Southern Seduction [Bride Train 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Reece Butler

  She hadn’t had a chance to speak with anyone for more than a few minutes at her wedding, but she’d felt accepted. It brought a warm feeling to her heart. She wanted to belong, to the ranch and the town. She’d brought nothing into their marriage but herself and her skills. Thanks to her grandmother, she could now prove she wasn’t beholden to them. Then she could hold her head up whether she was pouring tea with fancy-dressed ladies or wearing pants and shirt while hunting rock-chucks for supper.

  “But I did marry, and that’s why I want to buy something the ranch needs.”

  Byron’s hand twitched on her breast. “Don’t know what Cole thinks about our wife buying things for us,” he said, grumbling.

  “It’s not for you, it’s for the Sweetwater Ranch. And it would make me happy.”

  Byron hesitated. She held herself still, waiting as patiently as she could. Never in her life had she given a bought-and-paid-for gift. She had to do something to thank them for the lace dress. Even if she only wore it once a year, carefully hanging it on the wall as decoration the rest of the time, it was still a wonderful thing to own. Something pretty, and extravagant, to prove that she wasn’t a dirt-poor, clan-feuding mountain woman.

  Her heart thudded at the thought of opening the wooden box from her grandmother. She couldn’t wait to take it home and discover what was inside. She bit her lip and blinked hard. Her breath shuddered out. If what Gibson said was true, someday she could invite someone over and give them tea. Real tea, in real cups. Maybe by then they’d have furniture in the parlor. She’d seen a horsehair sofa once, with what they called a camel back. She’d never seen a camel, of course, but it was supposed to be like a sand-colored horse with a hump on its back.

  The bank draft saying she had money was just a piece of paper to her. Byron’s strong, warm arms around her, raising her desire, was real. Going home to Cole and Marshall, was real. The possibility of friends to laugh with and children to love, was real.

  “Well,” said Byron reluctantly, “there’s that bull Cole’s had his eye on. Ranger wants a good price for it. The bull’s worth it, but Cole decided not to buy it this year.”

  “Because he married me?”

  “That’s not it.”

  Casey heard the tones in Byron’s voice. She tilted her head to look up at him. The corners of his eyes crinkled a bit. Something was definitely different about him, but she couldn’t tell what it was.

  “Well, that was some of it, yes,” he admitted. “We could use that bull in our breeding program. It’s shorter and stubbier than most longhorns, better for the colder climate up here.”

  His hand finally moved, caressing her breast. She held still so that he wouldn’t think she was complaining and stop touching her.

  “Then the Sweetwater Ranch will buy that bull with my money,” she said.

  She knew what poked her in the lower back. It was something she wanted to get very familiar with, very soon. It made her think of the bull, and she giggled.

  “What’s so darn funny?”

  She pressed her lips together and looked up. A trace of a smile hovered around Byron’s lips. His blue eyes darkened as her breast got firmer under his hand.

  “Buying a bull when I’ve got three of my own.”

  He burst into a laugh, rolled her onto her back, and leaned over her. His palm caressed her cheek.

  “We’ve got proof that Ranger’s bull can perform. You just had a night with Cole, but maybe you need to learn my cock works just as well. Maybe even better.”

  He nudged his groin against her. She touched him through his pants. He hissed.

  “I need more action and less talk,” she murmured.

  His eyes widened at her demand. He growled and attacked, nibbling and tickling her. She shrieked, laughing and fighting to escape. After a moment he released her and rolled onto his back.

  “Have your wicked way with me, woman. I’ve been working since before sunup while you snored.”

  Casey attacked his clothes. It wasn’t long before she was the only one dressed. Wanting to prove she was in charge, she put one foot on the mattress. While Byron watched with wide eyes, she slowly drew her shift up until the top of her stocking appeared. His rough breathing filled the room as she rolled it down her leg at the same slow pace. He watched with his hands folded behind his head. He pretended to be relaxed but his chest moved up and down far too quickly for that. She switched feet. This time she lifted her shift even higher. As if by chance, she angled herself so he could see between her thighs.

