Rebel Rose

by Debra Glass

  “Your cunny’s wet,” he said.

  Instinctively, she parted her feet even more and then she bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out as he began working his finger in and out of her.

  “Do you like this, Rose?” he asked huskily. “Did you come all the way up here for this?”

  She hadn’t thought about it that way but there was more truth to his presumption than she wanted to admit. Her legs shook. Her lashes fluttered shut. She whimpered.

  “Did you come up here to be fucked?” he demanded.

  She clenched around his probing finger.

  “Did you, Rose?”

  “Yes,” she confessed breathlessly.

  Clinging, she struggled to stand as her channel spasmed slowly at first and then it was upon her. Rose dug her nails into the rough wool of his coat and dragged in a ragged breath as ecstasy crashed through her body.

  “That’s it, love. That’s it,” he cooed as he wrested every last bit of pleasure from her body until she was left trembling and perspiring and gasping for breath.

  When he withdrew his finger, her skirts tumbled down and before she could regain coherent thought, she saw that he was unfastening the row of ivory buttons on his uniform pants.

  His magnificent cock sprang free and Rose sank as he pulled her down until she was kneeling on the floor in front of him. His fingers worked their way into her chignon and he drew her head toward him until his phallus was against her lips. “Take me in your mouth again.”

  Eric thought he would explode when her lips closed around the head of his cock. Most women would not take a man’s cock in their mouths. Sally had, of course. He inhaled sharply. Sally had pretended to be embarrassed. She’d acted as if she hadn’t known what she was doing but she was practiced. Eric could tell.

  He watched Rose for the same well-rehearsed techniques. Instead of sucking and handling him with rehearsed skill, however, Rose laved him. Her motions were almost awkward. She was hesitant but her uncertainty did not stem from unwillingness. Eric stroked her cheek. “Touch me,” he urged her.

  Her fingers encircled the base of his cock.

  “That’s right,” he whispered. “Now work it with your mouth and hand together like you did before.”

  She complied and Eric’s insides melted. Her mouth was hot. Her tongue was inquisitive. Her hand gripped him like a vice.

  Eric warred with the desire to lose himself in her body and his need to punish to her. She had never uttered words of love to him. She had never misrepresented herself. She wasn’t Sally.

  But he was convinced she’d gone through his pockets and sent the information she’d found to the Rebels. Thankfully, it was false information. The very real truth was that if it had been genuine, lives would have been lost, possibly his own.

  Sherman had been right. She was a Jezebel.

  Lust faded into anger and Eric pushed himself further into her mouth. “Suck me.”

  She should have bitten him. She should have stopped. She did neither. Instead, she squeezed tighter and sucked harder.

  Consumed with passion, she was beautiful. Her face was flushed. Strands of dark hair had escaped her tight chignon. Black lashes rested on her cheeks. Her swollen lips were wrapped around his cock.

  His scrotum tightened when her tongue darted out to flick along his length. He watched her—desiring her. Hating her.

  He wanted to break her. He wanted to force her to confess.

  “Enough,” he growled. “Pull up your skirt and bend over the desk again.”

  Her eyes met his briefly as she quickly did as he’d bidden. Her voluminous black skirt with her lacy white petticoat and hoop skirt arched over her cotton-clad bottom. He wanted her naked but that was impossible right here, right now.

  He could at least get rid of those drawers. He wanted that pretty bottom visible. And accessible.

  Reaching around her waist, he jerked the drawstring that held up her pantalets and in one swift motion he dragged them down to her thighs.

  She gasped but did not protest.

  Her ass shuddered as he ran his palm over one rounded buttock. How he wished he could turn her over his knee and spank her into submission. Working his cock with one hand, he teased through her cleft with the fingers of the other.

  She tensed.

  Yes. Eric’s lips pulled into a wicked smile. “Open your legs, sweet Rose.”

