The Surrender of Lacy Morgan

by Suzanne Ferrell

  Riding the man beneath her, she watched the other man open his trousers and pull out an equally swollen cock. Gaze locked on her, Dakota fisted his hand around his manhood and began pumping himself, matching her movements.

  “Faster,” Quinn moaned in her ear, his breath fanning the skin of her neck, his hands moving her hips. The desperate edge to his voice spurred her to increase the pace more than his words or hands.

  And she gave in to her own need. Gripping his cock with her woman’s heat, she ground down on him hard. His hands replaced hers on her breasts, pinching and pulling her nipples, taking her higher.

  Dakota’s impassioned moans mixed with Quinn’s as she wrapped her hands behind her neck and drove them faster, harder and higher to the precipice.

  Suddenly, her body arched, strung as tight as a bow, her head thrown back on Quinn’s shoulder. She came.

  “Oh God, yes!”

  “Yes, pet, come for us!” Quinn groaned, his cock spasming inside her, jets of his seed coating her deep.

  “Uhng, yes!” Dakota moaned from behind them, his cock spurting its release over his hand.

  Another spasm and then a third shook her body. Quinn held her tight against him, murmuring his praise into her ears, coaxing yet one more spasm from her before she fought to suck air into her lungs.

  “You were magnificent.” He grasped her chin and turned her head, claiming her lips in a soul-searing kiss. Closing her eyes, she tasted his passion and his pride in that kiss, trying not to think how she’d succumbed so easily to her body’s shameful lust.

  A few minutes later, Dakota, clean and re-dressed, cleared his throat. “We have a problem.”

  * * * * *

  Sated, her wounds cleaned and re-bandaged, Lacy slept in the other bedroom while Quinn listened to what Dakota had discovered in town.

  During dinner, he’d watched every move Lacy made, wishing he could take her back into the bedroom and bury himself deep in her heat once more. But when Dakota removed her dressing and he saw the condition of her shoulder—the inflamed red tissue and small dots of blood oozing from the edges of her wounds—he knew she needed to rest.

  “The sidewinder said he was looking for a woman wearing a necklace matching the one Lacy wears,” Dakota said.

  “A bounty hunter?” All Quinn’s attention snapped to his blood brother.

  “He told the storekeeper she was his wife, but no doubt that was a lie.”

  Even if he didn’t believe Lacy was married, Dakota’s declaration that the other man lied confirmed it. No one could get a lie past him.

  Dakota paused as he used a soapstone to sharpen the Arkansas toothpick he carried strapped in a sheath sewn into his knee-high moccasins. “He did seem to know too much about her to be just a bounty hunter working on the right side of the law.”

  “Devil’s man?”

  “My guess, yes.”

  “Where’s the body?”

  “On his way to Beaver Run, Montana.”

  “You let him go? And you sent him to the town where we found Lacy?”

  “Seemed like as good a place as any for him to travel, and we know it’ll take three days there and three back. Two each way if he pushes it.” He shrugged then slipped the giant knife into its sheath. “Better to let him chase after his tail than tip our hand. Think about it. We kill one of Devil’s men or lock him up in the town’s pokey, word could get back before we’re ready to take down the gang. We don’t know how many men Devil sent after our pet.”

  “You’re right. But I still would’ve killed him and hidden his body out in the mountains somewhere.”

  “Don’t think I wasn’t tempted.”

  “Hope he doesn’t circle back and cause us trouble later.”

  “How long until you think Lacy’s ready?”

  Dakota knew as well as he did their plan to ride into Devil’s camp hinged on Lacy trusting them and obeying them above everything, including her fear of her stepfather’s retribution.

  “Tonight was a major step for her. She’s just about there. Another few days should do the trick.”

  “Good. She needs a few days of rest off the trail to let those wounds heal before we head into that den of snakes or she’ll never survive it.”

  “She’s stronger than she looks, Dakota.” Quinn pulled out the bottle of whiskey he carried in his saddlebag and poured them both two fingers’ worth. “Why do you suppose Devil would send someone to track one lone woman?”

