The Outlaw (Montana Men Book 3) Page 9

  Mrs. Bidwell had assumed that Mr. Meecham's neighbors would say good riddance to him as well if he'd died in his sleep. From what Finn had said, he had a mistress and frequented the town brothel. I could easily imagine him returning home drunk. It would not be difficult to lace some whiskey with laudanum and kill him. Stevens would say good riddance as well.

  Then, I'd be free. A wealthy widow with the freedom to do whatever I chose. My own life, with money and access to do anything I wished. The only payment was a few days as the man's bride. Mrs. Bidwell had known I would have paid that price for freedom.

  Finn reached out and placed the little bottle on the porch rail. "Bridal gift? Laudanum?"

  My husband was too smart to believe those words. I didn't believe them either.

  "It is a mystery, Finn."

  I had to distract him from this line of thought.

  "Do you feel freedom as she wrote in your marriage to me?"

  That was a difficult question. It was liberating being with a man who was too good for me. He was attentive and worried about me, protected me. There was no doubt of his possession. But possession often meant being confined and unable to be free. He'd tied me to the saddle rack. I had been far from free. But he'd worked my body in a way that had me coming, the most intense orgasm so far. That, within itself, was freeing.

  It was so confusing!

  "It's only been a few days," I countered.

  Finn gave a slight nod of his head. The sun had shifted from behind a cloud and gleamed off his red hair. He was so handsome, so...bright in spirit that it almost hurt to look at him. He was too...good. How could I let this man be my husband? I was bad and the laudanum was only a reminder of that.

  "I'm not Meecham, Caroline."

  I had to distract him, to change the conversation entirely. I couldn't do it with words, for I could not offer him the truth. So instead I had to resort to action. I shimmied backward and slid off his lap, landing on my porch floor. Pushing his legs apart, I came up on my knees and worked at the placket on his pants.

  "Caro," he said, his voice low.

  I glanced up at him through my lashes. He was looking at me so intently, his green eyes dark. He clenched his jaw as I reached in and took hold of his cock, pulling him from his pants.

  "Someone might see," he uttered.

  I cared. I did care if someone saw me sucking my husband's cock. He'd said this kind of attentiveness was private, but I felt powerful holding his rigid length in my small hand. His hips lifted and pushed him further into my palm. I had control over him. I was in charge of his pleasure.

  "Then you should keep watch for me."

  I lowered my head and took him deep right away, feeling the wide head nudge the back of my throat. I tempered the need to choke and breathed through my nose. He felt warm and hard against my tongue, the bulging vein along the bottom pulsing in my mouth. His taste was salty and dark, as carnal as the action itself.

  Fingers stroked over my head and tangled in my hair, pulling me onto him even more, yet the hold was gentle.

  "That feels so good," Finn murmured, his voice so rough he could have been chewing rocks.

  His touch, his words, the way he thickened and lengthened in my mouth had me believing him. I was pleasing him. I was making him lose control. Glancing up, all the while drawing on him and my cheeks pulling in, I saw his eyes fog with pleasure, then slip closed, his head falling back against the high back of the chair.

  It was possible someone could see us, but Finn was too lost to care. I was too lost in my power over him to worry. This was between us. This pleasure was something I could give him. I had nothing, was nothing, and yet I could offer him this. I could make him feel...me. I couldn't say it with words; I could show it with action.

  "Swallow, Caro," he said, just before I felt the first pulse of hot seed coat my tongue, jet into the back of my throat. I did as he said, swallowing again and again. His seed was copious, his release long. He tensed beneath me, his entire body rigid in his orgasm. After the last of his seed filled my mouth, I continued to lick his cock, cleaning the head, the small opening at the tip.

  Even with his seed swallowed, his taste coated my tongue. I'd taken his pleasure into me and I felt my own pleasure at that. I hadn't come like he had, but I reveled in my ability to see to his needs. My nipples were hard and I felt my arousal on my thighs. They were always damp, his seed constantly dribbling from my pussy, but this was more. This was my own arousal readying me for him.