  “I swear,” he said, almost gasping, “I don’t know if you look better naked or in that pretty dress.”

  Impatient, she pulled her shift off and carefully laid it on her dress. When she turned back to face him, he groaned. His cock, narrower but longer than the others, angled toward his chest.

  “You up for a ride, cowboy?” she drawled.

  Byron’s cock nodded his answer. She laughed and climbed on the bed, kneeling astride his thighs. He reached for her arms. He held her until she was poised above him on her knees. She stared at him as she lowered herself until his cock barely touched her pussy lips. Sweat broke out on his brow and temples. He bared his teeth, jaw tight.

  He was waiting for her, she realized. No matter how much he wanted to fill her with his need, she was the one in control. Instead of the slow torture she’d decided on, she sank slowly down his cock. He was much narrower than Cole, so her tissues easily expanded to take him. But he was far longer

  “Mmm,” she murmured when she was fully seated. She arched her back, thrusting her breasts toward him. He took the hint, filling his hands with them. He tugged and she leaned forward, her hands by his ears, so that he could taste her. He watched her intensely as he scraped her nipples between his teeth. She hissed at the intense jolt. He winked, and did it again. She contracted her pussy muscles. This time he had the jolt.

  “You’re playing with fire,” he warned.

  She laughed and did it again. He pinched her nipples, daring her with his eyes to complain. She lifted her pelvis, making sure her breasts stayed in his hands. A long, slow slide up, then even slower on the way down. She did it again, watching him. He stared at her breasts, his teeth locked in a snarl. A vein at his temple throbbed. She squirmed against his groin, rubbing her clit on his pubic bone.

  “Hot enough for you?” She drawled the words.

  His eyes narrowed as his nostrils flared. He moved his hands to her hips and rolled sideways, taking her with him. She squeaked, finding herself on her back with Byron on top of her. On top and inside. This time he was the one moving in and out. He dragged his belly over hers as he moved, scraping her clit. She closed her eyes, shuddering at the mini-blast that blew through her. When she opened them he was on his elbows, his face inches above her. She stared into his eyes.

  “Time for a kiss,” he said. “A real one. Think you can handle it?”

  She nodded. Nothing she’d experienced so far had overwhelmed her, at least, not to frighten her. She enjoyed being overwhelmed by their passion, and wanted more of it.

  He dipped his head, swiping soft lips past hers in a tease. She grabbed his head and held him still. She looked at his mouth.

  “You shaved your moustache! Oh, Byron, you’ve had it for so long. Why?”

  “I want to kiss you without it getting in the way.”

  He nuzzled her lips. She opened her own. He flicked his tongue over her teeth, then between her teeth and her mouth. A burst of need hit. She grabbed his ears, pulled him tight and thrust her tongue back. He pressed his lips hard against hers, grinding down on her while his tongue fought inside her mouth. His power and need inflamed her. She turned her head, sucking his tongue into her mouth.

  He finally had to pull back. Both of them gasped, fighting to breathe.

  “Now that is a kiss,” he said between pants. He went up on his hands and pumped his cock into her a few times. She gripped him hard. “Those pussy lips of yours are just as greedy as your mouth. I’m goi
ng to lick and suck them as hard as I did these.”

  He dipped his arms and gave her a quick kiss. His cock went deep, beyond what she’d felt with Cole.

  “Spread your legs and wrap them around me,” he ordered. She lifted her feet and, when she had them positioned, he stroked again. Deeper. It felt like he hit the end of her channel.

  “Oh, yes,” she said, groaning. “That feels so good.”

  “How about this, then?” He moved and did something different.

  “Yes! Oh, please, do it again!”

  He did, and once more. Each time she groaned, exhaling as he thrust. He lifted one hand and touched her clit with his thumb. She arched. He grinned and wiggled his thumb. The spark from her clit made her pussy explode. She curled, holding her breath and position as her orgasm jumped to a peak. She gasped a breath, but he did it again, and again. Harder and deeper. She grunted with every thrust until he slammed deep, roaring her name, and everything went black.

