Authors: Emma Wildes
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Erotica, #Western, #Historical Romance, #Red Hots!
She panted and arched, spreading her legs wider. He nuzzled her sex, teasing the satiny tissue, sucking with gentle persuasion on the swelling nub as he gauged her climb toward orgasm. Cupping her luscious bottom in his hands, he lifted her to his mouth in a fantasy come true and brought her higher, hearing with satisfaction small pants turn to feverish moans.
A scream of surprise rang through the cabin when it happened, her slender body shaking as she went over the edge. Cal felt her fingers twist in his hair and gave an inner grin of pure masculine satisfaction.
When she went limp, he rose up. His whole body was on fire, his cock rock hard and pounding with the racing rhythm of his heart. Positioning himself between her open legs, he wrapped his fingers around his rigid penis and guided the tip to her vaginal opening.
“Stay relaxed, sweetheart,” he urged as he gazed into her dazed eyes, pleased she’d been so responsive and easy to arouse. “I’ll do my best to make this a gentle ride.”
What had just happened she wasn’t sure, but it had been nothing less than…wonderful. Laurel felt stunned, bemused, shameless and enlightened. She let her eyes drift shut and concentrated on the sensation as the man above her began to penetrate her body.
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The way he touched her, the scandalous, shocking memory of his mouth between her legs, that sublime pinnacle, it all faded before the realization that with infinite care and patience, he was joining their bodies in the most intimate communion possible between a man and a woman.
Maybe she should be afraid, but she wasn’t. That first kiss beneath the stars—after he had saved her from a fate she shuddered to imagine—had told her a lot about Cal Riker the person, not the infamous outlaw. Their combustible attraction aside, he was an intriguing man, and despite the nefarious reputation he fought so hard to keep to the forefront, a sensitive one.
Cal and sensitivity were not a likely combination, she knew, but as she felt his careful easing entry, she knew it was accurate. Even with what she thought to be his enormous size stretching her wide, she experienced pleasure, not pain. The corded muscles stood out in his arms and she could tell from the tension in his powerful body he exerted extreme self-control. When a small drop of sweat ran along the clean line of his jaw, she reached up and wiped it away with a fingertip.
Through his teeth he asked, “Am I hurting you?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Would you stop if you were?” She was curious, but felt sure enough he would, whatever his answer.
“I’d certain as hell try.” His silver eyes were shielded by the thick fringe of his dark lashes. “No promises. I can’t go any further unless I break through, though I’m dying to be all the way inside you, Laurel.”
She ran her fingers down the hard planes and contours of his back, reveling in the harsh obvious need in his voice, all traces of his usual soft drawl gone. “Hmm. I want you there.”
“There’s some pain a woman’s first time, you know that, right?” Braced above her, the expression on his face was both intense and dark.
“My mother told me.”
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“I bet she wasn’t gambling on someone like me being the one.”
The bitter self-reproach was not what she wanted, not now when his hard cock rested against her maidenhead. “
I
chose you,” Laurel whispered. “Kiss me first, Cal, and then…please…”
She didn’t get to finish as his mouth lowered to take hers in a bone-melting kiss that was an expression of desire and explosive passion. As their tongues mated, so did their bodies, for he surged forward and she felt the tearing of her hymen with little more than a small gasp.
The moment of pain was negligible over the overwhelming realization drowning her senses, consuming her world. His lean hips wedged her legs even farther apart, his cock pressed against her womb, and the hardness of his muscled chest brushed her sensitized breasts. The heat from his tall body warmed and inflamed her, as did the feeling of possession with that long length fully impaling her.
Cal lifted his head, the expression on his face reflecting stark concern. “Tell me.”
Those two words said so hoarsely, made her heart flutter in her chest. Laurel knew what he was asking. She reached up and touched his face, exploring the fine-boned structure of cheek and jaw. “It isn’t bad.”
The explosive release of his breath indicated relief. “Thank God because I need to move. I’m about there already, but I’ll do my best.”
She wasn’t precisely sure what he meant but as he began a backward glide, Laurel grasped his shoulders, thinking he was leaving until he thrust forward again. The friction made that same odd excitement begin to coil in her stomach and she made an inarticulate sound of pleasure.
