by Jane Henry
He took a long pull of water from his cup. “One is,” he said low. I clenched my thighs together, just as Hannah came in from her bedroom. She pulled out a chair and sat down, getting out her books. I felt the tension between me and Samuel as if it were a palpable presence, each sway of my hips met by his hungry eyes, every flex of his muscles as if meant only for me.
“Look at you, growing like a weed,” I said to Hannah as I scraped the dishes clean and cleared the table, gesturing to the floor. “There’s hardly an inch left for you to swing those feet! You’ll be hitting the floor by the end of the summer and we’ll have to take those skirts down!” I felt a sudden pang as I thought about preparing her for school in a few months. She’d need a new dress, and new shoes, and a few small items to bring with her to school. I sighed. My crops needed tending to. Our chicks were growing rapidly, though, and soon would be laying eggs. How much money could one earn selling eggs in town, when plenty of others had their own ready supply? I worried my lip. That would be another worry for another day.
“All right, Hannah,” I said. “Your evening chores are done?”
“Yes’m,” she said, laying down her pencil. She yawned big and turned to Samuel. “Today, Matthew and I found a tree frog down by the creek, and named him Harvey. Then Matthew found a garden snake and had him chase the frog. The frog won this time,” she said nonchalantly.
I looked at her sideways as I washed up the dishes. “Down by the creek?” I asked. “When did you go down there?”
“After school,” she said with a shrug. She stood and grabbed the broom, sweeping the floor of our little cabin.
Samuel was leaning back in his chair, working his jaw, one foot propped up on his knee. “I’m not so sure I want you two goin’ down to the creek unsupervised,” he said. “There’s been some theft in town lately, and a few new arrivals I don’t trust. Aaron found evidence someone was sleepin’ in his barn, and wasn’t too keen on that. A few others ain’t seen much but a little here and there, but with the new stagecoaches takin’ off here, we’ve new people arrivin’ daily.”
Hannah frowned as she swept the floor.
“I didn’t know all that,” I said, turning to Hannah. “I agree. No more going to the creek without an adult. After school, it’s best if you and Matthew come straight back here or go to his home. You hear?”
Hannah’s eyes flashed. “I can take care of myself,” she said.
“I know you can,” I said, surprised at her response. She was normally easygoing and obedient. What had gotten into her? I looked over at Samuel, but he’d righted himself and his arms were crossed on his chest. He was looking at Hannah, not me.
“Your ma said not to go down to the creek without an adult. There’s only one proper response, Hannah. Talkin’ back ain’t it. Mind your ma.”
Hannah continued to frown at him, as she gazed from me to him, and a look flitted across her face.
“Hannah,” I chided.
She sighed, looking at Samuel. “Yes, sir,” she said, then to me, “All right, Ma.”
I nodded slowly, wiping the dishes dry. “It’s not that you can’t handle yourself, Hannah. It’s that we want to keep you safe.”
She nodded, and after a moment, changed the subject. “The birds are getting so big now, Ma,” she said. She’d finished sweeping and put the broom away. I’d completely forgotten about our cheeping little birds while I’d been at Pearl’s.
“Time to let them go?” I asked.
“If they’re ready,” she said. “They may not be strong enough yet, but I think they are.”
We chattered on, and Samuel amiably joined us, until it was time for Hannah to go to bed. She yawned as I brushed and braided her hair, and her eyes looked sleepy. I gave her a goodnight kiss, and she went off to her bedroom. The door shut behind her. Silence fell on the cabin for a moment.
“Come here, Ruth.”
Samuel’s quiet, deep voice sounded loud against the silence. I looked to him. The past few weeks, my view of him had changed. I’d always taken him for a gentle sort, and he still was, at least in part. But now I looked at his wide, strong hands and thought of them holding me down, roaming my body, or spanking me. I looked at his muscled arms, broad lap, and wide chest, and I wanted to be engulfed by him, held, ravished. When he ordered me like this, softly but firmly, my heart fluttered in my chest.
Come here.
I walked slowly to him as he watched, his stern gaze never wavering, and when I stood close enough to him so that he could touch me, he pulled me onto his lap. I sat there as he embraced me, tucking my head against his chest.
