by Reece Butler
“I shouldn’t watch him working,” she said to herself. “But my, oh, my…” Another perfect arc and two more pieces of wood flew away.
Even though they’d shared a bed, perhaps Gabe was still too shy to touch her unless she started it? After breakfast she’d washed and changed into a blouse which buttoned up the front. It had a matching skirt with only one button, on her left hip. Without a shift, her blouse chafed against her nipples. With every step, her thighs rubbed. Knowing she was naked underneath made her wet, and aroused, and needy.
Unless she did something drastic, Gabe might stay outside. Therefore, she had to take the bull by the horns. A smile curled up one side of her lips. More like, take the bull by the cock.
Once more she watched him lift his arms and bring them down. But this time, the chunk of wood wobbled just before he hit it. The heavy weapon hit a glancing blow and went sideways. Gabe’s arms, and his body, went along with it. He twisted and fell, his left side landing on the stump. She heard him grunt as she flew out the door. He rolled himself to a sitting position.
“Gabe! Are you hurt?”
She knelt behind him. White lines crisscrossed his back. Whip scars? She rested her right hand on his damp back. He jerked. She lightly touched the new scratches with her left. He shuddered. A low groan emerged from deep in his chest.
“It’s nothing,” he growled. “Go back in the house so I can finish work.”
His heart pounded under her left hand. Her nipples rose in response. She flicked open her blouse, button by button. She stood up and shrugged it off. A moment later her skirt dropped on the dirt. The sun warmed her naked breasts and belly. She lifted her breasts, thumbing the nipples at him.
“I’ve got a job that needs doing. Right here.”
He turned his head. His eyes zeroed in on her nipples. They tightened in response. He gulped.
“I didn’t get a good look at you the other night,” he whispered. “You’re even more beautiful than I thought.”
She moved her boots farther apart. A light breeze stroked her pussy hair. She shivered in need. “Maybe you’d better use more than your eyes. You might miss something.”
He worked at his boot laces while he looked her over. He kicked them off and stood up.
“You’re right. I think I’d better take a long, good look at that body of yours. Maybe taste a few parts. There’s some places I’m sure I missed the other night.”
He unbuttoned his pants and slipped them down his legs. His huge, dark cock bobbed in the sun. A large drop glistened on tip of his purple head. She knelt at his feet and leaned forward to hold him.
“Oh, God, Sarah!”
She dropped her head and licked the drop off. His whole body shuddered. His reaction made her feel powerful. She gently brushed his balls with her hand, making him moan. She let her nipples brush against the hair on his thighs. Her pussy hummed in response. She held his cock with her hand and flicked her tongue over it. She opened her mouth and guided him in, until the mushroom head just passed her teeth.
He groaned and gently placed his hands on either side of her head. She smiled in her mind, knowing he enjoyed it so much. She ran her tongue around him, savoring the salty musk of clean male sweat. He tried to pull back, but she gripped him tighter. With her other hand, she squeezed his balls.
“Sarah, I’m going to come. I don’t want to—”
She backed her head away just enough to speak. “Come in my mouth, Gabe. I want to taste all of you.” She sucked him deeper this time. She bobbed her head, letting her teeth lightly rasp against his flesh. His hips bucked.
She squeezed his balls once more and then used both hands to hold his cock. She held her mouth open just far enough for his cock to ride over her tongue. He shuddered, and she tasted his explosion. She swallowed and backed away, her hands still tight on him. He continued to erupt, splashing on her breasts. She caught his cock between them, using the fluid to glide between them. He slowed, his gasps turning into a rough laugh.
“I don’t know where that came from,” he said, “but can we do it again?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Oz heard voices as he approached the cabin midafternoon. They came from the new section, so he followed around to the back door. Deep laughter stopped him in his tracks. Gabe? Laughing?
“If you catch me a few rabbits, I’ll make pie for supper,” said Sarah.
“What’ll we have for dessert?”
