He was weakening. She went back to work on her blouse. “In a good way, I hope.”
He shook his head. She wished she dared ask if he were answering her question or expressing what he felt. “There are a lot of things I’ve done in my life that I’m not proud of, but the one thing I don’t want to stand up in front of God and defend, is betraying you.”
“It’s not a betrayal.”
“Did they rape you?”
She got the third and fourth button free. “They raped my soul.”
“And you want it back.”
Absolutely. “I want it back.”
His smile was a challenge and a promise all in one. “So you’ve come to the devil to claim it?”
She smiled. “You’re not the devil.”
“There are those who say I am.”
“And there are those that say you’re a savior. I want you to save me, Ace. I want you to kiss me and touch me all over. I want you to put your hands where they put theirs. I want you to put your mouth where they put theirs and then I want you to take it further, and I want you to make beautiful what they tried to make ugly.”
His big body shuddered under hers. “And what do you think that will do for you?”
“It will make me whole.”
“It could just add to the damage.”
She shook her head at him. “You’re such a stubborn man.”
He snorted. “You put the definition in the dictionary.”
The last of the buttons gave way. She tried to shrug the wet shirt off her shoulders but it wouldn’t go. “Then we should be fine as there’s nothing two stubborn people can’t accomplish.”
“Or destroy.”
Giving up on the shirt, she cupped his face in her hands and leaned forward. “Would you just hush and kiss me?”
It wasn’t the most romantic proposition Ace had ever heard, and it surely wasn’t the most passionate but it was the most heartfelt. Pulling her closer he leaned in, stopping just short of contact, teasing her with the anticipation. Her lips parted. His cock jerked. Damn, the woman was pure enticement. “Ask me nicely.”
Without hesitation she whispered, “Please,” teasing him right back.
This close it was hard to see much beyond the paleness of her skin and the contrast of the darker bruises.
“They hit you.”
“I fought.”
Very gently he touched his lips to her swollen ones. “I killed them.”
She blinked. “Thank you.”
He kissed her again. Once. Twice. Taking her gasp on the third one for what it was. Desire. “You’re welcome.”
He watched curiosity narrow her eyes, felt a smile smooth her lips. “More,” she whispered.
The woman did like to give orders. “Ask me nicely.”
“Please.”
He happily gave her what she wanted. It was what he wanted, too. Letting his mouth linger, he rubbed his lips ever so lightly over hers, wanting more, too aware of her delicate state to demand it. It was her tongue that came out to touch his. Her desire that tempted him to let loose. He’d give her what she needed, but not more.
There was a strange logic to her thinking that he approved of. A body couldn’t help what happened to them, but they could determine how it defined them. When his town had been wiped out, the Hell’s Eight had all had the option to curl into a ball and cry. Instead, they’d leaned on each other and become strong. Making that moment in time into the one that’d shaped Hell’s Eight into the force they’d become.
And now Pet was coming to him, seeking his guidance, asking for his strength to take the horror and make it a base for something good. The satisfaction sank deep. It was a big task she laid at his feet. Turning something ugly into something beautiful. Creating one single memory strong enough to overcome a dozen more. Giving him her trust. As she should. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, sending desire rippling through him. This was right. His woman. His responsibility.
He pushed the paleness of her hair off the flush of her cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
Such confidence she had in him. Such trust. There was nothing more arousing than a woman’s trust to a man like him. Nothing more inspiring.
“There’s nothing you can do to me that would hurt me like them.” Her forehead dropped to his. That was probably the saddest thing he’d ever heard a woman say, and it brought out every protective instinct in him. Pet wasn’t the first woman he’d rescued who’d been abused by a man. Many of them fell into apathy, but not his Pet. She was coming out swinging. She was fighting the only way she knew how. He respected that.
He cupped her in his hand, just holding her, giving her that balance she needed. “You do know how to put a man on the spot.”
“I’m putting a lot of stock in your reputation.”
It was a weak joke. The smile that backed it even weaker, but she was determined. He had no doubt she’d back out or panic before things got too far, but it wouldn’t hurt him to indulge her need. A fighter sometimes just needed to fight with whatever tools they had. And right now he was hers. He could give her a kiss, a caress, all the softness he could find inside him.
“Put your arms around my neck.”
She obeyed immediately with a seductive eagerness that threatened to undermine his good intentions. He tugged her up so her breasts were against his chest and her lips were against his. His cock settled naturally into the crease of her pussy. If he hadn’t been holding her so close, he wouldn’t have felt her start.
“Come here.”
She blinked and sucked in a slow breath. He liked how she didn’t panic. Just held her ground. “How much more here can I get?”
She was about to find out. “A hell of a lot closer.”
Again she obeyed with that rare naturalness. Stretching up, she fitted her curves better to him. He threaded his fingers through her hair. Instinct demanded he tighten his grip and position her for his kiss. His muscles tensed. At the last moment he reined in the impulse. This was Pet. She didn’t need that side of him. But he could push her with words.
“Tilt your head back.”
She did, looking at him expectantly.
