Eden

by Carolyn Davidson

  There were those men who delighted in physically hurting women. He’d seen the results of that very thing once in a saloon, when he’d visited a young woman who’d still borne bruises and carried a fear of a man’s touch with her because of such treatment at a customer’s hands.

  That memory caused him to use his gentlest touch as he held Katie’s body close to his own. His hands were careful against her back as he felt tense muscles beneath his fingertips. His mouth delivered only the lightest of caresses as he ran his lips down the taut line of her jawbone, and his breath spun a web of soft words against the curve of her ear. “Lie down on the bed for me, Katie, just like you did last night. We’re going to sleep together from now on.”

  She looked at him quickly, and then looked down at the mattress beside her. “We’re going to sleep together from now on?”

  “If you say so, I’ll only hold you, Katie, like I did last night. I won’t do anything to upset you or cause you to be angry with me.” And then bent his head, the better to kiss the line of her throat.

  She tilted her head back, dislodging him from his chosen spot, his lips having chosen to press against the place beneath her ear where her pulse beat in an uneven pace. “I’m not angry with you, John. Only caught off guard when you swooped me up in the air. You surprised me, but I kind of liked having your arms around me that way. Not like the way old Jacob felt when he tried to crawl into my bed.”

  He looked down into blue eyes that wore the shine of innocence, and his heart beat heavily in his chest. “When did he do that, Katie? When did he try to crawl into your bed?”

  “A couple of times this winter. He said he’d keep me warm, and I should be quiet and let him lay down with me.”

  “What did you do?” John asked, his voice deep, the tone bordering on anger.

  A tone she responded to with a quick look of fear. “I didn’t do anything wrong, John. I told him to leave me alone and when I hollered at him, Agnes came in and made him leave me be.” She shrank within herself then, as if a memory overshadowed her.

  “He beat me something terrible the next day, kind of like he was mad because I yelled at him.”

  “He beat you?” John felt anger wash over him, and released her from his touch, fearful that he might clench his hands against her flesh.

  “It wasn’t any worse than other times, but he was really mad at me. That was a couple of weeks before I left there. I was afraid maybe Agnes wouldn’t hear me the next time, and I don’t know what he’d have done to me.”

  “I do,” John said tightly, and then cursed himself that he had the same urges in mind when he looked at the girl before him. There was a fine line between lust and desire, and the thought that he might in any way resemble Jacob Schrader made him cringe. And so he determined to rein his desire to a level pleasing to Katie.

  Her next words made him grit his teeth as she spoke her innocent query. “Was Jacob wantin’ to do to me what he did to Agnes at night? Sometimes I’d hear her scolding him and him yelling at her and then she’d holler that he was hurting her.”

  John shook his head in despair. “What did those animals do to you, Katie girl? What sort of memories did they leave you with? Marriage shouldn’t be that way. Men and women should be happy to be together, not angry or mean to each other.”

  “Well, I don’t have to worry about them anymore, do I?” she said smartly. “I only have to be a good wife to you, John. And I’m willing to do whatever you want of me.”

  Her flushed cheeks invited him to touch their fine surface with his mouth, and dark hair seemed to beg for his fingers to flow through its length. She’d taken down her braid and the waving mass hung past her waist, holding his fingers captive in the wealth of dark silken texture as he drew her near once more.

  It was more than he could resist. He’d waited, tested his patience and cursed his need even as he’d ached for her slender body to lie beneath him. He knew she would be acquiescent, knew that she would do whatever he asked of her, was certain that he could take what he needed and she would not deny him.

  And in doing so, he would risk himself once more, accept her words of acquiescence to his will, hope for her honesty and offer her his trust. If she proved to be unfaithful, he would curse himself for offering up unto her his name and his support. But of that, he would not think tonight. For now, he would simply take what she offered and give her whatever pleasure he could in this bed.