“She’s never been contrary like that,” I said to him.
He nodded. He dipped his head, his mouth traveling to my ear. “Been a tryin’ few weeks,” he said. “I know I ain’t her pa, but I have no intention of goin’ away, Ruth. You know that. I’m here to stay, honey, and it’s well and good for children to have the guidance they need.”
I nodded. I felt he was right. I couldn’t have picked a better man to care for me and Hannah than Samuel, and I knew it.
“We’ve been alone for a while now,” I said in explanation. “And it’s hard for me to let some things go.”
He nodded. “I know it,” he said in my ear. “I think I can help you let some things go.” He nipped lightly at my ear, his tongue flicking out. It was surprisingly erotic, my desire for him mounting as one hand slowly caressed my breast.
“Not here, Samuel,” I whispered. “We’re not alone.”
“Relax,” he whispered back. “I can already hear her snorin’.”
I froze. He was right, Hannah’s soft snores sounded in the still of night.
I was still not comfortable with it. “Please, Samuel,” I said. “Take me to bed.”
He gave a curt nod and lifted me straight up. “You’ll never have to ask me that twice, little Ruth.” He crossed the room in long strides, nudging the door open with his toe. He pushed it shut behind him with his heel, turned, and stalked to the bed. He laid me down gently without a word, his fingers unfastening the buttons that ran down the back of my dress. The fabric slipped off my shoulder.
I knew why I’d asked him in here. I knew what I wanted to do, what we both wanted to do, and I was helpless to stop myself.
When I was bared to him, he explored my naked body with his hands, eyes, and mouth. “What perfect breasts,” he murmured, giving an appreciative flick of his tongue along one hardened nipple. My hips rose as my arousal flamed. His second hand went to my other breast and kneaded gently as his tongue continued to flick in and out. His mouth opened and he sucked a nipple in. I gasped from the sheer pain and pleasure all at once. His large hand paused at my breast, then traveled down, tracing over the curve of my hip and thigh, before moving slowly to my feminine parts. He dipped one finger into my sex. I inhaled sharply as he pumped his fingers in me. I was slick and ready. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sweet pleasure of his mouth and hands on me. With every thrust of his fingers, my arousal rose, and with every lick of his mouth, I came closer and closer to losing all control. He removed his fingers from me and knelt on the bed. I groaned, my need for him intense now. He took both of my hands and pressed them flat against my mattress.
“Keep those hands there,” he ordered. I felt a stab of pleasure at the command.
I watched as he undressed himself rapidly, his shirt coming undone and falling to the floor. Next, he unfastened his belt. I swallowed, momentarily wondering what it would be like to be strapped by his belt. It was a part of him, worn at his hips and about his waist, and it seemed it would be intimate to feel what belonged to him mark me as his. I inhaled, trying to muster up the courage.
“Samuel?”
He paused, nodding to me.
“Would you ever spank me with your belt?” I asked.
The thought of a whipping with his belt was both terrifying and arousing. He paused, reaching a hand to my head, his fingers moving down until he reached the nape of my neck. He squeezed g
ently, but hard enough that I felt the claim in his touch. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you obey me.” He bent down and kissed me on my cheek, a whiskery, sweet kiss. I squirmed in appreciation of the gentle gesture.
His voice was husky as he whispered in my ear. “I think sometimes you need to feel my pain to bear yours,” he said. “Like you give it to me. I want you to give it to me, honey. I can take it.” Unexpected tears pricked my eyes. How did he know that? I closed my eyes and nodded.
“Can you?” I whispered. Did he know the pain I carried?
“Yes.”
I swallowed. “I’ll do my best,” I said.
“That’s all you can do, honey,” he whispered. “Tonight, give it to me. Let it go. Focus on bein’ here with me now. I’m the one in control now, Ruth. Not you.” To emphasize his words, he took my wrists in his large hands and pinned them up above my head.
I squirmed a bit, not because I wanted to get away, but because when I moved, his grip tightened. I needed that grip to be strong. I needed him to be wholly in control.
