by Reece Butler
His cock jerked, demanding to plow into her, now! He agreed. He didn’t care where, be it mouth, breasts, pussy, or ass, just that he brand her as his.
Under white man’s law, she belonged to him, and he could do whatever he wanted to her. Lend her to his friends, ignore her, or beat her to near death. It was his right, just because both of their names were written on a piece of paper. It was not his way. When he claimed something, it was his. Child, woman, or horse.
His cock strained against his buttons. He couldn’t hold back a groan. He knew the second he woke her. She faked it well, but her deep breathing missed a beat before starting again. The clincher was her right breast, the one lit by the slanting moon. As he watched, a large nipple rose to strain against her nightgown. In case he missed it, the shadow thrown by the moon exaggerated its size.
Ross exhaled all the tension he hadn’t realized he carried. As soon as she knew he was near, her nipple sat up and begged for his touch. He considered that a very good start for an Eastern virgin. He could almost feel the way that nipple would roll around his tongue. He took a few deep breaths to make sure he could speak without his voice breaking like an eager boy.
“Good evening, Mrs. MacDougal,” he finally said. “I know you’re awake.”
She stiffened and opened her eyes. He stood in shadow, watching her. Mother Moon had never lit up a more beautiful sight.
“I was just resting my eyes,” she drawled. “I didn’t know when you’d arrive.”
She set her jaw when he didn’t immediately reply. She reached out her hand and pulled the top sheet over her. He let her hide, for now. Gillis told him to do anything and everything to make sure she accepted him as her husband. That meant pleasuring her a few times before he made her his. He was up for that. Literally.
“Are you going to just stand there and stare at me? I’ve had a long journey and would like to get back to sleep.”
Knowing she couldn’t see, he let a grin escape. Prue was demanding but in a surface way. She was easily pleased by material things. This younger sister not only had a backbone, she had a pert tongue. Making her angry would mean she’d need spanking. Soothing her afterward would be worth damn near anything she said.
“You tired?” He still didn’t move, waiting for her reaction. Would she invite him into her bed, ignore him or—
“Yes. Close the door behind you on the way out, thank you.”
She rolled over on her side, again facing away. The sheet hid what he wanted to touch. Such as the curved ass begging to be spanked for her impertinence. He shut the door loudly then waited. He didn’t move but didn’t try to hide his breathing, either. For some reason, he couldn’t control the heavy rasps as he inhaled deep.
“You’re on the wrong side of the door, Mr. MacDougal.”
Her voice cracked on the last word, showing her indifference as a lie. She chose the wrong man if she thought she could control him.
“Nope.”
He moved so his body was in the light but his head still in shadow. He pulled his white shirt from his pants. She whipped her head around at the sound, looking over her right shoulder. He unbuttoned his cuffs, watching her watch him. When he continued with the shirt, she rolled partway back to face him.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking off my shirt.”
“Why?”
She sounded snippy, but nipples didn’t lie. The room was too warm for them to rise in chill. No, she was hot. And he was damn well going to make her hotter.
“I’ve been working since sunup. Instead of sleeping, I rode all the way to town to meet my wife. I want my bed.”
“You’re not getting in this bed with me!”
He unhooked his belt and slowly slid it out of the loops. She watched as if it was a leather snake, slithering toward her.
“Who am I, Mrs. MacDougal?”
She rolled onto her back and clutched the sheet to her chin with both fists. She shifted her gaze to where his face would be.
“You’re my husband, Nevin.”
He rolled up his belt and placed it on the table as he strolled to the far side of the bed.
“Nope. I’m your husband, Ross.”
For a moment she stared then shook her head silently.
“No!” She scrabbled to the far side of the bed, taking the sheet with her. “I married Nevin, the quiet, nice one, not the MacDougal Devil!”
That was the problem with a bad reputation. People believed it. He sighed.
“You want me to turn on a light and show you the contract, wife?”
“No!” She covered her left cheek and ear with her hand. “Why aren’t you Nevin?”
