The Outlaw (Montana Men Book 3)

by Vanessa Vale

  "Start at the beginning, Caroline." I took her hand from my cheek, held it.

  She looked at our joined hands.

  "I killed Meecham. It was an accident. My father. I murdered my father."

  What? She murdered her father? Surely it was self-defense. She'd used the words killed and murdered as if they had two different meanings.

  "How?" Stevens asked.

  Caroline's eyes flicked to mine, then back to our hands. "Laudanum."

  Hell. The letter from Mrs. Bidwell made sense now. It all made sense. "She matched you with Meecham, Sr. knowing he was an abusive asshole and sent you the laudanum to kill him. She knew what you did to your father."

  "She was giving me my freedom," she replied.

  "At what price?" I asked, my voice rising. "She expected you to be at the old man's mercy for what, three, four days? He would have fucked you. Hurt you. Used you. You would have been scarred - most definitely emotionally, possibly even physically. For what?"

  I stood then, pacing the small space.

  "You're not a woman so you wouldn't understand."

  Running my hand over my hair, I spun to face her. She seemed so small, so defenseless sitting there. Yet she was a murderer. "You should be well aware of that by now," I grumbled. "Fine. Tell me what I don't understand."

  She glanced at Stevens, then at me. Held my gaze. "Women don't have choices. No escape from a miserable existence. My father was awful. Cruel. Evil. I would have done anything to be free of him. I did. Mrs. Bidwell knew that and knew that a day or two with Meecham, Sr. was a price I'd be willing to pay. I would have endured, but I'd have been free. Wealthy and free to do with my life as I wished."

  I didn't want to understand, but I did. A woman was at the mercy of the man in her life. She would be truly free as a widow with means. Mrs. Bidwell had all but handed that to her.

  "Are you going to arrest me?" she asked Stevens, her chin high.

  God, I loved her. In that moment I knew I'd love her the rest of my life. She'd, murdered the man who'd destroyed her childhood and she was willing to face the consequences. Hell, men killed much more gruesomely over a simple card game. If a man punched me, I punched back. The rules of the west were different. Scores were settled the old fashioned way without much intervention from the law.

  Caroline thought that I cared she'd murdered the man who'd beat her for years? "Jesus, Caroline, he's not going to arrest you. Probably give you a medal for taking an asshole off the streets. Your father beat you. It was self-defense."

  Tears continued to stream down her face as she spoke. Instead of defending herself, she was telling us why she should go to jail. Why she was guilty of murder. She was too honorable by half.

  "Yes, but I planned it. The whole thing."

  "It may have been pre-meditated, but it was self-defense," I repeated.

  "Did the police question you?" Stevens asked.

  She nodded, using the back of her hand to wipe away her tears. "Yes. They knew him to be a drunk and ruled it an accident."

  "That was your intention, correct?"

  I stood and just listened as Stevens tried to assuage her guilt. That's what it was. Guilt. She felt guilty for her bad deed.

  "Yes. No one would marry me, for my father kept me sheltered. No one wanted to be shackled with a woman who had a miserable father. Who'd want to marry into that? Besides, if the father was a drunk, the daughter would bear drunks."

  She was so cynical, so cruel to herself.

  "You think that's what our children will be like?" I asked her. "That little girl with the blond hair--the one we made the other night?"

  Stevens shook his head and rolled his eyes.

  "No, but--"

  "You left because you thought what, that you weren't good enough for me?"

  She stood then, but had to tilt her head back to look at me. "You're too good for me."

  I laughed sardonically. "Too good for you."

  "Do you have any idea the kind of stunts he's pulled?" Stevens asked, trying for brevity.

  "I'm a murderer, Finn," she said emphatically.

  "An outlaw," I added. "When we married, you thought I was an outlaw. Yet you still wanted me."

  I shook my head. "I didn't. Not then."

  "You did ten minutes later when I took your maidenhead and made you come."

  Color came back to her cheeks with that. Good.

  "Are you going to arrest Caroline?" I asked the question of Stevens but didn't look away from Caroline.

