by KyAnn Waters
“Train, please.” Her whispered plea seeped into his thoughts. No rushing. Tonight was for her.
“Patience.” Bracing himself above her, he bent one of her legs. Touching and tasting the inside of her thigh, Marion arched off the rug. She gasped, rocking her hips in a slow gyration. He moved between her legs and breathed in her essence. Spicy and exotic. His tongue sliced between the folds of her sex. Marion cried out as he searched out her center. Then he sucked hard on her tightened bud.
Muscles in her thighs tightened and she grasped two fistfuls of bear fur. Her hips bucked against his mouth. Damn, Train’s cock rubbed against the rug. Fluids seeped from the slit. Pressure built in his balls as he hardened further, his cock stretched and pulsed. Passion scented the air. The fire popped and she came. Liquid heat flowed from her into him. Shock waves of release jolted her body. She whimpered his name and her breath became erratic. “I can’t breathe,” she said panicked.
“Shhh.” Train pulled her into his arms and cradled her against his chest. “Take a breath.” Using his fingers, he combed her damp hair off her face. “How do you feel?” he asked once her breathing became normal.
“Alive, afraid,” she whispered. Then she pulled his mouth to hers. “Almost like a virgin.”
Train shifted his body until his hips were between her legs. Slow and controlled, using two fingers, then three, he made sure she was ready…but was he?
Resting his head in the hollow of her shoulder, he pressed the head of his cock to her passage. He was aware that he was bigger than most men were, but Marion had experienced many sizes. Because he wasn’t sure where he fit on the scale, he wanted to be sure that he wouldn’t hurt her. Biting his lip, he entered her slowly. He groaned when she wrapped around him like a glove. Raising her hips, she fully welcomed him inside her slippery tunnel. Holding her still, he ground against her, causing her to groan low and throaty.
“Marion.” He stilled and watched her face for signs of pain. “Am I hurting you?”
“Don’t stop,” she said breathlessly.
Train needed no further encouragement. Soft and tender were over. He had to take her, claim her for his own. He thrust himself into her with the force of a steam locomotive. Again and again, he drove in pushing her along the carpet. His cock thrust hard and deep. Each time he slammed into her, she cried out driving Train to pound harder. Faster. Marion stretched her arms above her to keep her head from hitting the sofa. Each thrust ripped a cry of pleasure from her. Her legs locked tight to him. He braced his arms on the carpet, dug in and fucked her. Muscles burned and his jaw clenched. His climax built. Pleasure streaked along his spine, pooled in his balls and he came. His cock flexed and hot cream surged along the length.
Marion wrapped her legs around his waist and held him close as he spent his seed deep inside her. Heavy breaths filled the room. Sweat trickled from his temple. Marion went limp after the flood ebbed. Still joined, he collapsed, damp from exertion. She tenderly stroked his hair letting her hand trail down the back of his neck.
“That’s talented.” Amusement flickered in his eyes.
“You like that.” Using her internal muscles, she squeezed him again.
Train attempted to withdraw, but she squinted her eyes and clenched him tighter. “If you’re ready, so am I.”
She released her death hold and slid out from under him. “Not on the floor again.” She leaned forward and he noticed the red rash along her spine.
“Oh hell, I’m sorry.” He touched the tender spots where the rug had burned her skin.
“You surprise me,” she said while snuggling up to him, leaning back against the sofa.
“Why is that?” he asked while caressing her shoulder.
Turning her face up, she kissed his chin. “Because I didn’t expect to be moved across the floor. I thought you’d be slow and patient, not make the Earth move.”
“You don’t know how relieved I am this didn’t happen when we slept at TJ and Allison’s.” She furrowed her brows. “Marion, you’re loud,” he said, then laughed.
“Well, you’re big,” she countered. “And you make me feel beautiful.” She kissed his lips and moved to sit on his lap with her legs wrapped around his waist.
Train cupped her buttocks in his hand. “So I guess you could say we’re both pleasantly surprised.”