“Because I’m Ross.”
She lay there, eyes wide and chin quivering. He sighed and rested a shoulder against the wall. He put his weight on one leg and rested the toe of the other on the floor. She swallowed, blinking a few times. After a moment, her breathing slowed from mad panic.
“What did your sister tell you about me?”
“People told her you were a vicious killer who put dozens of men in the ground. You always have ravens around you and carry three knives. You like to throw them at people.”
She pressed her lips together as if debating whether to go on.
“You weren’t rude though you usually grunted your answers. She wasn’t sure if you could speak English very well, but you understood it. And when you thought no one was looking, you liked to play with her friend’s baby.”
He didn’t know Prue saw him playing with James Elliott. Every child was a joy to be cherished, and Trace’s boy was a rascal, eager to grab his long hair and chew on it.
“I only kill men who need it,” he said. “Ravens are better company than most men. I always carry two knives in my side sheath and one in my boot. They go where I throw them. I know a few manners, and as you see, I speak English.”
He waited for her reaction.
“What about the baby?” She frowned up at him. “Playing with a baby doesn’t match your tough reputation.” She forced a rusty laugh. “Vicious killers wouldn’t want that to get out.” When he didn’t reply, she gave a small shrug as if it didn’t matter. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“Yes, I do. I want a marriage based on truth.”
“Truth?” This laugh was pure sarcasm. “I thought I signed a marriage contract with Nevin MacDougal. That’s hardly the truth.”
He scratched his chin. “Yes, well, that had nothing to do with me.”
She gasped. She scrambled to sit up. “Nothing to do with you? How, when you signed the paper and mailed it to me long before Prue had her baby!”
Do not look at her chest. Do not check to see if the sheet slipped.
His perfect control snapped. She sat cross-legged in the bed with the sheet resting in her lap. Her breasts were full and round, and her nipples pointed right at him. He stared.
“Ross MacDougal, did you hear me?”
Her breasts jiggled when she shook her finger at him. She finally realized why he was silent and slid into the bed once more, sheet at her chin
“It’s rude to stare!”
He continued to look his fill. He’d kept his cock under control all his life. His family knew him for never showing emotion. All those beatings and never did he cry. Why the hell did the tiny woman in the big bed make him feel like a sixteen-year-old with his first woman?
“Not,” he growled, “when you’re my wife.”
She shut her mouth, but the glare was still there. Though he cursed the effect she had on him, one thing was sure. This marriage, if she agreed to go through with it, would be a challenge. She had fire and gumption, which, if he was lucky, meant passion between the sheets as well. He enjoyed challenges, especially when the rewards would be high. If he played his cards right, he’d have a warm bed and hot woman whenever he was home. Nevin could keep her happy the rest of the time. Slow but definite steps were needed.
He walked to the bed and sat. Not too close, but enough to let
her know he wasn’t backing down. She didn’t move away, but she watched him very carefully.
“Here’s some truth. Only my family knows I also carry another four knives that I keep hidden. I didn’t want that reputation. When the townies laid it on me, I made sure it stuck.”
“Did I marry a bully?”
“Nope. If you’re the meanest son of a”—he switched words when he saw her eyebrows coming together—“a gun around, trouble avoids you. It helps keep the MD ranch safe.”
He bent his right leg and rested his ankle on his knee. Having never worn a suit before, he hadn’t appreciated the advantages. The loose material didn’t bind his cock like work pants. If he’d been in his usual canvas pants, there was no way he could sit. He held his ankle to give his hands something to do so he wouldn’t reach out and touch the near-naked woman lying beside him. The woman he had a legal right to throw on her back and take as often as he liked. As hard as he liked. And damn, he had never been harder in his life.
“Because I’m older than Nev, Gil said I had to marry you because you had no choice but to accept me.” He winced at her gasp in response, but damn it, she’d best know the truth from the get-go.