He didn’t catch her low murmur, but Gabe chuckled and then Sarah squealed. Oz did a quick about-face and made his way to the old cabin door.
“Well, hot damn,” he muttered to himself. “Guess I got some time to kill.”
He washed up and leaned against his back against the old cabin door. He sighed. If Daisy was there he could rub her ears, scratch her belly, and feel wanted. But she was still with Billy and Daniel at the MacDougal ranch.
Sarah’s laugh floated across the yard again. Oz jammed his eyes and jaw shut. He set his tight fists on his knees, his heart aching. The first time he remembered hearing a woman laugh, freely and joyfully, was only two years ago. He was jawing with Frank Chambers outside the jail when Trace Elliott brought his new bride to town. Trace lifted Beth down from the wagon and gave her a sizzling kiss. When they came up for air, Trace said something to Beth that made her throw her head back and laugh.
Oz remembered the joyful sound and Beth’s wide smile. He’d heard women laugh before, lots of them. But never a carefree, no-holds-barred, loving laugh. It was the first time he considered the possibility of a wife. He’d immediately shoved the thought away, of course. He wasn’t the type to marry. How could he be a good husband and father when the only thing he learned growing up was how to avoid his father’s fists? By the time he came along, the last of eight children, his mother had as much backbone as a worm.
Sarah had a backbone, all right, and she wasn’t afraid to push for what she needed. She’d stand up to anyone who threatened her children, even their father. He’d never back away from a fight, or raise his hand to a woman or child. He looked at the fingers that made Sarah cry with delight. He’d be far better off coming home and pleasuring her than fighting over an insult by someone who didn’t matter.
But for how long would she want him? From what he’d just heard, she seemed happy with Gabe’s attention, and he was the marrying kind. Now that she was at the Circle C, would she want Gabe more than him?
He owed Gabe his life. If he wanted Sarah to himself, that would be one hell of a pain in the balls. But if Gabe didn’t mind sharing, and Sarah was eager, what the hell was he doing sitting on the step when he could be kissing her?
He stood up, shook out his legs, and settled his hat. He whistled loudly as he strolled around the side of the cabin. Gabe stepped down from the new kitchen. He blushed, which confirmed what he’d been doing while Oz was away.
“You’re back early,” said Gabe. He cleared his throat.
“Sarah okay?”
“Yep.”
Gabe crossed his arms and leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb. He looked more relaxed than Oz had ever seen him. Amazing what making sweet love with a good woman on your own ranch could do for a man. Oz was eager to find out what it would do for him.
“Need you to do something for me,” said Gabe.
Oz cursed to himself. He waited to be told to chase cows from the mountains so Gabe and Sarah could be alone.
“Sarah’s got a list of things she needs from town.”
Going to town was better than chasing cattle. He sighed. He had Sarah duty tomorrow. He could wait until then to touch her if he had to. He told his cock to shut up and banked his disappointment.
“I’ll saddle up again.”
“Nope,” said Gabe. “I know what the lady wants from town. You don’t. Can you stay near and keep an eye on her?” Gabe snickered. “Or both eyes, now that you’ve tossed that patch.”
Oz gulped. His cock jumped, as did his heart.
“You sure?”
“Sarah? You all right with Oz staying near while I go to town?”
She came to the door to answer Gabe’s question. She’d shoved her short hair behind her ears. She had a fair bit of pink on her cheeks. She also had a set of nipples that pushed out the thin cotton of her dress. Was she naked underneath? Did she want something more?
Please let it be today. I want that ass of hers so bad…
“You changed your dress.” He almost croaked the words.
“After breakfast,” she replied. She flicked her eyes around the yard. “I was hoping to get a laundry going, but perhaps I’ll do that tomorrow.”
“I’ll be back for supper,” said Gabe.
He walked past with a new bounce in his step. Oz waited for his steps to fade. Sarah ducked back inside. Oz carefully hitched up his pants and followed. He looked around the neatly swept room. It looked a lot bigger with walls and a roof than when it was just a foundation. Sarah fiddled with her apron.
