Rocky Mountain Bride (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 2)

by Lee Savino

  “When I was eighteen, a man at church caught my eye. He approached me and told me he wished to court me. He told me he would ask Thomas for my hand. But my brother said no. So I went against his wishes and courted this man anyway. One night I snuck out and met him. He tried to touch me, and I refused. So he tried to force himself on me.”

  She felt Miles stiffen beside her and shut her eyes.

  “The next day he told everyone at church I had seduced him and would bear his child. He said he would marry me if the elders required it. I was twenty-two then.”

  The bed moved, and she knew Miles was staring down at her. Somehow, she couldn’t resist opening her eyes and meeting his tawny gaze.

  “It wasn’t true,” she said. “But they believed him. What’s more, they blamed me entirely, saying it was my fault for leading him astray. The elders required us to be married, but I refused. My brother stood by me, but no one else did. Not one. For months I tried to hold my head up and defend my side, but then I just couldn’t…I left the church. I never went back.”

  Dragging in a harsh breath, she rolled on her side away from him. “My brother thought it would be better for me to leave home. He sent me to live as a helper with friends in Pennsylvania, but after a few months, they learned of my story and sent me back. They said I was a harlot, and an untoward influence on their children. Thomas didn’t know what to do. Then he received your letter, and I chose to come here. So now you know how I deceived you.”

  Silence.

  “Carrie, look at me.”

  He didn’t sound angry, so she risked a glance. Miles’ face, so serious, held only tenderness for her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I wanted a fresh start. I needed one. I tried, truly.” She blinked back tears. “If you wish to send me away, I understand.”

  “Sweet Carrie, I never want you to leave my side again.” His hand cupped her cheek, and she threw herself against his hard body, sobbing the rest of her apology while he soothed her.

  “My love, there is nothing to forgive. Let your guilt go.”

  Tears still flowed down her face when he raised her chin and kissed her.

  “No more crying,” he said, mock gruffly.

  “I thought you would be angry,” she said. “You married a whore.”

  “Carrie, you’re the furthest thing from a painted woman. And even if you were, well, love covers over a multitude of sins. Even a harsh, judgmental attitude such as mine. Though,” his tone turned serious, “I should like to thrash the man who attacked you.”

  She lay her cheek onto his bare chest with a sigh. “That’s what Thomas said.”

  “I’d like to take a horsewhip to the elders at your church, too. Did your brother not stand up for you?”

  “He did, but he was new from seminary and didn’t have the authority. Everybody believed William. Even me. He said he’d take care of me.”

  “Man breaks a vow to a woman, and violates what he’s sworn to protect, he deserves a beating. Perhaps I’ll send Lyle’s gun-slinging brother after the villain. Teach this William a lesson.”

  “Oh no.” Carrie reared up in Miles’ arms. “William said he’d find me. He enlisted before the start of the war, but he said afterward he would find me and force me to marry him.”

  He coaxed her back down and cradled her body to his. “I won’t let that happen.” He kissed her softly drying hair.

  Minutes passed while she dozed in his arms.

  “Miles?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I ran from you. You told me to never to do that.”

  He smiled. “Then I best make sure you never run again.”

  Rolling, he settled on top of her and sought her lips. “I’ll tie you up in the stables,” he said between kisses. “And train you like a wild mare.”

  Her eyes went wide.

  “You’ll learn to heed my every call.”

  “Miles.” She frowned. “You wouldn’t really do that would you?”

  “Feed you hot mash every day.”

  As her face creased with worry, Miles shied his head away. His body on hers was shaking.

  “Miles, are you laughing at me?”

  He turned his face back to her, shoulders jerking and a grin splitting his face. “Aye,” he said when he could finally speak.

  Then he lowered his head to her mouth and made her forget her indignation.

  His body pressed deliciously between her legs and she found herself undulating under him, trying to rub against him.

  “Someone’s ready for me.” He lowered his head and nipped at her neck, hitting a spot that made her spine go weak.

