Bella's Touch

by Ferrell, Suzanne

  She lasted longer than he thought.

  “Michael?” she whispered, a slight panic in her voice.

  “I’m here, love.” He wanted her senses heightened just like his had been, but didn’t want her frightened. Another minute passed, then he stepped up behind her once more. Close enough for her to sense his presence. “What do you feel?”

  “The rough bark of the tree. The cold air blowing through the trees.”

  “Concentrate. What else?”

  “You. The heat from your body next to mine.”

  “Now, what do you hear?”

  “The rustle of the leaves still on the trees. The whistle of the wind. Chance nibbling on something…dry grass?”

  “Yes, he pawed some up with his hoof. Listen closer. Do you hear anything else?”

  Silence spread between them for a moment.

  “Snow melting off the trees, plopping on the ground below.”

  “Listen closer.”

  Silence again.

  “My heart beating in my ears. My body inhaling and exhaling.”

  “Very good. Now no more talking. I just want you to concentrate on hearing and feeling. You’re safe. Trust me.”

  “I do,” she said without hesitation, which warmed the center of his chest.

  Laying one hand on her back to steady them both, he slid the other down over her spine to the luscious curves of her hips.

  When his hand slid over her thighs he settled it at the juncture and grasped the material of her wool skirt and underskirts. Bunching them in his hand, he slowly pulled up to expose her stocking-clad legs and thighs to the cold winter air.

  She sucked in air and he felt a shiver run through her body beneath his hand. Taking no mercy on her, he continued pulling the heavy skirt and petticoats up over her hips. He shifted his feet until he stood directly behind her.

  Using both hands he grasped her hips, letting his fingers enjoy the warm silk of her drawers as he firmly kneaded her ass cheeks.

  A soft moan escaped her.

  “Do you like this, Bella? Being tied up, exposed where anyone can see you?” he asked as he worked one hand down between her thighs. Not surprised to find her drawers damp there.

  Pausing, he concentrated all his senses on their surroundings. He neither sensed, heard, nor smelled the presence of any other humans or predators in the vicinity. For once, not having his sight benefited him. With confidence he knew they were safe to play, but Bella didn’t.

  Slowly he smiled.

  *****

  Bella sucked in air as Michael pulled her skirts up to her hips. Dear God! What if someone came tramping through the area? To see her tied to the tree, blindfolded, exposed? And why did that idea send more heat skittering through her?

  Then Michael was asking her the same thing as his hand slid between her thighs. He didn’t wait for her answer. He didn’t need to—her damp drawers told him how excited it made her. Then his fingers spread the slit in her drawers. Cool air rushed in to caress her sex like the breath of a lover, her muscles clenching in delicious response.

  “Easy, love. It’s not time yet. Breathe for me, Bella.”

  Instinctively, she inhaled the cool air, letting it calm her excited nerves. Listening to her own heart beat in her ears, she willed it to slow. It worked.

  “Very good, love,” Michael crooned and she relaxed even more, almost sagging against the tree, but then he parted the folds of her sex and slid two fingers deep inside.

  The sudden invasion tore a moan from her. Bella clenched down tight on his fingers.

  “Easy, love. Relax.”

  His voice crooned from just behind her hips. He’d moved again. She followed his instruction and relaxed her hold on him.

  “Good girl, Bella. Just feel all the sensations. The heat coming from your core where part of me is buried. All the cool air licking your skin. Your heart beating. Can you feel all that?”

  She started to nod then remembered he couldn’t see such a simple form of communication. She was forced to admit out loud how she felt, for both their ears. “Yes, Michael.”

  “Tell me.” He worked his fingers out of her channel to just the entrance then thrust them in deep again.

  She groaned. “I feel you…thrusting…into my heat. The frigid air making my skin sensitive to every touch and whisper of wind across it.”

  Suddenly, his calloused hand slammed down over her exposed ass cheeks, tearing a cry from her.

  “What else do you feel?”

  “Helpless. Unable to stop it.”