  Before I had a chance to fix his pants, he'd lifted me up and tossed me over his shoulder. He walked inside with long strides, his pants loose about his waist.

  "Finn!" I cried out in surprise.

  He gave my bottom a little swat as he climbed the stairs two at a time, kicked our bedroom door shut behind us and tossed me onto the bed.

  "You've had your way with me." He grinned, his cock still hard and curved up and out toward me. "It's time I had my way with you. Tell me, Caro, did you like being tied up?"

  My eyes widened in surprise at his words as my pussy dripped with eagerness.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  FINN

  I could see the hint of chafing at Caroline's wrists. The sleeves of her dress came down long enough to hide it from others, Mrs. Campbell being one, but every time she lifted her coffee cup or smoothed her already perfect hair, I could see the marks.

  I'd used my belt to tie her to the headboard and take her, again and again. She'd had control of me when she'd sucked my cock on the porch, but instead of making me forget our conversation or overpowering me with her wiles, she'd only increased my need to possess. She knew the reason for the laudanum. Caroline was not a good liar. Mrs. Bidwell seemed a competent woman, although her choice in Meecham left me, and Caroline, questioning her abilities. The man had been a sick bastard and shouldn't even have had ownership of a dog, let alone a wife. His son was cut from the same cloth. There were marriageable ladies in town, but every mother within a twenty-mile radius kept their daughter well away from Junior. The fathers did, too.

  There was a mysterious reasoning behind the woman's selection and it tied in with the laudanum. But how? I'd intended to tie Caroline to the headboard and fuck the answer out of her, but once I had her there, I couldn't do it. I didn't want our fucking to be used as a weapon. It was only meant for pleasure. She'd come even as I punished her this morning. I'd given her permission to do so and that was most definitely what pushed her over the edge. All of the things I'd done to her, the rope and weights on her nipples, the spanking, the largest plug, were proof that I dominated her body. When she'd finally slumped over the rack, her submission had been obvious. She would take whatever I gave her. Even though I gave her some pain, only a hint of it to intensify the pleasure, I knew it would bring her to orgasm. Everything I did would bring her pleasure in the end.

  And so when I had her hands caught up, her body at my mercy beneath me in our bed, I could only pleasure her in the end. I'd fucked her, ate her pussy, filled her ass again with the plug. Fucked her again. All to show her that we were meant to be together, that she was the wife for me. I was her husband.

  The truth would come out, but I was a patient man.

  ***

  Sunday we rode to town for church. Mrs. Campbell, along with most of the men, had gone in before us. Although Caroline could seat her own horse, I wanted her in my lap. I was insatiable around her, always wanting to touch her, have her close. I was most definitely at the mercy of my wife. Yes, I was the one in charge and Caroline the one who submitted, but really, I was powerless to my wife.

  "Are you sure everyone will find me pleasing?" she asked as the town came into view. The church's steeple was tall and a beacon for miles around.

  Today she wore a pale blue gingham dress. I did not know there was a name for such a pattern, but Mrs. Campbell had commented on how pretty it looked on Caroline and I had to agree. It seemed soft, pale colors suited her, although to me she would have looked fine wearing a potato
sack. Or nothing at all. Now I was getting hard.

  "Why should they not?" I asked in return.

  "Mr. Meecham was unhappy with me."

  I frowned at the man's name. "He appeared quite pleased with you. He was unhappy with me for taking you from him."

  "But--"

  "Trust me, Caroline. Everyone will like you just fine."

  She did not seem to be appeased by that answer, but nothing else I could say would smooth her worried brow. Only meeting the friendly townsfolk would change her opinion. Meecham was the only one that concerned me.

  Of course, upon arrival at church, he was the one that met us. I could hear the tinny strains of the church's piano drift out along with the singing voices of the congregation. We had arrived intentionally late, forcing everyone to wait until after the service to make introductions and speak with Caroline. Unfortunately, the idea was a distinct disadvantage because the bastard had used the opportunity to catch us alone.

  He strode across the churchyard in his crisp suit and shiny shoes to watch as I helped Caroline down, then as I hitched my horse loosely to the rail. The animal immediately lowered his head and started eating the long blades of green grass.