  "If the man was as bad as you said, then good riddance. Self-defense. The police in Minneapolis said the same."

  "Why would you want me?" she asked, still unsure after all this talk.

  "Because I love you, woman!" I shouted, my voice loud now that the rain had stopped. The storm had passed, but the roaring creek wouldn't abate at least until tomorrow.

  Stevens stood. "My job is done here. I'm heading home."

  "You don't want to stay here?" I asked him.

  Shaking his head, he replied, "Not with you two. Help me with Meecham's body and I'll be out of your way." Stevens went out into the darkness.

  Good. I wanted my friend gone as much as he wanted to go home and climb back in his warm, dry bed. I needed to prove to Caroline my devotion and that she belonged with me, murderer or not. "Stay here, Caroline. We're not done."

  I turned to the door, but Stevens reappeared. "He's gone."

  A moment of panic seized my lungs. "Gone? I thought you said he was dead!" He might come after Caroline, try to hurt her again.

  "He was dead all right. The creek came up at least six more feet. Washed him away. I'll take some men and search down stream for the body after sunup."

  I turned to the window but could see nothing but pitch-blackness. "Then it's over."

  "It's over."

  CAROLINE

  I was so relieved that Meecham was well and truly dead that I slumped down onto the bed. My hands started to shake as my mind conjured up images of him atop me. I could feel his weight, so heavy that he pushed the air from my lungs. His hands, for such a big man, had been small and skittish. His voice nasally and bitter. He was everything Finn was not. Dark to light. Cruel to kind.

  "Caroline."

  I looked up at Finn's voice. It was in the lower octave I recognized as when he was angry or disappointed, but his expression did not match the tone. The door was closed again, Stevens gone. We were alone.

  "Stand so I can get you out of your wet clothes."

  I did, meekly. He quickly worked the buttons down my dress, stripped me bare.

  "You've been a bad girl."

  "I know. I murdered a man. No. I murdered two men. I will leave in the morning."

  Slowly, he pulled the belt from his pants. "Didn't you hear me say I love you?" He took a step toward me.

  "Yes," I replied softly.

  "Do you think I care that you murdered your father?"

  "Yes," I repeated. He had to. He was too good to let something so bad come between us.

  "I care that you had to resort to something like that to save yourself. It. Was. Self. Defense." The last he punctuated clearly as he grabbed my hands, slipped my wrists through the loop he'd made in his belt, pulled it tight. "I'm glad he's dead and I'm glad you did it. You took control of your life, of his actions and put him down like a rabid dog."

  "Truly?" He really didn't mind that I was so cold blooded. "Why are you tying my wrists?"

  He didn't answer my question. "Get on the bed. Hands and knees."

  When I did as he bid, he asked, "Do you plan on killing me?"

  I looked over my shoulder at him. He was stripping, dropping the sodden garments on the floor, his eyes devouring my body. I shivered at the heat I saw there. "Of course not." The idea was nonsensical. When he took hold of the tail of the belt and wrapped it around the metal wrung of the headboard, I asked, "What...what are you doing?"

  "Keeping you from leaving. Tying you to the bed is as good of a way as any until I
can get you to listen to me. Believe me."

  I tugged at the restraint, but it would not give. The fit about my wrists was snug and I could not escape.

  "Meecham touched you."

  I closed my eyes remembering the feel. "Yes."

  "Where?" Finn hadn't touched me except for wrapping my wrists.

  "My...my legs."

  "That's it?" His hands went to my calves first, slowly and gently caressing the skin.

  I nodded.

  "I'm going to erase Meecham's touch, Caroline. This place, this shack, for all it is, is special to me. To us."

  "Yes," I panted, agreeing with him. His hands had moved higher, over my knees and up and down the inside of my thighs, however he did not get near to where I wanted him to touch me most. My pussy.

  "I will be the only man you know. I'm going to fill your mind up so full of us, together, that you'll forget that bastard forever."

  He skimmed over my bottom, my hips and around my waist and over my belly.

  "Do you love me, Caro?"