“A little more to the right...”
She did, straining to hold the uncomfortable position, simply because he asked her to. Fuck, she was killing his good intentions with that instinctive compliance. Lust surged. She had no idea how seductive that was. If she hadn’t been going to get her wish before, she was definitely going to get it now.
“Good girl.”
She smiled a little. “This isn’t very comfortable.”
“I know.”
Releasing his hand in her hair he made a cradle of his palm, cupping her skull in his hand. Giving her support.
“Now kiss me.” He brought his mouth to hers.
Her lips were sweet and soft. He wanted to ravish, to push, to take, to claim. Instead, he was gentle, kissing her lightly, trying to give her sweet, gradually increasing the pressure, running his tongue over her lips in a silent request. She parted hers immediately, toying a little bit more with his control. Did she have no idea what that instant compliance did to a man of his nature?
He seduced her gently until her mouth moved against his, her tongue touched his, lightning shot through him. It’d been a long time since he kissed a woman this innocently, if ever, but he liked it. The water cooled but their bodies heated. He lifted her just a little, just enough. Stroked his cock on her pussy and slid her back down, notching it carefully. Her eyes grew wide as her clit rubbed against the thick tip. He broke off the kiss to nibble her cheek, her neck, the hollow of her throat. Her head fell back naturally into his hand. Her breasts rose up naturally into his mouth. In the gentlest of caresses, he brushed his mouth across on
e nipple. It was soft and pouty, not hard and demanding. In definite need of attention.
She moaned and arched her back a little bit more.
“That’s right, give it to me,” he whispered against her skin.
She gasped, “I’m trying.”
He wanted her response, not what she thought he wanted. “Don’t think. Don’t worry. Just follow my lead.”
He had to be satisfied with her nod.
Sprinkling a path of kisses, he moved his mouth to the other breast, feeling the nipple harden against his tongue almost immediately. Her hips rocked on his cock in a subconscious plea, teasing them both, and he smiled. Whatever had happened to her, it hadn’t ruined her. If a man went slow and easy, she could work through it. Lust speared deep, settling like a certainty in his gut. He was going to be that man.
He released her nipple with a little pop, and she jumped. They weren’t soft now. They were hard and red and demanding more. The only thing keeping her upright was him. He wouldn’t let her fall, and she knew it. He liked that. Trust mattered.
“Steady now.”
Catching her hips in his hands, he started rocking her harder and faster on his cock, watching her face. Looking for the little telltale signs, listening to her breath, waiting for that special catch that told him he’d found the right spot, the right rhythm. They came in the next second. She caught his rhythm and set a bit of her own. Normally, he wouldn’t allow it but this was Pet and this was what she needed. He’d always give her what she needed.
If he could hold on long enough. Christ, he hoped he could hold on long enough. The slick little glide of her pussy, the catch of her clit riding up and down his cock was driving him crazy.
Her nails dug in. Her thighs clutched at his. Her breathing fragmented on the whisper of his name. His own breath was just as ragged. “Like that,” he groaned. “Just like that, Pet. Take what you need.”
She rose up and his cock, rock hard, slipped back, wedging naturally into the well of her vagina. This time her gasp was louder. This time her eyes opened, and he was the one that groaned when their gazes met. So much passion, so much desire, and he couldn’t do a goddamn thing about it except give her this. He lifted up, just a little, his hips spreading her thighs, his cock spreading her pussy. She was tight, much tighter than he’d expected.
Her nails dug deeper into his chest, dragging down, making little furrows. As she pressed back he wanted to grab her hips, pull her down, push up, claim her in a long, blissful “mine.” But this was Pet, and she needed gentle, and if it killed him he was going to give her gentle.
He rocked his hips in little pulses. She moaned and pressed down.
No turning back.
He caught her slender hips in his hands, loving the delicacy that housed such passion. She was all fire under that pale, cool exterior.
“No,” she said, “don’t stop.”
She thought he was stopping? “I don’t think I could stop if I wanted to.”
Not with her tight pussy milking the sensitive head of his cock in the same rhythm of his pulses. Not with her gaze clinging to his, revealing everything she felt. Every bit of wonder. Every dart of pleasure. She pressed down, her nails digging deeper. The sting blended with the pleasure. He groaned and gritted his teeth, feeling those delicate muscles part. Feeling the heat waiting beyond. It went completely against his nature to be passive, but if it killed him, goddamn it, he’d give her what she needed.
The thought lasted for two seconds and then he felt it. That thin layer of skin that changed everything. A virgin; she was a virgin. Thoughts raced faster than reason. How the hell had they not raped her? Thank God they hadn’t raped her.
Lust burned like fire. His. She was so close to being his. Only his. His hands trembled. Fucking actually trembled. “Pet...”
Her gaze was unfocused, her expression impatient. “What?”
Damn, she was beautiful.
“I can give you pleasure without taking your virginity.”
Her nails scraped across his already scratched skin. She growled in her throat, “No going back.”
He growled right back. “I’m trying to be the gentleman.”
And it was killing him.