  Tentatively, her feet moved apart. Her cunny lips clenched visibly. Cream glistened at her opening. She jolted when Eric wriggled two fingers inside her to coat them with her juices. Watching her intently, he rubbed the liquid around the puckered opening to her anus.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “Shh.”

  One of her hands batted at her skirts and she peered at him over the wealth of fabric and hoops. He only grinned and pushed one well-lubed finger into the orifice.

  Rose’s lips parted. “Eric—”

  “Relax.”

  “Stop. That’s…that’s sodomy,” she hissed.

  His grin widened. “So was sucking my cock but you didn’t seem to mind that.”

  Her cheeks turned positively red. Triumph surged through Eric. He patted her bottom with his free hand. “Now relax. I’m going to fuck you here.” When she softened a bit more, he pushed his finger all the way inside until his fist was wedged between her cheeks.

  She tensed again. “It hurts.”

  “Relax,” he cooed. “Trust me.”

  He felt a little of the fight go out of her legs.

  “That’s it,” he coaxed. “Spread for me. Wider. Oh yes.” His finger began to move easily in and out of her tight, slick hole. She trembled and her head dropped to the desk.

  He smiled. “You can’t believe you’re letting me do this to you, can you?”

  “No.”

  The desire to both dominate her and pleasure her at the same time warred within him. “Does it feel good?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Tell me where my finger is, Rose.”

  She whimpered.

  Her orifice grew unbelievably wetter and wetter. He’d done this with women before. None had ever responded like this. He reached between her legs with his free hand and tickled her cunny. “Where’s my finger, Rose?”

  “In…in my…bottom.”

  “That’s right,” he said, continuing to slowly fuck her there with his index finger. “Do you want my cock in there?”

  “It’s too small.”

  “You’ll stretch for me,” he said.

  “I can’t,” she protested.

  He gave her a low chuckle. “That’s all right, Rose. I can fuck you with my finger like this until you beg me for more.”

  Her body loosened in response and soon, she was on tiptoe and dipping her spine to lift her bottom higher. She was almost ready.

  Her cunny was so wet he dipped the cream onto his fingers and coated his cock with it. Rose trembled when he withdrew the finger from her anus. But when he prodded the orifice with the head of his cock, her body grew taut once more.

  “Once it’s inside, it will feel good,” he murmured. “Let me in, Rose.”

  He gave a little push with his hips and the opening expanded to admit him. She yelped. “It hurts. Eric. Please.”

  He hesitated, giving her time to adjust. “Please more, or please stop?” Perspiration rolled downward between his shoulder blades. He ached to thrust into her but somehow, he managed to restrain himself.

  “Please…more.”

  Slowly, he urged his cock into her hole. His balls pulsated. He just knew he would blow before he was completely inside. He swallowed and tried to think of anything except the fact that his cock was embedded at least two inches inside her ass. No man had ever taken her here.

  As he entered her to the hilt, she let out a long, low moan. “Does it still hurt?” he asked, shaking.

  “No.” Her voice faltered.

  “Does it feel good?”

  “Yes,” she said with a wriggle o
f her ass.

  Eric growled and dug his fingers into the soft flesh of her bottom. Now he could punish her. Now he could make her admit she was a spy. He pumped against her, driving her body hard against the desk. The legs grated on the wood floor but Rose braced herself on her elbows. She’s loving it.

  Eric gripped her hips tighter. He thrust harder. Rose’s breaths left her body in sharp, punctuated bursts. He all but lifted her feet off the floor as he drove wildly into her. He was beyond caring if he hurt her. All that mattered was satisfying this insane lust he had to dominate her, to bend her to his will—to possess her body and mind and soul.

  The muscles in her legs stiffened. Her nails burrowed into the papers on his desk. She moaned helplessly and Eric knew she was in the throes of orgasm. His own release would not be far behind.

  Without warning, footsteps sounded on the stairs.

  “Eric,” Rose gasped.

  Goddammit. Eric jerked away and whirled to fasten his trousers. He’d been so close. Frustration welled.

