by Lily Reynard
Encouraged, he licked her throat, raising pleasant shivers, then worked his way down to the hollow of her throat, unbuttoning the high collar of her shirtwaist and covering her sensitive skin with soft kisses, tender nibbles, and the teasing scrape of his beard stubble.
Her fingers clutched at the back of his neck as he opened a few more buttons, baring her collarbones. His mouth traveled to the top of her corset, his warm breath tickling the tops of her breasts.
"Walt, we have to stop now," she panted.
Walt groaned and buried his face in the space between her throat and her bosom, inhaling deeply, as if memorizing her scent.
"How far did you let Larkin go?" he demanded hoarsely.
Sarah bit her lip. "I'm still a—a virgin, if that's what you're asking," she said, blushing hotly.
She had never spoken so frankly in her entire life.
Then again, she'd never allowed a man—far less two men—to take such liberties with her person. Though she had found those liberties to be thoroughly enjoyable.
After letting him kiss her and unbutton her garments, she wondered whether Walt would respect her request to halt now. With her future still uncertain, she couldn't afford to risk getting with child. And despite his reaction to the news that Larkin had kissed her, she still worried what he might think if she asked him for more—or offered to touch him in the way that Larkin had taught her.
Walt and Larkin were so different in character and attitude, but they complemented each other like two parts of a whole. Together, they seemed perfect. She was drawn to Walt's gentle warmth and slow sensuality and to Larkin's wildness and passionate nature.
To her relief—and sneaking frustration—Walt immediately rolled away from her.
Her body throbbed with frustrated desire, and her fingers shook as she began to button up her shirtwaist. Waiting until her wedding night to satisfy the desires that both men had roused in her was going to be much more difficult than she had anticipated.
And will I be marrying one man, or two?
* * *
Walt couldn't believe that he'd gotten so close to claiming her just now. Her soft lips…the velvety skin of her throat…the way she panted and blushed at his kisses…she was sweeter and hotter than he could have ever imagined.
Thank goodness that Lark seems to be softening towards her, thought Walt as he helped Sarah fold up the Indian blanket and pack away the remnants of their picnic lunch. Because there's no way that I'm letting her leave, not when she's pure perfection. Any woman who can cook and kiss like that is a treasure greater than rubies.
The ride back home proved to be pure torture.
Sitting double on Toledo, with her soft, rounded bottom pressed firmly against his aching cock felt like heaven and hell too. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so painfully hard. After all the kissing and touching they'd done up on the hill, he needed her in a way he’d never needed any of the soiled doves in town.
He pulled Toledo up in front of the stables and dismounted first. Then he held out his arms and caught her as she gingerly swung her leg around and slid down from the saddle in a confusion of skirts and petticoats. Walt couldn't resist the temptation of pulling her against him and embracing her.
To his pleasure, she put her arms around his middle and returned his embrace, gazing up to smile at him. Her blue-green eyes glowed against her pale skin, set off by her dark brown hair.
"You know, practical joke or not, I miss the purple," he told her, then bent his head to kiss her.
He had intended a quick brush of lips, but then her arms tightened around him, and she returned the kiss with enthusiasm. Which didn't help his poor, aching cock any, but Walt didn't care. Standing here with a beautiful woman in my arms—what could be better?
Sleeping upstairs in that big bed with her, replied the part of him that liked whiskey and fallen women.
This would be the perfect time to ask her, too.
But when they finally ended their kiss and drew apart sometime later, he blurted, "I'd better unsaddle my horse and give him a nice rubdown." And immediately cursed himself for not asking for what he really wanted.
Strike while the iron is hot, had been one of Dad's favorite sayings.
Sarah nodded, her cheeks a pretty shade of pink. "I'll get supper started, then milk Rosa." She paused, and her blush deepened. "Larkin said he really liked biscuits with meals. Do you?"
"I do." Walt's mouth watered at the thought of flaky, fluffy perfection, dripping with melted butter.
He hadn't had a good baking powder biscuit since Mom died—Mrs. O'Sullivan at the Hotel Bede was a fine cook, but she never had biscuits on the menu, just soda bread or regular yeast loaves.
They passed the remainder of the afternoon with work.
Walt took up the fence-building project that Lark had left half-finished, and Sarah divided her time between working in the house and the kitchen garden, where she weeded the rows of sprouting vegetables and harvested early strawberries, red stalks of rhubarb, and herbs.
Eventually, they sat down to a delicious dinner of potato and ham chowder made with heavy cream and flavored with bacon and pepper, served with the promised biscuits.
They were every bit as light and flaky as Walt had hoped, and he ate nearly the entire batch, much to Sarah's amusement.
For dessert, she had baked shortcake, a sweet version of the biscuits, and served them topped with fresh sliced strawberries and sweetened whipped cream.