  Dakota took the glass he offered him. “Between her exotic beauty and her natural submissiveness, Lacy’s a treasure any man would want to possess.”

  That made sense. Over the years he’d seen more than one man go crazy because a woman he wanted to own had fled. As much as he enjoyed the game of controlling Lacy’s sexuality, she wasn’t an object to be owned or enslaved. Their conversation earlier this evening had shown how independent she was. Also, Lacy swore she never allowed Devil close enough to force himself on her. “There’s something else going on. My gut tells me so.”

  Dakota paused, his whiskey halfway to his lips. “We’d better figure it out before we get to the camp. Or none of us will make it out of there alive.”

  Quinn nodded. Cap had taught them years ago to avoid surprises.

  “Know your quarry, boys. Even the smallest detail can be important when you’re hunting an outlaw. The only surprise should be you getting the drop on them, not the other way around.”

  So what detail had he missed about Lacy and Devil’s gang? He had a few days to ferret it out of her.

  “Did you send the telegrams?”

  Dakota nodded. “Ian’s still in Chicago.”

  “And Nicco?”

  “He’s in Santa Fe. My guess he should be here about the same time as Ian.”

  Over the years, Cap had adopted other orphaned boys, bringing them to the ranch to live. They’d been known by everyone in the surrounding area as “Cap’s boys”. The five of them had grown up to be as close as brothers. Their love and respect for Anson and Juanita bound them tighter than blood ever could.

  “And Will?”

  “Will’s got foaling and cattle breeding going on at the ranch. But you know he’ll be here as soon as he gets the message.”

  Quinn studied Dakota. The five of them had sworn to bring Cap’s killers to justice together, but this bounty hunter or member of Devil’s gang looking for Lacy just moved their timeline up.

  “So our choice is we head out on our own or wait around Goldwater a full week for the others to join us and pray Devil doesn’t leave on another raid or disappear altogether now that the mountain passes have thawed.”

  “Or one of his men finds Lacy first,” Dakota added, reading his thoughts. “I’ll start searching the woods for the right plants while Lacy rests. Should have enough by the time you’re ready to leave.”

  “Three days. We’ll leave word for Ian and Nicco to follow, but in three days’ time the three of us will ride into hell.”

  “You’re sure Lacy will be ready to do her part?”

  A knot clenched in his chest. “No matter if she’s a hundred percent ready or not, she’ll face Devil and willingly put herself in his hands.”

  Chapter Eight

  Curled in a deep cocoon of warmth, Lacy snuggled back against the solid log of heat pressed along the length of her back. She started to drift back to sleep when a hand—a man’s warm hand—settled on her hip.

  “Quinn,” she murmured, floating back into consciousness.

  “It’s me, darlin’,” he whispered in her ear. His warm breath fanned her cheek and neck. The scent of whiskey wafted over to tease her nose.

  Accustomed to sleeping in his or Dakota’s arms the past few nights, she eased back against him. The warmth of his body and his protective presence relaxed her further. Secure. Four days and nights with the two lawmen and she felt safer than she had since living in New Orleans with her mama as a child. Before the war brought Devil.

  Quinn slid his hand over her hip to
her abdomen, trailing his fingers up to cup her breast, erasing all thoughts of her vile stepfather.

  She tried to twist around to face him.

  “Don’t move, darlin’,” he said, increasing his grip on her breast and the weight of his arm holding her in place. “Don’t want to ruin Dakota’s hard work and open your wounds again.”

  As her body relaxed against him once more, he nibbled on her earlobe, sending tendrils of delight skating over her body. The heat between her thighs flared and spread in all directions.

  “He was very gentle…” She sucked in a breath as his lips slid down the column of her neck, making the chains of her collar gently scrape her flesh. “When he re-dressed it.”

  “Did you thank him properly?”

  “Properly?” What did he mean? The sensations he created over her skin confused her sleep-muddled brain.

