Promises Keep (The Promise Series)

by Sarah McCarty

He pulled the door shut behind him and dropped the bar. The room was dark compared to the outside. More intimate. More conducive to love talk. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “You would.”

  He let her slide down his body, his right eyebrow kicking up as he asked, “Is there something else I should be taking it as?”

  “Maybe an indication that you’re just hungry in general?”

  He slipped his knife from its sheath; the blade gleamed in the faint light. “What made you think that?”

  She eyed the big knife warily. “All that emphasis on nibbling and tasting.”

  He caught her wrist in his hand and turned her palm up. “I aim to do plenty of tasting and nibbling.”

  He put the tip of the blade under the sleeve of the old dress. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Preparing my meal.” He caught her eye. “Don’t move.”

  The command was unnecessary. As soon as that big knife started cutting through the worn material, she’d stopped breathing altogether. As the shoulder seam gave with a pop, he smiled and said, “Breathe.”

  She did, but only until he set the knife to the other sleeve. As smoothly as the first, he slit this one from sleeve to collar. As the remains of the bodice slid to her waist, leaving her torso bare to his gaze, he shook his head at her. “Angel, when it comes to me and knives, you’ve got no cause for concern.”

  “So you keep telling me.”

  He put the knife back in its sheath, those dark eyes wickedly amused as he asked with apparent innocence, “Have I nicked that sweet pussy once while shaving it?”

  She could feel the blush rising as she answered. She didn’t know if she’d ever be at ease with talking about the things they did together. “No.”

  “So why are you sweating one old dress?”

  “Because it’s a damned big knife!” she burst out.

  He unbuckled his knife sheath. “And I’m the man holding it. That’s all you’ve got to remember.”

  “So you keep telling me,” she muttered, flitters of anticipation shivering over her skin as he began to unbutton his shirt.

  “And what else did I tell you?”

  He shrugged off the shirt, baring the wide expanse of his shoulders and the slabs of muscle layering his abdomen, the scars here and there doing nothing to diminish his beauty. She stared a little helplessly. Lord above, he was gorgeous.

  He closed her mouth with the tip of his finger. “What else did I tell you?”

  “That I should trust you.”

  “And if you didn’t?”

  Oh damn, she’d forgotten about that. “That you would punish me.”

  Suddenly, all that muscle wasn’t so inviting. She took a step back.

  He caught her by hooking his hand behind her neck. “Now that makes two things I’ll be punishing you for.”

  She swallowed. “Two?”

  “Yup.” His fingers massaged the back of her neck, sending tingles down her spine. His voice was a husky growl. “The second for thinking I’d break my promise not to hurt you.”

  She closed her eyes and went with his tug, her “Oh God” breathed against the firm muscle of his chest. His laugh rumbled beneath her ear.

  “No. Cougar.”

  She swatted his forearm in retaliation and then gasped as he dragged her sensitive nipples across his upper abdomen. Every ridge and hollow seeming to grab at the swollen points, sending weakening jolts of pleasure radiating out from her chest. Her knees were the first to succumb to the assault. She fell against him, trusting him to catch her weight, to see her through. His cock throbbed, solid and heavy against her abdomen.

  “Steady,” he murmured, his hands on her shoulders.

  “I can’t when you do that.”

  “You will if I tell you to.”

  She glanced up, loving the way his face hardened with his desire. For her. Only for her. “Are you?”

  “What?”

  “Ordering me to stand up?”

  He smiled slightly, stretching his thumb up so he could stroke the corner of her mouth. “Nope. I want you to walk.” He turned her around and gave her a little push toward the kitchen. “Go.”

  She looked at the swinging kitchen door, remembered what had happened there before, and took one shuddering step and then had to wait for the bursts of arousal to fade to take another.

