up in deference to the heat. He removed his hat and wiped his brow with his forearm before doffing it again.
"Why should you worry, Finn? You've got what you wanted," I said, my voice as sour as my stomach.
"Your skin is so fair." He frowned. "Of course I worry."
I waved my hand through the air. "Not about that, about Meecham's money. Why didn't you tell me the inheritance was substantial?"
His eyes widened at the question. "I didn't tell you because it didn't matter."
"Didn't matter? A mine? A bank? Is that why you stole me from Meecham so you could get rich?"
Finn narrowed his eyes and stared at me. He took his hat from his head and placed it on mine, tilting the front back enough so that it didn't cover my face. It was much too large and wobbled slightly, but I could feel how my neck and face were shaded by the wide brim. "You were eavesdropping."
He didn't pose it as a question so I didn't have to respond.
"Why didn't you tell me? I asked about it, yet you diverted my attentions."
"Yes, because it doesn't matter," he repeated emphatically.
"Why not? Because I don't matter? You got what you wanted so now I'm inconsequential?"
"When I first met you, you feared I would strike you when I became angry.
" His voice was cold and clipped. Angry.
I swallowed and realized my mistake.
"You're angry now."
He nodded. The sun glinted off his red hair, a crease from the hat denting the curls. "Yes, Caroline. I'm angry."
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath. Counted.
"Caroline, what the hell are you doing?" he muttered.
"Counting."
"What the hell for?" He sounded more exasperated than before.
"Trying to calm myself."
"Maybe I should try it," he muttered. "I certainly need calm around you."
My eyes flew open at his words. "Are you going to hit me?"
"What did I tell you about that?" he asked. His horse shifted and my animal moved with his.
"That you wouldn't strike me."
"That's right. You knew I wouldn't lay a finger on you in harm, otherwise you wouldn't have riled my temper by casting aspersions on my character."
"I knew no such thing," I countered.
His red brow went up. "Did you fear me when you spoke your feelings or only after when I reminded you how riled you made me?"
I considered his words. "After."
"Which means you are starting to trust me."
No argument was at hand so I remained silent.
"If you trust me, then why would you think I'd marry you for Meecham's money?"
"Didn't you marry me to spite him?" I gripped the pommel beneath my palms.
"That was only a perk. I married you because I wanted you."
"Then why would you keep Meecham's money a secret?"
Finn sighed, ran his hand through his hair. "It's not a secret. I told you he had an inheritance. We were both completely distracted from the topic by almost two days of fucking. You were spanked for speaking of Meecham before when we were naked. I had no intention of speaking of him again for a while. I didn't tell you about the amount of his money because I don't care about it."
"You don't care about all the money? The bank? The mine?"
"Or his mansion in town," he added. "I don't care about it at all. Caroline, look around you. This ranch, it's mine. All mine. The land in every direction as far as you can see. Do you know how much it's worth? How much I'm worth? I don't need his money. I don't want his money. I'm wealthy in my own right."
"Then why didn't you tell me so?"
"Because I was fucking you. Jesus, woman. You were – are - all I wanted out of the arrangement. Not spiting Meecham. Not the will. Nothing. Just you."
"Oh dear," I muttered, my shoulders slumping.
"Oh dear, is right. Hang on," he told me, turning our horses around. My leg bumped into his as we rode back toward the stable. "You've been a bad girl, Caroline."
This time, he wasn't playing.
CHAPTER TEN
I felt terrible. I'd eavesdropped on part of a conversation, not hearing any of what he'd just shared with me. I'd speculated on his motives and assumed the worst. I'd doubted his character and, in his eyes, tarnished his honor.
The return ride felt interminable. Finn said nothing more and I felt the brunt, the weight of those words the entire way. I had been a bad girl. By the time we approached the stable, I was near tears. Some of the men working on a portion of the fence as we returned looked our way. I took a few deep breaths to stifle my imminent tears. I didn't want to shame myself, nor Finn, any more than I already had.
Finn dismounted, came around and helped me down, then tossed the reins to Frank who'd been waiting. "We'll be in the stable. No one is to interrupt." The tone of Finn's words, the stiffness of his bearing, was an easy indication to the man we were not going to have a secret tryst in a stall. It did not prevent my cheeks from reddening, however.
The air was cool inside, the pungent animal aroma permeating the air. Finn held my hand and led me down the long center hallway and into an empty stall. The door had been slid to the side and the interior was clean, with fresh hay on the floor, readied for a horse. "Stay here."
Finn exited the stall and I heard his footfall retreat. Peeking around the doorway, I watched him lift a saddle from a rack and place it over a waist high fence that was part of a small, indoor pen. What on earth was he doing? He just had two horses saddled. Grabbing the wooden saddle rack, he carried it easily back to the stall where I waited. I hopped out of the way as he came through the doorway and placed it in the middle of the room.