“We need sons to inherit the land. Gil and Prue had a daughter. If our first child is a girl, Nev will marry. He shouldn’t have a problem as he’s good with the ladies. I’m not.” He looked at her though his long hair hid his face. “It’s too late to do anything about it. The MacDougal insists we have a son as soon as possible. I’m ready to start.”
Her chin trembled. He had a destiny, one of vengeance. He didn’t like taking Amelia as a wife just to satisfy their father’s ridiculous requirement. But honesty and respect would get them through. A bit of caring would help, but Nevin would be able to provide it. Hell, Nev might even end up loving her. Then they wouldn’t need him anymore.
“I thought my husband wanted me,” she whispered. Her hands clenched the sheet high under her chin. “The women on the train didn’t know who they would marry or what would happen. I thought I was so much better off. I was already married to my brother-in-law, a man my sister said was kind and gentle. A man who wanted me as his wife!”
Tears glistened in her eyes, but she hardened her voice for the last sentence. After his sister Louisa’s temper tantrums and pouts, he didn’t trust women who used tears to get what they wanted. But though tears slid down her face, she didn’t make a sound. Instead, she gritted her teeth and glared.
He held back a grin of appreciation. This woman would fight for what she wanted. But would she want him? Though near-naked and defenseless, she glared up at him from the bed. She crossed her arms, plumping up her breasts as if to offer them. He wanted them…and her. More, he wanted this small, feisty woman to want him. It was a crazy idea. No one wanted him, other than Gil and Nevin, and Gil wanted him for stud service. There was no reason they couldn’t both enjoy it.
“I want you, but the timing of this marriage is bad. I had to put aside important things.” Did she sniff back tears? No, it was more of a snort. “We’re stuck with each other. We might as well make the best of it, princess.”
“I’m not a princess.”
“You’ve got soft, white skin. You come from the city. Your father had money. That means all you were trained to do was bat your eyes and be pretty. Well, that don’t mean a damn out here.”
She opened her mouth in outrage, but he kept on going.
“I work hard, and I expect my wife to do the same. I want decent hot food, clean clothes, and a tidy home.”
“Are you finished?” Her tears were gone, which meant the snippy attitude was back.
“Couple more things.” He held up his first finger. “When I give an order, you obey it.” Second finger. “I want my wife in my bed, every night.” Third. “I’m big, loud, and ornery.” He let go of his fourth finger. “Don’t expect me to change who I am just because I have a wife.” He opened his palm, holding it up nice and easy as if he was saying “howdy.”
“Does that mean you have a number five?”
“Nope,” he drawled, low and slow. “That’s what I use on my wife when she doesn’t follow the rules.”
She shrunk, wincing as if he’d already hit her. “Prue said MacDougal men don’t beat women!” She stared at his hand.
“I don’t beat women, children, or animals. But I will spank my wife if she needs it.”
She gasped, but not in fear. The sheet rose and fell as she panted. Her nipple buds pushed up the sheet, and her nostrils flared. Damn, did his luck change and he got a woman who liked to have fun?
“I will not let you spank me!”
“You sure about that?”
She sputtered what might be curses. Considering the company she had to keep to get this far, she likely heard a good variety. She’d not be using them on him.
“Are you breathing hard because you’re afraid I’ll spank you?” He lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned closer. “Or are you hot and wet because you want my hand on your ass?”
She huffed and puffed. He’d bet a hundred dollars it wasn’t outrage that riled herit was that he was right.
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting an edge of pain with your loving now and then.” Her hands fidgeted with the sheet. “That’s something to work up to, so I won’t be doing that for a while. Are you inviting me to lie down?”
Though he seemed relaxed, he wanted her with a heat he’d never felt before. His patience, honed from listening to the grandfathers speak, from waiting for his dinner to come into his path, didn’t exist with this woman. While he waited for her answer, his body trembled, for God’s sake!