  She moaned his name, and he gazed down at her, fixing her with his serious stare.

  “Do you trust me, Carrie?”

  “Yes.”

  He sat up and pulled her over his lap. She went willingly, biting her lip at the thought of her punishment.

  “Let’s see,” he said, patting her bare bottom. “It’s Sunday. This week you refused to tell me why you were upset. You let me think you were ill, and when we spoke today, you lied and let me think you didn’t love me. What else?”

  “I ran from you,” she said.

  “Yes, you did.” Miles’s hand started to knead her cheeks, slapping them lightly. “I think I shall set a rule. If you run from me again,” his hand smacked down a bit harder, “I’ll hunt you down and tie you to the bed. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” Her voice went breathless as his hand dipped between her legs.

  “I’ll teach you to trust me, Carrie. It may take a life time, but it’s worth the work.”

  His palm started spanking, the blows hard enough to make a sharp sound, but they didn’t hurt much. In between, he caressed her bottom. All the smacking and rubbing made her blood rush to the apex of her thighs and she squirmed against him, feeling his member growing large against her belly.

  “You’re mine, Carrie, and I don’t want to lose you.” His hand fell a little harder, then immediately rubbed away the sting.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He rained a few more smacks on her bare cheeks, then soothed the skin. She moaned as his fingers dipped lower. “Call me Miles.”

  “Miles,” she panted.

  His fingers kept sliding into her, and then he added another hand to stroke her breasts.

  She shifted on his legs, and he smacked her bottom again, but it didn’t feel like punishment. It felt wonderful.

  “Oh, Miles,” she sighed. Her body stiffened, reaching for its climax. In another instant he pulled her up from across his knees, setting her back on her bottom. As soon as her bottom touched the blankets, she shrieked and jumped, but he gripped her hips and set her back down on the bed.

  “Not yet,” he said as she rubbed her legs together in frustration. “Open for me.”

  She obeyed and he stepped between her legs, the tall bed frame putting him at the perfect height, ready to enter her.

  “Miles, please,” she begged.

  He fisted his cock, then ran it up and down her weeping slit. She rubbed against him, and his big hand went around her neck, collaring her loosely. She didn’t feel frightened, but captive, protected.

  “You’ll not run from me again?”

  “Never. I promise.”

  He surged forward and she wrapped her legs around his powerful form. His thrusts rocked her back and forth until her climax overtook her. In the throes of pleasure, she clawed wildly at his back, and Miles shouted, then spent himself inside her.

  Pushing them both up onto the bed, Miles lay on top of her, a heavy blanket. Carrie’s hands roamed up and down his muscular length. She couldn’t get enough of him.

  “The last time I ran away, I came two thousand miles to you,” she told him. “From Providence, Rhode Island, all the way to Colorado Territory.”

  “I’m glad of it. But no more.” Miles’ tawny eyes held hers. He cupped his hand between her legs and ground the heel of his hand down, right on her aching folds. She g
roaned as her arousal started building again.

  “Never, never,” she promised and surged up to kiss him as her orgasm caught her a second time.

  They lay in each other’s arms, Miles sliding large and gentle hands over her body, while she tried to calm her ragged breathing. His fingers caught her breasts and teased them; she felt herself heat all over again.

  “Sleep now, Carrie.” Miles threw a heavy thigh over her legs and pulled her into his body. She felt totally protected and safe, and when she dropped off to sleep, she only had good dreams.

  *****

  “Morning,” she whispered.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Better.”

  Miles kissed her and left the bed, banking up the fire. He returned to the blanket’s warmth and Carrie welcomed him, wrapping her arms around his large body. She felt his length grow against her and reached down to grasp it. Her fingers slipped up and down its length.

  When his breathing became ragged, she dropped it with a wicked smile.

  “I have to do chores,” she said.

  “No. Not today. You don’t get away that easily.” He growled and rolled on top of her, pressing his cock against her until she gasped.