  Meecham wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief and stuck it back in his pocket. It was exceptionally warm. Early as it was, it was going to be unseasonably hot. Caroline stepped back when he leered at her.

  "Heard you received a package in the mail," he said to Caroline. His eyes drifted lower to her breasts, modestly covered with her gingham dress, but I knew the man was envisioning her otherwise.

  "Everyone receives mail, Junior," I countered, placing my hand on Caroline's waist.

  At the use of his nickname, his cheeks reddened.

  "You better be careful, Masters," the man warned.

  I straightened my spine, gaining an extra inch or two on the man. "Or what?"

  "You never know when calves might start dying or a fence might be torn down. Beef buyers breaking their contracts."

  I narrowed my eyes at the threats, but didn't rile. He wanted me to get angry, to lash out. It would make him happy to see he'd ruffled my feathers. "If you'll excuse us, we have a service to attend."

  Junior's words were empty threats. He couldn't follow through on any of them. He had no men who would back him. Beef buyers were plentiful and if one rescinded a contract, there'd be another to take his place. Besides, I had enough money to live and maintain the ranch without selling another head of cattle ever again. I wouldn't touch Caroline's inheritance from Meecham, Sr., but Junior wasn't thinking clearly or he'd have known that money would sustain me.

  There was nothing more to say, hell, I hadn't wanted to talk to him in the first place, so we left him behind to go inside. Caroline settled beside me in the back pew, not wanting to disturb anyone at our late arrival. She was quiet with her gaze on the minister, but I knew she was not hearing a word. I had no idea as to the topic and by the way her hands fidgeted, neither did she. Meecham was a problem, but unfortunately unless I shipped him off to be a mail order groom, we were all stuck with the man. I'd never wished a man dead, but when I'd heard the news of his father's passing, I hadn't mourned. These weren't thoughts for the house of the Lord, but they could not be dissuaded. And so I turned my mind in a different direction, that of Caroline's naked body, and that was not for church either. But it cooled my anger, relaxed my posture, which in turn put Caroline slightly more at ease.

  I spent the remainder of the service picturing what I would do to her later. Perhaps we would not venture home directly, but head to a secret bend in the creek that allowed for swimming. Seeing Caroline naked and in the outdoors made Meecham slip entirely from my mind.

  CAROLINE

  Mr. Meecham knew something. I'd seen it in the gleam of his eye when he mentioned the package. Had he opened it? From the condition of the box and brown paper, it had received plenty of rough handling over the long distance from Minneapolis. The string that tied it closed seemed original. Even if he had opened it, he wouldn't truly know what the bottle of laudanum meant. Finn didn't know.

  The man's ire toward Finn seemed to be akin to hatred. He detested my husband and it seemed on a level even greater than just stealing me away. I'd only made the situation worse. He'd threatened Finn, threatened his livelihood, all to lash out at me. It wasn't fair to Finn that I was here. He was nothing but kind, generous, and voracious. Considering all the wicked things he'd done to me, I should have taken the next stage east, but he'd done it all to please me. And he had every time, and often more than once. The wicked things were intimate, carnal, secret, and we shared them together. Alone.

  So I pleased him. Although I couldn't be sure, I seemed to be fairly adept at bed sport and the man enjoyed it. I did too, in ways I'd never imagined, but was that enough to sustain a marriage? A marriage built on a huge lie? I pondered all of this as the minister spoke, while Finn sat beside me. I thought of it even after the service was over and I was introduced with almost the entire town. Names came and went and I could only smile and hold onto Finn's hand. He was my anchor in all of this, standing by my side and helping with the conversation as needed.

  By the time we were on the horse heading toward the ranch, my face hurt from smiling at so many townspeople and I longed to be alone with Finn and feel his arms around me. This was what I would miss, the feeling of safety when with him. I'd never felt safe before. I’d never known a man's touch could be gentle and caring instead of cruel. I couldn't offer Finn the same in return. My hands were like poison because I'd done a terrible deed with them. Guilt riddled me. I was only half a wife for Finn. He deserved so much more.