  Cougar’s low, dangerous, sexily drawled “Is there a problem?” had her creaming her thighs with her juices and picking up her pace. She didn’t need to turn around to know he was behind her. She could hear the whisper of his moccasins over the wood floor as he stalked her through the door and into the dim interior of the big square kitchen. Once there, she didn’t know where to go, so she stood still in the middle of the room, and waited as he crossed to the door. The thunk that the wooden bar made as it hit the cradle made her jump.

  Her heart thundering in her ears, she watched as he stopped at the drawer by the stove. His teeth gleamed white in the gloom as he fished out a familiar round jar.

  Her ass clenched and her knees buckled. His low laugh as he closed the distance between them let her know he’d seen the slight dip before she’d caught herself. He whispered, “Glad to see you approve,” against her ear.

  Mortification mixed with the burn of arousal until she didn’t know where one left off and the other began. She didn’t know what to say, or what to do. She just held still and waited. He didn’t give her any clues. He just stood there, the heat of his skin teasing hers, his scent wrapping around her the way she wished his arms would. She was never comfortable with silence, worrying that it existed because she’d failed to do something expected.

  Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore and blurted out, “Am I supposed to be doing something?”

  He pulled back and looked at her a moment. His expression considering, his eyes unreadable shadows in the gloom. “Is there something you wanted to do?”

  It was all she could do not to shift under his gaze. “You were just standing there…”

  He touched her cheek lightly. “Just thinking on where to start.”

  “Oh.”

  Now she felt stupid.

  “You worry a lot, don’t you?” His finger slid down her neck to her chest. He drew a figure eight around her nipples with his finger.

  She bit her lip as the circles drew closer and closer to the center of her breast with each pass.

  “I wouldn’t say a lot,” she finally admitted.

  “But you’d rather know the lay of the land?”

  “Wouldn’t everyone?”

  He flicked her left nipple with his finger. “Maybe.”

  She absorbed the sensation, controlled it, trying to concentrate on the conversation. “But you’d rather I be more adventurous.”

  He paused, his finger mid-flick of her right nipple. “More adventurous?”

  She glanced up to see the wry smile flash across his face. Her lip slid between her teeth as he took that finger and pressed it dead center of her nipple and pushed down. “Angel, I don’t think I could keep up if you were.”

  She caught his wrist in her hand, halting the distraction of his touch. “Maybe adventurous was the wrong word.”

  The jar clattered as he dropped it to the table. She jumped as he brought his hand down on her buttock, the smack stinging pleasurably through the folds of her dress. Her breath caught for a totally different reason and she clutched his wrist to steady herself.

  “My touch, however I want it,” he reminded her as he brought his hand up to cup her cheek, his fingers threading through her hair, his thumb coming to rest under her chin. With pressure on the base of her neck, he tilted her face up.

  “Now, you want to tell me what subject you’re dancing around?”

  “Not like this.”

  “How not like this?”

  She swallowed. “Looking at your face.”

  He shook his head and strands of his hair fell forward, sliding against her breast, tickling the sensitive flesh. H
e backed her up four steps, until the top of her hips hit the edge of the big cherry kitchen table.

  “Exactly like this.”

  “Why?”

  He shifted his grip to her waist and lifted her up. “Because I want it.”

  She wiggled back onto the table only to look at him with surprise when he caught her by the thighs and brought her hips to teetering on the edge.

  “Stay put and talk.”

  “I can’t.”

  “What?”

  “Sit like this,” she finished in exasperation as she almost slipped off again. He held her steady.

  There was a tight edge to his smile that had her pulse doing double time. “Spread your legs.”

  She almost sobbed with frustration when the skirt hampered her movement. He reached to his waist and the big knife was moving in her direction again. She held as still as possible while he slit the skirt from hem to waist. She was vastly relieved when he left the waistband alone and just parted the material. His hands covered her thighs, his flesh dark against the white of hers. His thumbs dipped into the silky cream coating the soft inner flesh.

  “Damn, you’re pretty.”

  He wasn’t looking at her face, and again she marveled that he found her attractive. He looked up, caught her watching him and smiled. “Now, what did you want to say to me?”

