DangerousPassion (13 page)

Derek pumped his arm, driving the single finger in and out of Sarah as he used his lips and tongue against her clitoris with skill. She had her head against the wall and was rolling it from side to side, uttering indecipherable words as wave after wave of sheer ecstasy assaulted her senses.

Derek had seen Sarah this way before, so he knew what she was like when passion overwhelmed her senses. He had known from the very beginning how she would react once his tongue began its ecstasy-inducting attack upon her clitoris and labia. He wanted her frantic with need, desperate for the release that he alone was capable of giving to her with such gut-wrenching intensity. As his arm pumped and his tongue slithered, he looked up and over at Sarah’s hand as she clutched with white-knuckled ferocity to Ellie Mae’s wrist. Sarah was holding onto her friend as though Ellie Mae alone possessed the strength of will necessary to save her soul from the fires of Hell’s own damnation.

“Oh, god! Oh, god!” Sarah chanted, her eyes opening wider, the emerald green depths shimmering like priceless wet jewels as lust gripped her soul.

Derek could tell that Sarah was just a few seconds away from her orgasm. Now he had her right where he wanted her, at a place where she was most vulnerable and least capable of resisting his wickedest desires.

He rose to his feet, and when he did, Sarah blinked her eyes several times, shocked that the mind-boggling pleasure had suddenly ended when she was so very near to tumbling into the chasm of pure ecstasy.

“Wait,” Sarah said. It was easier to think now that Derek’s tongue wasn’t driving her mad with want.

Derek didn’t wait. Not even for a second. He freed Ellie Mae’s wrist from Sarah’s clutching hand. Then, grabbing Sarah by the shoulder, he spun her halfway around quickly, forcing her to bend over a packing crate made of coarsely sawn pine.

“Wait! We can’t! Not here! We’ll get caught!”

She tried to defend herself, but it was a weak and futile effort. It took only seconds for Derek to have Sarah’s arms wrenched behind her back, one wrist over the other so that he could hold them both with just a single powerful hand. With his free hand he pulled Sarah’s dress up, bunching the soft wool beneath her hands, exposing the pale bottom that so enticed him.

Ellie Mae, standing less than two feet away, asked in a soft voice, “Sarah, what do you want me to do?”

Derek was in charge of the moment, so it was he who answered. “As long as you’ve seen this much already, be my lookout. I’d rather not have any surprise visitors right now.”

“But Derek—“ Sarah began.

With his free right hand, Derek silenced Sarah’s protest by bringing his palm down hard on her bottom, his palm smacking loudly against her tender skin. Sarah squealed in pain and tried to free her wrists from Derek’s steelish grip, but she was not nearly powerful enough to effectively combat his much greater strength.

With his free hand Derek unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. A moment later his cock sprang out, long and already fully erect, the skin stretched so tautly over the crown it appeared ready to split. When Ellie Mae first saw Derek’s erection, she put a hand to her mouth, her eyes opening wide with either fear or surprise. It was obvious that she had never seen an erection so large. Her body trembled from head to foot.

For only a moment, Derek paused to look at Sarah, his dark gaze flinty hard. He saw the lushly rounded buns and naked, tapering thighs. He saw the utilitarian side-button boots with the white cotton ankle-socks. And he saw the pink lips of her pussy, slick and wet—ready for him.

“Damn you,” Derek hissed.

His teeth clenched, the raw lust that burned through his veins propelling him relentlessly onward. Derek brought the crown of his cock to Sarah’s pink lips, waited for only a moment to be absolutely certain he was positioned properly, then thrust. Hard!

* * * *

Sarah’s cheek was against the rough wooden surface of the crate, her arms held behind her back, when Derek’s throbbing cock separated her labia, driving deep into her tender body. Even before he had fully buried his arousal within Sarah’s body, she began to come.

“God!” she gasped as her body began its climactic spasms.

The convulsions were powerful, wrenching, so intense they were nearly painful. A thousand different emotions went through Sarah in a heartbeat. She was aware, of course, of the enormity of Derek’s cock, and how it brought something more than just a hint of pain with all the pleasure when it filled her. She was distinctly aware of the solid shaft, thick and round as it forced her tender tissue to stretch to accommodate its girth, rubbing against her detonating clitoris as he pumped into her again and again.

