In Your Arms (Montana Romance)

by Farmer, Merry

  He summoned every ounce of willpower he had to hold her at arm’s length.

  “Samuel and his dog Wilkins aren’t going to like this,” he said the least romantic thing he could think of to keep things from spinning out of control.

  Lily blinked and rocked back to her heels. “No, they won’t.”

  He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed when she let go of him and paced into the kitchen, worry clouding her beautiful face. She held herself tightly and touched her fingers to her lips.

  “I can’t say I’m delighted to let Thomas out of jail.” Christian followed her into the kitchen, taking off his coat and draping it over the back of a chair and tossing his hat on the table.

  “They’ll let him go?” she asked.

  He winced. “They could, but I still think he’s safer where he is. Bars keep fools out as well as they keep criminals in.”

  “Why do I have the feeling the criminals are on the wrong side of the bars? Men like…like my brother have been killed for no reason by soldiers like Wilkins. Snow In Her Hair’s first husband….” She pressed her lips together, face pinched in worry and grief.

  “I won’t let that happen to Thomas.” Christian crossed the room to fold her in his arms again. She let him, but was stiff and restless now. “Dr. Hammer with speak up for him, and I’ll find the true thieves and bring them to justice.”

  A twist of anger burst through Lily’s worry. “It’s all so unjust.”

  Again his heart melted. “I know it is, sweetheart. Unjust, unfair, and just plain stupid.”

  “All of it is unfair,” she said. “The way Sturdy Oak’s grandchildren are treated by some of the people in this town for no reason other than that they dare to come to school in spite of opinion is appalling.” She looked up at him. “They haven’t been seen since Thursday. None of them made it to the rehearsal today. I should have gone out to visit them Friday or yesterday or even today in spite of the snow and everything else.”

  He kissed her forehead. “I’m sure they’ll forgive you and understand how busy you’ve been.”

  She shook her head. “I’m worried about them. This town has been so hostile lately-”

  “Certain people in this town,” he corrected her.

  “Alicia Kuhn—”

  “Is just one person, not an army.”

  Lily frowned. “It wasn’t just Mrs. Kuhn. Even if it had been, you saw how nervous she made Snow In Her Hair.” She finished and sighed. “We have to solve these robberies, put the true thieves in jail, and move on with our lives.”

  “It will happen.” Christian held her closer. Without his coat in the way, he could feel the shape and heat of her body. He wanted her, no doubt about it, even in this anxious moment. “Thieves can’t run forever and people can only be blind for so long.”

  She didn’t believe him. It was painted all over her face. He drew his hands up her arms to cradle her face, kissing her on her forehead, her nose, and at last her lips. She relaxed into him with abandon that was such a sharp contrast from the fire of the first time he kissed her that a surge of power filled him. He could help her—he could conquer the world for her—because she gave him that power.

  “I love you,” he whispered against her soft lips, smoothing a thumb along her tear-soaked cheek. “I love you so much. I would do anything for you.”

  She sighed, the sound approving and desperate all at once. She lifted up on her toes, circling her arms around him and returning his kiss with a force that was all Lily. Her mouth explored his with a hunger that turned his power to helplessness. He was hers far more than she was his. Knowing that made him hotter than the sun.

  “I want you, Christian,” she panted. The grief and stress was still in her eyes, mingled now with passion. “I know I shouldn’t, but I do. I only feel right when I’m with you.”

  He circled his hands around her waist, already figuring out how to get her out of her corset as quickly as possible. “I’d do anything for you,” he repeated.

  “Love me. Just love me.”

  “Always.”

  She pressed in to kiss him in earnest. His whole body reacted to her, his arms pulling her close and his cock surging to life. A kiss wasn’t enough. With a gasp she leaned back, fingers moving to the buttons of his shirt.

  “Right now?” he asked, hands searching along the small of her back for the closures of her skirt.

  Lily nodded. “Yes. I need you inside of me.”