“I can’t believe anything about me comes as a surprise. I’ve been throwing myself at you and taunting you at every opportunity.” She kissed him, lingering then demanding, savoring another moment. “From the beginning I knew we’d be good together.”
“I’ll talk about this just once and then I never want to hear, or think about your past again.” He laid his hand on the side of her face. “I don’t care beans whether it’s true or not, but you made me believe.” He kissed her again.
“Believe?” He was reading her mind. She, too, was beginning to believe. She could feel his love when he was inside her. Never had she been content to consider life with one man. She never thought a man could love her…or that she could love a man. Train left no room for anyone else in her thoughts, or now, in her body. “What do I make you believe?”
“That tonight was different. That I’m not like any before me.”
She squeezed her legs around him, bringing their centers close together. “I swear, not because I’m protecting your pride, I have never felt as I do right now.”
Train stood with Marion still wrapped around him. Keeping his hands on her ass to support her weight, he carried her to the bed and laid her down. Putting his knee between her legs, she spread her thighs for the touch of his hand. When she was damp with desire, he replaced his finger with his cock. He took painstaking time with his motion, filling her slow and steadily.
A response deep within her awakened as the muscles in her thighs tightened. Straining the muscles in her arms, Marion gripped the sheet at the side of her head as a flash of fire, like the brightest lightning in a summer thunderstorm, burst behind her eyelids radiating out until it consumed her. The raw act of possession, the whisper of her name on his lips as his body tensed and careened over the edge of control, shattered the walls she had so carefully built. Deep sobs erupted from her soul. Tears sprang to her eyes.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Immediately pulling out of her, he gathered her into his arms.
She fiercely clung to his neck. Uncontrollable tears spilled down her cheeks onto his shoulders. “Hold me, Train, just hold me.” Together they climbed beneath the covers and held tightly to each other.
The following morning, the idea of leaving her now gnawed at his gut. The uncertainty with the brothel only added to his uneasiness. Marion assured him the girls were receptive to the change in command, but some would undoubtedly harbor resentments toward Marion.
“When you return with the mares, I’ll be ready to leave for the ranch. I need to wait until I hear from Sandy’s brother. If he wants to stake claim on the brothel, I’m going to stay in town and fight. If I don’t, I’ll be letting the girls down. Our brothel is a safe place for them to live and work. If he tries to close me down, who knows where these girls will end up.”
“I’ll be gone ten days at the most. If he makes trouble, stall until I can get back. If he persists, you have one of the girls cover and you go for TJ. Promise, Marion, or I’ll ride for TJ now.” His expression turned serious.
“I suppose as my husband you have a right to be protective,” she said a touch of amusement tickling her tone.
“This could be serious. It’s not the time for foolishness. If there’s going to be trouble, I want myself or TJ handling it.”
“Yes sir.” She saluted.
“Careful, sweetheart, or someone might presume you’ve become an obedient wife.”
She laughed. “You’re not that lucky,” she said, then slapped his rear. They blew out the lamps before they left the hotel room.
“I’ll walk you in, but I can’t stay,” he said as he escorted her to the brothel. “Promise me you�
�ll be careful.”
“I have more reason to worry about you riding to Wyoming alone.”
He disagreed. Serving as madam of the brothel projected the wrong image to men who patronized the establishment, especially those who considered themselves regulars of hers. “Where will you sleep?”
“In my room--alone,” she said tersely. “Where would you like me to sleep?”
He wanted to say, with me, but decided she wouldn’t find him amusing.
“Sandy’s room has a lock,” she said as they walked through the parlor. “I’m safe here.” She tossed her carpetbag into Sandy’s office. “You should get going.” She stood before him in the hall. “I’ll miss you.” She gently brushed her lips against his.
“Take care,” he tipped his hat and quickly left the brothel.
Chapter Ten
Marion twisted the ring on her finger enjoying its feel and returned to Sandy’s office to sort through the remaining contents in the desk. Most of what she found seemed unimportant.
