Naughty Marietta
Page 25
She liked his answer. She smiled and touched his tanned jaw. “You will see me in it this very afternoon, my love. Give me a few minutes?”
“As long as you want, sweetheart,” he said. “I’ll be out on the observation platform smoking a cigar.”
“Fifteen minutes is plenty of time,” she said and raising up on tiptoe, brushed a kiss to his lips.
“I’ll count the seconds,” he said, turned and went out the door.
Alone in the compartment, Marietta carefully placed the beautiful blue nightgown on the bed, then hastily lowered the window shade against the blazing Texas sun. She kicked off her kid slippers and began unbuttoning the bodice of her gingham dress.
In minutes she was naked.
She turned and stepped in front of the closed door, on the back of which hung a full-length mirror. She frowned. She didn’t like the way she looked. She unpinned her hair, which she had haphazardly wound into a knot atop her head before they’d gotten off the train in Abilene. She shook her head about, picked up the hairbrush and began to vigorously stroke through the long, tangled locks. She laid the brush aside, pinched her cheeks and bit her lips to give her face some color.
She turned and picked up the nightgown. She lifted it over her head, stretching her arms up, one at a time. When the lace straps lay softly atop her shoulders, she released the gown. It slithered down her bare body to the floor.
Again she turned to the full-length mirror. She blushed. The gown’s low-cut bodice was lace all the way to the waist. The pale rose-hued nipples of her full breasts showed through as if the lace were transparent.
The gown’s slinky satin skirt was cut on the bias, accentuating the feminine curve of her hips and delineation of her flat belly. The fit of the garment was so snug, the small indentation of her navel was well defined, as was the triangle of springy curls between her thighs.
Marietta shuddered.
She felt hot and cold at the same time, and oddly embarrassed, although she didn’t see how she could be. It wasn’t as though Cole hadn’t seen her naked. He had. Yet somehow this was different. Now she was his wife. Now they were newlyweds and she desperately wanted to please him. To have him find her pretty. Desirable. Irresistible.
A soft knock on the door caused her to jump. She stepped back away from the mirrored door. Her heart began to pound. Her breasts rose and fell, pressing against the diaphanous lace. She had the foolish urge to throw her arms across her chest and hide herself. She didn’t immediately answer Cole’s knock.
“Marietta?” came his distinctive drawl, soft, but clearly audible. “Sweetheart, may I come in?”
Marietta took a quick breath and managed only a hesitant, “Y-yes.”
The door opened only enough for Cole to slip inside. He closed it quickly behind him and threw the lock. He turned and looked at his bride in the revealing nightgown and lost his breath. For a long moment, he leaned back against the mirrored door and gazed at the flame-haired vision in blue satin and lace.
“You are,” he said when he trusted his voice to speak, “the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I can’t believe that you are mine. That you are my wife. Surely you aren’t real. You’re so incredibly divine, you must be an angel.”
Marietta smiled seductively and said, “Nothing could be further from the truth, as you well know.” Certain now of how much she pleased him, Marietta relaxed completely and was once again her sassy self. Swaying provocatively to him, she slid her arms up around his neck. Thrusting her satin-clad pelvis against his, she said, “I’m no angel, Texan, and I plan on spending the afternoon showing you just that.”
“Ah, baby, that’s what I wanted to hear,” he said and kissed her.
Her eyes closing, Marietta’s lips parted beneath his and she felt his sleek tongue slide between them. They kissed hotly and when at last their lips separated, Marietta said, looking directly into his eyes, “I’ve heard it said that all men want to be a woman’s first lover, while all women wish to be a man’s last. You were my first, Cole. Let me be your last.”
“You will, sweetheart,” he promised. “I’ll be forever faithful to you.”
“And I to you,” she said, eagerly wrapping her arms around his trim waist.
They kissed again and kept on kissing for several minutes, each kiss growing hotter, probing deeper, lasting longer. When finally Marietta tore her lips from his, Cole gently turned her in his arms so that she was facing away from him.
Marietta sighed and leaned back against him, her head falling onto his left shoulder. Cole pressed his smooth cheek against hers and slid his arms around her.
