“Angus. It wouldn’t be right for you to get me drawers. What would the other women say?”
“They’d say that I’m a husband who enjoys my wife. I don’t give a hoot what those damn women have to say. If I want to buy you nice underthings, then that’s just what I’ll do. Clear?”
She swallowed. “Yes, Sir.”
It’d been a while since she’d been spoiled. If ever. Matt had been kind and generous, but wasn’t one for spending on frivolous things like ribbons, candy sticks, and such.
Those large hands that frightened her on more than one occasion came up to cup her breasts, her nipples tightening into stiff peaks under the calluses, the roughness of his skin increasing her arousal. Staring at his large, flat nail beds, the cracks and crevices filled with dirt, made her sex pulse even harder. She loved his hands. So gentle, yet hard. They could stroke lovingly, the knuckles brushing across the sensitive flesh, yet they were plenty hard enough to reduce her to sobs when wielded as instruments of discipline.
He leaned forward while the one hand kneaded and massaged her flesh, turning the alabaster skin pink under the roughness and ferocity of his squeezing. He turned her other breast up, taking her deep into his mouth. He sucked on the nipple, the muscles in her womb tightening, making her jerk and moan. He pulled away, leaving her nipple a deep shade of rose now glistening with his saliva, her wet flesh catching the golden flicker of the candlelight. He blew on the moist skin, and she tightened her grip on his shoulders, her hips thrusting in response.
“Oh, darlin’, we’re going to have some fun here tonight. That feels good, huh?” He sucked the other nipple into his mouth, giving it the same attention. He pulled away, looking at her breasts, licking them both, making sure both of them glistened. He blew on both of them again, the sensation making her clit throb, her heart racing. He slid his hands into her pantaloons, letting the fabric glide effortlessly to the ground.
He stepped back and stared at her, his gaze slowly coursing over her form from her toes to the top of her head, and back down again. “Jesus. You’re beautiful.”
Uncomfortable at the attention, she put her hand over her pussy, and covered her breasts with the other.
“Nuh-uh,” he said. “Now, ya did it. Hands behind your head.”
What? I can’t put my hands behind my head! My tits will stick right out. It’s obscene.
“Darlin’, you better do what I say.” His voice had dropped an octave, rumbling deep in his chest, a sound she felt more than heard.
Though she knew she should obey him, she couldn’t.
“I don’t want to.” She whined, her voice more like a little girl’s than that of a grown woman.
The slaps he landed on her backside sounded like gunshots in the quiet tent, the blows hurting so badly that she found herself dancing up on her tiptoes. He swung her back around to face him again, and she reached back to cup the hot, injured flesh.
“Put your hands. On. Your. Head.”
Again, she hesitated.
“Are you looking for a spanking, baby? Is that what you want tonight? Tonight of all nights?”
She shook her head, amazed at how much her bottom hurt.
“Then get your hands on your head before I take the decision away from you and get my paddle.” He raised an eyebrow at her, dipping his chin. She knew that look already and decided pushing her tits out wasn’t worth the price of disobedience. She laced her fingers behind her head, feeling the bite of the tears behind her lids. It was just so humiliating.
“Oh, darlin’, don’t cry. I just want to see you without your hands or arms getting in the way.” He tipped her chin up and gently kissed her lips, backing up again to stare at her. He had an obvious bulge in the front of his pants and he whistled low, staring at the tuft of hair between her legs.
Clara had never had anyone look at her this way, not her mother or even the doctor. He stared unabashedly at her, exhibiting no remorse whatsoever for her obvious embarrassment.
“These curls are the color of corn silk.” He twirled his forefinger through them lightly, her clit jumping, begging for a rougher touch.
“Oh, Angus!” She couldn’t stop herself, her hips thrusting forward.
That low chuckle rolled over her. “You like that, darlin’?”
“Mmmm.” She couldn’t formulate words to describe how it felt being stroked that way. Matt had done it in the dark — and would be quick about it. She didn’t know she could feel like... this. He then slipped his finger inside her.