His mouth traveled to my ear again. “You’re not in trouble, honey,” he said. “But tonight, you’ll feel my belt.”
My heart thudded in my chest. He released my hands, stood, and grasped the belt. I heard the clink of the buckle as he doubled it over before he crooked a finger to me.
“C’mere,” he ordered, pointing to the edge of the bed. I scrambled off the bed and came to him. He flicked his finger, indicating for me to lie over the bed. I did, wondering why I’d asked for this. Was I crazy? The man was about to give me a whipping, and I hadn’t avoided it but asked him to.
“Let’s make sure you got my point back at the cabin,” he said. I heard him drawing himself to his full height behind me, and imagined what he looked like, bare chest above the roughness of his trousers. I felt the helplessness begin to descend, and it was welcome. The whizz came through the air a split second before the sting radiated against my naked skin with a resounding whap.
I gasped. He paused, and I knew he was watching me for my reaction. I closed my eyes and stayed in position. I felt him move behind me and heard the whistle through the air as another lash fell. I went up on my tiptoes and grasped the quilt with my hands. It hurt, worse than his hand, but the pain wasn’t unbearable. I yelped and squirmed but he held fast, pressing me into the bed, before he dropped his belt onto the bed.
“Get up on your knees,” he said. I scrambled up, my bottom stinging, but excitement hammering in my chest.
“Stay right there,” he growled, coming up behind me. His hands grasped my hips. I felt his mouth along my naked skin, laying gentle, fluttering kisses along my lower back and down to where he’d just strapped. I imagined he was kissing the stripes he’d just given me. “So beautiful,” he murmured. “Every inch of you, for me.” Another warm, sensual kiss along the curve of my spine. “So brave.” A kiss on my heated skin. I felt his hand between my legs, two fingers plunging into me, almost harshly, before a finger trailed to my sensitive bud and swirled. My hips bucked, and I moaned. The short whipping he’d given me intensified my arousal. I was nearly whimpering with need now as I ground my hips against his hand. He pumped his fingers in me. I could feel myself, warm and moist against his fingers that ravished me. I was going to lose all control, but he stopped.
“Noooo,” I moaned, arching my back toward him. I gasped as his hand connected with my backside in a sharp, corrective swat.
“Who’s the one in charge here, young lady?” he asked sternly.
“You are,” I said. “But I need—”
Another sharp swat.
“I said who’s the one in charge here?”
“You,” I moaned.” You are.”
He gently massaged my bottom. “Good answer.”
Every touch of his hand along my skin made me quiver with desire, even when he merely smoothed his warm, rough palm along the edge of my stinging backside. Without warning, he pumped his fingers in me again. I was on the edge. I was going to lose control. I couldn’t wait any longer.
“You’ll wait until I say,” he growled, almost harshly. “If you don’t wait until I give you leave, you’ll wish you had.”
The threat amped me up even further, the knowledge of his belt folded over just on the edge of the bed making me grasp the quilt in my fists, holding onto every bit of self-control I had. I felt him move behind me, and heard him fumbling with his trousers, the soft rustle of fabric. I could’ve wept with relief. I needed him to take me.
Warm, rough hands grasped my hips. I felt his hands between my legs preparing me before he slid into me. I groaned out loud. I felt so full, so desperate for him I ground against his flank. His grip tightened. The warmth of my bottom against his skin, the residual sting of the licks he’d given me, and my body slick and ready for him, made me moan in agony. I couldn’t bear it. It was delicious but torturous. Slowly, ever so slowly, he drove in and out, the measured strokes of his thrusts making me groan with need.
“Samuel,” I moaned. “Plleeease.” He moved out and in so slowly, I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt as if it were being constricted. I needed the release. The torture of his slow movements was making me lose all control and sanity. Nearly out of my mind with need, I reached a hand to his leg and squeezed. His response was a sharp crack to my bottom, which made me squeal.
“Nooow!” I begged him, so desperate it was a command. My hands grasped the quilt on my bed.
He withdrew himself. I moaned.
His whole body covered me, his back against mine, larger, stronger, and warm, pressing me onto the bed, my breasts flat against the roughness of the quilt, my cheek tilted to the side, my eyes closed as his mouth came to my ear.