  Nothing had ever sounded so good. Whatever caution he had left was thrown to the wind with such force that he doubted it would ever come back. He looked around only as long as it took to orient himself in the apartment and to locate the bedroom. Then he took Lily’s hand and led her through the narrow hall at the top of the stairs to that bedroom.

  He had barely shrugged out of his suit jacket and tossed it aside before she was in his arms again. She tugged the hem of his shirt out of his pants as he shrugged out of his suspenders. Her hands splayed across the skin of his abdomen, and for a moment he thought he was in serious danger of losing his mind. Her touch was intoxicating.

  She had the buttons of his pants undone before he had finished with his shirt and pushed them down over his hips. He shook his shirt off of his wrists and kicked his pants aside in a wild dance that must have made him look like a fool. He didn’t care.

  In no time he stood in front of her, completely naked, cock dark and standing straight with the force of his desire, while she was still fully clothed.

  “Now this just isn’t fair,” he murmured, arching his eyebrow and thinking of every way he could devour her.

  Her breaths came in short gasps that pressed her breasts against the cotton of her dress as she stared, unashamed, at his manhood.

  “I fail to see the problem,” she said.

  “Do you?”

  He grasped himself, stroking up and down and letting her get an eyeful. It was a gesture only a fool would make, but it was hard to judge which felt better, the touch of his hand or the wicked spark in Lily’s eyes as she watched him. She’d let him handle himself until he came right there, standing in front of her, if he let her.

  “Oh no.” He let himself go. “You’re not having all the fun, my little Singing Bird. Take your clothes off.”

  Her eyes flashed to meet his at the command, full of defiance and desire.

  “Lay on the bed,” she ordered him in return.

  He hesitated, but only for the briefest of moments. Her long, delicate fingers reached for the buttons of her collar. He moved to the bed and lay down so fast that he was lucky he didn’t break something.

  With agonizing slowness, she undid the long row of buttons running down the front of her bodice. He watched her work every one through its hole, throbbing as though he was still stroking himself for all he was worth.

  “Don’t forget the cuffs this time,” he advised her, voice so raw with desire he barely recognized it.

  “I won’t.”

  He swallowed as she undid the buttons of one cuff, then the other, and rolled her shoulders out of her bodice with supple grace. The swell of her breasts—as brown and enticing as caramel—lifted over the top of her corset. She surrounded them with her hands, then slowly slid her way across the tight lines of her corset to her back and the fastenings of her skirt. Her cheeks glowed pink and her eyes were bright with shock and mischief at the sweet torture she was inflicting, as though she was surprised she had it in her.

  Her skirt came loose as she worked open the fastenings, and a moment later it dropped to the floor along with her petticoat. She stepped out of the pile of fabric and closer to him, reaching for the fastenings of her corset. His hand twitched to his erection. He wanted to pleasure himself while he watched her undress, but knew if he so much as looked at his stiff and swollen cock he would be unmanned in a heartbeat.

  Instead he focused on the lithe grace of her fingers as she worked the hooks of her corset free. When she reached the final hook, the offending garment popp
ed free. She let it drop to the ground. The deep breath she took did things to her full breasts—barely outlined under the thin fabric of her chemise—that could set a man back years.

  Her patience was as close to the end as his. She drew her chemise up over her head and stepped out of her drawers with lightning speed, then rushed to sink onto the bed with him. She’d forgotten her stockings, but he didn’t care. He reached for her and drew her over top of him. As soon as she was straddling him, he took his cock in hand and guided it to her hot, slick entrance.

  She bore down on him, taking him in with a slowness that had them both gasping and groaning with pleasure. It felt so good to be deep, deep inside of her that he twitched his hips up to bury himself to the hilt.

  Instead of moving to create that heady friction between them, she stopped. Her hips and thighs tightened around his and she held him down with the full weight of her body. He was hot and thick inside of her but unable to move. It was the raw sweetness of her hesitance that had him breaking out in a sweat.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered.