She gasped. “Oh. Oh my.”
“That’s right, girl. Checking the temperature. You seem to be just about right — might be time to take a dip.”
She should have been offended by that crass statement, but she could hardly breathe, let alone speak. Suddenly unable to even stand on her own, she let go of her head and grabbed his shoulders, her arousal so strong her knees wobbled.
Lord, is this what women mean by swooning?
She thought she might just swoon in Angus’ tent tonight.
He scooped her up, walking to the makeshift bed. “You keep your hands above your head. If you bring them down to push me, or cover yourself, I’ll be tying them above your head. Clear?”
“Yes, Sir.”
What did she just agree to?
Divesting himself of his clothes, he crawled on top of her, gazing at her all the while. She braced herself, waiting for him to thrust into her and “get this over with.” She closed her eyes, mentally preparing, willing herself to endure the coming ordeal with grace.
But instead he trailed small kisses along her chest, focusing on her breasts — again. She looked down at him as he tasted her skin. His hair, the color of coal, had become ruffled, hanging in soft waves about his face. At his temples, gray was just beginning to show, and she couldn’t help but touch him there, rubbing the silver locks between her fingertips.
He didn’t even pick up his head as he growled at her for her disobedience. She quickly put her hand above her head again. He raised his head up, smiling at her, that small dimple showing in his cheek. “Good girl.”
He settled between her legs, his hands sliding under her bottom, cupping a cheek in each hand. What he did next thrilled and mortified her at the same time, his hot mouth settling over her throbbing sex, his tongue slipping between the lips.
Oh my god! Can he put that... there?
“Oh, my God, Angus Warren! What in the name of holy hell do you think you’re doing?” She tried sitting up only to feel his heavy hand press against her chest, pushing her back.
“I think I’m getting ready to paddle my new wife.” He eased up on his hands and knees, moving closer to her. His cock was stiff and hard, jutting from his body.
“Just who the hell do you think you’re talkin’ to?” He looked at her hands, now obediently back above her head. “And I warned you about your hands, didn’t I?”
She jumped a little when he climbed off her and stood, his member bobbing before him as he walked.
And I thought his hands were big.
Apparently this man was just huge — everywhere. His ass was taut and firm, and her first thought upon laying eyes on it was that she’d like to bite it.
Where in the name of hell did that come from?
She had never bitten Matt’s ass, but as she watched the muscles flex as Angus walked, the strong, firm thighs, even the mere sight of him had her hips swiveling.
He walked back toward her with a red handkerchief, the corner of his mouth tilted up. “Whatcha wiggling about, girl?”
“Uhm, I’m not sure.” She couldn’t keep her gaze off of his cock. She’d never seen one on such blatant display. The amber glow from the candlelight caught the moisture collecting at the head of his member.
He tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at him. “Clara, have you never seen a man up close? It’s okay to say you haven’t. You wouldn’t be the first woman, just married, who ain’t ever seen it.”
She swallowed hard. He’d giv
en her the ability to save face and admit it without losing any pride.
“No, I’ve never seen... that. It was always dark and under blankets. Are they all that... big?”
“You do know how to make a man feel good, darlin’. I could lie, but I won’t. Yes, most of us are about the same size. Some cocks are bigger, some smaller. You can touch it. It’s not going to break.” He then tapped his sac. “These, however, are very sensitive. You can touch ‘em, but you gotta be gentle. It’s like your little button up here.” He tapped her clit and she snapped her thighs shut with a strangled moan.
Tentatively, she reached out and just before touching him, looked up at him again, silently seeking approval. He smiled, nodding. She ran her forefinger up his length, circling the head then making her way back down, tracing the large vein on the underside. “It’s so soft. How does something that feels like silk become this hard?”
Angus inhaled deeply, closing his eyes, a groan rumbling from deep in his chest.
“Am I hurting you, Angus?”
His eyes fluttered open. “No, darlin’. You aren’t hurting me. It feels so good, I’m… trying to not come.”