  “A warm, sexy kiss is always the best way to thank a man for caring for you.” He slipped his hand to her opposite cheek and slowly turned her head, sliding his lips over hers, teasing with his tongue until she was breathless. “Did it excite you?”

  “When he was fixing my shoulder?” Why was he asking something so odd?

  “No. When you saw him watching us fucking earlier? Did it excite you? Did it make you come even harder knowing you were pleasing us both?” He slipped his hand down between her thighs to stroke her pulsing sex. “Did watching him pleasure himself as he watched you ride my cock thrill you here?”

  She wanted to protest. To deny the truth in his questions. But she couldn’t lie to him or herself, especially since he’d seen her response.

  “Yes.” Her mind filled with the image of the woman impaled on the thick cock, the sheen of desire flushing her skin as she fulfilled her lust on one man and watched her other lover in the mirror.

  “You see it now, don’t you?” He lifted her thigh and slipped his leg between hers. The hard thickness of his cock pressed into her moist folds. “The woman taking control of her two lovers’ pleasure. Of her own.”

  He knew the lust inside her, the need she wanted to keep hidden.

  “You want to please us both, don’t you?” he demanded as he slid deeper inside her, holding her still as he filled her.

  Damn him. How could he force her to admit what she was? A whore like her mother. And damn him, she had enjoyed pleasing them both.

  “Yes. God, yes.” She shifted her hips and drew him into her, clenching and pulling with the core of her being.

  No more words or questions came from him as he held her firmly against his body and drove himself in and out of her, pushing them closer and closer to the edge of reality.

  He swirled his tongue over her ear. “Come for me,” he growled, then bit down on her earlobe.

  The sudden pain shattered her control—her body spasmed and her moans filled the room. Quinn clenched her tight to him, the warmth of his seed filling her sending another spasm through her.

  After a few moments, Lacy relaxed back against him once more. His arms held her fast, his breath slow and steady. Sated and drowsy, she listened to him sleep.

  What manner of man was this? Demanding at one turn, tender at another. He delighted in controlling her body, but also listened when she spoke her mind. And though he seemed to want to have her passions to himself, he didn’t hesitate to share her with his friend.

  What was wrong with her? She wanted to escape, didn’t she? She’d tried, at least that first day. Now? All she seemed to want to do was be held by these two men.

  Oh, they planned to turn her over to the territorial judge at the end of this trip. She didn’t doubt it for a moment. Of course, if they did it would mean they’d somehow kept Devil from killing her and had brought him to justice.

  And wasn’t that what she wanted?

  Justice.

  For those innocent people in Cheyenne. For the others they’d robbed and killed. For Mama.

  And if anyone could punish Devil for the things he’d done, it certainly was Quinn and Dakota.

  Her whole life she’d dealt with the worst kind of men. Their own needs came first. Their only loyalty to themselves or their leader. No law, no woman mattered. They’d turn on each other if it meant moving higher in the gang. A pack of coyotes.

  Running her hand softly over Quinn’s arm wrapped around her waist, she snuggled deeper into his body, her mind considering him and his partner.

  She’d never met men like them. They were as close as brothers. On the trail she’d watched them communicate a time or two by just a look. They’d both used her body to keep her in a constant state of excitement or exhaustion. Off balance. Unsure what they’d do next.

  Had years of experience given them this sort of communication and trust? Or was it something more? Something deeper?

  What kind of bond held them so close?

  * * * * *

  Dakota threw his arm over his eyes and stretched in the bed. Lacy’s cries of ecstasy and Quinn’s groan of completion from the other room filled his mind. His cock strained at the memory of her riding his brother and the release all three of them had found earlier in the day. He gripped it tight to keep from coming in the clean sheets. The next time he shot his seed, he planned to be buried deep in Lacy’s depths.

  It was part of Quinn’s plan, that Lacy would follow Quinn’s commands. She would pleasure him because his brother desired it. And by obeying Quinn’s wishes, her confidence in her body and skills would grow. She’d be one step closer to facing the demon of her stepfather and his gang.