  He relaxed under her, willing himself to be patient as he gazed up at the vulnerability she couldn’t hide. He hadn’t thought love like this was possible. Her arms hung loose at her sides, giving him a full view of the swell of her breasts, nipples dark and hard, the flat of her stomach, her spread legs with the thatch of black curls between them blending into his own hair where their bodies joined.

  “Let me teach you,” he said. He rested his hands on the curve of her hips, learning the contours of her body, her backside and thighs.

  She nodded. “Tell me what to do.”

  “Be beautiful,” he answered.

  His fingers delved into the top of her stockings, held up by garters around her thighs. She sucked in a breath as he traced his fingernails up the inside of her thighs. A mewl of pleasure escaped from her. He throbbed inside of her, aching to move, to take what he wanted from her. He would not take anything else without first giving.

  With a light brush over the curls covering the part of her that held him, he worked his hands up along her sides to cradle her breasts. Their weight and softness were everything he had dreamed of in a woman. He raked his thumbs over her nipples. He wanted to taste her, to suckle and lave her until she cried out, but there would be time for that.

  “Take your hair down,” he told her.

  His hands still cupped her, thumbs teasing, as she lifted her arms to pull the pins from her hair. The shift of her weight and the sight of her long, graceful arms above her head sent a surge of impatience through him. He squirmed, hips writhing against her. She caught her breath and hummed at the sensation his movements provoked. Her eyelids were heavy with pleasure, and as her loose hair fell in black sheets around her shoulders she sighed.

  He slid his hands away from her breasts and back to her hips, fingers delving into her curls. He knew the moment he found the nub of her pleasure as she tightened around him. Encouraged, he teased her with slow, circular strokes.

  “Christian,” she moaned, tossing her handful of hairpins to the floor. Her hands flexed, restless as he pleasured her.

  “Hold your breasts,” he instructed.

  She obeyed, fondling her full breasts with slow tenderness, as if she’d touched herself like this before. She rubbed her nipples, pinching them lightly. There was no doubt in his mind that she had done this before. The thought of his Lily pleasuring herself canceled his patience.

  He gripped her hips, guiding her to lift over him.

  “Take it slowly,” he said. “Small movements.”

  She opened her eyes and gazed down at him, hazy with passion. Her thighs stiffened as she rose up a few inches. The friction of her body sliding along his shaft was enough to drive him mad.

  “Like this?” she asked.

  “Yes, sweetheart, just like that. Now down.”

  She bore down on him again. It was all he could do not to pound up into her, to clench his fingers into her flesh and work her along his length until he came. He sucked in a breath, focusing on her eyes, the trust she showed in him and the aching vulnerability of wanting to get it right.

  “Set your pace,” he said, losing the ability to form words. “Up and down. I’ll hold you and help.”

  She nodded and bit her lip. Her body rose hesitantly above him, then pressed down. Again. Hesitantly up, slowly down. Her movements were unpracticed, but the effect they created was heavenly. Up and down. She leaned slightly forward, then more so, bracing her hands against the headboard behind her. It was the stability she needed.

  Her pace quickened and her confidence grew. He clamped his hands firmly on her hips, keeping her from flying right off of him as her hesitance gave way to greed. With each stroke she rode him harder, adjusting her angle until at last she gasped in discovery. She kept that punishing pace, riding him with abandon. He held on as long as he could, but knowing that she had found just the right way to use him was devastating in its perfection.

  He added his own thrusts to hers. The rush of orgasm took him with a force that shot a white-hot bolt of pleasure from his groin through every sinew of his body. He cried out, alive with light.

  She continued to ride him for a few moments longer before gasping and then laughing as she climaxed. Her movements slowed as the tremors that squeezed his length ebbed. He relaxed, letting his arms drop to the bed, grateful that he hadn’t gone too soft before she came. Thank heaven for small miracles.