She blinked back, then grew bolder, taking him in her hand, her grip as firm as she dared. “It’s... sturdy.”
His laugh only made her more self-conscious, and she let go, looking away.
“Aw hell, I’m not laughing at you, Clara. Yes, it’s ‘sturdy’ — and you’re about to find out how sturdy it really is. But first, we’re tying your hands above your head because you seem to have a problem listening tonight, and I promised this would happen.”
“I’m not sure I’ll like that, Angus.”
He paused, staring at her for a minute. “It is our first night. We have plenty of time to play with tying you up, along with a few other fun things.” He tossed the handkerchief to the floor. “You promise to keep your hands above your head?”
“Yes, Sir. I promise.” She didn’t know that some people considered this ‘play’. She just thought of it as a chore, or as other women referred to it, her ‘wifely duty.’ She’d never heard of women being tied up — and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what that entailed. But so far, she’d been enjoying this much more than she had before.
“Now, I’m going to go back to what I was doing before. I’m going to be licking and sucking your pretty pussy and playing with your little button down there. You keep your hands over your head or you’ll not only be tied up, I’ll have to spank your little tail too. Clear?”
Did he say suck my… pussy? And play with my ‘little button?’
“Angus, is my ‘pussy’ my privates?”
“You got it, sweetheart. Nothing sweeter in the world — and you’ll love it. You’ll be begging me to do it again. And soon enough, I’ll make you do the same with my cock.”
Oh, Lord!
Instead of arguing or denying that any of it might be true, she simply nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.” He climbed on top of her, situating his hips between her legs, kneading and stroking her breasts. He laved and sucked on her nipples until her womb clenched in response, her pelvis rising off the bed, a slow moan bubbling from her throat, her head tipped back. She gripped the top of the blanket, squeezing it in her fists, her nail beds aching from the strain.
Angus trailed kisses down her belly, kissing her hipbones, paying particular attention to the area just above her quim. Her sex throbbed, and she had the urge to pull his face against it. But she didn’t want a spanking, so instead she pressed her feet into the bed, her hips rising, lifting him upon them.
“Feeling a little aroused, girl?”
“Mmmm.” She wagged her head, trying to focus on not moving her hands — until he did the next unthinkable thing. He poked his tongue into the curls covering her pussy and licked her button. Before she could restrain herself, she shouted. “Oh, God, Angus! I’m dying!”
Then he stopped. Nothing.
She opened her eyes to see concern on his face. “Clara, sweetie, have you ever had an orgasm or been given release during sex?”
She’d never so much as heard of such terms. “I-I don’t... I’m not sure. Would I… know?”
“You’re absolutely adorable. Yes, trust me, you’d know if you had one — and if you’re not sure, then I’m pretty sure the answer is no.” He shook his head, and she wondered if that meant he was disappointed. She hadn’t even been given a chance. Maybe he’d decided that she wasn’t worth it? “You’re in for a treat. I’m going to give you your first orgasm.”
“I’m sorry I disappointed you. I tend to disappoint people, even when I don’t mean to. I’ll try to do better, I promise.” She felt her lip quiver and she bit it to make it stop.
Now, he’ll think you’re just some silly crying woman too.
“Disappointed? Is that what you said?” He raked his hand through his hair in frustration. It was one of the signs — along with the tic in his jaw — that let her know when she’d gone too far. “I’m not disappointed at all. I’m amazed that a woman who’s been married and has had two children has never been given an orgasm. I’m far from disappointed. I’m excited to be your first!” He grinned at her then. “This is like having a virgin bride.”
Chapter Ten
Angus stared into Clara’s moist blue eyes. She had no idea that she had just given him the best wedding present a woman could. An innocent widow — something he would never have expected. He would not condemn Matt — he’d never do that to Clara — but damn that man.
How was it possible to have a wife for almost eleven years and never give her an orgasm?
That was Matt’s loss, and Angus’s win. He’d kill himself tonight to make sure that his wife would be screaming with her first orgasm.