“We have a bed now, Cole,” she softly reminded him.
“I know, but let’s stay like this for just a moment,” he said as he lifted a hand to her lace-covered breasts.
“You’ll get no arguments from me on our wedding day,” she said as her eyes slipped half-closed.
“I would like,” he told her, his voice low, his drawl pronounced, “you to leave the nightgown on. Just for a while.” Through the covering lace, the tip of his index finger was making tantalizing circles around her rigid left nipple.
“Whatever you want,” she said on a sigh. “I told you you’ll get no arguments from me today.” She laughed softly, and added, “Or tonight.”
Cole brushed a kiss to her cheek, gently plucked at her nipple through the gauzy lace and felt her squirm against him. He moved to the other nipple, but never slipped his hand inside the gown’s bodice. Her covered nipples stood out in twin points of sensation, the lace mildly abrasive, Cole’s fingers gentle.
She could already feel the sexual heat languidly spreading throughout her body. That heat quickly flared into blazing passion when one of Cole’s hands swept down over her satin-covered belly to her groin. Gently, he cupped her and she shivered.
Against her temple Cole whispered, “Sweetheart, move your legs apart just a little.”
Marietta didn’t question him. She moved her bare feet slightly apart, then exhaled anxiously when she felt his hand go between. Once again using only his long index finger, Cole purposely pressed the gown’s slick satin into the delicate cleft of her soft female body. Carefully, he slid his finger up and down repeatedly, gently parting the springy red-gold curls pressing against the satin. He continued until the slick satin was molded against her, the feather-soft fabric sticking to her.
Through the sensuously slippery barrier, he began to caress that tiny button of highly sensitive feminine flesh. Marietta drew in a shallow breath and began to murmur her approval. Her eyes closing, she turned her face inward, her body tingling, her breath coming in short, anxious gasps.
It was, she thought, incredibly thrilling to be standing on a moving train in the middle of the day in a slinky lace and satin nightgown while the handsome man of her dreams, the man who was now her husband, showed her a new method of making love.
“Cole, I’m on fire,” she whispered as an incredible heat radiated upward from that burning spot where he was caressing her. “I’m hot all over.”
“I know, baby,” he said, continuing to gently circle and caress her until the shiny satin barrier between his fingers and her flesh was wet with her body’s physical response to unchecked sexual desire.
Marietta found it wildly exciting. The wet satin, the tantalizing fingers, the taboo aspect of it added to the awesome pleasure. She loved the feel of Cole’s fingers touching her through the damp satin, loved the idea of climaxing like this. Thrusting her pelvis forward, her arm bent and raised up around Cole’s neck, she heard the train’s whistle blow loudly. That, too, added to her rising ecstasy. The mighty locomotive letting off steam matched her body’s growing need for a blaring release of its own.
“Ooooh, Cole,” she said, her eyes growing wide, her heated body beginning to spasm against Cole’s loving hand as her climax began.
Knowing just how to handle her, Cole held her firmly with one strong arm wrapped around her waist as his dexterous fingers stayed between h
er legs and continued to carefully coax the climax from her.
When it came, Marietta screamed loudly in her ecstasy, but the sound was drowned out by the shrill blowing of the train whistle. The lengthy scream and the blasting whistle peaked simultaneously. The train raced swiftly on while Marietta sagged weakly back against her smiling husband.
When she regained her lost breath, a sighing, sated Marietta turned in Cole’s arms and said, “I’ve ruined my beautiful nightgown.”
“Who cares?” Cole said with an impish laugh. “Tell the truth, darlin’. Wasn’t it worth it?”
“It was, you wicked devil,” she said with a happy smile.
With his help, she peeled the gown up and over her head. Cole tossed it aside, drew her into his arms and said, “Besides, I like you naked even better.”
“Mmm,” she replied, and began unbuttoning his shirt. “It’s high time you get naked with me.”
“Sounds good to me,” Cole said and they laughed as together they stripped him of his clothes.