  He pulled her thighs wide and stepped between, allowing her to lean against his chest for support.

  Just inches from her pussy, she could feel the heat of his cock. She balanced on the edge of the table, caught between the erotic promise of his touch and the embarrassing end to their conversation.

  He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back. Lord help her, but her pussy wept with pleasure at the small tingles radiating out from her scalp.

  His eyes were dark with things she didn’t understand as he said, “Answer me.”

  She struggled to find a way to say she was boring without actually spitting it out. “I’m probably not as bold as…some of your other women.”

  “Ah.” He touched the inside of her thigh. She instinctively moved them wider.

  “You’re worried I don’t find you exciting?”

  She stared hard at his chin. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I never do anything,” she whispered.

  “You mean when we’re private?”

  He unbuttoned the fly of his denims. His knuckles brushed the damp folds of her pussy as he worked his fly open. She couldn’t help the surge of her hips at the butterfly movement.

  “Yes.”

  “And you think that bores me?”

  Her big eyes turned to his. “Don’t I?”

  “Take my cock out.”

  Cougar smiled as her lids dipped under the impact of the command. He loved the way she melted at the thought of his touch. There was that little hesitation followed by that erotic little shiver, then her hands obediently slid into his pants and gently pulled his cock free. Immediately, her fingers fluttered along his length in possessive caresses that brought a groan to his throat.

  He held her hand on him, squeezing her fingers, unable to help the groan that slid past his control. Her gaze flew to his.

  “It turns me hard as a rock,” he explained, “knowing that you’re waiting on my command, ready to give me what I want, when I want it, however I want it. That you get wet at the thought of me coming to you. That you trust me to give you what you need, no questions asked. I’ve never had that before.” He brought his mouth to hers, bit at her lips until she parted them, took her gasp and then speared his tongue straight into her mouth, plundering her depths, taking her taste as his. She tasted of tea and sweet, willing woman. He pulled back. “Trust me, Angel,” he rasped, trying to find breath to speak normally. “I intend to hold onto it as long as I can.”

  She frowned up at him. “I told you I wouldn’t leave.”

  He kissed her quickly. “I know.”

  But that promise could only hold until the truth came out. He touched her cheek. “Now lean back on your elbows.”

  She did. He knelt, draping her legs over his shoulders, staring up at her from between her spread thighs. She looked hungry, apprehensive and embarrassed all in one shot. “I want you to watch.”

  She closed her eyes briefly and then asked breathlessly, “Couldn’t I just imagine what you’re doing?”

  This close, her scent was intoxicating. He pressed a kiss to her left labia and then to the right, her shaved flesh soft as satin against his lips.

  “No.”

  “Oh.”

  Such a soft, melting sound. And he knew she was melting. Against his lips, her pussy pulsed its pleasure with his presence there. Her juices coated his lips and tongue as he pressed past her outer lips and lapped at the smooth pink flesh within. He parted her with his fingers, rimming her vagina with his tongue, teasing the tiny opening, resisting the pressure of her calves on his back to increase the pressure. He owed her for this afternoon and payback was going to be a deliciously long, drawn out, pleasure-filled bitch.

  He worked his way up to her clit, running his tongue over her smooth flesh in a zigzag pattern, slowing his approach as he neared, feeling her anticipation in the increased tension in her thighs. He heard her breath hitch as he parted her folds with his fingers, exposing her clit as it rose from its protective hood.

  It was swollen and hard. He touched it with the tip of his tongue. An experimental flick to gauge the extent of her readiness. She jerked, and her pussy spasmed. Her juices spilled onto his fingers, her small scream telling him that she was at the edge. He didn’t make her wait this first time. He took her clit into his mouth and sucked lightly while rubbing his tongue around the small protuberance, first using the tip and then flattening his tongue for a broader, more encompassing caresses. He slid his finger into her pussy, fucking her with the same slow pulse of suction that he applied to her clit. Her inner muscles grabbed at his fingers, protesting his retreat, welcoming his return. Her calves wrapped around his head, dragging him closer as she worked her hips against his face. He tilted his face, whiskers catching and dragging on the slick flesh, the increased stimulation driving her higher, her movements punctuated with small breathless screams. When she was on the edge, one heartbeat from coming, he removed his fingers, removed his mouth, and unwrapped her legs from his shoulders. She stared at him mindlessly as he stood between her legs.