  * * * *

  “Sorry, but we don’t have time to take the wagon,” said Byron.

  He hated to make her ride astride after all the sex she’d had with him and Cole. But while she slept after their second bout of lovemaking he’d gone downstairs for a snack. Sophie told him that the fall gather was to start first thing in the morning. They had a lot of work to do before gathering all the valley cattle and sending them off. He winced when Casey looked longingly at the large wooden crate, but she nodded her agreement. She’d put her shirt and pants back on, leaving the cream dress to be delivered with the crate.

  “You’ll be too busy cooking to miss it,” he added. She nodded, set her jaw, and turned away. “Sophie said the other wives are looking forward to meeting you again.”

  “Don’t tell anyone about the money,” she said. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to tell Willy, and he should know before others.”

  Byron nodded. He and Gibson had already agreed about that. Gibson had passed on his concerns about Casey’s safety. As far as they were concerned, the fewer who knew about her newfound wealth, the better. She’d be safe, surrounded by people for the next week as they rounded up all the cattle in the valley. Trace and Ross agreed that the sun should hold once today’s rain passed. Since they’d lived here longer than anyone else, no one disagreed with their weather sense. They mounted up and rode northeast, heading cross-country.

  “You didn’t wake me to talk with that Pinkerton agent,” said Casey after a few minutes.

  Byron kept the pace slow. She’d just had her first sex, and she’d been wild and demanding. Instead of his cock being sore while riding like it had been since he found out she was female, he was in great shape. He expected her pussy was tender, however.

  “I figured you could use the sleep.” She turned her head, eyeing him from under her hat. He rolled his eyes, recognizing her demand. “Yes, Casey. I wanted to talk to him alone.”

  “Aren’t you going to tell me anything?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I never expected to hear about my family again,” he admitted. “Since Gibson was in the area, he checked all of us out.”

  He waited, but Casey stayed quiet. Since she didn’t demand, he told her. He hadn’t had much time to think about it, and was still numb. He stared between the horse’s ears as he spoke.

  “Gibson said my parents got into a big fight one night. Both were drinking, with the door bolted, as usual.” His laugh was full of sarcasm. “My mother loved to throw things at my father. This time she threw an oil lamp. It hit his head and exploded. He fell to the floor, taking the drapes with him. The fire spread to the sofa. The servants had learned to ignore my mother’s screams. She couldn’t get the door open without the key, which was in my father’s pocket.” He swallowed, fighting his imagination. “The servants managed to save most of the house. No one else was killed. If I was still there, as the oldest son, I’d have inherited the whole estate.”

  “Oh, no!”

  Casey tried to approach but he waved her away. Their horses did not get along, and if she tried to comfort him, she was likely to end up thrown. He wasn’t sure why it hurt that his parents were dead. Maybe a small part of him wished that they’d accept him one day. That was no longer possible. He sighed from the bottom of his lungs.

  “None of my brothers and sisters admitted they remembered me.” That was the part that hurt. Not even his little sister, the one he’d held so much, cared about him. Cole’s parents might be alive somewhere, but his cousin didn’t want to know. He said they’d abandoned him so he’d shut that barn door long ago. Byron didn’t blame him in the least, but…

  “You hear anything about Marshall?” A light flush rose in Casey’s cheeks. “Sorry,” she added. “It would be best to tell him about this before me.”

  “Actually, I think it would be best you told Marshall.” She tilted her head in a silent question. “Unfortunately, Marshall’s father is still doing well. He married his daughters to his cronies. Both grooms were just as tight with money, so they held a double wedding.” Byron had never met his aunts and uncles. After hearing about them from Grandpa, he’d been glad. But he might have enjoyed knowing a cousin or two. “Both girls died birthing their first children, within a month of each other. Then their mother overdosed on morphine. The servants said she did it on purpose, to escape her husband.” He gave Casey an encouraging nod. “Marshall needs to know that his mother is finally free.”

