Hannah's Gold

by Hannah's Gold (lit)

  As Luke reached across for the towel to wipe his face, he spluttered a curse. Hannah jumped and scuttled back to the kitchen table, putting as much distance as she could between her and the door. Had he seen her? She hoped not.

  “Hannah,” Luke called.

  She stood stock-still for a moment. Her heart thudded way too fast and she found it hard to speak immediately. She felt a little light-headed. She sucked in a smidgeon of air.

  “Yes?” she called back, hoping he couldn’t hear the tremor in her voice.

  “Sorry to bother you but have you another towel? I’ve just dropped this one in the bath. It’s soaked.”

  Thank God. Her body relaxed in relief. He hadn’t spotted her. But her heart still flipped and pounded fiercely against her chest wall. She’d have to go back in there and this time with Luke sitting in the bath, as naked as the day he was born—except, of course, he’d not been born looking like that. A deep flush crept from her chest all the way up to her cheeks.

  A naked man, about whom she just had lewd, unladylike thoughts. She could barely breathe.

  “Just a moment. I’ll bring one,” she said, clutching the edge of the table to steady her shaky legs. She needed a moment or two to gather her wits. The last thing she wanted was for Luke to step out of the water and come looking for one himself, still naked.

  Squaring her shoulders, she nudged the door open a little and stepped inside her bedroom. Luke had submerged his head under the water as he rinsed soap from his hair. His knees still bent sharply and his genitals floated just beneath the water level. The layer of soapy scum that lay on top of the water barely covered them. Hannah tried not to stare but stare she did. Rosy pink, their size wasn’t lost on her. Semi-erect, his cock hung in the water, like a snake hiding in a dark bush of wet curls, ready for action. Involuntarily, her tongue flicked across her hot, dry lips. He looked all male.

  The ache, now gnawing in the depths of her belly, doubled. Blood surged hotly through her veins, and her upper thighs crawled with tiny prickles of heat and yearning. She needed to distract herself quickly. Her breasts now tingled and swelled in desperate need. She craved a pair of strong, callused hands to fondle and cradle them, while a warm, wet mouth suckled and teased the sensitive tips already contracting into hard points. Shameful, she tore her eyes away. She shouldn’t be thinking such things. Quickly, she dropped the towel on the wooden rocker by the bath.

  It creaked and moved gently on its rockers. It reminded her, almost mocked her, that Jacob’s mother had sat in that rocker when she’d nursed him as a baby. They’d brought it with them, when she and his father had travelled from back East to settle here and seek a better life. One day, Jacob once told her, he hoped his wife would suckle their babies there, too, and a primitive urge tugged at her womanhood. It fanned upward and outward from her core until a throbbing need enveloped her whole body. Her nerve endings prickled with longing, and her face burned as Luke’s manly tackle drew her eyes once more, knowing what the results of coupling with such a man might bring.

  Luke’s head surged up from the water. He wiped the soap from his eyes. Hastily, Hannah stooped to retrieve his dirty laundry. She needed to divert her wayward thoughts, as well as her face, before he had chance to see the blush staining her cheeks.

  “I’ll take these outside and put them to soak,” she mumbled breathlessly.

  Unable to meet his eyes, she was afraid he might see the lust written clearly in hers. He might even offer to do something about it. Since Jacob left, she’d had enough of those sorts of offers from McCabe and his men. But never, until now, did she think she might want to take anyone up on them. Try as she might, she still wanted to believe that Jacob would be coming back.

  She scurried from the room and dropped his clothes into a tub of cold water out back. Returning to the kitchen, she gave the stew a vigorous stir. Puffing out her cheeks, she let out a long, slow breath. Hot and sweaty, and very mindful it wasn’t just the weather causing her physical state, her head was all over the place.

  She unfastened another button on her blouse and wiped away the thin sheen of perspiration covering her neck and corsage with her fingers and palm. Thank goodness she’d changed out of her pants into a skirt when she got back. She lifted the front and wafted it vigorously in a futile attempt to cool herself down. Try as she might, she still couldn’t ignore the sound of splashing water in her bedroom. Unable to control herself, she went back to the open door.

