by Lee Savino
She was wet and sore, but satisfied.
“You did not find release.”
“It’s all right,” she assured him. He’d given her enough release.
“It will not happen again,” he vowed. He flopped to his side beside her, and then lifted his head with a frown. “Phoebe, why are you crying?”
The tears tracked down her cheeks; she couldn’t stop them. “You love me?”
“Oh, lass,” he crooned, touching her face with loving fingers. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked to marry you.”
“But, I thought…” Why would he want her?
“I knew from the moment I saw you it would be hard to keep from falling in love. Then you gave me a taste of your stubborn will, and I knew you would be mine.”
“You did?”
“I did. But you were a skittish wee bird, living in the thorns, and I had to go slowly.” He stroked her hair. “I know you’ve been hurt before.”
She decided to tell him the truth. “I never wanted a man to touch me. There were men, at the hotel, who tried to, and one of them…”
She broke off, not wanting to spell out the details of that horrible few minutes. Calum held her close until she could speak again. “It’s just so much better with you.”
“It will always be me, and no other. I’ll protect you, I swear.” She’d never seen him so fierce.
She nodded, and his expression turned tender. “Oh Phoebe, you break my heart.”
I’m happy,” she sniffled, and laughed at how pathetic she sounded. “I really am.”
“Good. I’ll see to it you stay that way. I swear it.”
If it weren’t for chores, Phoebe would’ve been afraid Calum would keep her in bed forever. But they had work to do. In the past week, they’d stripped the garden bare but for a few late season crops, filled the larder and stocked the woodpile. There was a chill in the air that heralded a long, hard winter, but, together, they’d be ready.
Their first full morning as man and wife, after a breakfast where he’d feasted on her once he was done eating proper food, Calum disappeared with Wolfie to check his traps.
He was a good man, Phoebe thought as she did the laundry. Her thoughts were still in a whirlwind after their sudden marriage. She still wasn’t sure what the likes of him was doing with the likes of her, but that cheerful, sunny morning, pulling the fur robes off their well-used bed and hanging them on the line to air, she was too happy to question it.
Like the bird that was her namesake, Phoebe sang through her chore, the tune just bubbling out of her. By the time she had all the clothes on the line, tossing in the stiff wind, her husband came striding out of the woods, a giant grin on his face. As soon as he set aside his catch, he pulled her into his arms.
“My wee Phoebe bird.” His lips drank of her.
“Mac!” A man’s voice called. Phoebe shrank behind the laundry, but Calum sauntered to greet the couple who rode up on horseback. The tall, dark-haired man she recognized from her trips to town, and the woman was blonde, with long blonde braids sticking out from under her bonnet. They dismounted and approached with huge smiles.
“Heard you’re now married.” The man slapped Calum’s back.
“I am.” Calum beckoned to Phoebe. “And here is my lovely bride.” Spreading her skirts subtly so they hid her limp, Phoebe went right to her new husband’s side and let him tuck her under his muscled arm. “Phoebe, this is Susannah and Jesse Wilder.”
“Thought we’d drop by and give you a wedding present. I wanted to wait, but Susannah insisted.”
The blonde handed Phoebe a package, and after a moment of hesitation, Phoebe opened it and drew out the spools of thread in a rainbow of colors.
“I would’ve made something, but Mrs. Martin says you’re a deft hand with the needle, so I figured I’d leave it to you. My stitches always need taking out. Jesse says I may as well stick to shooting.”
“We could’ve hunted some game for a wedding gift. Susannah’s getting to be a crack shot. But you have that well in hand.” Jesse waved to Calum’s kills hanging on the porch rail. “So then I told Susannah you didn’t need anything but time with your bride, but like I said, my wife insisted. I must say, I’m surprised to see you two upright and decent for company.” He winked.
“Jesse.” Susannah whacked him with her gloves.
“Begging your pardon, Mrs. MacDonnell.” Jesse grinned at Phoebe, not sorry at all.