  But there was a proud bit of him that would not take advantage of her innocence, that needed her to come to him with a desire to seek out his touch. And so he kissed her carefully, not willing to turn loose his passion until she responded in some way. And ached for that moment to arrive.

  CHAPTER TEN

  BENEATH HIS LIPS HER own were soft and welcoming and John spread a carpet of light, teasing kisses over her face. From her temple to the tiny dimple in her chin, he left damp, warm evidence of the heat that burned within him. She turned her face, lifting one hand to his jaw to hold him in place, and her mouth was firm against his as if she were leading his lips to the very spot that craved his kiss.

  And then she imitated him, taking the journey he had taught her in reverse. Her mouth touched lightly against his cheek, his forehead, her lips coasting across his eyelids, her tongue tasting of the vulnerable spot at his temple. He stifled the urge to take control, to seize the tender mouth that teased him now, and instead let her find her own pace.

  As though she’d discovered the pleasure in touch, she drew her hands over his cheeks, through his hair and then clutched at the nape of his neck, drawing his face to hers, standing before him, reaching upward to wrap her arms around his neck.

  “Unbutton my shirt, Katie.” His voice was hoarse, but soft and coaxing and she responded quickly, her fingers dropping to the front of his shirt, seeking out the small buttons and undoing them without hesitation. And then his undershirt underwent the same treatment as she undid, more slowly, those few buttons that held it across his chest. She brushed with the lightest of touches against the hair that lay beneath his shirts, her fingers moving carefully, her head bent to watch as she explored the width of his shoulders, the breadth of his chest, the small male nipples that stiffened at her inadvertent touch.

  His indrawn breath brought her gaze upward, her eyes wide as she met his, and she halted her movement. “John? Did I do something wrong?”

  His head moved but slightly, turning from one side to the other in a motion that denied her fear of wrong-doing. “No, you’re doing everything just right, Katie. I like feeling your hands on me.” He bent his head and lifted her hand in his, holding it to his mouth and brushing his lips across her knuckles. “I’d like to touch you in the same way, but you’ll have to let me know when. Are you ready to lie down on the bed now?”

  He paused and his eyes sought hers, the glow from the kitchen lamp casting a soft gleam of light on her skin as it shone into the bedroom. A pink tinge touched her cheekbones and her eyes sparkled, as if she were on the brink of discovery, as if she were anticipating crossing a boundary into an unknown place.

  “I think so. And…” Her voice was hesitant. “You can touch me any way you want to John,” she said softly, her smile shy. Yet her eyes stayed on his, and he marveled at the trust she granted him. Touch me any way you want. What doors those few words opened, what joys she gave him to discover. And what responsibility her words offered him.

  He placed her fingertips against his chest once more, aware of more than just the slight pressure of her hands, aware that she would venture further if he but coaxed her along the way.

  “Let me take off your dress, Katie. Let me undo the buttons and figure out how to take your petticoat off, and find you underneath all those layers you wear.” And even as he spoke, he took from her the necessity of responding aloud to his request, instead allowing his fingers to slip beneath her uplifted arms and work at the pearl buttons that fastened her dress, sliding them quickly from their moorings and then reaching beneath to where h
er chemise lay. His hand barely touching the finer fabric there, he moved to her waist where tapes were tied, holding her petticoat in place.

  Her dress gaped open and drooped from her shoulders, holding her arms captive and she lowered them for a moment, allowing the fabric to slide down to the floor. Her petticoat followed in short order and she was naked, but for her chemise, her slender arms once more reaching for him.

  The brief garment hung only to her thighs and beneath it were the stockings she’d fastened with pieces of cloth, tying them above her knees. Not even a pretty little garter, he thought, and rued the fact that she lacked any sort of feminine frippery, but had made do as best she could.

  “Sit down on the bed for a minute, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice soft lest he startle her. She did as he’d asked and he knelt before her, taking her shoes off and placing them under the edge of the bed. Then running his hands up her legs, he placed warm hands on her knees, his fingers reaching upward just a few inches to untie the fabric she’d used as garters. He tucked his fingers beneath the edges and pulled the stockings from her, exposing rounded calves and slim ankles, sliding the coarse cotton hosiery from her feet.

