Taming Tessa (Montana Maiden Series Book 2)
Page 1
Taming Tessa
Montana Maiden Series, Book II
By
Vanessa Vale
©2014 by Blushing Books® and Vanessa Vale
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Vale, Vanessa
Taming Tessa
eBook ISBN: 978-1-62750-627-4
Cover Design by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Table of contents:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
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CHAPTER ONE
Cole
I'd never seen Tessa Bowers more beautiful than the moment she discovered she was getting married. She was stunned, panicked and nervous. Her cheeks, bright pink with vitality, had drained of color. Her mouth, often turned up into a contrary little smile, fell open and her tongue darted out to lick her full lips. Needless to say, my thoughts took a very carnal turn at the gesture.
Ever since she'd developed her woman's body, she'd tested her feminine wiles on every man in Liberty, Montana, before ultimately setting her sights on me. Coy glances, an inappropriate brush of a hand, a brief, yet planned moment alone had been a few of her attempts to gain my attentions. Instead of the modest, demure behavior of a young miss, she was brazen, bold and devious and I'd been bewitched from the very first. The more she tried to gain my attention, however, the more I rebuffed her every effort. That didn't mean I hadn't noticed her. Hell, what man hadn't? I blatantly disapproved of her every forward gesture, snubbed her bold advances because that meant she would apply herself even harder, and I enjoyed her efforts. Her blatant innocence was endearing, as long as it was directed toward me. No one else. And until she was old enough, I waited, for she was to be mine.
But she couldn't ensnare me. I would trap her. It was the man's job to claim his bride. And today at church, I did.
"You're sure she's the one you want?" Sam asked, leaning in to whisper in my ear. "It's not too late to back out. No one would blame you. I hear Clara James has turned quite fetching in recent months."
We were standing shoulder-to-shoulder at the altar, next to Reverend Abernathy. The church was small and the pews were filled with townspeople I'd known my whole life. I could hear their soft whispers as they watched the event unfold.
I turned my head and rolled my eyes at my brother. "Clara James? If you think she's so fetching, then you have her. Tessa's mine."
I turned and watched my intended in the middle of the aisle, standing motionless between her parents. Both had a hand on one of her elbows, attempting to push her forward, but her feet held fast, even on the polished wood floor. For the first time in her life, Tessa Bowers was being forced to do something she wasn’t inclined to do. It might not be the last.
As she was being manhandled in my direction, Tessa seemed to have grasped what was about to occur. No one came up to the raised dais besides the minister unless they were about to be wed or buried. Mr. Bowers had taken care of his last responsibility toward his daughter: getting her to the altar. He'd done an exceptional job. It was obvious she had no idea this was no ordinary church service until she’d crossed the threshold to see me standing by the minister in my Sunday finery.
Stepping down, I shook Mr. Bower's limp hand, nodded to his sour-faced wife and then took Tessa by the biceps.
"This is not happening," she snapped, her voice low. She actually stomped her foot like a five-year-old, not the nineteen-year-old woman she was. She was tall, but still only came to my chin. Her hair was black as night and she had the bluest of eyes, a striking contrast that I'd never seen in another woman. Her mouth was lush and ripe, as were her womanly curves. When she spoke, however, her venomous words never failed to find their mark. I doubted she had many friends, and her parents had been quicker with a belt than a kind word. They were far from doting.
"I'm not even dressed appropriately." She leaned in close and I could see a slight hint of freckles across her nose. Her familiar floral scent drifted up to me.
"You're worried about your dress and not the man who is standing at the altar waiting for you?" I smirked at her tangled concerns.
She pursed her lips as if I’d just made a benign statement. "Of course it is you. Who else did I tempt all this time?"
Who else, indeed? No one that wished to claim and tame her like I did. Not that I'd let any of them get near her. I wanted a spirited woman. I wanted a woman with passion, with fire. I wanted Tessa.
"Regardless, this is not a convenient time. Perhaps next Sunday would be better." She sniffed and smoothed her skirts to appear unaffected. I knew otherwise.
I only arched a brow at her dictate and leaned my head down so only she could hear. "Do you want to tell the reverend about the time you cornered me in the coat closet, or should I? How about when you accidentally spilled the water pitcher on your white blouse?" It was blackmail of the lowest form, but she needed to be swayed and quickly. I'd waited long enough to make her mine.
I heard her sharp intake of breath and watched her give Reverend Abernathy a furtive glance. "You wouldn't." Her voice hissed out with her usual snap of anger.
I bent at the waist so we were eye level. Her pale blue gaze was wary, fearful, yet still defiant. The room was silent. Not even a deep breath came from the congregation, as they no doubt watched our exchange, wondering who would emerge triumphant. "It doesn't matter to me, darlin', one way or the other." I grinned. "We can stand up and get married today with everyone knowing of your forward ways, or we can just keep that to ourselves. It's your choice."