“I don’t want a gentleman,” she moaned. “I want you.”
A man could take that many ways. He chose to take it as an invitation.
Reaching between them, he grazed his fingers down her stomach. She didn’t make it easy, pressing against him, wanting to rub her nipples against his skin but he had another place he wanted to rub. She was hot for sure, but he wanted her wild.
“You feel so good in me.”
And he wanted her quiet, he added. Many more words like that and he was going to turn into the animal he was trying not to be.
“I know something that’s going to feel even better.”
“What?”
His thumb slipped between her pussy lips, working between the thick folds, finding the smoother center, finding that hard nub.
“Spread you legs.”
“I can’t...”
“Spread them.”
He rubbed and she did. Bracing herself against him, rocking her hips on his cock, taking more as the pleasure built. He wanted her to come. He wanted her to know that little death. He needed her to know that first time was with him. All her firsts belonged to him. All her seconds. Her lasts.
Her eyes closed, and her head fell back. A flush spread down her chest; her nipples peaked; her whole body went stiff. He rubbed harder, faster. She shook and tightened. Her pussy grabbed at his cock, milking it with little internal flexes that drove him crazy. He gritted his teeth and groaned right along with her.
“That’s it. That’s what I want. Open your eyes.”
She did.
“Good girl.”
Her gaze focused. He increased the pressure, lifting his hips. His cock slid deeper. He was big and she was little, and he worried but she was so lost in the pleasure she didn’t notice the pain, becoming one with it. His pain, her pain and the pleasure, just so much pleasure. She was close. So close. So was he.
“Come for me, Pet.”
She looked at him, not understanding, and he caught himself. Had he ever had a virgin before?
“Just let go,” he murmured. “Let the pleasure take you. Don’t fight it.”
“I don’t know...”
He cut off her protest with a light drag of his nail against her swollen clit, brought her to the edge with a series of circling caresses. She moaned and clutched. His balls drew up tight.
“Right there?”
She nodded, relaxing totally into him, gasped when he did it again. And again. Her muscles pulled taut and a fine quiver started deep.
“That’s it.” He rubbed harder, holding her gaze, gauging her pleasure,
“Come for me.” With a fast, hard rub, he sent her over the edge. “Now.”
Her orgasm took her in a shuddering convulsion. He watched it start in her eyes, felt it spread outward, body shuddering, eyes closing, nails grabbing and digging in a rhythm that matched the clenching of her pussy. Hard and fast she milked his cock. Demanding even as she took. Impossible to resist.
“Goddamn.” Fisting his hands in the silk of her hair, he arched her back, inching deeper into the hot, slick perfection of her pussy. Feeling that hard pulsing start in his balls, holding her put as he jerked within her. As she came that first time. For him. With him. His. Fucking his. No one else’s. Ever. She was his.
“Ace!”
“No one else,” he groaned, forcing the words past the hard knot of desire. The woman was going to burn him up.
Closer. He needed to be closer. Deeper. So deep he’d always be a part of her. She moaned. With every jerk of his cock she clenched. It was good. The most innocen
t lovemaking in which he’d ever indulged, and it was so damn good.
“Come here.”
He needed her closer. Taking her with him, he collapsed back against the tub, his breath soughing in and out of his lungs. Damn, he might never take a full breath again. Pet collapsed against him. So sweet and delicate. So passionate. Her arms came around his neck. His went around her back. Her cheek found his shoulder. She sighed and shivered. Her hug summed up everything he felt.
Home. He finally understood what it meant. He was home. Kissing Pet’s forehead, her cheek, pulling her hair out of her face, seeing the stunned wonder on her face. He couldn’t help a chuckle. He felt good, inside and out, in a way he never had. At peace. Right.
Rubbing the base of her spine, he kissed her temple. His fingers naturally cupped her ass. “Come morning we’ll find the preacher and get married.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE SALOON DOORS slammed open, the late-morning sun temporarily chasing away the interior shadows. For a moment, a familiar silhouette stood in the doorway, Caden Miller. And right behind him, Luke.
Ace swore. His day only needed this.
Caden strode into the near-empty saloon like he owned it, a shotgun cradled in his arm. Luke followed right on his heels. Not many came through the doors on a Tuesday. Ace shuffled the cards through his fingers, sliding them one over the other. Didn’t take a genius to know why they were here. The shotgun was a good clue. When he was in a killing mood, Caden favored his revolvers. Ace took a sip of his whiskey and laid out the first tier of his solitaire game. The shotgun meant Caden was annoyed. Luke tagging along meant he was bored. Or annoyed. Shit again. He hoped Luke was annoyed. Luke bored was too creative by half.
“Preacher’s set up and waiting,” Caden said without preamble when he reached the table.
Ace spared him a glance. “Yeah?”
The muzzle of the gun slipped toward him.
“Yeah.”
Chairs scraped as a couple of patrons noticed the confrontation.
“I’m a bit underdressed for such an occasion.”
Luke pushed his hat back. “He’s got a point, Caden. A man can’t get wedded up in denims and a torn shirt.”
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