  The strength left her body as well, and she let go of the headboard to collapse on top of him. Her deep, panting breaths matched his own. Her hot body sprawled on top of him fought off the cold air that he hadn’t bothered to notice until then.

  “I love you, Christian,” she murmured into his shoulder. “I can’t help it, I love you.”

  He closed his eyes, circling his arms around her back. “I know, sweetheart. I love you too. I always will.”

  He’d never meant something as deeply in his life.

  Chapter Twenty

  She was at peace. The night was cold and silent around her, uncertainty waited outside, but for that moment, Lily was at peace.

  She lay tucked into the contour of Christian’s body, her head nestled on the pillow beside his. It’d been hours since he had taught her to make love in that exciting new way. She’d drifted off and slept for a time, but she hadn’t wanted to lose herself to the night.

  Christian’s body was a wonder. His firm muscles were covered with warm, soft skin along his torso and thighs. She curled her toes against his calf, one leg thrown over his. The mound of her womanhood pressed into his thigh, still aching for more. She knew there would be more, felt deep in her heart that there would be a lifetime of exploring Christian’s body and him exploring hers, but still she wanted. She wanted to feel his weight on top of her, feel the strength of his desire as he claimed her. She wanted so many things. Somehow they all felt right.

  Her fingers traced vague patterns across the firm muscle of his abdomen. He breathed in long, steady breaths, asleep still. The childish notion that it was unfair for him to sleep when she wanted him brought a smile to her face. She teased her way down between his legs to stroke him.

  “Christian,” she whispered. “It’s still night. We have time before you have to go.”

  Her feather-light brushes against his shaft had the effect she had hoped for. He grew stiffer with each pass. She closed her hand around him as she had watched him do to himself and worked her way up and down. He groaned and squirmed beside her.

  “One more time,” she pleaded, kissing his shoulder. She rubbed her palm around the growing crown of his penis. “We have time before morning.”

  He hummed, low in his throat. Then, before she realized how awake he was, he rolled her to her back, wedging himself between her legs.

  “Do we, now?” he growled.

  He dipped down to nibble at her neck. She giggled at the sensation of victory his ardor gave her and lifted her knees to his hip
s. He trailed hot kisses up her neck until his mouth met hers in a kiss that served as a prelude of everything she knew was to come. She kissed him back, uninhibited and alive.

  A crash sounded in the store directly below them.

  Lily gasped and Christian went rock-hard with tension above her.

  “What was that?” she whispered.

  He shook his head, lips pressed tightly closed. They held stock still, listening.

  “Dammit, Bo!” the muffled shout came up through the floorboards. “Watch what you’re doing!”

  Lily broke out in a cold sweat.

  Christian muscled himself to his knees and climbed out of bed, careful not to make a sound.

  “Where does he keep the cash box?” a second voice, Bo, said.

  “It must be behind the counter,” the first voice said.

  They spoke at full volume, no attempt to be quiet. They must have thought the building was empty.

  Christian moved with silent swiftness, finding his clothes on the floor in the dark and dressing. Soft moonlight lit the room, made brighter by the snow on the roof of the porch just outside the window. The thumping and clamoring continued downstairs. Christian motioned for Lily to get out of bed and dress. She scrambled to do as she was told, fumbling to put her clothes on.

  “It’s not there,” Bo said downstairs. “Dammit, Jed, you said the cashbox would be here!”

  Christian’s face darkened at the name.

  “It is! I swear it is! They don’t take it to the bank every day. You’re not looking in the right place.”

  Lily buttoned her blouse with shaking hands. She gasped at the sound of breaking glass, nearly yelping in fear. She slapped a hand over her mouth as Christian stepped toward her and kissed her forehead to settle her.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Bo shouted.

  “They got jewelry in here!” Jed argued. “It’s worth something.”

  “The cabinet opens in the back, see? You didn’t have to break the glass.”