“Excuse my husband. He’s an ass,” Susannah said, and Jesse’s grin widened.
Phoebe’s heart sank, studying the beautiful couple. This was how a marriage was supposed to look: a lovely woman and handsome man, happy together. Not a handsome, rugged Scot and…well, her.
“We won’t stay.” Susannah still glared at her husband. “But let us know if there’s anything you need.”
“You might expect a few more visitors, or an invitation or two. I’ve heard Esther and Mrs. Martin talking of throwing the two of you a proper party,” Jesse added.
Phoebe stiffened. A constant stream of guests was frightening enough; but a party with all the townspeople would be worse. If people saw her with Calum, they’d all scrutinize her skinny frame and limp and wonder why Calum had married the likes of her. Better to stay at the lodge where at least she could hide away.
As if he felt her tension, Calum’s arm squeezed her tighter while he told the Wilders he’d talk to Esther and Mrs. Martin directly. “Oh, and Miles said to give you this.” Jesse handed over a small parcel, Calum opened and snorted.
“I can’t accept this.”
“He said you’d say that. But I have orders not to take it back.” Jesse held up his hands until Calum shrugged, and then tipped his hat to Phoebe. “A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. MacDonnell.”
“What did he give you?” Phoebe asked when they waved the visiting couple goodbye.
“It’s the money I gave him for the mule.” Calum tsked. “He’s a generous man, Donovan.”
“I don’t know if I want a big party,” Phoebe said.
“May as well accept it, lass. Out here, people will take any excuse to get together. Besides, it’ll be nice to show you off.” He hugged her. “I have the prettiest wife this side of the Rockies.”
Tipping her chin, he kissed her.
“I’m not—” she said as soon as he took his mouth away, but he kissed her again.
“Don’t argue. Or I’ll turn you over my knee.”
“But it’s not true.”
He stared at her a beat. “Then I’ll just have to work harder for you to believe it.”
“How are you going to do that?” She rolled her eyes.
“Well, for one, I’m going to do your bath, get you all pink and clean and ready for me. Then I’m going to spread you out and tell you you’re beautiful, and lick you until you sing out my name. How does that sound?”
She shivered, pressing her legs together and he laughed.
True to his word, Calum spent the rest of the afternoon helping her with laundry and then readying her bath. He washed out the cauldron and filled it with water to heat, and Phoebe felt some trepidation at being naked in front of her new husband. Would he be disgusted by her foot? He’d seen her naked before, in the dim bedroom, and he’d slid a sock onto her foot. But maybe he’d see it again, and change his mind about marrying her.
Dinner was a quiet affair. His foot kept bumping hers. After the tenth time, she was sure it wasn’t an accident. She met his eyes and blushed at the heat there.
All day long he’d touched her—a quick squeeze of her hips while helping her fold laundry, a stolen kiss between the hanging sheets.
All too soon he was jumping up out of his chair and going to fill the bath with the last of the hot and steaming water.
“Bath time for wee Phoebes.” He scooped her right up out of her chair and set her on her feet near the bath. He bent and kissed her, leaving her breathless and shaken. He’d drawn a bath for her before, but this wasn’t going to be like those
times.
Her eyes pleaded with him to be gentle and his fingers moved quickly with excitement, starting to unbutton her dress.
She started to help him by untying her apron and he caught her wrists.
“Let me.” He finished unbuttoning her dress, peeled it off. Soon she stood only in corset and drawers, arms around herself loosely to hide her figure as he knelt at her feet to take off her socks. Even though she’d spent a luxurious day and night in his bed, she wasn’t comfortable with him seeing her bare form, especially not her cursed limb. When Calum reached her feet, she closed her eyes and waited but there was no hiss of horror or sound of displeasure at the sight of her foot.
Shocked, she missed his stripping the rest of her clothes from her.
Again, he picked her up.
“I can walk, you know. I’m not a baby.”
“You are tonight. You’re my wee bairn. My little Phoebekins.”