  “Just like…” he prompted.

  She let her head hang down between her arms. “Just like you were when I had you tied to the bed.”

  He pulled his fingers from inside her and she felt bereft—lost without the connection to him. Then both hands caressed her smarting flesh where he’d smacked her, gliding over the tender skin, kneading both globes of flesh. He shifted her, pushing one foot to the side, opening her thighs, giving him access and she felt the hot length of his erection pressing against her moist sex.

  “Just like when you mounted me that night, I’m going to mount you here, out in the open and you’ll be unable to stop me.” He stroked between her legs, letting her juices coat him, then he pushed the head into her opening and held himself right there. “But I don’t think you want me to stop, do you, love?”

  “No…please,” she whimpered, loving the stretching of his cock head in her opening.

  “Please what, love? Please stop?”

  “No. More. Please.”

  “That doesn’t clarify the situation.” A deep rumble of a laugh came from him and if she wasn’t so in need the sound of his pleasure would thrill her heart. As it was, it only increased her want for more of him inside her.

  “You. I want more of you,” she nearly growled at him.

  “Your wish is my command.”

  With one long push he filled her completely, stretching her almost to the point of pain. He gripped her hips, steadying them both. The throbbing from inside her wasn’t just her own desire. She felt his, too.

  “I dreamt of this once. Taking you out in the open,” he said, sliding his hips back, then thrusting forward again.

  “You did? When?”

  “Before the war. I wanted the whole academic world to know you belonged to me.” He continued to glide in and out in a slow, mind-numbing rhythm as he talked.

  “My father…would’ve…killed you,” she answered between his maddeningly slow thrusts.

  “I know he would have killed me and disowned you. Why do you think I never tried to talk you into it?”

  “That’s…the only…reason?” she asked, this time wiggling her hips to try to get him to move faster.

  “Hold still,” he said with a slap to her ass. “I want to enjoy this. No, you’re right, your father’s wrath wasn’t the only reason I didn’t try taking you out on the common for the world to see.”

  “What…else?”

  “You never would’ve forgiven me. Exposing you to gossip, ridicule among your father’s associates. I respect you too much.” Slowly he began to increase his pace.

  “Ahh…and now?” It was becoming harder to concentrate on his words.

  “The war taught me a few things.” He pulled back and held himself at her entrance again.

  “It taught me life is fleeting.” He thrust in and pulled out. “That I’m less civilized than I thought.” He repeated the action, going deeper. “That I want you any way and every way I can get you.”

  Quickly, he changed his pattern, gliding in and out faster, creating a sweet sensation of pleasure and friction. No longer capable of speech, Bella thrust back at him, clenching him with each of his thrusts, binding them tighter.

  “Yes, love, that’s it…give it to me,” he groaned, working harder and deeper into her, his body pounding into hers.

  “Michael,” she moaned as she spun over the crest, her body shuddering around his, her legs shaking with the effort.

 
Gripping her hips he ground against her, growling out his own release. Finally, he relaxed over her, pressing his lips to the back of her neck. “My Bella,” he whispered on a ragged breath.

  The sting of being taken outdoors in such a fashion disappeared on that quiet oath.

  *****

  “You sure the bastard’s still at his cabin, Caleb?” Enos Trout asked his brother as they plodded through the knee-high snow drifts, leading their horses through the dense forest.

  “Saloon girl said Barclay came through town ‘bout a year ago and went straight to his pa’s old homestead. Ain’t been seen since.” Caleb accented his words with a stream of brown tobacco spittle off into a pile of white snow.

  “He coulda’ gone on west.”

  “Saloon owner said the store keep delivers a case of whiskey out here every month. Seems to me that Barclay’s keeping put. Don’t you think?”

  “I hope so. I want to slice the bastard up for what he done to Silas.”

  “Yep, Silas mighta been a sonofabitch, but he was our brother. No one kills one of us without payin’ for it.”

  “You remember what Pa used to say?” Enos asked.