"I'm in heaven," Walt said sincerely after chewing and swallowing the first sweet mouthful. "Please don't ever leave me, Sarah."
She smiled radiantly at his words. Then her face fell, and he saw her fingers knot themselves into the cloth napkin spread over her lap.
"I do like it here, very much," she said quietly. "But my presence has already made trouble between you and your friend."
"We'll work it out," he said stoutly. "As long as you want to stay."
"I do," she said, but her expression was still troubled.
He helped her wash up after supper, then they spent a couple of hours in the living room, with Sarah knitting a baby blanket for Emmaline Kottinger while Walt read aloud to her from Robinson Crusoe.
He admired her profile as she bent over her knitting needles, and thought, This is what I want. I want to be with her, every day and every night.
Caught up in a punishing, unending routine of work on the ranch and at the mine, Walt had almost forgotten what it was like to enjoy a relaxed evening like this.
When his parents had still been alive, they’d spent almost every evening this way, with his mother doing needlework or reading aloud to them, while his father mended harness or worked on the ranch's accounting or breeding records, and Walt and Lark played with toys or, in later years, challenged each other to card games.
As the hour grew late, with just the faintest hint of twilight lingering over the crest of the distant snowcapped peaks, Sarah yawned and carefully put aside her ball of yarn and knitting needles. "I'm quite tired, and I think it's time to turn in."
Do it. Ask her, Walt urged himself. But he felt just as tongue-tied now as he had earlier, when they'd been kissing in front of the barn.
Sarah rose from her seat on the sofa, and Walt thought she looked a tad nervous. Maybe it's good that I didn't say anything.
"Ah…" she began, looking adorably shy. "Where will you be sleeping tonight?"
Walt's heart almost stopped at her question. Could she really be asking what I think she's asking?
Hope and desire crashed through him in equal portions, making his pulse race and his stomach muscles tighten.
Cautiously, he replied, "Well, now, I reckon that's up to you, Sarah."
Her head came up like that of a startled deer.
Dammit. Did I take the wrong meaning?
Hoping to heck he wasn't going to scare her off, he continued, "I was hoping to maybe share that nice big bed upstairs, but I'll sleep in my old room down here, if that's what you wa
nt."
"I…" She caught her lower lip between her teeth and frowned, as if considering her words. Walt held his breath. Then, breathlessly, she said, "Larkin slept upstairs. With me. So, I think it's only fair…I mean, if you don't mind…we can't do anything, um, I mean, we can't go too far."
"Just kissing and a bit of petting," he assured her, elation running through his veins like the champagne served at Texas Mattie's parlor house.
He'd never been the jealous type, but for a little while this afternoon, despite her response to his kisses, he'd wondered if maybe she only wanted Larkin in her bed.
If that were true, Walt resolved to do his best to be happy for his best friend and foster brother. But he knew he'd be crushed.
But thank the stars above, Sarah had apparently taken a liking to both of them, which was everything that he had hoped for.
Together, they extinguished the oil lamps and candles downstairs. Then, his heart pounding and his cock stiffening with anticipation, Walt followed her upstairs to the rooms that he had so carefully prepared for her.
Chapter Sixteen
When they reached the bedroom, Walt halted in the doorway and watched, spellbound, as Sarah went to the armoire and began to disrobe, beginning with unbuttoning her shirtwaist.
One by one, she hung each garment neatly in the armoire. He held his breath as she unhooked the front of her corset, opening the halves with an audible sigh of relief. Then she loosened the drawstring around her waist, and her petticoats cascaded down around her ankles in a billowing white cloud of fabric.
Now she stood only in her lace-trimmed chemise and drawers. She raised her hand to the tightly coiled bun at the nape of her neck, and Walt shook himself free of his spell.
"Let me." He crossed the bedroom with quick strides and came to stand in front of her.
"If you really want to," she said, her gaze cast shyly down to the worn rug with its faded pattern of cabbage roses.
"I really want to." He reached out and cupped her soft cheek gently before reaching for the first gleaming hairpin embedded in the tight, shining coil of hair.
Like a child opening a Christmas present, he pulled the pins out one by one, until at last the coil unwound into a heavy rope down her back. Reverently, he sank his fingers into the soft, heavy mass and gently combed it out with his fingers, until her freed tresses tumbled over her creamy shoulders and down her back in a glossy torrent.
"You are so beautiful." Walt's voice was hoarse with the desire surging through him.
He drew her into his arms, her unbound curves soft and yielding against him, and kissed her. After a moment, Sarah went up on tiptoes and wound her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
Walt took his time in a long, deep, very thorough exploration of her mouth. When they finally parted, both of them were breathing raggedly, and she looked sweetly flushed in the candlelight.