  I turned my head to look at him, his hair drying now to be a burnished red in the lamplight. His green eyes flared with desire, but also with a tinge of desperation. He'd said he loved me of his own volition and without duress, and I hadn't said the words in return.

  "Yes," I murmured and watched something different, something warm and reassuring replace the wariness.

  "Then why did you leave?" he asked, his hands cupping my breasts.

  "Oh god." I closed my eyes and curled my back to fill his palms more fully. He spanked my bottom.

  "No, Caroline." He pulled his hands away. "You're not in control here. Why?"

  I sighed when he cupped me again, felt the tingle left by his palm on my ass. The skin heated. "I didn't want you to get hurt. Meecham threatened you, all because of me. He knew about the letter somehow. Maybe the man at the mercantile told him, I don't know, but he wanted to hurt you."

  "I could take him, Caroline." His voice was dark, his hands still on my breasts, just holding them like two precious objects.

  "I don't mean in a fight. Somehow, he was going to make you pay. Destroy your ranch, hurt your cattle. It was all because of me. Oh! He had two men with him tonight. Meecham brought me here but told them to continue as planned."

  Finn shrugged. "I can guess who the men are. They aren't dangerous. The might rip up a fence, but that's all. I'll deal with them tomorrow." He seemed so nonchalant about it, as if it wasn't important. Perhaps to him, it wasn't. "Now, I'll deal with you. Tell me, Caroline, you left because you worried about Meecham?" His fingers pulled on the nipple.

  "In a way. Even when you knew his anger toward you was because of me, you didn't care. You've been nothing but nice, kind, passionate and I don't deserve you. Why should a murderer get...goodness?"

  His hands fell away and I felt the bed dip as he shifted. I heard the crack on my bottom before I felt it. This single spank was so much harder than the last. It had been almost playful in comparison. Another, and another rained down.

  "You do not decide what I deserve. You do not decide what I think. All you have to decide is if you want to be with me. Not because you've been bad or good, but because of what your heart is telling you."

  He spanked me, a different spot with each swing of his palm. It was painful and I shut my eyes. The stinging grew and spread across my entire bottom. "Finn!"

  "What is your decision, Caroline?

  Spank.

  Not because I was bad or good. "I...."

  Spank.

  Only what my heart was telling me. My heart had told me all along he was for me. "I want you."

  Spank.

  "I love you," I cried out as tears slipped down my cheeks.

  "Will you leave me again?"

  Spank.

  I shook my head, my damp hair swinging. "No."

  Spank.

  "Will you keep things from me again?"

  Spank.

  "No! No, Finn. I belong to you." I lowered my shoulders to the mattress, my head on the pillow between my forearms.

  His hand stilled on my bottom, soothing the heated, searing flesh, then moved between my thighs, slipped over my slick folds. I could hear how wet I was.

  "That's right. You belong to me." Oh, it felt so good. My heart was all but bursting with joy, knowing this man wanted me, my past and all. He didn't care what I'd done. He only wanted me. Loved me. I was his.

  My skin came alive at his soft touch, but he avoided my clit and didn't dip inside to fill me, just stroked over my heated flesh, then up to my back entrance. "It's time, Caroline. It's time to make you completely mine. To take you everywhere, to brand you with my seed, finally, in every hole."

  He moved away briefly, the bed shifting as he did so, then came back with a familiar glass jar.

  "I left a jar here, untouched. You had bewitched me then so much that all I wanted was your pussy. Now, however, I am going to claim your ass."

  Dipping two fingers in, he pulled them free coated with the slick ointment. He didn't go slow, but worked the lubricant around my back entrance and then into me, dipping over and over into the jar to add more. "You stretch easily now, Caro."

  I wasn't as confident about that as he seemed to be, as I had to consciously relax into the mattress, push out against his fingers as he worked them inside. I was no longer chilled, my body on fire from his ministrations. He worked me there, sliding in and out, twisting and scissoring into me to ready me for his cock. I didn't want the sock darners he'd used at home. I didn't want his fingers any longer. I wanted his cock. I wanted him. I needed him.