She was intensely aware of the solidity of the wooden crate beneath her, its surface harsh against her lust-distended nipples despite the barriers of her chemise and blouse. She was aware of how her right knee was hitting against a sharp object on the crate—she wasn’t certain what the sharp object was, only that it was causing her pain—which she bumped against each time Derek’s pelvis collided with her bottom and his cock speared into her. She was especially aware of the edge of the crate, where it dug into the flesh of her lower abdomen as she rocked back and forth, her voluptuous body buffeted by the madman/lover who could talk her into doing anything.

And she was aware of Ellie Mae’s presence, so nearby, watching everything. Who would Ellie Mae tell? What would she tell? Ellie Mae had always been a notorious busybody and gossip. This bit of scandalous news would simply be much too lurid for Ellie Mae to keep it to herself. Would anyone in town believe her if she did talk?

These were tantalizing and frightening questions for Sarah as she drifted down from the heights of her orgasmic frenzy sufficiently to have at least a modicum of emotional coherence.

As though listening to someone else, Sarah could hear her own gasping cries of pleasure that punctuated each of Derek’s thrusts. She could hear Derek’s huffing gasps as he worked furiously behind her, pounding her against the harsh wooden crate, seemingly trying to drive his cock not simply hilt-deep into her, but right through her.

My nipples and pussy will be sore for a week!
Sarah thought, the idea not without its pleasurable aspects.

At that moment, Derek brought his palm furiously down on her bare bottom again, his hand striking with such force that a clear imprint of his hand remained afterward. The stinging spank caused Sarah to simultaneously cry out in pain
¾
and begin yet another orgasm! The contractions weren’t quite as powerful as the earlier ones, by they were jolting just the same.

At somewhere between the third and fourth contraction, Derek released the hold he had on her wrists. Sarah kept her hands behind her back despite being freed, a small corner of her psyche aroused by the concept of being submissive to his ultra-masculine dominance. With her wrists still crossed one over the other, Sarah’s hands opened, palms upward, fingers splaying out in unconscious anticipation.

An instant later Derek’s hands were on her naked hips, holding her tightly as he withdrew the powerful shaft completely from Sarah’s silken embrace. He did not retreat long. Holding Sarah’s hips firmly, Derek leaned into her, his slick shaft pointing upward, trapped between his own abdomen and in the tight valley of her trembling buns.

An animalistic sound of fury, like a cross between a growl of rage and a roar of triumph, was choked out of Derek’s throat, passing through his clenched teeth as he thrust forward and upward, the underside of his shaft, made slippery by Sarah’s own excitement, rubbing intimately against her tingling greek entrance as the first the first jet of semen exploded from his over-stimulated testicles.

Though Sarah had been with Derek before in a situation not terribly different from the one she was in now, and she knew what it was like to feel his climactic eruption rain down upon her back (he being gentlemanly enough to employ
coitus interruptus
where so many other so-called gentleman did not), it seemed much different this time, rather particularly lewd inasmuch as she was out in the open with Derek where public discovery was an every-second possibility. And there was the additional lewdness of feeling Derek’s hot sperm landing upon her while Ellie Mae stood just a few feet away, watching every eruption. She felt the first explosion of semen hit her in the hair at the nape of her neck, and leave a line down her back. Derek’s cum, warm and thick and slippery, left lines from her shoulders down to her hips. Sarah felt it, gooey and heated, hitting her upturned palms. And then, when the deluge had nearly come to an end, Sarah felt the final spurts of his climax being deposited on her buns, hot and slick and quickly cooling as it dribbled down the inside her thighs.

“Oh…Derek, how could you?” Sarah asked, though she knew that the answer was self-evident. Derek did because Derek could. What other people felt or thought was seldom of much concern to the man in black with lightning reflexes. The answer was quite simple.

She rose slowly to a standing position, smoothing her skirt over her buns and down her legs, trying to ignore the unpleasant sensation of wool clinging wetly to semen-splattered thighs and buttocks.

Ellie Mae was ashen-faced, emotionally shaken by what she had witnessed and clearly uncertain of what the proper opinion should be.