  “We’ll buy you some nicer stockings at the general store,” he said, eyeing the heavy fabric with disdain as he tossed the shapeless things aside. “And a pair of garters with lace or flowers or something pretty on them.”

  “I don’t need such expensive things,” she protested, frowning down at him as he allowed his hands the privilege of coasting the length of her calves and ankles once more, lifting her feet to hold them in the palms of his hands.

  “They don’t cost much, Katie, and they’ll look nice on your pretty legs, and won’t leave such deep marks on your skin when you take them off.” His hands moved gently against the reddened areas where her stockings had been and he bent to kiss the flesh there, eliciting a soft protest from her lips.

  He grinned up at her. “I like kissing you, sweetheart. I’d like to kiss you all over in just that same way.”

  “All over?” She looked aghast at the prospect and he laughed softly.

  “You might like it, Katie. Can we give it a try?” Without waiting for her permission or seeking out a further opinion, he straightened and lifted her chemise, pulling it from beneath her and tugging it over her head.

  “John!” It was a single word of protest and he blithely ignored it as he bent closer and placed his lips on her waist, touching the tender flesh with his tongue. Her hands cupped his head and she tugged at him, only to find her palms the recipients of his mouth as he turned from one, then to the other, his lips dropping soft caresses across the width of her hands and then up her arms, until his mouth halted on the inner bend of her elbow.

  He nuzzled there and his murmur was almost lost against her skin. “You’re so soft, Katie, so sweet and fresh.”

  “I haven’t even washed up yet tonight, John. I’m not fresh at all,” she protested.

  “You washed this morning. I saw you in here just scrubbing away at yourself, honey. You’re the cleanest woman I’ve ever known.”

  “I haven’t had a good bath since you hauled water in here for me three days ago,” she reminded him. “But that surely was a pleasure for me, John. I liked being able to sit in warm water and just soak all over.”

  “Next time I’m going to watch you and wash your back for you and dry you off when you’ve finished,” he promised.

  “You can’t watch me take a bath.” Her voice was high and uneven, and he wondered if she weren’t protesting because she thought he expected her to.

  “One of these days when the weather gets warm, we’re gonna go down to the creek the other side of the near pasture and take a bath together there,” he told her. “I’ve been swimming out there more than once. It’s nice and private and the water gets warm in the spring once the sun hits it at high noon.”

  “John, where on earth do you get such ideas? I’ve never heard of such a thing. Just using a tub to bathe in is pure heaven to me. I had to sneak around when the Schraders weren’t home to wash myself all over at the same time. They said it was a waste of hot water to be scrubbing your body in it.”

  “Well, you don’t live with them anymore, sweetheart. You’re here with me, and you can do most anything you want to. One of these days you’ll come to believe me and you won’t fuss and worry.”

  “I’m not fussing, John. I just can’t get used to the idea that you’re so nice to me.”

  He’d done his best not to stare at the soft flesh before his face, but now he reached to touch the curve of her breast and smiled as she quickly lifted her hands to cover herself.

  “You forgot for a minute that your chemise was gone, didn’t you?” he teased. And then his hands covered hers and pulled them to her lap, where the soft curls at the juncture of her thighs brushed against his knuckles. She jolted, jerking back and he lifted her to stand before him.

  “I’m naked, John.”

  He grinned, unable to hide his amusement at her simple protest. “I know. I was the one who took your clothes off, remember?” And now his hands made short work of his shirt, dropping it to the floor, then working at his trousers and his drawers, scuffing them off his feet, leaving him clad in nothing but his stockings.

  Her eyes stayed purposefully on his face, her cheeks turning a more violent shade of crimson and she swallowed with a visible effort. “I want to feel you against me, John. Feel your body and have your arms around me, but I…I can’t look at you.” Her eyes closed then, and he felt a wash of pure joy as he pulled her into his arms, as his hands ran the length of her back, brushing tender caresses over her bottom, then up her sides to where her breasts lay plumped against his chest.