“You’ve been busy,” he said.
“Gabe dug the garden and chopped wood. I just tidied up a bit.”
“Anything you want moved from the cabin? It might be a few days before we get the door cut.”
“Gabe brought the table in.”
She turned away, but not before he saw the blush that covered her cheeks. She waited, half turned away, fidgeting with something in her hands. He stepped behind her, close, but not quite touching. She held a tin cup of lard.
Oh, yeah!
“You thinking about what happened last time we got close to a table?”
He whispered the words against her neck, slowly and gently. She trembled. He took that as a yes. He rested his hands on her hips. Her warm skin proved there was only one thin layer of cotton between his skin, and hers.
“I’ve got something new to try with you. Remember how much you liked it when I put my finger here?”
He slid his thumbs together and down, tracing the crack of her ass. He separated her cheeks and rubbed one thumb against her pucker. Only a thin layer of cotton held him from entering her. She clenched her ass cheeks, catching his thumb.
“We’ll go slow and steady. I’ll stretch you with my fingers, and grease you up with that lard. All the time I’ll be sucking and kissing all the rest of you. When I slide my cock past these cheeks, you’re going to explode.” He took a few breaths. “That what you want?”
She dropped her head back in silent encouragement. He said a silent prayer of thanks and nipped the exposed skin on her neck. She inhaled a gasp. He kissed it better and moved on to nibble her earlobe while sliding his hands up to caress her breasts. Her nipples jutted into his palms. He rotated them, squeezing them together.
“Don’t move,” he whispered. He stripped, throwing everything into a pile in the corner. “That’s much better. Now it’s your turn.”
She turned around. Her eyes went directly to his cock. She bit the corner of her lip, and then swallowed. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled. His cock jumped.
“I want you to strip for me. Slowly. Show me what you’ve got, angel.”
Watching her was delightful agony. She teased him, touching the button which would reveal her breasts, and then moving to the bottom, or top of her shirt. She turned her back to him when there was only one button left. A shrug, and she was topless.
She lifted her skirts, swishing them side to side, slowly revealing her legs as she lifted. His cock bounced along with his heartbeat, fast and hard. When her skirt was all bunched up around her waist, he leaned forward, eager for a view of her pussy. But she dropped her skirts and touched the last button.
Finally, she was naked. The light was better than it had been the first night, but not good enough.
“Outside.”
“What?” She whipped around, eyes wide. She covered her breasts with one hand, her pussy curls with the other.
So, she hadn’t done this before, and was shy about it. Good. She’d do a few new things today. He’d stretch her limits as well as her ass.
“You heard me. Out.”
She shook her head. He shrugged and walked around her. He walked around to the old cabin and collected an old soft quilt and her pallet. He stuck a blanket and pillow under his arm and carried them to the relative safety of the side yard.
Still no woman appeared. He took his time, first placing the pallet and then spreading the quilt just so. He rolled the pillow in the blanket and set it aside. Still no Sarah. He set his feet wide, crossed his arms, and faced the door. His cock pointed straight ahead.
“You coming out, or do I have to come in and get you?”
Silence.
“I’ll count to three. One.”
Knowing she would be watching, he rubbed his hands.
“Two.”
He slapped the fingers of his left hand on the palm of his right, suggesting what would happen if she didn’t cooperate. Not that he’d hurt her, or do anything that would frighten her. No, he’d just test her limits. He rolled his shoulders and lifted his foot to take a step.
“Fine!”
She stood in the doorway wearing nothing but stockings and boots. The building provided shade from the midafternoon sun, and he wanted to see every freckle, dimple, and scar. He gestured to their makeshift bed and waited. She huffed for a moment, but stepped onto the dirt. He raised his eyebrows and beckoned her forward with both hands. He couldn’t help the wide grin that stretched his mouth damn near to his ears.