“I want you to go to your home,” Derek said to Sarah as he tucked himself back into his trousers and began buttoning the fly. “I’ll meet you there later on. I’ll find out whatever makes it necessary for you to get engaged to an ass like Edgar Patterson, and then I’ll take care of that problem.”

Sarah leaned back against the wooden crate. Her legs were weak. The climaxes had drained her of most of her energy.

“You can’t do that,” she said.

“The hell I can’t.”

“I promised Edgar that I’d let him come to my house tonight.” She looked away, unable to look into Derek’s eyes when she spoke of her fiancé. “If you come, he’ll see you. There’ll be a fight. I know there will…and I can’t let that happen.”

In a quiet, uncertain voice, Ellie Mae said, “Sarah, you can come to my house. My brother went to the
St. Paul
stockyards and he won’t be back for most of a week, at least.”

Derek smiled. “Thanks. I owe you a favor, Ellie Mae.”

Sarah was shaking her head. “No, this is not going to happen.”

“I’ve got to change hotel rooms,” Derek continued, refusing to even consider Sarah’s attempts to deny him. “Edgar strikes me as a vindictive man, and after I’ve turned him down, he might take it in his head to come after me. So there are some things I’ve got to do now, but I’ll see you later on tonight.”

“Derek, you just don’t understand.”

“Fine. Tonight you can tell me all about it, and then I’ll understand.” He turned to Ellie Mae. “Do you live far from here?”

Ellie Mae’s face was still pale, but she smiled anyway and said, “Not far from here at all. Do you know where Bartleson’s Dry Goods store is? My brother and I have a house right behind it. It’s a nice white house with yellow shutters on the windows.”

“Thanks.” He turned to Sarah, sliding his right hand around her neck. “I’ll see you as soon as I get things settled.”

“But—“

Derek slanted his mouth down over Sarah’s, kissing her lightly, his lips brushing from side to side over hers briefly before sealing over them. Sarah tried to protest, but when her hands came up to push Derek away, her fingers instead caressed the solid muscles of his chest through his black cotton shirt.

Chapter Nine

When Derek got back to his hotel, there was a note waiting for him at the reception desk from Jerome Patterson. It read: “Derek, don’t make a final decision on employment hastily. Let’s talk tomorrow. I’m sure an agreement can be reached that will be beneficial to all our interests. Sincerely, Jerome Patterson, President of the First Bank and Trust.”

Derek always traveled light, so he was able to pack his belongs in only a few minutes. At the reception desk, he paid for an extra two nights, then carried his belongings out the back door of the hotel. If the Pattersons made a cursory investigation, it would appear that Derek was still at the hotel, and intended to be there for another couple nights.

He went to the livery and got his horse, saddling up and mentioning to the livery owner that he was headed out of Deadwood. Instead, Derek rode south and then circled around and headed north. He found a livery to his liking, paid for three nights to care for his horse and store his saddle,
Winchester
rifle, and other belongs, and then found a hotel that was far beneath his standards but was anonymous enough to meet his needs.

If the Pattersons went looking for him, Deadwood would be too small for Derek to remain anonymous. But to be found now in such a low-life hotel would require a concerted effort, and Derek doubted the Pattersons were up for that.

As the sun began setting, Derek had a smile on his lips as he went in search of a small white house with yellows shutters behind a place called Bartleson’s Dry Goods store.

* * * *

“Would you mind heating some water? I need to clean up,” Sarah asked as she sat in one of Ellie Mae’s kitchen chairs, unbuttoning her right boot.

“Of course.” Ellie Mae began building a fire in the stove, putting in last week’s newspaper and some dried kindling. As she performed these mundane chores, there was a hint of a smile which occasionally pulled at her lips, and a faint blush of embarrassment in her cheeks. “Sarah, do you mind if I ask you a question?”

Sarah took the time to remove both boots and socks before answering. “I pretty much figured that you’d have some questions.” She put her face in her hands and rested her elbows on the kitchen table. “I don’t suppose you would be really kind and just pretend that nothing happened?”