She giggled.
“I’m going to get you nice and clean. And then I’m going to reward you for being so good. Would you like me to do that?”
“Yes, please.”
She sat quiet, lulled as he washed her all over, having her dip in the tub.
He stripped off his shirt to keep it from getting wet and she wanted to run her hands over him. He wore trousers and nothing else, his longish blond hair hanging in damp clumps. His skin was pale a little freckled smelled like clean water and pine, the outdoors he loved so much.
His big hands were gentle as they soaped up her skin, sliding over her shoulders and down her back, washing each part of her thoroughly. Paying particular attention to her breasts. She smiled at him.
“There’s my sweet Phoebe.” He kissed her.
“Now lie back and let me wash your legs.” He skipped the center part of her and she felt a little bereft, then stiffened as he scrubbed down her legs, getting closer to her feet. She kept her right foot in the tub to hide it under the suds. Calum picked up her left foot and cleaned it, then rinsed it and kissed her sole.
“That tickles.”
“Good.”
He reached for her right foot and she stiffened and drew back. “You don’t have to do that one. Let me clean it please.”
“Phoebe,” he said softly. “Please. I want to wash you. All of you.” He reached for her, even as her body angled away from him, and drew out her foot. She couldn’t resist his pleading and the inexorable pull of his strong hands. She did tense as he lifted the foot. He washed it even more carefully than the first.
“Can you tell me why you’re upset?” he asked in a neutral tone.
“It’s ugly.”
“No part of you is ugly,” he said firmly. “It’s not so bad. Just needs a little love.”
Once each toe was clean and rinsed, he rinsed and kissed the sole. To her relief he let it go back in the water.
She relaxed again as he started washing up her legs with long strokes of the sudsy cloth.
“Does it hurt?”
“Only sometimes when I walk too much, it cramps up. My leg and hips mostly.”
He nodded and said no more about it. He washed the rest of her body thoroughly, even bidding her stand up so he could scrub her backside. He worked the washcloth between her bum cheeks, his finger poking it into her bottom hole. Her face reddened at the intimate touch, but she submitted quietly.
By the time he was done, every part of her was clean and scrubbed, from her toes to her ears, and she was ready for him to pick her up, carry her to bed, and use his body to sate her.
Her husband’s skin was damp from leaning over the steaming tub. The little water droplets rolling down his broad chest mesmerized her as he cleaned her hair and wrapped it in a small cloth.
Her whole body was warm and supple when he picked her up out of the tub. With his big body looming over hers, she felt small and safe, like a child being cared for by a gentle papa.
Calum dried her and set her on a blanket he’d spread on the table.
“Wait here.”
He set a small bowl of hot water and the soap on the edge of the table, along with a cloth and some other tools, and helped her lie back.
She shivered, wondering what he was about.
“Are you cold?”
She shook her head. “What are you doing?”
“Relax. I’m gonna shave you.”
“Shave me?” She lifted off the table to stare at the implements he’d lined up: a sharp, shining razor, freshly honed on a leather strop.
He hushed her. “No need to fear. I’ll be gentle. I’m going to lather you up and remove all the hair from your sweet cunny.”
Her legs snapped together.
His hands eased up her legs, massaging the outsides as his thumbs slid up the seam. “Easy, wee one. I won’t hurt you, I promise.”
“But why?”
“Do you like my tongue on you?” he continued in a low, soothing tone of voice.
“Yes.”
“When you’re shaved, it will allow me to taste every part of you. You’ll be all smooth.” His hand cupped her breast, thumb sliding over the soft skin there. “Like this. You’ll feel everything I give you.”
She relaxed into his big hand. His touch felt good, too good. He took his hand away and she arched forward to follow it, her eyes glazed.
Chuckling, he eased her back onto the table again and started to lather the soap.
“Come on now, spread your legs.”
“If I say no, will you strap me?” She motioned to the razor strop, a long, mean looking strip of leather.