  “And now for your punishment.”

  He didn’t wait for concern to replace confusion. Instead, he lightly snapped the back of his hand against the swollen wet folds of her cunt. She gasped and her body jerked taut. He slapped her again, watching her carefully, increasing the strength behind the blow as she wiggled on the table, unable to get away or get closer. As her fingers clawed at the smooth wood, her panted pleas for release grew incoherent. He turned sideways and worked two fingers into her greedy pussy, fucking her hard and fast, in keeping with her hip’s silent demand. On the fourth thrust, he smacked her hard on her clit. Her scream was a high-pitched cry of satisfaction. The strength of her orgasm jerked her torso off the table. He caught her behind her neck, easing her back down, his fingers buried in her pussy, keeping her hips still for his attentions.

  “Cougar,” she sighed as he worked his fingers in and out.

  “At last, we’ve got that right,” he murmured, glancing up over her heaving chest at her flushed face. He kissed her stomach, working his way up her torso.

  “As if I could forget,” she groaned, her inner muscles still spasming around his fingers.

  He smiled at the grumpy edge to her voice. He lapped at the bead of sweat between her breasts, relishing the salty taste, the feel of her flesh against his, the way she gave herself to him.

  “You took your punishment well,” he said as his face came even with hers. He caught the frown lingering in the pleasure of her expression. He pulled his fingers free of her pussy, added a third and then worked them back in. “Did you like it?”

 
Her lip slipped between her teeth and she shuddered around him before she answered self-consciously. “You know I did.”

  He kissed one flushed cheek, and then the other. “But?”

  “Should I have?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  He brushed her nose with his, shaking his head so his hair fell around them. “Open your mouth.”

  She immediately fisted her hands in his hair and did as he asked. He slid his tongue between her lips once, twice, before asking, “Can you taste yourself on me? Can you taste how sweet you are to me?”

  “Yes,” was a soft, embarrassed sigh. She pulled his hair as he chuckled and nibbled at her lips.

  “I want to taste you, too,” she protested as his thumb slid up through her cleft until it rested on her clit, while his fingers worked lazily in the wet grip of her pussy.

  “You had your turn this afternoon. This is my time.”

  “That’s not fair,” she gasped, lurching as he raked her clit with his thumbnail.

  “I’m not interested in fair.” He kissed the side of her neck. He loved the way her breath shuddered when he did that. “I’m more interested in hearing you scream.”

  She tilted her head back, facilitating his exploration. “What about what I want?”

  He nipped the cord between her shoulder and neck and then sucked the flesh into his mouth. He held it until she moaned and then let it go with a soft pop.

  “I tell you what.” He kept his thumb on her clit while he increased the pace and force of his fingers in her pussy, letting the friction and pressure drive her passion. “You come for me five times in the next hour and I’ll give you anything you want.”

  She arched her spine off the table. “Anything?” she groaned.

  “Anything,” he promised as his lips settled over her straining nipples and he began to suck.

  Chapter Twenty

  When he’d agreed to anything, he’d been thinking along the lines of fucking, not standing in the middle of an unruly crowd listening to an Easterner preach about women’s rights. But, he’d been bound by his word, and when Mara had stated her want, he’d been helpless to deny her. Bringing Mara to Cheyenne and risking someone mentioning the Pleasure Emporium, and maybe his part in it, had not been in his plans for a long while yet. However, hogtied as he was by his word, he was stuck. Though he damned well was going to talk to Elizabeth about the subjects she brought up with his wife. He did not want Mara turning into a suffragist because of some misguided need to be in charge.