It felt good.
No, she decided a few moments later, better than good, her attention riveted on the miraculous fit of his sex into hers and the cadence of their moving bodies. Quickly she realized if she lifted her hips to accept his forward movements it escalated the building pleasure.
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“Just like that, sweetheart, yes…” He pushed deep, buttocks flexing as he drove into her with increasing speed.
As if she was no longer in control of her movements, her body seemed to decide exactly when to arch and fall, knowing how to take him. When he shifted his weight to one arm and reached between them, she cried out as his fingers found the miraculous spot he had tantalized before and a blissful shudder rippled through her.
It seemed to go on, the fierce grip of it taking her by surprise as her inner muscles clenched around his invasion, the pleasure so flagrant, so acute, Laurel felt as if she was swept into a turbulent current, the swirling madness punctuated by Cal’s low groan. He went rigid and stopped moving and she could feel a hot liquid rush deep inside her.
The cabin was utterly quiet except for their mutual choppy breathing, his weight braced above her just enough so she felt every inch of where their damp skin touched, every bit of his still rigid cock in her vaginal passage. His forehead rested in the spill of her hair over the blankets and his broad chest heaved.
Eventually, she summoned the strength to open her eyes. The place looked the same, with the chinked walls, the plain, simple furniture, the single window open to the warmth of the fall morning.
Her world, however, was very different.
Of the literally dozens of beaux she’d had, of the men with flowery compliments and impassioned proposals, she had somehow succumbed to this dangerous man with a shadowy past, someone she’d known only a short time if you counted the days.
He would have left her alone, but she had initiated the glorious thing that had just happened between them.
Why?
Because of the enigmatic duality of his personality? Nefarious killer versus considerate savior? After what had just happened she was sure he wasn’t both, at least not to the extent people thought.
What did
she
think, was the question. Why
this
man? It was hard to put a finger on it but she was fascinated whether she wanted it or not.
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Maybe even falling in love.
No, not with Cal Riker
,
the outlaw
.
Yes, with Cal Riker, the man.
The touch of his hand interrupted her inner musings. He stroked her shoulder, trailing his fingertips across her collarbone in a feather-like caress. With a shift of his weight he brought her with him so they lay on their sides, face-to-face, her thigh draped over his hip. He was still inside her, stretching her passage deliciously. “Tell me what you’re thinking now, Miss Daniels.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at the return of his low, soft accent. “You called me Laurel a few minutes ago.”
“Forgive me, I was making love to a beautiful woman and might have lost sight of propriety.” His blond hair was tousled, his gorgeously male body glistening with perspiration. The slight smile on his mouth would lure angels from the heavens, but his eyes, always the most expressive part of him, were watchful.
Her answer was obviously important, whether he wanted her to know it mattered or not.
Making love…
“I was thinking that I never even imagined anything like what we just did,” she whispered, not sure how he would handle it if she told him too much. He’d said flat out he was used to being alone and she didn’t want to spook him. It was possible—she sensed it—and the last thing she wanted was for him to ride away.
Gabe was probably right, she realized. Roots would make a man like him vulnerable and she didn’t need to be told Cal wasn’t interested in permanence.
The trouble was, she wanted to change his mind.
“Me either.” The admission was made in a quiet voice and his gaze was heavy, one arm holding her close.
“You? I’m sorry but it is obvious you’ve done it before.” It took a lot of effort to keep her tone even and dry.
“Sex? Hell, yes. I’m twenty-nine years old and it’s always been pretty easy to find.”
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She realized she not only didn’t like the idea of him with other women, but was acutely aware of their still intimately joined bodies and his embrace. “Then I’m surprised you’d agree with me. How is this different?”
“It is, but it doesn’t matter. I’m poison for a woman like you.” Once again it was there, that edge of bitterness and a glimmer of bleakness in his storm gray eyes.
“I have this feeling the truth is the other way around.” She said the words slowly.
“How do you figure that?”
Softly, Laurel said, “I think you are more afraid of me than I am of you.”