Her full mouth fell open and I could see her thinking, debating. I enjoyed watching her clever mind at work. It only took her a moment to realize she was good and trapped. "Very well, but I don't have to like it. Or you."
"You don't have to like it, but it'll sure be more enjoyable for you if you do."
With those words I stood up to my full height and held out a bent arm for her to take. The whole town had turned out to fill the back pews. My brother, Jake, and his wife, Catherine, sat in the front with my cousin Grant and his wife, Maura. Across the aisle sat Mr. and Mrs. Bowers and their oldest daughter, Henrietta, and husband. Sheriff MacKenzie leaned against one wall toward the back and gave me a knowing grin. Adam Graham, the town doctor, stood with him.
Tessa placed her dainty hand at my elbow and we stepped up to the altar. I could have sworn I heard Mr. Bowers sigh in relief.
Reverend Abernathy smiled at us both and opened his Bible. The religious portion of the service was quickly accomplished; the man knew the chances of an unwilling woman fleeing the altar were diminished if the service itself was kept brief. So within minutes, I lowered my head to kiss my bride for the first time.
Some of the congregation stood and left, while others remained. Mr. Bowers gave me a relieved nod and departed with his eldest daughter and her husband. It appeared Mrs. Bowers would stay as family witness to the final portion of the marriage ceremony.
Tessa turned toward the steps as if to depart. While her eagerness to leave with me was pleasing, we were not finished by half. She might have been mine now in the eyes of God, but she needed to be corked for me to claim her in the eyes of the town, and in my eyes as well.
Reverend Abernathy raised his eyebrows in silent question and I nodded. A week earlier, my brother Jake had married Catherine and had chosen to skip the corking at the wedding. I, however, had no such intentions. The minister held out a hand towards the bar to the right side of the altar. He often stood behind it to give his sermons, but it held another use for occasions such as this.
"We're not done, darlin','" I told Tessa.
She glanced up at me, her dark brows coming together. I gave her hand a little tug and pulled her over to the bar.
"Grab hold and don't let go." I intentionally dropped my voice to a deeper pitch and addressed her in a manner she would quickly learn meant immediate obedience on her part.
She stood directly in front of the bar and glanced over her shoulder at me in confusion. The reverend handed me a small glass jar, gave a brief nod and stepped down to stand by the sheriff.
"It's time to make you mine, darlin'." I pulled her hips back.
Of course, she resisted and squawked. Frantic eyes shot left and right. "What? Here? Now?" Her tone was shrill, panicked.
I just shook my head at her nonsense as I pulled the cork I'd chosen for this occasion out of my pocket. "Of course not. I don't fuck in public." I held up a small object for her to see.
Whispers came up from the congregation, but I doubt she heard. Only the men and married women remained to witness Tessa's corking; all children, unmarried ladies and certain family members like Mr. Bowers had left after the vows were spoken. The community of Liberty shared very specific rules that were strictly enforced, but they also kept them very closely guarded.
"It's time for your cork." A feeling akin to elation shot through me as I said those words. Like other men of Liberty, I'd been waiting a long time for this moment. Waiting with Tessa in mind, in my dreams, in my fantasies. Waiting for her to be finally, and irrevocably, mine.
Tessa's eyes widened. "My...my what?"
I placed my hands gently on her shoulders. "Your cork. All married ladies have their asses filled."
"Her a....what?" Tessa glanced furtively over her shoulder at the congregation and the married women who remained. Obviously, her mother had sheltered her well. Most ladies gave nods of encouragement, but no doubt a few who’d been subjected to Tessa's verbal barbs at one time or another were now enjoying her discomfort.
I was enjoying this immensely. Without her realizing it, she'd been pushing me toward the altar for years. Now that she had me here, I was the one now in control. She would be tamed by my hand and this would be the first step. I just had to be gentle about it, perhaps even reward her once the task was done.
Slowly, I turned her around to face the bar, grabbing her skirt at her hip as I went, slowly working the back of the garment up. She resisted, using her hands to push it back down, holding it securely in place. "No. This isn't right. I refuse." Her eyes were brilliant blue in anger. Bright slashes of color brightened her cheeks.
Leaning forward, I spoke quietly in her ear. "I'm your husband, not your parents, Tessa. You don't have to fear me."
Her blue eyes blinked, then darted toward her mother in the front row. "But...but I thought my body was for you." She flushed prettily.
"Oh, darlin', your body is just for me. I look forward to being alone so I can take you just as I've dreamed. But some things are allowed to be seen. Witnessed. Your first cork is one of them."
"But--"
"Put your hands on the bar, Tessa," I interrupted. "Be a good girl and when everyone's gone, I'll give you a special treat."