When he was as bare as she, Marietta swept a hand over his broad chest and said, “Remember your fantasy, Cole?” She moved her head, swirled her long loose hair around her shoulders. “Get ready to live it.” She began to push him toward the bed.
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to…”
“I want to,” she said. “Now lie down, darling.”
Cole stretched out on his stomach, placing a folded arm beneath his cheek. His head turned to the side, he watched expectantly as Marietta sat down on the edge of the bed. He tensed as she lifted her hands and combed her fingers through the heavy tresses.
He watched as she scooted up higher on the bed and abruptly flipped all that wild red hair over her head. She then bent to him, her hair making a silky curtain of reddish-gold across his face. He inhaled deeply of its clean scent and kissed a silky strand as it fell against his nose and mouth.
Too soon the mass of glorious hair was taken away. Cole groaned when he felt it fall onto his bare shoulders, tickling him, exciting him. For the next ten minutes his playful bride teased and tormented him with her abundant red tresses. The feel of all that glorious hair falling onto his bare flesh was intensely pleasurable and arousing to Cole.
Enjoying every second of his fantasy, he stood it as long as he could while Marietta languidly moved down his long, lean body, her hair brushing lightly over his back, his waist, his flexed buttocks, his long legs. When she reached his feet, then started back up, Cole swiftly turned over. Lifting his head off the pillow, he watched with growing excitement as Marietta, head still bent, hair still spilling down, worked her way back up his tense body.
When she reached his groin, she purposely paused, knowing what would happen.
It did.
Cole’s aching erection surged up against, and then through, the cloud of hair lying over his pelvis.
“That’s enough,” he choked. Marietta smiled and finally raised her head. “Come here to me, you beautiful witch,” he said and pulled her into his arms.
He kissed her, turned her over onto her back and took her with no further preamble. She was, to his delight, as ready as he. While the train clickityclacked steadily down the tracks, the naked newlyweds made love in a clean white bed for the very first time.
It was, they decided, most enjoyable.
The afternoon loving was only the beginning of a long, lovely honeymoon. As the summer sun set outside the closed window shades, the lovers were once again surrendering to their blazing passion. Vowing they would stay naked all the way to Galveston, they finally, around 9:00 p.m., got so weak from hunger they had put on clothes.
But as soon as they’d finished their meal, they left the empty dining car, rushed back to their compartment and raced each other to see who could get naked first.
Cole won.
But not by much.
When Marietta stretched out beside him, she kissed his chest and said, “While I have learned that a woman can make love anytime at all, I was wondering…can a man?”
“Sweetheart, the only man you’ll ever need to worry about is me,” Cole told her, “and the answer to that is, it’s entirely up to you.”
Marietta raised up, looked at him. “Me?”
“Yes you. It depends on whether you are woman enough to arouse me. You want it up, you have to get it up.”
“Is that all?” she said flippantly. “Tell you what, Texan, if I can’t get it up in five minutes flat, feel free to divorce me.”
Both laughed as Marietta happily went to work on him.
Thirty-Nine
“Maxwell, won’t you please let Nelson help you get out of bed?” urged Nettie.
Maxwell Lacey didn’t bother turning his head on the pillow. The weak man had not left his bed for the past five days. He was sicker than ever. And he had all but lost hope that he would ever see his granddaughter. He had faced the sad fact that she was not coming.
“Who knows,” Nettie continued, making her voice sound cheerful, “today might well be the day that Marietta arrives.”
No answer. No movement on the bed. Nettie glanced at the nurse. The nurse shook her head. The message was clear. Maxwell Lacey’s days left on this earth were few in number. The sick old man would not live out the week.
“All right, lazybones,” said Nettie, her tone remaining bright, “why don’t you take a nice restful nap and then this afternoon you can sit out on the veranda for a while. How does that sound?”
Finally, a muffled response from the bed. Nettie hurried forward. “What? I didn’t quite hear you, Maxwell. What did you say?”
At last the gray head slowly turned on the pillow and a pitiful Maxwell looked up at Nettie. Tears were swimming in his eyes and his sunken cheeks were ghostly pale.