“Coffee?” Cassie stood in the doorway holding two cups. She crinkled her brows looking at several piles on the sofa and chair. “I was going to join you, but there’s no place for me to sit.”
Marion pointed to a clear spot on the floor. “It looks unorganized, but each pile is specific; one for garbage, one for papers related to the business, and over there are personal notes I thought her brother might appreciate.” Marion held up a stack of papers. “She saved everything.”
“Marion, come quick!” one of girls hollered for her. “The sheriff is here.” Marion jumped from her seat and rushed to the parlor.
“Can I help you?” she asked, stepping between Janine and Rebecca blocking her path.
A man blustered, passing a malevolent glare at everyone clustered in the hallway. “I presume you are the whore who contacted me regarding my sister’s death.”
Although not as tall as Marion, he stood ramrod stiff. Dressed in black from head to toe, he looked like the mission ministers that often came through town on their way to Blackfoot territory, but he had none of the kindness in his tone. A white starched collar ringed below a prominent Adam’s apple was the only thing breaking up the persona of stern taskmaster. An angry man, with lips curled into a snarl.
Sandy’s brother? Marion tried to comprehend the contradiction of putting this man in the same family with her friend. She raked her gaze over him, biting back a laugh at his thinning hair, cut short around the ears and swept long over the top to cover his growing balding spot.
“Mrs. Marion Spencer,” she said, allowing this man to experience the tone of defiance that was part of her character. “I sent the telegraph with my deepest condolences. You return the consideration by storming in here with the sheriff. I had every intention of meeting with you as I already explained.”
“Your convoluted wire is precisely why I am here,” he said, his black, beady eyes narrowing into slits. “As my sister’s only living relative, I’m here to collect her Earthly possessions. That includes this house of sin,” he bellowed, chest swelled as if he spoke from the pulpit. “I don’t know what type of charlatan you are, but my sister’s only salvation depends upon my cleansing the stain she left upon this world.”
Marion closed her eyes and counted to ten. It would not be wise to antagonize this man now, even though she wanted to cut his condescending tongue from his mouth. “If we could be civil to one another perhaps we could find a compromise. Would you care to sit in the kitchen and talk over a cup of coffee?”
He sucked in a sharp breath. “I should say not! You are a whore, Madam. I come with the sheriff to give you three days to vacate the building. Your contracts will be sold to the highest bidder.”
“That will be impossible,” she said with satisfaction filling her heart. “Sandy no longer carries contracts on the girls.” Marion folded her arms in front of her chest. “Just last week Sandy sold the brothel and the contracts to me.”
He sniffed, causing his nostrils to flare. “Impossible, Mrs. Spencer.” He spoke her name as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth. “You see, I own fifty percent of the building. The sheriff can attest to the clarity of the deed. In the event of my sister’s death, the building reverts to my sole proprietorship.” He brushed his sleeve as if removing dirt. “You have three days.” Without another word, he left.
“Can he do it?” Cassie put her hand on Marion’s arm. “Where will we go?”
“I don’t know,” she said cautiously. “I guess I better find out.”
Marion changed into the dress she wore to Allison’s wedding. It was most assuredly overstated, which was fine since she intended to leave a lasting impression. Perhaps a week ago she was a whore. However, today she was a married woman, and owner of a profitable business. She was not going to be dismissed as a stupid woman by an arrogant, narrow-minded man who didn’t recognize a fighter when he saw one. Sandy had taught her better than that.
She took the legal papers from Sandy’s office stating the purchase price paid in full. She’d have to give her husband a kiss when she saw him. If he hadn’t been determined to win her affection, she would have no claim to the brothel. She would have had to work for months to fulfill the contract.
“Cassie,” she said with determination. “Sandy kept a rifle under her bed. It’s loaded and ready to fire. If there’s trouble, I want you to get it. Hopefully, the sight of cold steel will be deterrent enough and you won’t have to shoot anyone.”