  “Are you going to tie me to the bed?”

  It was his turn for a wicked grin. “Maybe.”

  “Miles,” she groaned, and he sank into her, pumping a few times before withdrawing. “Where are you going?” she cried, feeling the loss.

  “See to the horses,” he said, tucking his cock into his pants.

  “Wait, no.” She launched herself at him. He caught her naked form easily, swing her into his arms.

  Laughing, he grabbed the tack he had been mending, and brought it to the bed along with his wife.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked, once he’d laid her down on her back.

  Wide eyed, she nodded.

  He took her arms and bound them together before fastening them above her, to the headboard. Her legs he secured too, tying them loosely to each other. Then he took a small strip of leather and tied it around her neck. He pulled on it, testing it. “Your halter, sweet filly.”

  Carrie’s body ached with the arousal humiliation brought with it.

  “Now,” he climbed between her legs, “I can do whatever I please with you.”

  Every part of her tightened, and she pulled at her tethers to see if they’d hold fast. Still grinning, Miles lowered his face between her legs and, in the subsequent minutes, she tested the limits of her bindings, as well as the range of her voice.

  Miles finally came up, face wet. “Next time I’ll gag you,” he said, and the thought made Carrie orgasm again.

  “Please,” she begged, rising up off the bed, her lower parts searching for his cock.

  “You want this?” His hand jerked up and down his length and she licked her lips.

  “Let me serve you,” she whispered.

  Kneeling carefully on either side of her head, he put his cock to her lips. Immediately her tongue lapped out, tasting the salty heat.

  “Not yet,” he said, holding his member away. “Beg me.”

  “Please, Miles. I want to do this for you. I love to give you pleasure. I’ll do whatever you want.”

  “Good girl,” he said, and pressed the sack at the base of his cock against her lips. “Lick.”

  Submissively, she lapped at his ballsack, lifting it and feeling the coarse hair rub against her tongue. Her eyes never left his.

  He shifted and presented her with his length, guiding her to lick all around it. Finally, he pressed his cock to her lips.

  “No teeth,” he reminded her and she opened her mouth wide, careful not to let her teeth scrape against his sensitive skin. Her tongue still worked up and down his length. Above her, Miles sighed and she felt a thrill of satisfaction.

  “Open,” he told her, and she stretched to take in more of him. For a second she felt she couldn’t breathe, and stiffened, but then he withdrew. Quickly, he untied her hands from the bedframe and helped her up. Her hands and feet still were tied together though, and he arranged her on all fours in front of him. Burning with embarrassment, she eagerly presented her lower haunches to him, begging him without words to take her.

  He didn’t hesitate, but surged inside her. Gripping her hair, he tugged her up so she arched her back and pushed against him. He used her hair like reins, never pulling too harshly, and sawed in and out of her.

  Carrie arched back further and gasped, her whole body shaking with the force of his thrusts.

  At one point he leaned down. “This is how I ride you,” he whispered, his hand slipping between her legs at the same time to find her pleasure spot. “Do you like it, wife?”

  She tried to answer, but her orgasm washed over her and turned her words into wordless cries.

  He went on his back and guided her on top of him, pulling her hips down so she sat on his cock. Her head flew back and she yelped, feeling him deeper than she’d ever felt him before. It was awhile before she could move, but when she found her wits, she rocked naturally. Miles’ hands guided her up and down.

  “This is how you ride me,” he said, and then his orgasm took him.

  She lay atop of his shuddering body, then kissed him. Rising slowly, she started to go to the fire for a rag to clean them both. The bindings gave her pause.

  “Leave them,” Miles ordered.

  “What if I fall?”

  “You may crawl. Twill be a pretty sight.”

  Carrie moaned.

  Walking carefully, she hobbled to the hearth and back. The leather strips around her feet allowed only tiny, mincing steps, and she did her best to go from the bed to the hearth without falling down.

  When she made it back, Miles opened his arms to welcome her.