Dark blond brows lifted. “Is that so?”
She nodded, smoothing her hand down his back, feeling the hard honed muscles.
“Petrified, Mr. Riker.”
“Seems to me I’m twice your size.”
“So? We both know you wouldn’t hurt me and that isn’t what I’m talking about anyway. I—”
He interrupted her speech by suddenly rolling her over on her back, making her give a small cry of surprise at the abrupt movement. His mouth hovered over hers, lowered and took possession in a blatantly carnal kiss, and he gently rocked his hips.
“I’m still hard like I didn’t just come,” he whispered against her lips. “I want you again, sweetheart, feel it?”
She did. He filled her, stiff and hot.
As a distraction, it was masterfully done and she did find it impossible to pursue the conversation as he started to move again in long, measured thrusts between her open legs.
Fine, she thought, drowning in erotic sensation, if he couldn’t handle talking about his feelings yet, she could wait.
The discussion was postponed, but not over by any means.
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John Evans looked at the man sitting across from his desk and leaned back in the chair. “Not that you aren’t the answer to a prayer, but do you mind telling me where you got this information, Mr. Ranson?”
“Yep, I mind.” The older man, heavy in the shoulders and chest, with a graying beard, didn’t shift his straightforward gaze. At his feet sat what looked like a full-bred wolf, obedient but with that unmistakable wild look. “Look, Sheriff, I’m giving you the River Bend Outfit, free and clear. They’ve pulled off a lot of robberies and now added kidnapping to the list. That’s why I’m here in Tijeras. It’s up to you to get the information in the right hands or even go after them yourself. I’ve done my duty as an honest citizen.”
“You’ve done your duty again, you mean,” John said dryly. “The last time you strolled in with news like this—little over a year ago, if I remember correctly—we caught what was left of the Holbert gang. I guess I’d like to know who’s tipping you off that doesn’t want to come here himself.”
“Wonder all you want, because I ain’t sayin’.” Ranson shook his head, the dogged movement emphatic. “Let’s just say you’ve got a friend on the other side who dislikes it when sidewinders like Ferris Norton drag innocent young ladies off of trains while relieving folks of their belongings.”
John looked at the instructions on the location of the camp where Ferris Norton and his cohorts supposedly holed up between jobs. It was just like the last time, precise, detailed and written in the same neat script. “Can you blame me for wanting to know who he is?”
“We’re curious by nature as people, I suppose, so nope, I guess I can’t. That still doesn’t mean I’m gonna speak up and give you his name, so don’t wear yourself out askin’.”
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The message was clear and John gave an inner shrug, though it was true, he was curious as hell. Since he’d become sheriff of Tijeras, he’d gotten tips on a decently regular basis and he wasn’t the only law officer Gabe Ranson had gifted with such news.
Since part of the bargain was he kept it strictly to himself that someone out there was turning in criminals, he hadn’t said anything, but it was his hunch last year the apprehension of a known murderer and rapist in northern New Mexico was the direct result of exactly the same kind of exchange of information. It was hardly coincidence Ranson had visited Raton just before the arrest, in his opinion.
Whoever it was, he was grateful.
And apparently this elusive hero had saved Laurel Daniels as well.
“You say the girl is doing fine?”
“Yeah, she’ll be home soon enough. Tell her family to stop worrying.”
“Will do, though I doubt until they see her they’ll believe it. Both Matthew and Will Daniels want blood over this.”
“Well, now you know where you can spill it.” Ranson gestured at the map.
“So I do.” John sent his visitor a speculative look. “Your friend could collect a reward for this, you know.”
“He isn’t interested.”
“That so. He rich all on his own, maybe?”
Ranson chuckled. “We’re not going to do this, Sheriff. I am not going to play some game where you try to wring more about him out of me. Take the tip and run with it, that’s all we’re asking. Wipe them out, either by hanging or behind bars, and at least a few less criminals will take a free breath. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to see a friend of mine who lives about four hours’ ride from here after I cure my dry throat at the saloon. Then, I’ll be headin’ back home. Winter is coming right along. The pass can get tricky if we get snow early.”