With shaking fingers, she acquiesced and grasped the wood. Once again, I pulled her hips back and unceremoniously pushed her skirt up in back. The front remained in place, long down to the tips of her shoes so she remained covered from the view of the congregation.
"They might know what I'm doing, darlin', but no one can see," I leaned in and murmured. Most of the men had been in just my position before and all the women had been in Tessa's place. MacKenzie and the other unmarried men in the room were probably considering how they'd tackle this situation when their turn came.
I undid the tie on her white cotton drawers and let them slip down to the floor. Oh, she was lovely. Her skin was a pure, alabaster white. The round globes of her ass were a perfect heart shape and I could see just a glimpse of her pussy peeking out. Gripping one hip, I pulled her back even more.
There. That's just how I wanted her. I took a moment - I'd earned it after the years of waiting - to look my fill. Her pussy lips were dark pink, a striking contrast to the dark hair that surrounded it. And her tight rosebud was so perfect and ready to be stretched.
I leaned forward again. "So beautiful, darlin'." Goose bumps rose on her delicate skin. She was not unaffected.
I dipped my fingers in the jar of ointment, placed one hand on her hip and touched her ass.
"Oh, Cole," she cried out, her hips shifting at the contact.
Without waiting nor offering her time to fight me, I pushed my greased finger gently into her hole. I circled a bit, but didn't linger to let her relax. I knew she wouldn't no matter how gently I worked her. So I fought the muscles there and pushed my way in. Her ass was no competition for my probing fingers and I slipped in to my first knuckle. At the same time, I slid my thumb forward to find her clitoris, hard and protruding from her folds. She gasped at the contact. Had she never touched herself there before? Was this a completely new sensation for her? The idea made me very possessive.
She thrashed her head as I worked her front and back, her hair coming out of its pins and she cried out. Taking the cork I'd chosen for this occasion--a small one that would acknowledge my dominance of her but not too large as to scare her--I coated it with additional ointment from the jar, then pushed it against the tight opening.
With one one hand strumming her clit, I didn't need to hold her down. I worked the cork into her carefully, forward and back until it slid into place. Shaped like a wooden spool for thread, it stretched her ass open, but did not go into her deeply. She groaned at the intrusion, yet didn't move away because she'd miss the brush of my fingers against her greedy clit. I tugged on the cork once, twice, to make sure it was secure and seated, and then ran a fingertip around the stretched ring of muscle to make sure it wasn't hurting her. Discomfort was expected and anticipated, but pain was not.
"Like that, darlin'?" I flicked her clit ever so gently.
"Mmm," she murmured.
I was more than pleased with the final result, the cork peeking out, her clit responding so eagerly. I'd assumed Tessa would put up a fight; I'd never witnessed a corking where the woman didn't. She was used to having her way and I knew that unless I took control from her right now, she'd think to continue with her highhanded ways. One way to curb that was a good old-fashioned corking. An easier way was to bring her pleasure. To have her focused on
that and the small plug I inserted, she wouldn't have a thought to anything else.
The cork I chose was not overly wide, and stretched her ass only slightly. It also sank into her only about an inch, not too deep, but just enough for her to feel full. She wouldn't complain. Now that she knew the women in town were in a similar predicament, she no doubt knew she'd get no sympathy.
Her parents were miserable people and made the lives of those around them equally miserable, including Tessa. But I was nothing like them, and under my protection, I had hopes she'd flourish. She could learn to be herself without the fear of cruel repercussion her parents meted out. While she would quickly recognize I took charge of her body, she would find pleasure, and ultimately freedom, in that. She'd all but been begging me to take control since that first time she worked her wiles on me, not that she was aware that was what she'd been doing.
I nodded to the congregation who'd stayed to witness the corking. They stood and worked their way outside. Soon the church was empty save for Tessa and myself. The next, her reward, was for me and me alone.
"You've been very brave, Tessa," I told her, who was still bent forward. "Now you get your treat." I brushed my fingers over her pussy, her folds beautifully damp from her arousal, then found her clit once again. "Have you ever touched yourself here before?"
She shook her head. "N...no."
"Do you like it?"
"Oh, yes, Cole." Her voice was breathy. Even bent forward as she was, I could tell she breathed hard. With my other hand, I slipped one finger into her tight pussy. She cried out.
"I want you to come for me, darlin'. You've been such a good girl."
It didn't take long, mere seconds of working her, my finger sliding in and out, just up to my first knuckle as not to damage her maidenhead, while circling her clit, She came, her back arching, her hips thrust back to gain more contact, to make the pleasure last. She groaned as her inner walls milked my finger. My cock throbbed against the tight confines of my pants. It wanted to feel that hot, wet squeeze. Once sated, I brushed her skirts off her back and they fell to the floor, covering her once again.