She seemed calmer but still pleated that sheet. She flicked her eyes around the dim room. He made himself give her all the time she needed to come to a decision. It was the most important one of their future life. After swallowing a few times, she exhaled and looked to the shadow where he waited.
“I don’t know,” she finally whispered.
“Say, come to me, husband,” he growled. He listened to her silence with the same sense that kept him alive more than once. She was thinking so hard he could almost hear the gears shift. She twitched.
“Prue said she always felt safe when Gillis held her in the night.”
“Now that you’re married to me, you’ll always be safe. But I plan to do more than hold you tonight.” His deep voice was rough with need.
She panted, the pulse at her throat beating as fast as his own heart. He stood up, tossed off his shirt, and turned back to the bed. She gasped and threw out her arm to point at his feet.
“You’re not going to leave your good shirt on the floor! Someone will have to press it in the morning before we go down to breakfast, and that won’t be me.”
He stared at her frown, thanking the Gods it wasn’t fear that made her gasp. He snorted a laugh. “You already sound like a wife.”
“Your shirt?”
He swept it from the floor and placed it on a peg sticking out of the wall by the door.
“Hang up your pants while you’re at it.”
He stopped with his hand still lifted. He hadn’t planned to strip naked yet. But if the lady wanted to speed things up, so much the better.
“You don’t seem to be like Gillis,” she continued. “Prue said he’s big, wide, red, and hairy. I can’t see you very well, but you’re not wide.”
“Nev and I look a lot alike,” he said as he carefully shucked his pants, “because we have the same mother. Gillis has more of our father in him.”
“Oh. I guess I wouldn’t have recognized you from the window.”
“When did you look out the window?” Had she seen him go into the mercantile to pick up the suit Patsy Tanner pressed for him?
“While I was waiting for my bath to be ready.” She dipped her head as if shy. “Thank you for that. I’ve never had a tub bath. It was wonderful.”
He grunted in reply. Damn good thing Trace bought a tub after they married. No way was he returning th
e big one the Elliotts gave Prudence as a wedding present. He’d wash Amelia all over, covering her body in rose-scented soap. After rinsing, he’d lick every inch of her dry, inside and out.
He lifted the shirt with shaking hands, hung the pants on the hook, and then placed the shirt over them. He angled his body away from the bed so she’d not catch a shadow of the massive erection pointing forward. He wanted to come in her so bad, right now! But she was a virgin. Do it wrong the first time, and she wouldn’t want a second. Do it right, and he’d have her screaming her release again and again, all night long.
“You ever seen a cock, Amelia?” The silence stretched.
“I don’t think you mean a male rooster,” she finally said.
“No, I mean the man’s part that fits in the woman.”
“Oh.” She fiddled with the sheet, pleating it. “That’s what the man uses to make babies?”
“Eventually, yes,” he ground out.
She was even more ignorant than he expected. Trace had warned him that Eastern women were taught little about sex other than to keep their knees closed before marriage.
“Prue said I would have a home here for as long as I wanted.” He could hear the tension as she struggled to breathe. “You said you need sons. I want a home. Even if making a baby hurts a lot, and you do it every night, I’ll have a place to belong.”
She spoke as if she’d put up with being raped every night just to have a place to live in. He dropped his head back and exhaled. How many women were stuck with that existence? Too many, he knew. He was going to make damn sure she learned about pleasure tonight.
“You have a home now,” he whispered. “And I’ll kill anyone who dares to hurt you.”
The second sentence came out before he knew it. He hoped she hadn’t heard it. He didn’t care about her like that, of course. Everyone knew if he discovered someone hurting a child or woman, they soon wished they were dead. He usually granted that wish, eventually. He looked over when she cleared her throat.
“Can you give me a baby now?”
Christ! His cock jerked, pre-cum easing out. He thought of how damn cold that stream was in early spring with the snowmelt. Imagined himself sitting in the middle of it, his cock shriveled from the ice. He gripped his fists with everything he had so he wouldn’t rip off her nightgown and plunge deep in her sweet, hot, virgin pussy.