“You wipe those tears, right now! I ain’t disappointed. Woman, I’m going to have you screaming with pleasure.” She looked at him as if he was crazy. “You remember that doubt when your throat is raw. Hands above your head!
He slid his tongue into those golden curls again, swirling it around that already hard little nub, sliding down to her labia, poking his tongue into her, lapping her juices, her body jerking in response. Instead of letting her buck against him though, he placed a hand on each hipbone, holding her still.
She whined in frustration and he laughed against the soft moist lips of her quim. She’d be taken to the edge and back many times before he’d allow her release. He nibbled and bit his way along those puffy lips back up to her clit, this time sucking on it harshly until her thighs tried closing around his head, then and only then did he release the strength of his suck, pulling back just enough to lightly blow on it.
“Oh! Oh God! Jesus Christ, Angus!” She gasped. “I’m sorry. Oh, I’m –. Oh, Lord!”
“Speechless?” He watched her eyes roll back, arching her back lengthening her neck. She fought against the hold he still had on her hips and her hands let go of the blanket and flexed in the air and went back to the blanket.
Good girl!
He circled the hard, red clit, now released from its hood, the flesh sensitive and taut. He brushed his tongue against it with light, feathery flicks. He let go of her hips and her pelvis jolted upward, forcing him to rise up on his hands to keep contact. He pushed his tongue into her, circling the delicate flesh. Once her hips came back down onto the mattress, he abandoned her pussy completely and started to work small little kisses at the sensitive skin on the inner surface of her hips.
“Oh! Don’t stop!”
He laughed. “I told you I’d have you begging.”
She glared at him, her eyes narrowed, jaw clenched.
“You might want to fix that attitude. I might not have a paddle, but I hear my hand is much worse.”
Her eyes widened and she gave him a nervous little smile.
“That’s better.”
He kissed and licked each hip until she bucked under his hands once more. ¬He placed his thumb right over her mons, pressing just above her sex. Al
ready prepared, he kept her immobile as she tried to squirm, making him move to push directly on her clit.
“Oooooooooo, you’re making me mad, Angus!” she said with a growl. He felt his pride swell at that — there was no better sound than making your girl growl during sex.
“Get used to it. You have a lot of years of this,” he said, pressing, pushing, and massaging her mons, heightening her arousal to the point that she gasped, her head lolling. It appeared to be time to let his girl finally scream with her release. He could hardly wait. He released her hips, watching them buck and thrust on only air.
Pushing his tongue into her, he lapped up the copious amount of juices waiting for him, then slid up her lips to the swollen clit, lightly flicking and licking, pulling the button into his mouth, sucking on it until she screamed out her release.
Just as he’d predicted.
She writhed and groaned with each tremor, her thighs so tight around his head, he wondered if it would pop right off his shoulders. He continued to lap and suck her until she collapsed in sated, blissful exhaustion.
Sliding up her body, he kissed her neck. “Does your throat hurt, girl?”
“Mmm-hmmm.”
“So, did you enjoy your first orgasm, baby?” He pulled one of her soft curls, wrapping it around her face. He loved how silky her hair felt in his fingers, and how the locks sprung back to their original shape, no matter how he played with them.
“Yes… indeed,” she murmured.
She still hadn’t opened her eyes, so he took her soft, trembling lips in his, working little kisses all over her face, then down her neck, stopping to nip and lick around her collar bone. She moaned and her hips started to rise once more, pressing against him.
Yep, she’s gonna be a lot of fun.
He’d enjoy teaching her the ways of a happy marriage.
Lifting himself up, he pushed into her. Her sigh — he forgot how a woman sounded when receiving her husband — almost made him roar. She wrapped her legs around him, her heels pressed to his buttocks, pulling him into her. He moved slow and easy at first, ramping up her arousal, sliding within her warm, moist sex. When her nails started to dig into his back, he increased the rhythm of his hips, pistoning into her. She squeezed his cock like a vise, straining toward her second orgasm.
Cinch Your Saddle (The Widow Wagon Book 3) Page 8