  “Yep. Blood is thicker than water. You mess with one Trout, you mess with all of us.”

  Nodding, Enos pulled out his six-shooter and checked the chambers as he trudged along behind his older brother. He was ready and he hoped Barclay put up a fight. Nothing like slowly killing someone to get his blood running.

  Thanks to a few fellas from back in Massachusetts, they’d gotten word of Silas’ killin’ right before the siege of Petersburg, but hadn’t been able to track down Barclay for a while after the war. Too many wounded men wandering through the big cities. Caleb wasn’t known as Bloodhound in their hometown for nothing. He could scent out his prey and stuck to the track with dogged determination. Once he’d caught Barclay’s trail, they’d followed it all the way to his hometown. The early winter blizzard had only delayed the inevitable. They were going to kill Silas’ killer.

  Caleb pulled on his horse’s reins and pointed to the path leading away from the main wagon road. “We’ll tie the horses a ways back from the cabin, then we’ll take what we can after we get payback for Silas and head back east.”

  “You think he’s got any gold in the cabin?”

  “Don’t matter none. This is about blood for blood.” Caleb spit again, wiping his beard with his coat sleeve.

  Enos spit, too. “Fer Silas.”

  *** *

  “I can’t believe you came prepared.”

  Bella sat on a boulder bathed in the limited sunlight streaming through the gray sky above and watched Michael shimmy out of his wet dungarees. He didn’t have any long johns beneath, so she enjoyed the sight of his naked ass cheeks and long muscular thighs. She itched to squeeze both white firm globes and run her hands down his legs.

  “Knew th-the water would be fr-fr-eezing,” Michael said through chattering teeth as he took a spare blanket and rubbed down his lower half. Then he reached for the dry red wool underwear he’d laid it on the rock beside his heavy wool coat. “W-wanted to g-get the stone for carv-ving, not die of the lung a-ague.”

  Bella looked at the boulder they’d worked as a team to haul out of the river. When they’d arrived, Michael seemed to know instinctively which rock he’d wanted, walking almost straight to it. He’d tied rope to Chance’s saddle horn and then made his way out in the water to loop the other end around the rock. Once it was secure, he’d gotten behind the boulder to push as she led Chance away from the riverbank. It took several minutes, but suddenly the boulder gave way and crashed into the water. Michael managed not to get taken down by the effort and pushed through the water until Chance had hauled the rock onto the sandy bank.

  Michael had insisted she keep Chance moving until the boulder was nestled on the ice and snowy ground a good deal away from the water.

  “You could’ve let me help more.”

  “What, so we could b-both b-be wet and fr-freezing?”

  He grinned in her direction as he pulled on dry dungarees and her heart lurched to see such mischievousness on his face once more. This was more the man she’d fallen in love with than the sullen one she’d found in the cabin over a week ago.

  “What about your boots?” she asked as she took his wet pants and squeezed the water from them.

  “Wore Pa’s old ones into the river. Didn’t figure he’d mind much now.” He pointed to the saddle bag on Chance’s back. “Can you hand me down mine?”

  She went to the horse and steadied herself as she pulled out his boots. Inside each was a wool sock. He really had come prepared. Living in the city, she’d never given thought to bringing extra clothes for a days’ excursion. If she got caught in a heavy rain or snowstorm, she could take shelter almost anywhere until the time to travel back home where clean, dry clothes always waited.

  As she handed Michael his boots and waited for him to finish dressing, she studied the wilderness around them. Although Ohio had been a state for several decades, parts of it were still wild and unsettled. She’d passed several logging camps on the train ride through the Appalachians. The area was being systematically cleared of timber, though they hadn’t gotten this far south or east. Somehow this environment suited Michael—a little wild, yet on the edge of civilized.

  She shifted her attention back to the boulder. “Which side do you plan to carve?”

  “Just a moment and I’ll show you.” He finished dressing and gathered his wet clothing.