  My eyes were squeezed shut as I breathed through his domination of my body, for this was surely what it was. Pure domination. I could do nothing but take what he did to me. I didn't want it any other way, for I knew he would treasure me and give me my pleasure. He might be rough, but I wanted rough. He might be gentle, but he'd know if I needed gentle. Right now, he knew I needed to be claimed, probably just as much as he wanted to dominate.

  Shifting behind me, his cock nudged at the opening of my sex and pushed in, all the while his fingers filled my ass. I hadn't expected him to fuck my pussy, but solely taking my virgin hole. I cried out in pleasure at the invasion. His hips moved, ramming his cock into me, the headboard banging against the wall.

  "Mine, Caroline. Say it."

  I exhaled with ever thrust. "I'm yours. Oh Finn. Yes. Please!"

  "Please what?" He wasn't gentle, but insistent in his movements. I could do nothing but savor the feelings he elicited from my body. If he kept at this pace, I would come quickly. As if reading my mind and wanting to taunt me, he pulled out, leaving my inner muscles clenching down on nothing. I felt empty. Bereft. All the while his fingers fucked my ass.

  "I need you."

  "As I need you," he said, sliding his fingers free. Dipping into the jar one more time, I watched as he coated his cock so it glistened in the golden light.

  Soft thunder rumbled in the distance but otherwise all was quiet, the sounds of our fucking filling the air. The scent of it was strong and heady.

  I felt the cool lubricant on the wide head of his cock as it touched my back entrance. "Breathe out, Caroline. Push back."

  He pressed forward, slowly, ever so slowly. "I'm watching you open for me. Little by little you're stretching. Oh, you're gorgeous, baby." His words had become ragged, clipped, his need overtaking him, yet he remained gentle but forceful.

  My body could hold no resistance against his needy cock, for the large head popped through the ring of muscle in one quick push and I groaned. The stretch had burned, yet now it morphed with the feeling of immense fullness. He was so much bigger than the last plug. His flesh was warm, slick, yet rigid within.

  Finn groaned too as he started to move, slowly sliding further and further into me. So tight. I love seeing you stretched open around my cock. You're taking all of me. So deep. I'm going to fuck you so hard. Strangling my cock.

  He leaned over me, his che
st hairs tickling my back, his arms rigid as he started to fuck me.

  "I'm so full," I panted. It was true. He was buried so deep, stretching me so wide I felt like he was inside of me completely, as if we were one. He truly possessed me.

  "You're so tight, Caroline, I have to come." His cock thrust deep once, twice, then Finn groaned, a deep earthly sound as I felt his cock lengthen further, then his scalding seed fill me.

  I was close, but I had not come. I was on edge, frantic in my need to find my own pleasure. My pussy felt empty since he'd pulled out of it. Now, as he slowly slid his cock from my ass, I felt completely empty. "Finn," I cried, this time in desperation.

  My world spun as I was flipped onto my back, Finn roughly parting my legs, bending my knees back. He looked at me with sharp, desire filled eyes. "I'm not done." His hands went to his belt and undid the knot, letting my hands come free. "I've only gotten started. I'm going to eat your pussy, Caroline, and you're going to come for me, then we're going to do it all again."

  He lowered his head without anymore preamble between my thighs and all but attacked my clit, my hands tangling in his red hair. "It's so hard for me. Now come."

  It only took a flick or two over the little pearl for me to scream my release, my body taut and my inner walls clenching down, squeezing and eking out every bit of pleasure. When it ebbed, Finn lifted his head. "I told you I'm not done. Again." He worked my clit again and again, until I was writhing beneath him, the pleasure almost painful.

  I fluttered my eyes open to look at him down the length of my body. His curly red hair, the dark rasp of his whiskers, his glistening lips, his green eyes that showed me everything that he was. I tangled my fingers in his hair but he grasped my wrists.

  "Oh, no, my little outlaw. There's no escaping now."

  No, there was no escaping - and that was fine with me.

  The End

  Vanessa Vale

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