Once the fire was lit, Ellie Mae went to the kitchen table and sat down facing her. Excitement literally glowed in Ellie Mae’s eyes. “Who is he? My god, how long has this been going on, Sarah? You’ve got to tell me everything!” She took Sarah by the wrists and pulled her hands away from her face. “I promise, I’ll never tell a soul a single word of what happened, but you’ve got to let me know what you’ve been doing.” She sighed theatrically. “My life is such a bore! Now I know why you aren’t in any hurry to get married to Edgar Patterson! You’ve got someone much better in the shadows!”

“Can we not talk about it?”

Always practical regarding matrimonial matters, Ellie Mae frowned for a moment and said, “Of course, I don’t know what his finances are like. The man’s devilishly handsome, and lord knows he’s”—she blushed crimson at the lurid thought and evocative memories still fresh in her mind—“a man of truly heroic dimensions…but money is something that only a foolish woman doesn’t take into consideration when thinking about men.”

“Can we please not talk about it?”

Ellie Mae shook her head and the pixie curls danced at her cheeks. “Sorry. I just witnessed something I never in a hundred million years ever dreamed I’d see. When it was happening, I was asking myself whether it was a dream and if I was just imagining it all. Nope. Not a dream. There you were with a wickedly handsome man, bent over packing crate, making love like there was no tomorrow.” Ellie Mae leaned closer and asked in a whisper, “Does he always hold your arms behind your back like that? It seemed so…aggressive.” She spoke the word ‘aggressive’ in a tone that implied she wouldn’t mind experiencing such ‘aggressive’ behavior personally…and soon.

Sarah put her face in her hands again and muttered miserably, “I’m to blame for all this. I know it’s all my fault.” She raised her head, looked her best friend straight in the eyes, and said with more sincerity than she’d ever used before, “Will you please just drop it?”

“No.” Ellie Mae got up to inspect the fire beneath the boiler. “I’m sorry, but my eyes work perfectly well, and I can’t just pretend that nothing happened.” She returned to her chair. “Better take that dress off so that we can clean it.” A blush colored her cheeks. “You’ve got”—the next word stymied her efforts at appearing calm—“stains…on your dress. All the way up to the collar.” She blushed crimson. “You’ve even got some of it…in your hair.” Her eyes widened with almost adolescent adoration despite her embarrassment. “I didn’t know that a man could make it go so far.”

Sarah tilted her head back on her shoulders to stare at the ceiling, and mumbled, “This is all my fault. I can’t believe I’m even talking about this.”

Ellie Mae poured steaming hot water into a wash basin, then placed the basin on the homemade kitchen table. From a cupboard she extracted two wash clothes and tossed them onto the table in front of Sarah and said, “Let’s get that dress cleaned.”

The enthusiasm that Ellie Mae was showing disappointed Sarah, but she knew that the woman she was really disappointed with was herself. She had succumbed to Derek’s erotic magnetism once again, unable to resist his ostentatious virility, his dangerous way of making her simultaneously feel vulnerable and protected, helpless against his lust and yet in control of all that was being done to her—and doing it in a way that she could touch but couldn’t grasp, could tacitly sense but could not physically see.

Sarah unbuttoned her dress and shimmied it over her shoulders and then past the sweeping curve of her hips. She hadn’t seen all that Derek had done to it before, so when she put the dress face-down on the table and saw the four long lines of dried semen stains that ran from the waistline to the shoulders, she closed her eyes for a moment and shivered. The white, flaky lines were stark evidence of her own intemperate behavior, evidence of libidinous guilt that she had to own up to.

Across the surface of her mind she thought about the thin trickle of sperm that Edgar released when she masturbated him to satiation, and thinking of it now almost made her laugh. In comparison to Derek, Edgar was a pathetic joke. He was, perhaps, a man by name and reputation…but a boy when defined by and compared to the tall, black-clad gunfighter that had taken control of Sarah’s desires and held them in his hand like a conjurer.

Sarah’s underpants had been left behind the bank. Derek had now, on two separate occasions separated only by a few days, ripped off her drawers twice in his sexual haste.

That man can be such a barbarian. I should have said something to stop him. It wasn’t right that he did that to me, especially not with Ellie Mae standing right there watching him.

Dressed now in only a thin cotton camisole that came down just to the tops of her thighs, Sarah put a wash cloth into the bowl of warm water, and then began rubbing the cloth against the stains on her dress.