  But would Quinn be able to give her the command to put her in Devil’s hands? Each day he’d watched his brother grow closer to the sultry beauty. Quinn’s heart was no longer cold and bent on avenging Cap’s murder at all costs. He might not realize it, but something had changed inside him.

  It was one thing to ask the woman of his heart to service the brother who shared his blood and his darkest secret. Another to ask her to go with a man who meant to harm her. Even if it was the only way to capture the demon.

  * * * * *

  Santos guided his horse over the mountain trail heading north toward the Wyoming Territory border. He shivered in the cold mountain air and cursed the bitch for not hiding in a big city, somewhere warm.

  No, stupid puta goes to a podunk town to hide.

  Last night the tall half-breed had informed him he’d seen a woman matching Lacy’s description in the town of Beaver Run. After spending the night with the two willing whores at the best of the three saloons, he’d headed out first thing this morning.

  If his luck held he’d find the redheaded bitch before any of the others Devil sent on her trail.

  A slow smile split his lips.

  The fools thought all Devil wanted was his stepdaughter back. They were willing to find her for the pittance their leader offered for reward.

  But he knew better.

  Finding Lacy Morgan had more benefits than any of them could imagine. Heat surged to his cock as he remembered taking her virginity. Hot. Tight. Sensual. The feel of her soft body beneath him as he pounded into her made him throb even more at the memory.

  Oh yes. He’d use her more. Maybe even auction her off after he got what he really wanted from her. The same thing her stepfather wanted.

  And only Lacy knew where it was hidden.

  * * * * *

  Devil stumbled out of the whore’s hut into the cold morning air, squinting at the rising sun. Years ago, before Ruby’s death, he’d brought the three women to live in the camp to rut with his men and keep the peace.

  Damn Ruby for dying. Just like the bitch to leave him high and dry. Now he was forced to slake his own lust with the overused sows.

  As the sun cleared the mountaintop, he smiled. Soon, he’d have Lacy back again. Just the thought of her warmed his cock. He glanced to his right to see the whipping post he’d erected months ago, just for her.

  He could still see her hanging there, arms tied over her head, stripped naked for all his men to see. Her golde
n skin glistening in the sun as he lifted the lash and whipped her flesh.

  Swish.

  Snap.

  “Aggh!” she screamed, nearly pulling her arms out of their sockets as she twisted to get away from the pain.

  Her efforts and pain excited him.

  “Tell me where it is.”

  She panted, her breasts heaving with the effort. His men whooping and hollering at her pain and nakedness.

  She shot him an angry look over her naked shoulder. “It’s gone.”

  “It’s mine!” He drew back his arm, the whip whistling in the air again.

  “Ungh,” she moaned this time, her body jerking as the welts striped her back.

  “You’ll tell me or I’ll cut you to ribbons, girl!” He lifted his arm again.

  Lash after lash he’d worked her flesh. As she continued to refuse to tell him where she’d hidden the treasure, the more obsessed he’d become. The more punishment she took, the more excited he’d been.

  Finally, she passed out, hanging like a limp rag doll from her tethers to the post. Santos had convinced him to let her body heal and try again another day.

  The plan had been a good one, except they’d all underestimated the whore.

  The following morning, he’d decided it was time she took her mother’s place in his bed, only to find her hut empty and her horse gone. To top it off, she’d managed to leave the valley just before a winter storm closed off the pass.

  Maddocks stumbled out to take a piss on the bushes near the cabin he shared with several others.

  Devil motioned him over.

  “What’s u-up, b-boss?” Maddocks asked in that half stutter he had.

  “Get your horse, I have a job for you.”

  As the man scrambled to the barn for his horse, Devil scratched his chest and licked his lips. The pass had finally melted and his men scoured the countryside looking for the bitch. Soon she’d be back and tied to the pole.

  * * * * *

  “Hold still, pet.”

  Seated on the bed the next afternoon, Lacy held the shirt Quinn had given her over her breasts, her back naked except for the bandages. The day before, the material had stuck to the gooey poultice Dakota had covered her wounds with and she braced for the pulling and prickles of pain about to occur.