She gave him a look a mule would be proud of. She set her shoulders back, fists at her side and stomped toward him. Her breasts jiggled wonderfully, making his balls tight. If he had a choice, she’d be walking around naked as often as possible.
“You make me so damn glad I’ve got both eyes to see you with.”
She lost a bit of her pout. She stopped a couple of feet away. He looked from her long white neck to the large pink nipples staring at him. He took his time, watching her nipples crinkle even tighter. He dropped his eyes to her dark curls. She shifted her feet farther apart. The flesh of her inner thighs glistened.
“Turn around. Slowly.”
She clasped her fingers together and dropped her head.
“I have a scar,” she said quietly. “On my left hip.”
Everyone had scars, unless they’d been pampered all their lives. But this one must mean something to her. Evidence of the abuse she’d suffered in Bannack City?
“That what you rub when you’re nervous?”
“I do that?”
Her wide eyes, now flecked with honey and dark brown, hit him straight on. He needed to get some arousing green to appear. He nodded. “Show me.”
She turned sideways. A small mark, not even an inch long, marred her skin. He put one knee on the ground and looked closely at it.
“It’s a capital ‘I,’ for Isaac,” she said. “That’s the name used by the man who put it there.”
A rush of white-hot fury erupted from deep inside. Oz clenched every muscle in his body in an effort to stay still. Someone had purposely marked his woman. Had burned his mark into her tender flesh as a reminder of ownership. If he showed his rage, he would not only destroy his plans for the afternoon, but he might frighten her.
“Gabe said to think of it as if I’d burned myself on a stove while bathing nearby. But sometimes it’s hard to do when I know what really happened.”
The pain in her voice almost broke him. His rage was misplaced. It was not about someone marking his woman. Sarah was her own person, his to protect and cherish, but not own. His rage was for the man who thought he could harm women, marking them as his personal property as if they were animals.
“You feel shame from being marked.”
He looked up at her. She pressed her lips together and nodded. He kissed the spot, gently and tenderly. She sighed and rested her hands on his head. He pressed his face against her belly and held her for a long moment. How could he convince her she w
asn’t guilty when he was still trying to live with his own shame?
He stood up and swept her into his arms. She squawked in surprise but didn’t complain. He sat in the middle of the pallet with her in his lap. He looked at the hills, still green from spring rains and snowmelt. He and his two partners owned it all. They also owned cattle and horses, chickens and pigs. But they would never, ever, own a person.
She needed him. Needed to know she wasn’t the only one, and it didn’t matter.
“I was the youngest boy after a couple of girls. Because there was five years between me and my next older brother, I was a lot smaller, and weaker. Worse, I was the only boy to have curls like my ma and sisters. Pa said I was a useless pretty boy. So he, and my brothers, beat me from the time I could walk until I left home.”
She tensed, but said nothing.
“When I was about eight, I realized he did it partly to mark me as his property. When I walked around with cuts and bruises that he’d given me, it made him feel like a man.”
“It’s bad enough when two men fight each other to prove their manhood,” said Sarah. “Doing it to a helpless child, especially your own son, is terrible!”
“Should I be ashamed of the marks my father beat into me?”
“Of course not! He’s the one who should be ashamed. You had nothing to do…with…it. ” She blinked at him a few times. “Oh.” She wet her lips with her tongue. “You’re saying that it’s the same with my burn.”
He nodded. “My face was banged up even before I got this.” He pointed to his eye.
Sarah brushed his belly with her fingertips. His cock twitched. She blinked and watched it swell. He set her on the quilt and went after the lard. She’d left it on the table, right in the middle. He put a few fingers’ worth on a plate and carried it out.
She sat, legs apart, leaning back on her hands so the sun warmed her. A tantalizing glimpse of swollen pussy lips protruded from between her thighs. He knelt and walked his fingers from her knees to her curls. He stroked her, separating her inner and outer lips. She had a neat little pussy, with her inner lips small enough to fit inside the outer. It looked like a sliced bun. The outside was lovely, but what flavored the inside was what he needed.