  Her heart pumped mercilessly against her ribcage. Her breath shortened. Sucking in tight, ragged gasps, her body throbbed as the blood fizzed hotly through her veins. Instinctively, her hand slid to the V of her blouse. She unfastened yet another button.

  Slipping her left hand inside the garment, she could feel the heat emanating from her skin as her flesh tingled and burned. Gently, she began to stroke the soft flesh of her right breast. She needed to do something to alleviate the ever-increasing tension threatening to swamp her.

  Lightly, her fingers found the hard peak of her tightly contracted nipple. Teasing and circling it gently, tiny sparks of electricity shot through her body. They massed in a cacophony of nerve endings deep inside the core of her womanhood. Their intensity stirred a jumble of emotions and needs. She gasped and gave a little moan. Everything faded around her, receding swiftly to the outer reaches of the room until nothing was left in it but her pulsating body, eager for release from the sweet agony that now swept through her like a huge tidal wave. Desperate for release, she closed her eyes.

  She caught the hem of her skirt. Barely conscious of her short, panting intakes of air, she scrunched the material slowly between the fingers of her right hand and lifted it. She’d not bothered with bloomers. She often went bare-assed when the weather became warm, saving them just for Sundays, when she went to church, or when she rode into town. She was glad now that she hadn’t.

  She licked her lips and opened her eyes. Peeking through the doorway, she could now see Luke’s well-formed masculine body reclining against the back of the bath. His big frame looked cramped in that tiny bath with his eyes shut and his knees still bent and spread apart. However, Hannah was now more interested in admiring his rugged looks and taut, lean body. Sure and strong, with a wide, broad chest and flat, washboard stomach, it bore testament to the hard, physical life he led. His thighs, clear of the water, were firm and powerful. She lingered, for a moment, imagining how delicious it would feel to have them pry hers apart. Her sex swelled and she laid her head against the wall once more. Tilting her head back and closing her eyes, she tweaked a tingling, sensitive nipple.

  A wonderful spasm coursed down to her womb, and the hand that held her skirt, now slid to her hot, wet center. Gently, her fingers started to rub its slick folds and twirl the golden curls at the junction of her thighs. She squirmed against the wall, as she rotated the tip of her finger around the swollen nub of her quivering clit. She began to tremble.

  Oh, God! It had been far too long since she’d felt a hard cock inside her, and drowned in that wonderful, shameless feeling as if it would split her body in two. How she craved to feel a man’s rough flesh lying against her flesh again, rocking together and bringing each other to the brink of sweet oblivion. She wanted to fall over the edge into that wonderful abyss, where nothing mattered, except pure physical gratification while he spurted hot juices deep inside her

  Oh, God—where she nearly was now.

  She panted. Her breath came raw, short, and fast at the back of her throat. She was barely aware of the warmth that suddenly tickled the length of her exposed neck as she arched against the wall, ready to give her whole being over to that glorious wave of pure bliss. Shivers of excruciating delight slithered tantalizingly across her shoulders and down her spine until they reached the crevice between her buttocks. For a moment, they teased and circled around her butt hole before finally creeping into her now dripping cunny. She moaned softly, welcoming the hot, pouring tide rolling in over the sexual heat that she’d put on one side
for so long.

  Just as the dam was about to burst, a low, seductive, gravelly voice purred against her ear. It cleaved its way through the fog clouding her brain.

  “Do you need any help with that?”

  Chapter Six

  Hannah’s eyes shot open. Wide-eyed, she stared at Jed’s grinning face. Her jaw dropped and her knees went weak. A little cry caught in her throat. She quickly dropped her skirt. A cool breeze fanned across her legs as it fell to the floor.

  Jed caught her now empty hand in his. He lifted it slowly to his nostrils and inhaled deeply. His eyes darkened, and, lightly, he rested his freshly-shaven cheek against hers. At the same time, he guided her face toward the crack in the door once more. He invited her to sneak another peek at his brother who continued his bath, unaware of the storm he had just created.

  “Hmm…He’s a good-looking guy, my brother,” Jed whispered softly against the burning apple of her cheek. “I guess if I was in your position, I’d be fucking myself, too, and fantasizing about him making me come. Although, you only needed to ask. I’m sure he’d have obliged. He’s too much of a gentleman not to help out a lady in distress.”