“I’m scared,” she whispered, hugging herself tightly. “I can’t believe this is happening. But you know what? I’m not leaving. I don’t care what that beady-eyed jerk says.”
“Sandy thought he might cause problems.” Marion straightened her lace-trimmed collar, studying her reflection. “I’m sure she thought of all possibilities.”
* * *
It started out as a drizzle. The temperatures quickly dropped as Train traversed the narrow canyons into Wyoming. His impressive sense of direction never led him astray. With the sun as a guide, he could find his way anywhere. However, black ominous clouds overhead caused him a problem. Disorientation loomed to impede his journey in the growing dimness. Time to find shelter until the storm passed.
Clive fought against the wind, neighing with the mounting tension of the rider. In the middle of nowhere, Train was halfway to his destination. He pushed Clive until they were through the mountains, but the flat land ahead of them could be more treacherous. Mountains offered protection from the wind. However, finding a suitable shelter from the rain, and possible snow on the steep terrain would be difficult.
Train pulled his woolen collar close around his neck and thought about Marion, warm and welcoming, beneath him to help keep the cold at bay. The lusty way she responded to his touch had driven him crazy. He’d never been impatient with a woman, but Marion had been unlike any previous experience. Nothing compared to the feeling of being inside his wife. It was like coming home after a long ride. He’d never imagined fitting a woman so perfectly.
The men ribbed enough times. He wasn’t lacking in size. It was incredible to know Marion found pleasure in his body. One of his greatest concerns had been that he wouldn’t be able to satisfy her, making her regret marriage or worse, she’d return to the brothel. He no longer had that fear.
A grove of trees with thick trunks and heavy canopy caught his attention. It wasn’t much protection for Clive. He figured he could use dead branches for a nice fire, and the saddle blankets would warm the horse.
“Come on.” He spurred Clive. “Another day, another delay.”
Once settled, and with a small fire to fight the chill, he waited for the weather to clear.
Train rested a few hours during the night despite the icy cold drizzle soaking the blankets and bedroll. He tried to create a shelter from branches and brush. Howling through the trees, the wind spooked Clive and kept the heat of the fire from penetrating into his wet clothing.
Sunrise brought little relief from the chill. Althoug
h still overcast, the rain had stopped. Train changed into dry clothing. The ground was soft and muddy. His boots sank into an inch of sludge as he saddled Clive. “Sorry,” he said to his horse as he mounted. “We’re both going to be miserable today.” Slowly, so the horse could have sure footing, he continued through the mountain pass. He figured that at this slower pace, it would be another full day’s ride before he reached the horse ranch. He pulled his hat low and hunkered down for the bitter ride.
* * *
Marion sat in the office with a copy of the property deed in her lap and a bottle of whiskey in her hand. She had no claim to the building, but basically had a harem of slaves. Sandy had failed to remember that she could not legally sell the building.
“We don’t have a chance. He wins, and we lose.” Marion met Cassie’s stare then took a swig from the bottle. “I admit I enjoyed watching the weasel squirm when Sheriff Brady told Mr. Jensen he didn’t have access to Sandy’s money.”
Cassie took the bottle and drank. “So the money, the contracts, and all this…” She handed back their shared bottle and splayed her hands wide implying all the furnishings. “…belongs to you?”
“That’s how the sheriff sees it. Mr. Ezra Jensen owns the building, but he doesn’t own us.” Marion lit a cigarette and leaned back.
“Mr. Weasel doesn’t know the sheriff like you do.” Cassie giggled. “I thought he was going to shoot himself in the foot when you introduced yourself. This town is going to be shocked when word spreads about you getting married. Train better watch his back. A few friends of yours aren’t going to be happy about your retirement.”
“I wouldn’t worry about Train. He carries a big gun.”
Cassie licked her lips and smiled. “Lucky you.”
Two days after Marion received the news about the brothel she went to the livery to ask if there was an able man to ride to the Bester Ranch with an urgent message. For a small fee, the rider agreed to take her letter to TJ and immediately rode out of town.