“No, sweet one.” He shook his head, clucking as if shocked that she’d had such an idea. “I’ll not leather you unless you put your life at risk and even then I prefer a tawse.” He pointed to a black length of leather with a forked end. To Phoebe, it looked just as wicked as a strop. “No, if you protest, I’ll just refuse to give you pleasure.”
“But I thought you liked to lick me,” she pouted.
“Oh yes, I do, but I won’t let you cum. I’ll bring you to the brink and leave you hanging, though you’ll beg me.”
“That’s not fair.”
With a grin, he eased her legs apart.
Phoebe squirmed her bottom a little, realizing how ready she already was for him. She hoped he wouldn’t notice but he chuckled and his finger traced her lower lips.
“You’re already bothered. You want my mouth on you?”
“Yes,” she breathed. She relaxed her legs and inched her feet wider, hoping he’d continue.
“Spread your legs nice and wide. Relax and breathe, and let me take care of you.”
In no time, he’d lathered her up and shaved her while she focused on just trying to breathe. The razor made quick work of the hair, and she sucked in a breath every time Calum paused to run a thumb over the newly bare skin. He had a huge smile on his face when he wiped her clean.
“Now that’s a pretty sight.”
Her cheeks heated at how he stood and stared down at her pussy, and her legs started to drift closed.
“No, no,” he tutted, pulling them open again. “I want to look at you. You’re a lovely, lovely lass.” His fingers brushed her smooth skin. It felt strange to have air wafting down there, but the reverent look on Calum’s face excited her. “You were such a good girl for me. Time for your reward.” He knelt and spent some minutes playing with her, outlining her lower lips with a feather light touch, getting close enough to inspect his work and blow his hot breath on the area. By the time his hot mouth descended, she was so ready. His tongue lapped at her little pleasure button, continuously teasing. She sighed
“Isn’t that nice, Phoebe?” He treated her to a long, long lick from stem to stern and she let out a moan.
“You’re all soft and smooth. You can feel every bit of pleasure.” She smiled at him as his face disappeared between her legs once more. With a hungry growl, his hands cupped her bottom and lifted her right into his mouth, and he feasted on her.
Her moans echoed off t
he walls and her lower half shook as her climax washed over her.
Calum looked at her with a satisfied smile, setting her bottom back down. His hands kneaded her and then he slid a finger on her back hole.
Still recovering from the powerful orgasm, Phoebe tensed, but she was too aroused to say no. With a wicked grin, Calum probed her bottom hole, pushing his finger in and out a few times before removing it, and bending his head to start licking her all over again.
“Oh, no Calum, please.”
“Hush, sweet Phoebe. You take all I give you and more.”
Sighing she lay her head back. Tonight, his tongue was voracious; it ruled her world. She climaxed again and again on the table, and later in the bedroom, when he lay on his back and had her straddle his face. She rode him, nipples pointed and body shaking until she fell off. Lights seemed to flash behind her eyes and the whole world shook.
He lay her down on the silky furs and took his pleasure, his large cock sending her into another round of bliss.
He came soon after. She noticed again that he had his finger in her bottom hole again; she’d squeezed around it right before she climaxed the final time.
His mouth nuzzled her ear as they lay recovering. “Do you like your smooth cunny? Every time I bathe you, I’m going to shave it and lick you after. What do you say to that?”
“I might not survive.”
He chuckled, and rolled her to her side to wrap his arms and legs around her so she dwelt in a Calum cocoon.
“Calum.”
“Yes, lass?”
“You put a finger in my bum, um, when you were inside me.”
“Yes, I did. Did you like it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Sweet lass, you don’t have to know. I’ll do it again, and you can see if you like it.”
“But,” she squirmed, “it’s dirty.”
“Not after I give you a bath. Then you’re all clean.”
“But—”
“Hush, wee one. Whenever I touch you, I’ll make it feel good. I’ll take care of you.”
She relaxed. “Yes, Calum.”
“Good lass.”