  Rose straightened and her drawers fell to the floor. She kicked out of them and booted them under the desk. Before the first soldier got to the doorway, she was halfway across the room and although her face was flushed, she looked every bit the respectable lady.

  Eric needed to sit to hide his bulging cock but the act would be unseemly if a woman was still standing in the room. “Won’t you sit down, Mrs. O’Kelley?” he said curtly as he pulled his chair up to the desk and sat. He shifted in an attempt to get some kind of relief.

  Rose sat gingerly in a chair across from the desk.

  “Sir,” the soldier greeted with a smart salute. He eyed Rose uncomfortably as he crossed the room and handed Eric a folded piece of paper.

  Eric’s insides knotted. Instinct told him he would find evidence in this memo that Rose was a spy. Part of him had hoped she wasn’t. Part of wanted to explore a future with her.

  Hands shaking, he unfolded the paper. Disappointment swamped him. The sigh he heaved hurt his chest. The false information he’d planted had indeed been delivered to the Confederate General, Stephen Lee, and a band of Rebel cavalry had shown up where Eric had stated supplies were being hoarded.

  His gaze lifted to Rose’s. Her expression was unreadable. She averted her eyes.

  Eric pursed his lips. When could she have stolen out of bed and how had she gotten the information to someone who could take it to Lee? There was more than one spy in their midst. Arresting a town lady would be the way to ferret whoever aided her out. This was just the kind of evidence Sherman had wanted.

  But God, Eric wished there was some other way.

  He steeled himself as his gaze turned on the soldier who’d brought him the note. “Bring me the sergeant at arms, please.”

  With a salute, the soldier turned and left the room.

  Rose emitted a giggle. The sound of it infuriated Eric. Fuming, he stared.

  Her dark eyebrows lowered. “Eric? What’s the matter?”

  “When did you do it?” he asked.

  Her head tilted slightly. “Do what?”

  He snorted. “You know very well what, Mrs. O’Kelley.”

  She gripped the armrests on her chair. “Eric, speak plainly.”

  “When did you get out of bed and go through my pockets?” he asked. His insides burned. “Was it before or after I fucked you?”

  Her mouth formed an O. She shot to her feet. “You listen, here, Eric Skaarsberg. We may have comforted one another in the dark but I don’t have to tolerate that kind of speech from you.”

  Eric stood. “Don’t pretend you’re all high and mighty. I know what you did.” He half-wadded the paper in his fist and shook it at her. “I have the memo to prove it.”

  Rose’s eyes darted back and forth. Was she working up a lie? Was she racking her brain to come up with a scapegoat?

  “I don’t understand what it is you’re saying I’ve done,” she argued.

  He shook his head. “General Sherman told me you were a Jezebel. Of course, I saw that for myself the first day you paraded in here with your dress half undone.”

  Rose gasped. Her cheeks colored.

  “I suspected you were hoarding supplies,” he told her. “But I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I thought you might be accumulating foodstuffs for your friends and neighbors.”

  “I—”

  He interrupted. “How did you get the information to Lee so quickly? Who’s helping you?”

  She stared. The color drained from her face and her irises blackened.

  “There’s the look I was waiting for,” he told her. “You know you’ve been caught now. When did you go through my pockets?”

  Her eyes narrowed into vicious slits. “Every time you turned your back,” she said enunciating each word for emphasis.

  Eric felt as if he’d been gouged in the guts with a bayonet. “Just as I thought.”

  The sergeant at arms strode into the room. Eric straightened. “Take her into custody.”

  Rose gasped. “Under what charge?”

  The sergeant hesitated. “But Colonel—”

  “She’s a spy for the Confederacy,” Eric said as he skirted his desk and came toe to toe with Rose. She trembled. Something twisted inside him that urged him to drag her into his arms. He fought it and grasped at the elusive hope she was not the spy and that this was all an awful mistake. Instinct—and experience—told him differently.

  “Rose, are you protecting someone else?” he asked, his voice dropping to a whispering murmur.

  Her eyes burned into his. “I did it, you Yankee bastard. Now do what you will with me.”