  I couldn't stay any longer. Finn's livelihood was at stake. Perhaps his very life was at stake. I couldn't risk that. I couldn't risk him getting hurt because of me. I'd shamed him once and that had only wrought a punishment on me. This new level of shame could ostracize him from the town, from the ranch hands, from everyone he cared about. I wasn't worth it. With a heavy heart - yes, it was my heart that hurt - I began to consider how to leave him.

  "You seem tired. Have I been keeping you from your sleep?" Finn's eyes twinkled with mirth. He'd just lowered me from the horse and held me about the waist.

  I flushed at his insinuation because it was true. I was tired and it had been his fault. He'd kept me up late into the night touching me, fucking me. He'd whispered in my ear that he couldn't get enough of me. I wholeheartedly agreed. I couldn't get enough of him either. Just him mentioning our late night activity had my body softening for him.

  But that wasn't really what he saw. He saw my worry, my resignation at what I must do. I gave a small smile and nodded. Why did he have to be so kind? It would be easy to leave him if he was a cruel man, a miserable man. He tilted his chin toward the house. "Rest. I'll take care of the horse."

  I could only nod again. As he led the horse in the direction of the stable, I studied him - his red hair that peeked out from beneath his hat. The darker stubble on his chin, coming in even though he'd just shaved this morning. His broad shoulders. His hands. Oh, the magic he could weave with those hands.

  I was in love with him. There was no denying it. Just as he'd said, sometimes it struck like a bolt of lightning. Wiping a tear that slipped down my cheek, I turned on my heel and went upstairs to plan my departure. I didn't know how I'd do it, or how I'd survive being apart from Finn, but it was for his own good.

  FINN

  Caroline was even more subdued than earlier. Something weighed heavily upon her and yet she did not share. I could only be patient and wait, hoping she'd trust me enough to help carry her burden. I didn't know how great it was until after a bout of almost frantic fucking. She'd gripped and clung to me, then taken me into her mouth, then skillfully down her throat to swallow my seed. She hadn't been done, all but begging me to fuck her. I was thrilled to see my wife as eager to share our bodies as I was, but hadn't considered the reason behind her intensity. Looking back, it was as if she were sayin
g goodbye.

  It was thunder that woke me, a loud, booming clap that had me instantly awake. I rolled over to check on Caroline, but she wasn't there. Climbing from the bed naked, I went to the window to shut it from the strong breeze that had picked up from the impending storm. The night was hot, the air heavy with the rain that was sure to come.

  "Caroline!" I called. Perhaps she was in the washroom.

  When I didn't receive a reply, I walked down the hall and found that room empty. There was no sign of her.

  "Caroline!" I called again. Nothing.

  It was then I became worried. Returning to the bedroom, I lit the bedside lamp, the room filling with a pale yellow glow, then brightened by a quick flash of lightning.

  Boom.

  The storm was close,very close. The gingham dress that she’d laid carefully over the back of the chair in the corner was gone. So were her shoes.

  She was gone. But where? Why?

  I considered this as I tugged on my pants and tied my boots. Grabbing my shirt, I slipped it on as I took the stairs two at a time and sprinted to the stable. The wind was strong, whipping my hair across my forehead. Inside, I checked the horses, one stall at a time. All were skittish from the weather. I was skittish from the disappearance of my wife.

  She hadn't been kidnapped from my bed. She'd gotten up on her own, made a choice, and left. Again, why? What was haunting her to do so? Something was most assuredly haunting her. Some inner demon was preventing her from accepting me fully, accepting her new life. Accepting me.

  What from her past drove her to do something as insane as leaving in a storm?

  Mabel, the horse she'd ridden the day before was gone. Mabel was a gentle mare, docile and a perfect size for Caroline. As I saddled my horse, I considered her destination. There was nothing for miles around but the town of Apex. From there, she could take the stage either east or west, the only transportation away from here besides Mabel. Her options were limited. For once, the desolation of the Montana Territory could work in my favor.