“It’s no use, Nettie,” he said, barely above a whisper. “She isn’t coming. She will never come home.”
“Such nonsense,” Nettie scolded, shaking her head. “Why, this isn’t like you, Maxwell Lacey. You’ve never been a quitter. Don’t give up now.”
“I’m awfully tired,” he said in apology.
“I know you are,” Nettie said softly and, stepping closer, reached out and smoothed back a lock of thinning hair from his damp forehead. “You rest now and perhaps later today you’ll feel better.” She smiled at him, took one of his frail hands in both of her own and asked, “Shall I sit here with you a while?”
“Cole, I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be,” he said, his tone low, level. “I’m here with you, I’ll never leave you.”
“I know, still…do we have to…to…?”
“We do, darlin’. But we don’t have to stay,” he soothed. “We’ll put in an appearance, that’s all. Just stay long enough so your grandfather knows I kept my word.”
The pair had finally arrived in Galveston. It was midafternoon as they rode in a hired carriage toward the home of Maxwell Lacey. When they neared the Gulf shores, the coach turned into a long, pebbled driveway. Lips parted, Marietta stared at the gleaming two-story mansion rising to meet the sun at the end of the palm-bordered avenue.
Her jaw tightening, she said, “Why, he’s filthy rich, isn’t he?”
“He is,” Cole confirmed. “He certainly is.”
Marietta made a sour face. “Well, perhaps he can take it with him. I’m sure he’ll try.”
The carriage rolled to a stop. Cole opened the door and stepped out. He reached for Marietta. She reluctantly allowed him to help her down.
As soon as her feet touched the ground, she turned and said to the carriage driver, “Don’t leave. Wait right here for us. We’ll only be inside a few minutes.”
As Cole took her arm, Marietta drew in a slow, deep breath. Together they went up the front walk and climbed the mansion steps.
On the wide veranda, Cole turned her to face him and said, “I love you, Marietta. I’m on your side and I understand how you feel. Remember that.” She nodded, but gave no reply. “Ready?” he asked.
“Yes,”
she said. “Let’s get this over with.”
The heavy wooden front door was open. A screen door was closed. Cole raised the brass door knocker beside it and gave it a forceful thump. A uniformed butler immediately appeared in the portal.
Through the screen, Cole said, “I’m Cole Heflin and this is—”
“Who is it, Nelson?” Nettie stepped up beside him. The minute she saw the handsome couple standing on the veranda, she stepped past Nelson, threw the screen open wide and exclaimed, “You must be Marietta!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Marietta replied. “And this is—”
“Cole Heflin,” Nettie interrupted. “I’ve heard so much about both of you. Come in, come in.”
Cole handed Marietta inside and followed. In the cool, high-ceilinged foyer, a beaming Nettie said to Marietta, “Thank heavens you’ve come. And just in time! Your grandfather has been steadfastly clinging to life in the hope that he would get to see you.”
Marietta was not swayed. “Yes, well, he’ll see me, but only briefly,” she said in clipped tones. “I’ve no intention of spending any time with him.”
Nettie nodded. “A mere glimpse of you will mean the world to Maxwell.”
“Fine,” Marietta replied, vowing she would remain as hard-hearted as her grandfather had been. “Where is he?”
“Follow me,” said Nettie and led the way. Marietta and Cole followed her down a long, wide corridor. When she stopped before a closed door at the rear of the house, she said, “This is Maxwell’s room. He’s bedfast, hasn’t been up in days. When you go inside, just nod to the nurse and she will leave.”
“No need for her to leave,” said Marietta. “I told you, we’re not staying.”
When she reached out to open the door, Cole said, “I’ll be right here, sweetheart, just outside the door.”
Her eyebrows knit. “You aren’t coming in with me?”
“No. It is you he wishes to see.”
Marietta didn’t argue. She straightened her back and, her heart in her throat, entered the sickroom. She did not nod to the nurse. She didn’t have to. On seeing her, the woman rose, opened the heavy drapes to let in some afternoon sunshine, then silently left the room, closing the door behind her.