  He eased from her just a bit and allowed his hands to cover those round, soft places that had drawn his gaze so often over the past weeks. The stiffening of the soft crests drew his attention and he yearned to look down at what his fingers cherished, but bent instead to brush his mouth over her shoulders, first one then the other.

  “You’re so soft, Katie, so smooth and pretty. Will you lie on the bed and let me love you?”

  “Love me? Is that what you meant when you said you wanted to make love to me?” Her voice was trembling, as if she must not take anything for granted, as though his words left her puzzled.

  “Yes, Katie. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while now, and especially since yesterday when we got married. We’ve had some time to get to know each other, and the main thing is, I need you to trust me. The night we met, when you came bursting through the doors of the saloon, I knew you were somebody very special, someone I wanted to have in my life. It didn’t take me long, about ten minutes or so, to know that I wanted to take care of you and keep you safe. Now I can only think of possessing you, making you mine and holding you in my arms in the middle of that bed.”

  “Then do that very thing,” she said firmly. “I told you before that I’d do whatever you asked of me.” She took his hands in hers and drew him with her, sitting on the bed and then lifting her legs to scoot across the mattress. “Come lie down with me, John. I want you to hold me tight, I think I need you to put your arms around me.”

  “I’ll do more than just that, sweetheart. And if you don’t like anything that happens, all you have to do is say so and I’ll stop and think of some different way to make you happy.”

  “No one’s ever really cared before if I was happy or not,” she whispered. Her hands reached for him as he rolled to lie beside her and her fingertips were lost in the curls that matted his chest, curls she’d found so fascinating just minutes ago. “I wasn’t going to look at you before. But I’ve changed my mind. You’re beautiful, John, all strong and brown and with such pretty eyes…”

  Her voice trailed off as her hands crept up to his face and rested there, one on either side of his jaw, and though he knew he was but a shadow in the twilight of the room, he sensed her gaze against his skin. She lifted herself a bit so that her mouth wa
s but inches from his and he tucked her closer, his arm against her back. That their bodies meshed in a most satisfying fashion was much to his approval. That she stiffened and then relaxed, laughing softly as she curled closer was more to the point. The point being that the girl was losing a good share of her modesty with him.

  Not that she was in any way lacking in that virtue, or comparable to those women who sold themselves for a living, but for the fact that she was willing to give all she had, all she could be, to the man she’d married. To John Roper, the man who had taken the giant leap yesterday to become her husband, who’d made the decision only a short time ago to become her lover. She was eager to please him, generous with her kisses and willing to follow his lead.

  His heart swelled, fit to burst with the joy that filled him. He took her lips in a kiss of unrestrained desire. He didn’t want to frighten her, but he was unable to touch her with any degree of forbearance, for his body was needy, his manhood primed and ready and the prospect of another night with Katie in his arms was like a glimpse of Heaven to his soul.

  Her mouth was soft, her breath sweet, her lips plush beneath his. He suckled for long moments at her bottom lip, its plump flesh between his teeth, until he felt her jolt, knew the presence of her hips pressing against his in a gesture he recognized. His whispered words were soft against her skin, there where her scent dwelled, on her throat and beneath her ear, a blend of a woman’s desire and a girl’s simple needs.

  For if ever a girl had needs, it was Katie. The joy of touch had been denied her, the pleasure to be found in a simple caress had never been offered, and the thrill of knowing that she was wanted simply because she was lovable was foreign to her. If it took him forever, he’d see to it she tasted of all the simple ways in which a man could bring pleasure to his woman. Whether it be the brush of his palm against her belly, the hungry presence of his lips against the soft flesh of her breast or the touch of his manhood at the verge of her thighs; she would know the extent of his ability to please her, to gift her the quivering rapture of making love with the man who cherished her beyond all else.