“I’ll do that,” Ellie Mae said. “You just wash yourself.”

Another flush went through Sarah. She touched her bottom and the inside of her left thigh with exploratory fingers and found more dried and flaky evidence of intemperance. As she began washing herself with a wet cloth, she felt Ellie Mae’s eyes on her.

“How long has this been going on?” Ellie Mae asked in a voice not much louder than a whisper even though she was in her own home and alone with Sarah.

“I didn’t plan for it to happen,” Sarah said, and then began her explanation of how on the night that Edgar had forced her to work late at the bank she had been accosted by a gang of hooligans, and how Derek had come to her rescue.

“I had heard that some men were shot and killed that night, but that happens so often in Deadwood these days that I didn’t really pay it no never-mind.” She inspected the cleaning work she had done on Sarah’s dress, apparently decided it was unsatisfactory, and then dampened her wash cloth and resumed rubbing the stains. In a manner that suggested she was desperately curious despite the casualness of her tone, she asked, “Did he kiss you…you know, down there…that first time you were with him? The same way he did to you behind the bank?”

“Ellie Mae, do we have to get into specifics?”

“Please, I need to know.”

“Yes, he did.”

“How does it feel?”

“Ellie Mae!”

The girl turned doe-like eyes toward Sarah. “I’ve got to know. I’m not some innocent virgin, you know. I’ve done it with two different men.”

Sarah’s brow furrowed. The information surprised her. “Really? With who?”

“Once with Billy Bartlett and a couple times with Walter Nurley.”

“You did it with Billy Bartlett? I thought you hated him.”

Ellie Mae shrugged her slender shoulders, paying considerably more attention to the dress that she was cleaning now that she was the topic of discussion. “At the time, I thought I loved him. I didn’t learn to hate him until afterward.”

Sarah nodded her sympathy. She had heard that story, in one variation or another, many times before and from many different women.

“Okay, now I’ve given you my secret, you’ve got to share one with me,” Ellie May said. “What’s it feel like when he does that? Have you ever let Edgar kiss you like that?”

“Edgar’s never asked to. But to answer your question, it feels…” She closed her eyes for a moment as luscious memories, evocative and sensual, slithered across the surface of her consciousness. Derek was wickedly skilled with his tongue.

Breathless, Ellie Mae prodded, “Well?”

“It felt funny at first, and not really pleasant. But I think maybe that’s because no man had ever kissed me that way before and I didn’t really know what Derek was doing, so I didn’t know how to react. Then, after maybe ten or fifteen seconds, it felt…” she searched for a suitable word for the sensations that Derek had caused, and finally settled with, “divine.”

“Divine?” Ellie Mae’s eyes were round. “Oh, dear…divine, you say.” She scrubbed Sarah’s dress vigorously, needing to divert her attention. After a rather lengthy silence, Ellie Mae whispered, “I’ve never experienced divine. I’ve wanted to, but I haven’t. When I gave my virginity to Billy Bartlett, it didn’t even hurt. You know how we’re always hearing stories about how it will hurt the first time? Well, it didn’t. It felt good, but that’s it. Not great and certainly not divine. And when I did it with Walter, it felt kind of okay, I suppose. But those men have nothing compared to your man. I mean, you know…” The conversation was getting into incredibly intimate territory, even for Ellie Mae, who previously had never considered any subject unworthy of gossip. “In terms of the size of their thing.”

Sarah had finished cleaning herself. It seemed incredibly odd to her that between her and Ellie Mae, it was she who was the sexually experienced one, the one who knew more about the mysteries of lovemaking. Until this very minute, Sarah had always looked to Ellie Mae for advice on men; now that Derek was in her life, it was Sarah who had taken the lead.

“Your man’s thing is so very big,” Ellie Mae continued, unwilling to make eye contact with Sarah. “Does it hurt when he has it in you? He’s so big, so big and powerful…”

A shudder went through Ellie Mae as her words drifted away. It was quite clear to Sarah that Ellie Mae was envious of her relationship with Derek (whatever that relationship was), and possibly even jealous.

“It doesn’t hurt. In fact, it feels wonderful. Derek can be something of a madman,” Sarah explained, “but as far as madmen go, he’s the greatest of them all.”