  “Let me take that,” she said, reaching for the wet mass, only to have him hold it out of her reach.

  “I can manage it myself, Bella.”

  His jaw and mouth had taken on a stubborn look beneath the stylish goatee he’d allowed her to shave his beard down to a few days earlier.

  “Yes, you can, but I can’t check the ropes to be sure the boulder is sufficiently secured for the trip back home. Let me stow the wet clothes while you do that.”

  The stubborn set of his jaw was quickly replaced by a more sheepish look. As if he’d considered her words and agreed with her logic a moment later he held the clothes in her direction.

  Men!

  She snatched the wet mass from him. Knowing he couldn’t see her, she openly shook her head in exasperation as she stomped around him, the boulder and the back end of the horse. Once his wet clothes were all stowed, she surreptitiously watched him feel and test all the ropes binding the huge rock. Using his hands and arm strength he assessed everything the way an average man would use his eyes. Even blind he exuded such confidence.

  “Come here,” he said, holding a hand out in her direction.

  Gathering her skirts in one hand, she slipped the other in his, carefully walking close to where he stood next to the boulder.

  “Feel this side,” he said as he laid her hand against the smooth surface. “This is the side that calls to me. This is where I’ll carve the passion we shared the other night.”

  For months before the war he’d painted her image in erotic fashion on canvas, but knowing he planned to carve her likeness in stone sent a special thrill through her. She caressed the stone beneath her hand, almost feeling what he planned to do as if the image lived just inside the stone.

  “It will be wonderful.”

  “If I don’t chisel it to pieces.” He laughed harshly and tugged her to him. His lips claimed hers, hard and demanding, his goatee caressing her face and chin. When she leaned into his solid strength, he eased his tasting of her mouth, letting it mold into something more soul searching and tender. Finally, he released her mouth. “Have I told you thank you?”

  “For what?” She reached up to stroke his smooth cheek.

  “For shocking me out of the mire I’d sunken into and forcing me to realize I still had something to contribute to the world.”

  “So I’m forgiven for invading your home and tying you up?”

  A smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “Yes. You’re forgiven.”

>   “And you’ll let me stay?”

  The half-smile disappeared, replaced by the hard set of his mouth once more. “Sweetheart, as much as I want you here with me, this isn’t safe for you. I can’t protect you from danger.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I won’t see it coming.”

  “But you’ll hear it.”

  “You can’t stay, Bella. I’d die if anything happened to you.”

  Before she could argue further, he stepped away and up to Chance’s side, taking the reins in his hand. “The sun’s starting to set. We need to head back to the cabin. We’ll talk about it more there.”

  Arrabella knew that meant he wouldn’t change his mind, at least not until something happened to prove he was capable of protecting her. She swallowed her anger at his stubbornness. Couldn’t he see that together they could do anything? Protect each other?

  As they trudged through the snow the sun slipped below the tree tops and Bella had trouble seeing the path in front of them. Walking on the opposite side of the horse, she clung to Chance’s leather neck strap as the stallion slowly pulled the boulder over the ice and snow. Even though Michael couldn’t see it she still hid her smile.

  Without realizing it, Michael was using his senses to direct them on the path home—no hesitation or doubt in his movements. The darker it got, the more sure he seemed of his steps. A few more yards and the silhouette of the barn loomed ahead of them to the left. Without a false step he’d navigated them safely home.

  Suddenly Michael reached up to cover Chance’s muzzle at the same time he pulled on the reins, bringing the horse to a quiet stop. Sensing he’d heard something in the trail ahead, Arrabella leaned closer to the horse.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  “Horses. Two of them. Near the cabin.”

  “Maybe it’s a visitor from town?” she asked, even though no one had bothered to stop by and check on them the entire week they’d been snowed in.

  “A friendly visitor would’ve lit a lamp or started the fire while they waited. Especially once it got dark.” He sniffed the air. “No smoke. Do you see a light?”

  She squinted through the trees beyond the barn. “Nothing, but the barn might be blocking it.”