  “Take her into custody,” Eric ordered, battling the urge to take her instead under house arrest. But that would be a grievous mistake.

  “You’re not going to…to hang a woman?” the sergeant asked.

  Eric had no intention of ordering Rose to be hanged although at the moment, he would love to strangle her himself. Still, he wanted her to realize the severity of the consequences she could face. “That won’t be up to me. Now, get her out of my sight.”

  “Ma’am?” the sergeant said gingerly.

  Rose’s fingers entwined around Eric’s arm. “Eric?”

  He jerked away from her grasp. “Take her,” he said, turning his back on her. “And don’t let yourself be fooled by her flirting.”

  “Come with me,” the sergeant said.

  “Bastard,” Rose spat the word before she whirled and stormed from the room alongside the sergeant.

  Eric sank into the nearest chair and raked his fingers through his hair. This was harder than the last time. He wished he’d refused Sherman’s orders. Arresting a spy was his duty to his country.

  So why did it feel so terribly, terribly wrong?

  * * * * *

  Rose’s mind raced as she walked in silence with the sergeant at arms. Every step reminded her that she wasn’t wearing her drawers and the reason why infuriated her.

  Eric had known—or at least assumed—someone had pilfered information from his pockets when he’d bent her over his desk. And yet, he’d persisted in being intimate with her.

  Rose clenched her fists at her sides so hard her nails bit into her palms.

  Being humiliated by Eric was the least of her worries. Someone had gone through Eric’s pockets and had evidently taken what they assumed was valuable information to the Confederates. Rose was fairly certain that someone was Rueben.

  The punishment for espionage was death and while Rose didn’t believe for an instant the Yankees would hang her, she knew they would hang Rueben without ceremony.

  Being confined in a Yankee prison was hardly as awful as watching her friend—her deceased husband’s half-brother—be killed. For that reason, she would confess and let the Yankees think she was their spy.

  Come what may.

  * * * * *

  “Colonel Skaarsberg,” Brigadier General Pike greeted as he strode into the room.

  Eric stared. He had not bee
n informed Pike was coming to Florence. Pike, however, knew the area well. Although he’d only been a colonel himself at the time, he’d been here with Colonel Cornyn, whom the locals hated.

  Cornyn had burned all the mills and would have destroyed the town had the locals not pulled strings with Union officials. A tiff with William Bowen, one of the officers who’d loudly protested Cornyn’s treatment of Florence citizens, had resulted in Cornyn’s court-martial. At the trial, Bowen had pulled a pistol and shot Cornyn.

  While Eric was fully aware the North was embroiled in a war with the South, he felt the sadistic measures Cornyn and men like Pike took were unnecessary and cruel.

  “I hear you caught the little she-Rebel. Good for you, Colonel,” Pike growled.

  Eric stood. The general looked even more weathered than Eric remembered. Older than most other officers of his rank, Pike had risen in the ranks from a private. While he’d had some military training, he was hardly a West Pointer. He was the rough frontier type who’d fought in the Mexican War and had earned his way up in the ranks because the men above him had either been promoted or killed.

  The fact that he’d already heard about Rose wasn’t good.

  “And quick thinking about sending her to the jail instead of putting her under house arrest,” Pike added as his beady eyes surveyed the office. “This place hasn’t changed much since we were here last year.”

  “Well, Sir, the jail is really temporary. I hoped to frighten her into divulging her accomplices and—” Eric began.

  “Frighten her?” Pike blurted. “The Confederates are amassing in Tuscumbia to cross the river any day now.”

  Eric’s stomach churned. “What are you saying? We’re going to have to pull out of here. We can’t take a woman while we’re under fire.”

  Pike chortled. “We’re not taking her anywhere.”

  “Then what do you propose I do? I can’t very well release her,” Eric argued.

  “We’re going to make an example of her to Hood’s entire secesh army.”

  Cold chills swept up Eric’s arms. He tried to form words but couldn’t.