Wiping his hands on his pants, I noticed his corded forearms and his long fingers. I heated just remembering what he could do with those fingers. The idea evaporated when he looked to me, his green eyes blazing. He directed with his head. "Over the rack, Caro."
I frowned in confusion. "What?"
"Bend over the saddle rack. It's time for your punishment."
I felt the blood rush from my face and I took a step backward, bumping into the rough wooden wall of the stall. "I thought you...."
I swallowed.
Finn sighed. "I'm not going to hit you. But I am going to spank you. Now over the rack on your own or I will put you there myself. With an extra count of five."
The idea of being spanked held no appeal. I glanced out the doorway.
"Caroline," Finn warned.
There was nothing I could do. I was in the wrong. I'd blatantly and clearly shamed him and accused him of dishonor. If I tried to escape the punishment, it would only be more insulting to him. I could only imagine what he thought of me now.
Slowly, I walked over to the rack. A crossbeam, about as wide as two of my hands, was used to hold a saddle. Petite as I was, it was at waist height. Solid wooden legs came out at an angle to support the structure. I'd seen a saddle rack before, but never imagined it could be used for just such a purpose.
"Come around here." Finn directed me to the end of it, not the side. With a gentle hand on my back, he bent me over it. My head extended past the far end, the wood cool and hard beneath my belly and chest.
Finn came around to the front and knelt down. Without a word, he tied my wrists, one then the other, to the legs of the saddle rack.
"Finn, what are you--"
The look in his eyes had me biting back the remainder of my question. Gone was the careful, tender man who had taken me again and again in bed--and other places around the house. In his place was a man who was ready to mete out punishment to a naughty wife. Tears clogged my throat and filled my eyes. I didn't like to see Finn gaze upon me this way. His disappointment was palpable. As he used the leather to tie me securely, he checked both restraints to ensure they weren’t too tight or binding.
I tugged at his handiwork. There was a small amount of give, but I was not going anywhere. From his crouch, Finn reached forward and took hold of my dress at the base of my throat and tugged. His result was to rip the small buttons. Only a few came undone. He was not rough in the action; the buttons were dainty enough against the efforts of his big hands. Once the material was parted, he worked his fingers lower between me and the beam. He tugged again, sending more buttons flying, spreading the fabric wide. Soon my dress was ripped and parted to my navel.
He looked at me as he reached into my corset and easily lifted my breasts free. From this position, they were almost spilling out as they were. I wanted to question him but I knew it would fall on deaf ears. Finn wasn't interested in anything I had to say.
He stood and left the room. He was going to leave me like this, with my breasts exposed and pinned to a saddle rack? It was most likely just a minute, but it felt much longer when he returned. Kneeling in front of me again, I could see in his hand he held thin rope. He placed a short section on the ground and fiddled with the other, attaching a piece of metal, perhaps a buckle or a fastener used in some part of tackle. Finn nimbly tied the small object to the string's end, then reached forward and--
"Finn!" I cried out, trying to lift my body away from him. He was tying the narrow rope to my nipple! Carefully, he pulled on the tip with one hand and wrapped the rope around with the other before wrapping it snugly aroun
d me and tied it in a knot. Letting go, the rope dangled straight down, the weight of the metal tack piece pulling down on my nipple. "What are you doing? It hurts!"
He was right in front of me, our faces only a few inches apart. I could see the same hard glint in his eye, but now it mixed with a slight glaze of desire. He was looking down at his handiwork as I hissed at the feel of my nipple being pulled taut, the small weight tugging downward.
"Does it really hurt?" he murmured, flicking the weight with his finger, which made the rope sway. My nipple moved with the motion and I sucked in a breath. It didn't truly hurt, but it was a constant pull, a constant...oh my. "I didn't think so."
He quickly worked the other rope with another tack piece onto my other nipple, flicking the weight as he watched both of the objects swing. Looking in my eyes, he must have been able to gauge my comfort, to see that this was not causing me true pain, for he nodded his head - for who I didn't know - and stood. Glancing up, all I could see was the front placket of his pants and the hard outline of his cock through the fabric.
I tried to follow him with my eyes as he walked behind me, but when I turned my head, it pulled one breast up, which made the weight sway. I turned back, not wishing for that to continue. Working my dress up my legs, he bunched it at my waist. A foot nudged my feet apart until I was truly open and exposed.
"I like that you aren't wearing any drawers, Caroline. See how easily I can get to your pussy?" He didn't expect an answer and just continued to talk. "Let's see if you like having your nipples played with."
Fingers dipped directly into my open pussy. Finn sucked in a breath. "You're dripping."
I tried shifting my hips, but it moved the weights. Holding as still as I could, there was nothing I could do but let Finn play. For that was what his fingers were doing. They weren't working me as they usually did, bringing me to pleasure. They were just stroking over my slick flesh. It was pure torture. Somehow the pull on my nipples only made the touch of his fingers even hotter, even more intense, and I cried out.
Finn tsked me. "No, Caroline. Bad girls don't get to come now. I'll be back. Don't go anywhere."