  “I may keep you tied like that all week. Naked and waiting for me.”

  Her lower parts clenched at the thought.

  Miles’ rough hand found her chin and turned it to him. “I love you, Carrie.” He kissed her roughly, beard scraping her soft cheeks. “I’ll bind you to me with cords of love so you’ll never leave again.”

  *****

  That week it felt like they barely left the bed, and Carrie was sure her body would soon grow big with Miles’ child. She told him this, and he redoubled his efforts to keep her satiated and full of his seed. At night she dreamed of giving birth to a baby with tawny eyes.

  They rode to church the next Sunday, swaying together in the wagon and holding hands. When they arrived at the little white house, Miles helped Carrie down with a smile, and she waited until he unhitched the wagon and saw to the horses so they could enter arm in arm.

  They found a surprise guest as part of the growing gathering in the little parlor.

  “Mr. Martin?” Carrie greeted the shopkeeper.

  “I reckon the shop can stand to be empty for an hour or two,” Martin said. The little man looked uncomfortable in a fine vest and white shirt over his usual black slacks.

  “And we’re so glad to have you.” Esther swept in, beaming, and the shopkeeper mopped his head with his handkerchief furiously. She and Carrie shared a private smile.

  “Reverend. Martin.” Miles shook the men’s hands and then settled his wife in on a faded chaise.

  The gathering came together and the Reverend called on Miles to pray before Esther led them all in a hymn. Then the Reverend asked Carrie to read the passage. She opened her little white bible and did so, blushing and grateful for Miles’ hand skimming her back the whole time.

  The Reverend had just started his sermon when the door flew open. Everyone jumped, and Lyle stood there, clad in black and scowling.

  “I hear you want to talk to me,” he slurred, and Carrie noticed he was swaying a little on his feet. Drunk.

  “Lyle.” Miles stood.

  “No,” Lyle roared. “You’re so high and mighty with your perfect wife. Well, read this and she won’t be perfect anymore.” The man fumbled for a paper in his vest pocket.


  Behind her husband, Carrie cowered a little.

  “I have a letter from her own brother. She lay with a man before matrimony, then lied to everyone to save face.” Lyle threw the paper on the floor. “There’s your proof. Now you know what it’s like to marry a whore—”

  In a single stride, Miles made it across the room and cracked his fist into Lyle’s pretty face. Carrie yelped and the rest of the town leaped to their feet.

  The drunk man staggered back and tripped off the doorstep, with Miles following him outside the house.

  “Miles,” Carrie shrieked as Lyle regained his feet and dashed forward to plow into her husband. Miles staggered backwards, but then the tide turned and he threw Lyle off, following up with another savage blow to the tall man’s middle. Lyle crumbled over, but did not go down, and Miles stayed close, fists ready.

  The Reverend and Mr. Martin rushed outside, grabbing at Lyle and shouting at Miles. The rest of the men followed and pulled the two men apart, although they didn’t have to hold Miles for long. Carrie rushed to him and he took her into his arms.

  “Call my Mary a tart; she’s the tart,” Lyle spat at Carrie, struggling to throw off the men’s restraining arms.

  Before anyone else could do anything, Esther stepped forward and slapped him full across the face. “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.”

  “Amen,” said her husband, as Lyle sagged in his human bonds.

  *****

  “It’s my fault,” Reverend Shepherd said. “I must take at least partial blame. I wrote her brother to see if he could shed insight on why she had bad dreams. I thought only to help. I didn’t know you could write, Mrs. Donovan. And I certainly didn’t realize our mailman would act dishonorably.”

  The group of them rested in Esther’s kitchen. Lyle was upstairs, sleeping off the stupor brought on by drunkenness and Miles’ blow to his head.

  Carrie found she couldn’t hold anything against the tall Revered for long, and told him so. He smiled down at her, so kind that Carrie wondered why she was afraid to tell them all the truth.

  When they first come into the kitchen, Carrie had cried and confessed. Miles kept his arm around her the whole time.