  He steered her hand, still in his, back to her skirt. Slowly, with his fingertips, he crumpled it up once more. Her thighs exposed yet again, he pressed her fingers against her wet slit.

  “I’m sorry, I’ve put you off your stroke,” he apologized.

  Powerless to move, the mischievous twinkle in Jed’s eyes mesmerized her. Yet, despite the shock of finding herself with an unexpected voyeur, the ache hadn’t lessened. In fact, it had gotten a whole lot worse. Jed’s huge frame, towering over hers, caused her bones to melt into a puddle of jelly. She thought Luke was all man but his brother matched him bone for bone. Nevertheless, she couldn’t bring herself to perform such an intimate act under such a watchful gaze. She felt a little shy.

  Yet, as he shushed her softly and backed her away from the bedroom and Luke’s ablutions, into the kitchen, she let him. He turned her to face him and slowly unfastened the rest of her buttons. She gave a little whimper, and her breath shortened as he pushed her shirt from her shoulders. Then, as he caught his thumbs in the straps of her camisole, he slid them over her upper arms and down to her waist. It allowed her breasts to spill free. They rose and fell rapidly with each short breath. At the same time, their tips contracted into dimpled peaks. She heard Jed catch his breath too. She raised her eyes to his and she parted her lips, inviting his kisses. However, instead, he captured her tiny hands in his and guided them to her breasts, encouraging her to cup them herself.

  “Don’t be shy,” he said softly. “You were doing okay before I arrived. Run your thumbs over the tips.”

  Entranced by his smile, she obeyed. She gave a short gasp at the speed with which the needy thread of desire shot to her womb. Her nipples hardened further into proud, protruding points of ecstasy.

  “That’s it,” he praised, as teacher to pupil. “Now, keep doing that, and I’ll do the rest.”

  He spanned her waist in a gentle grasp and turned her around until she faced away from him. Snaking his hands up either side of her body, she felt his fingers entwine through her hair. Stroking the curls from out of her neck, he lowered his lips to her nape. He barely touched her, catching only the tops of the fine hairs. They quivered to attention, like a platoon of soldiers on sentry duty, and her skin shivered with goose bumps. A little moan caught in her throat. She couldn’t stop herself, or him. She loved every touch and stroke Jed made as his lips trailed a path of tiny kisses down her naked back, following the curve of her spine. His hands, resting on her hips, slowly scrunched up her skirt, exposing her smooth, long legs to the warm air, and baring her delicious, round bottom to his admiring gaze.

  Involuntarily, her pelvis rotated, her buttocks momentarily clenched as she squeezed her groin in a desperate bid to control the hopeless betrayal of her body. Utterly exposed, and much to her consternation, she adored every depraved moment of it.

  Jed bent her over the table. The front of her skirt now trailed the floor while the back crumpled across the back of her waist. A gush of hot liquid streamed from her steamy slit as he nudged her legs wider apart. Her pussy throbbed. Her body vanished in a tangle of passion and yearning as her hormones surged out of control. She trembled.

  “A-are you going to fuck me?” she stuttered, unable to control the tremor in her voice. The way he touched her was wildly exciting, yet extremely disturbing. Given over to a lust so dangerous and so powerful, all consequence of any coupling became lost in a haze of basic, primitive need for fulfillment. First his brother, now him, her body felt as though it no longer belonged to her.

  Jed leaned over her and laid his cheek gently against hers once more.

  “Shh,” he soothed. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that. This is about you, not me. I’m only helping you to get some satisfaction. You don’t need me to fuck you. You just need a helping hand, that’s all. You look like you need it.”

  Hannah’s stomach squelched. A host of butterflies jumped around her insides, and a feathery pulse fluttered in her throat. She was in sweet agony and close to seeing stars. Her whole body, engulfed in greedy yearning, abandoned itself to the sheer wanton pleasure Jed offered her. Her hands, trapped between her soft breasts and the hard wood of the table, tingled as the weight of his body pressed against hers.