  “Just as I’m free of my father and Bart,” she said quietly.

  “You want to tell me anything more about this Bart?”

  They’d just met when Casey told Byron about her pappy wanting to sell her. She’d been scared of him, and pretending to be a boy. More information would give him a better idea how to make sure none of them said anything that would make her feel as bad.

  Casey scrunched up her face. She exhaled, hard.

  “Most girls were married off by fourteen, usually to cousins. Many of them died birthing their first babies.” She turned her hazel eyes on him. “When you’re all alone, having your first baby is hard.”

  Byron’s breakfast turned to rock in his stomach. Too many women died in childbirth or shortly after. Leaving a young wife to birth a baby alone was the same thing as murder in his mind. Murder and torture.

  “From what I’ve heard,” he said, “having a baby is hard anytime. If we’re blessed with you having a child, you will never be left alone near the end. Either Doc or Nevin’s Auntie and Sunbird will be with you. And us, of course. We care about you too much to have anything happen to you.”

  She blushed. He didn’t think she even noticed that her free hand dropped to rest below her belly button.

  “Since there weren’t many women, even though I was ugly Bart wanted me. He started pestering me when Mama died. He kept asking Pappy, but he said no. He wanted to trade me to his cousins to marry. They, um, didn’t want to marry me, so I took care of Pappy and my brothers.”

  Byron sensed there was more to the story of why her cousins didn’t want her, but they had years to talk it over.

  “But then your pappy ran out of moonshine,” he said, prompting her.

  “You don’t know what that meant to Pappy. He had nothing but me and Willy. The cabin was falling down because he didn’t even try to fix the roof. But when he had a stash of ’shine he had friends coming by, happy to see him.” She gave a sound of contempt. “They didn’t give a damn about Pappy, just what he could give them. So when he ran out of ’shine early that spring, he was missing more than his weekly, or daily, drunk. He had no cash money, but he went down the mountain anyway. Willy followed him.” She smiled absently.

  She rode for a bit without speaking. Byron kept quiet, patiently waiting for her to be ready.

  “When Willy heard Pappy tell Bart he could have me, he lit out for home. We dug up the gold we’d saved and took off west. Just like Mama told us.”

  Byron already knew it was to escape her father selling her into prostitution. He let the silence e
ase their tension as they rode.

  “You realize the only relative the four of us have is the grandmother you just found out about,” said Byron. “And Willy, of course. You think this money might make him want to stay instead of heading to California in the spring?”

  Casey turned her head toward him. She’d hidden the sadness he’d seen a few minutes earlier. He did the same, letting her set the mood.

  “Don’t you remember what my brother said to Cole before the judge married us?”

  “That he would be staying nice and close to make sure Cole treated his big sister right.” No, Willy wouldn’t desert Casey. He’d proved that by saving her from their father, and then setting her up with a job on their ranch.

  “There was Willy,” continued Byron, “a seventeen-year-old string bean in a borrowed coat telling Cole Taylor what for.” Byron laughed, remembering Cole’s surprise at Willy’s tough stance. Surprise and respect.

  “Don’t laugh,” she replied ominously. “Willy’s real good at setting snares. Man or beast, he can catch anything. I think he had something to do with the last two of my fiancés getting killed. He didn’t like what they said about me.”

  “That you were an ornery woman who can cook up a storm?”

  Byron said it with a grin, which wasn’t returned. She shook her head with such a sad look that he braced for her answer. He realized Casey was like a sweet onion. As he learned about her, peeling off one layer after another, the sweeter he discovered she was. There were a lot of scabs and rough spots on her surface but over time he and his cousins would reveal the woman beneath. He could be patient, knowing the reward would be great. But she’d need a lot of caring to remove those ugly layers caused by her first twenty-one years.

  “No,” she replied far too quietly. “They said they would chain me to the stove and beat me until I learned my place. Just like Pappy did to Mama.”