She was so perfect. And he wanted her with every fiber of his being. Not just her body, though he wanted that too, as luscious and ripely soft as summer fruit beneath the thin chemise and drawers. He wanted to see her awaken, sleep-tousled, every morning, and bask in her smiling, cheerful presence at his table every mealtime. He wanted to keep enjoying the food that she so skillfully and lovingly prepared, and to relax with her in the living room after a long day of hard work.
He wondered what their children might look like, and how a family of his own might fill a house—and a heart—that had been so lonely for the past year.
Most of all, he wondered whether he could convince Larkin out of his stubborn resistance to matrimony and construct a future that would include his best friend and brother in this new family of his dreams.
Right now, though, Walt wanted do what he could to convince his sweet Sarah to stay here on the ranch. Thanks to his impulsive trip to the mine, he now had only a little more than a week before the next train arrived.
He slipped a finger under the narrow strap of her chemise and pushed it off her shoulder, then bent to kiss the smooth, newly bared patch of skin. "Will you come to bed?"
"Certainly, but what about you? You're still wearing all of your clothes," she said, but took the hand he offered her.
He chuckled as he led her over to the big bed. "I'd love nothing more than to get naked with you, sweetheart, but I'm trying to control temptation as best I can. If I keep my pants on, then things won't accidentally go too far, if you catch my meaning."
They came to a halt next to the mattress. Sarah nodded and gazed up at him with a solemn expression. "Thank you. I appreciate your chivalry, especially under the, ah, circumstances."
He dropped his hands to her waist and took handfuls of delicate fabric before tugging her chemise up.
Sarah raised her arms eagerly as he pulled the undergarment up and over her head, revealing an expanse of creamy skin. Her generous breasts were every bit as beautiful as his fevered brain had imagined.
He dropped her chemise on the carpet next to the bed, then lifted her onto the edge of the mattress before he bent his head and nuzzled his way across the taut, velvety curves of her bosom. He loved the whimper she made when he delicately took one of her pink nipples between his lips. She arched her back, offering herself shamelessly to him.
Walt swirled the tip of his tongue around the tip and was rewarded with a gasp and the sensation of her fingers tightening in his hair. God, she was so responsive to him!
He turned his attentions to her other breast, wringing another moan from her.
"You are so beautiful," he told her. "I want to see all of you. Taste all of you."
"Yes, please," she gasped. "I need you, Walt."
"Your wish is my command," he said with a wink and lifted the sweet weight of her breasts in his hands, teasing the stiff nipples with his thumbs.
Walt bent and spent a long time worshiping her breasts with his lips and teeth as she arched and gasped and squirmed in his hold.
Making her shake with need and plead for more was even hotter than he could have imagined.
She almost broke his control when she managed to squirm forward off the edge of the mattress and wrap her legs around his hips.
His desire gained the upper hand as she pressed herself against his aching hard-on.
Walt surged forward with a deep groan, pinning her to the edge of the mattress, and ground himself hard against her center. Her heat soaked through the thick denim of his jeans.
"Please," Sarah begged, clinging to him.
"I want to pleasure you," he said and lifted her back up onto the edge of the bed.
"Oh, my, I thought you'd never ask," she said fervently as he pulled the drawstring fastening her drawers and pulled them down her thighs. They went to join her chemise on the floor, and he eagerly slipped his hand between her thighs. Her womanly parts were deliciously hot and wet against his fingers. He leaned down, breathing in the delectable fragrance of her need for him.
Fuck her! Fuck her now! Make her yours! His cock was howling with need.
Not yet, he reminded it. I'm still trying to convince her to stay and marry me.
Clawing back a measure of control, he turned his head and began to lay a line of kisses and soft nips from her collarbones to the soft swell of her breasts. She jerked and whimpered whenever his week's worth of beard bristle brushed against the sensitive tips.
All the while, he explored her private parts with a gentle fingertip.
He kissed a spiral to her nipples, then paused, just before his lips reached the stiff pink nubs. The fingers between her delectable thighs stroked lightly over the swollen pearl half-buried in her womanly folds. She gasped and grabbed his wrist, trying to urge his hand against her with gratifying desperation.
"Walt!" She writhed and shook beneath his caresses, her breath ragged. "Don't stop! Please!"
"Do you like me?" he asked.
He wasn't sure how long he could control himself, and he needed at least some kind of commitment from her before he went past the point of no return.
"Yes, I do, very much!" she said fervently. "I mean, we've only known each other since last Friday, but you seem very kind and—"
She broke off with a gasp as he rewarded her with a swift, feather-light flick of his tongue across one nipple as he stroked the pearl of her desire again. "—you know how do things like this!"