  The hard ridge in his denim pants pried open the valley between her buttocks, and her cunny throbbed and quivered. Snaking his hands from her waist to the flesh of her butt cheeks, he gently cupped each one, squeezing and kneading. Once more, Hannah’s breath shortened into quick, ragged bursts as it rasped in her throat and chest. Her sex, swollen and so hot, opened up to him like a flower.

  Oh, God! She wanted him to touch her there so badly. What did a woman do in this sort of situation? Did she ask? Did she tell him? Did he know?

  Of course he did. He now knelt on the floor behind her. His hot breath gently caressed her secret place. The movement, wholly erotic and painfully delightful, made her squirm uncontrollably against the wood. Jed’s warm, wet tongue flicked at the junction where her buttocks met.

  Nerve endings exploded and a tiny cry caught in her throat. Fresh tentacles of molten fire fanned along the pathways of her flesh. Lightning flashed in her brain. A multitude of colors sparked behind her closed eyelids.

  Then, as Jed pried her cheeks apart with his thumbs, he pressed his lips into the crack and circled her butt hole with the tip of his tongue, alternating between a hardened point that probed and searched, and a wide, flat tongue that gently lapped.

  Short, sharp shocks of static sparked through her veins and her tiny cry became soft mewling that quivered at the base of her throat. As intense, pounding need poured through every cell of her body, it ignited every erogenous zone she possessed. He then lapped at her cunny. His tongue, first stretched wide, next contracted into an invasive point, he drank the honey, and circled and jabbed deep inside her soft, warm womanhood.

  The short, sharp bursts and slow, meandering searches of her flesh drove her crazy. Every time she teetered on the edge of completion, he stopped and altered the rhythm, leaving her dangling, helpless, and desperate.

  It seemed he knew exactly what to do.

  She didn’t.

  She didn’t know what to do at all. All she knew was that she wanted to suck every cock within a ten-foot radius into her swollen, aching cunt and release the torment that swamped her.

  Beneath her, Jed flicked his tongue across her clit, which now quivered in needy expectation. Her breath quickened again as rapid pants raked her throat. She teetered on the edge of blissful oblivion. Finally, as he caught the little nub between his teeth and sucked and nibbled, Hannah gave a little tremor, and spasms of rolling pleasure gripped her body. Nothing more than a tangled mass of frenzied flesh, she became a slave to her most basic needs, as well as Jed’s dominance and skill.

  Her vagina contracted hard and she bucke
d and thrust against Jed’s lips. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut with the intensity of her orgasm, a high-pitched cry of splendid release broke through the constriction that had bound her chest and throat. She was ravenous for everything he gave her.

  Jed hung on like a leech as more wonderful tremors rocked her sex-starved body. It served to remind her of what she’d missed these long, lonely months. Finally, as she collapsed, prone and exhausted, across the table top, a metallic click echoed in the sudden, ensuing silence.

  A gun cocked.

  Seconds later, a deep, authoritative voice followed it.

  “Just hold it there. Nobody move.”

  Chapter Seven

  Lying in the warm, relaxing water, with hot, erotic thoughts filling his head, had invited Luke to perform a hand job to ease the ache. Unlike his brother, after all those celibate weeks on the trail, he hadn’t had chance to relieve his pent-up frustrations. What made it worse, the lovely Hannah had deepened his carnal needs. Sweet and comely in appearance, and feisty in character, he could almost understand McCabe’s need to possess her.

  However, that was where his understanding stopped. Luke had too much respect for women, and he never fucked them without their express permission. He would never force his attentions where they weren’t welcome, albeit, a little gentle teasing and good-humored persuasion usually never failed. He had a knack for being able to detect a willing partner, and, despite Hannah’s rebuff of McCabe, he’d sensed a mutual attraction between himself and the lovely lady as they rode over here.

  Furthermore, he wasn’t about to pounce where his advances may not be totally welcome. After all, he wasn’t quite sure who this Jacob was, of whom she spoke so affectionately, or where he fit into her life. Maybe he was her brother. He doubted he was her husband. She didn’t wear a ring. Nevertheless, it puzzled him that any man should have abandoned a woman alone to the kind of jibes and taunts McCabe handed out to her. So, for the time being, he decided to make do with a few sexual fantasies. Clamping his hand around his hard cock, he stroked up and down with ever-increasing rhythm.