“Who’s in charge, young lady?” he whispered.
“You are,” I whispered. I felt my taut body begin to loosen a bit.
“Who tells you what to do, little Ruth?” he whispered, his voice deepening.
I swallowed. It was becoming easier now, here in the dark, pinned beneath him, his warm hands holding me. “You, sir. You do.” An unexpected tear escaped from my tightly closed eyelids.
I felt a kiss on my cheek, a reward for my submission.
“Who takes care of you, honey?”
“You, sir,” I nearly sobbed, for he was right. He was the one who would hold my burdens. He was the one who would give me pain so that I could bear my own. And with the last shuddering breath, I let go of all control.
“Good girl,” he murmured, at the very same time propping me back up on my knees. I felt every movement—his hands positioning me, every intake of his breath and mine. He plunged into me, almost harshly, but it was welcome.
“Now,” he said.
It was all I needed. Ecstasy shot through me, so intense I cried out, still sniffling, the tears and bliss mingling as I soared, my mind eased from all but Samuel, his own release mingling with mine until we lay, spent, panting, and quiet in the darkness.
The tears flowed freely now. He rolled over, taking me with him, pulling me up on his bare chest.
“That’s my girl,” he soothed, kissing my tearstained cheeks and running a rough hand through my tousled hair. “My beautiful, strong girl.”
It felt nice with my cheek against his bare chest, the small curlicues of his hair tickling my skin. I was suddenly exhausted, surrendered to him in the darkness. My eyes felt heavy.
Against my better judgment, to my shock and later regret, not as his wife, but as his lover, I fell asleep in his arms.
* * *
I was deep in a dark, wooded area. Dried leaves crunched under my feet, and I was running, both from someone and toward someone, holding my skirts, trying to run faster, but I couldn’t. The fog seemed to come to life, and I knew why I was fleeing.
Hannah.
I had to get to Hannah, and I knew she was ahead of me. I also knew that my pursuer was going to hurt me, or worse—hurt my daughter. I heard a filthy stream of words come from behind me, and I knew wit
hout looking that it was my late husband in hot pursuit. He was going to get her. I had to find her. I had to protect her. My foot snagged a tree root, and I went sprawling, my hands flying out in front of me. I screamed, but no sound came. I couldn’t get to her. She would slip through my fingers and he would find her. I had to get to her.
He was upon me now, and I could feel him, though I couldn’t see his rabid eyes and leering mouth mocking me. I could feel him. I could hear him, and with my next breath, his hands were on me, hoisting me to my feet viciously. I screamed out loud. And that was when I woke.
As strong hands wrapped around me in my half-asleep state, I flailed, defending myself, until Samuel’s low voice came to me in the darkness.
“It’s me. It’s Samuel. Ruth, stop.”
I froze as I suddenly remembered everything. I realized I was thrashing about with a blanket wrapped around my still-naked body, and Samuel was lying next to me, holding me tightly up against him.
I exhaled, shaking my head and closing my eyes. “It was just a bad dream,” I said. “An awful dream. But it was just a dream.”
“Shhh,” he whispered. I allowed him to hold me for a moment before I opened my eyes. As I peered over his shoulder, I saw daybreak peeking under the curtains. I bolted upright.
“Samuel!” I hissed. “Oh, you have to go! Go!” I said, pushing myself away from him in a panic.
Eyes still sleepy, he frowned. “Well, good mornin’ to you, too, sunshine.”
“Land’s sake, if Hannah wakes up and finds you here—if Ma sees you didn’t come home last night—”
He rubbed a hand across his brow, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Honey, no doubt Ma knows I didn’t come home last night,” he said in a husky, still sleepy voice.
I moaned. “She’ll know that—”
“Ma keeps her own counsel,” he said, pulling on his trousers and shirt. “As for Hannah, that’s a fair point and I’ll hightail it outta here. You watch, and we’ll make sure she ain’t gonna see me, all right?”
I sighed, closing my eyes. I didn’t like skittering around like this. I threw on my chemise, rapidly dressing. My breathing was still ragged, my palms still sweaty as I rushed him toward the door.
