Rocky Mountain Rogue (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 5) (26 page)

BOOK: Rocky Mountain Rogue (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 5)
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"Yes, sir." It was easier to say the second time. Pain and pleasure melded together in her head, turning her core molten.

His hand returned to playing between her legs. "You gonna ask for your punishment?"

She whimpered, not realizing her discipline hadn't begun.

"Or do you want me to stop?" His hand retreated, and she reached back and grabbed for it.

"No. Jesse, please don't stop."

"Is that how you address me?"

"No, sir. Forgive me." She widened her legs, tilting her bottom to offer herself more fully to him. He would be able to see everything in this position, even her damp pussy. Especially her damp pussy. "Please, sir, punish me. Whatever you want, I'm yours."

A pause. "As you wish." She could tell by the rasp in his voice that he was aroused. Despite herself, she smiled against the bed, knowing the power she had over him.

Then her spanking began in earnest, and her fists gripped the blanket. His hand fell over and over, a hard, stinging palm, the smacks echoing around the room. After a while, a warmth spread through her, starting at her poor, heated cheeks and rushing upwards, settling in her cunny like a hand pressing out. Jesse didn't stop even as her bottom shifted to avoid his hand. He seemed to know how she was going to move, and punished her with harder strikes to her bottom's tender underside. She really would feel it when riding a horse, she thought desperately. Closing her eyes, she tried to relax and accept the pain. Little cries escaped her, but she didn't beg him to stop. The rhythm of his relentless strikes told her there would be time enough for pleading later.

As the spanking continued, tears filled her eyes. She wasn't sad, though. Jesse's hand, his body close to hers, even his determined breathing all blended to tell her how intent he was on delivering this punishment to her, how he wasn't leaving her, how he would be with her, not just in the moment, but days and days beyond when she felt the ache in her backside and remembered how he bent her over the bed. Her body fell away as the pain lifted her upwards, bearing her towards the sky and forgiveness.

He stopped, and she spiraled back into herself, the sting slamming back into her mind. She gasped, and kicked her legs a little, writhing with the pain. Her face was wet. His hand was working over her flesh again, rubbing away some of the sting.

Then he sat on the bed. "Up over my lap."

Fighting the urge to beg for mercy, she obeyed, laying over the hard thighs and tensing in anticipation.

"Your bottom is nice and hot for me," he told her, settling her. "But it's only a dark pink. I want it red before I whip you."

She whimpered.

"Shhh." He continued to soothe her smarting cheeks, easing the pain and preparing them for the next round at the same time. "Your body is warming to me. Soon your mind will accept the pain and you'll fly away."

He spanked her, hard, and she nearly flew up off his lap. The strike seemed harder than the others.

"Jesse, please, I'll be good. It's too much."

"I can feel you. Your body likes it. Your body knows I'm its master."

She settled back down.

"You can do this."

But he continued and she felt the words fall from her mouth, begging him, pleading with him.

He alternated strokes with little touches between her legs, and that was the most humiliating, that her body would respond to his discipline with desire.

The pain sparked fire inside her that would burn forever; it would never be put out. She would always crave what his hand could do to her.

He seemed to understand. "You're mine, now, Susannah. I'll do what I like to you. But I'll never truly hurt you." His hand cracked down, and she almost didn't feel the hits in one spot. The pain radiated out from everywhere.

"You can let go, Susannah. I've got you." He steadied her with one hand, and wrapped one of his legs around hers.

Somehow that intensified the feeling. His spanking was lighter now. Susannah closed her eyes and let herself float. Every smack, every blow jolted her closer and closer to a beautiful place. She didn't have to think, she didn't even have to feel, she just had to be. The juice collected and pooled between her legs, running down her thigh and staining her sir's trousers. He wouldn't walk away from this session unaffected.

He intensified the spanking, and though she shivered and cried, she longed for it to push her forward, to another level. Her mouth parted and she sighed once she reached it.

"Susannah," Jesse called from far away. "On the bed again." He had to help her flop down on the coverlet, and arrange her limbs. She felt drowsy, almost drunk as she let him tie her hands and legs, stretching her out.

"I'm going to whip you now." His hands were everywhere, rubbing her back and arms, sliding down her sides to frame her heated bottom, then down her legs.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him lift the quirt. She didn't feel any fear, though, only anticipation, sweet on her tongue, heavy between her breasts and thighs. "I won't be too harsh. I don't want to damage you."

"I know," she whispered, and shivered as he drew down his hand from neck to thigh, pausing every so often to massage her flesh.

"I would never do anything to mar this perfection."

He spent a few long minutes just trailing the line up and down her back, letting the braid bump over the skin of her back and chafe her bottom's already roasted flesh. Her body arched, longing for his touch, accepting the leather substitute. Her nipples hardened against the blanket. Her cunt was on fire.

She'd just relaxed when he stopped and positioned himself behind her.

She heard the whip crack, but it didn't register that the lash had struck her until he'd laid the second one down. He painted her backside with lines of fire, and she felt the pain through a wall, separate from her hazy thoughts. She was wriggling and moaning on the bed, pulling a little against her bonds, but as he continued to whip her, she went deeper and deeper into a lovely, warm place. There was barely any pain, just the perfect kiss of the leather, biting her skin just hard enough to make her feel, but too light to give her any real sting.

As Jesse continued, her bottom rose to meet the whip, offering herself and taking pleasure. The leather beat down on her flesh, a rain of ecstasy that washed away her sins, bathed her in love.

He struck her behind again. And again. And again. She could lean into the rhythm, and rely on it. She shrank away and returned to the pain as regular as breathing.

Her body was full of flame, cunt aching, needing release. Words spilled from her mouth, and though her ears rang with them, they were meaningless. All but one.

"Jesse," she said over, and over, as tears ran down her face from the painful pleasure. "Jesse."

She was awash in a sea of ecstasy, floating, unable to move. Her limbs relaxed as Jesse released her bonds, rubbing the marks on her wrists and ankles. Eventually she came to herself, and felt him applying balm to her bottom, quieting the sting. She relaxed until she heard him calling her name, and opened her eyes to meet his green gaze.

"You all right?" Crouched beside the bed, he offered her water, and held the cup for her to drink.

"Yes, sir," she sighed. Smiling, he stroked her hair back a little, before lying down beside her. The bed sagged under his weight, and he rubbed the back of her neck, letting her stay on her belly. She turned her face towards him, and he rolled to his back, reaching for her until she scooted into his side, lying half over him.

"It wasn't too harsh, was it?" His hands moved lightly over her hair and shoulders, careful of her back.

"No," she whispered shyly. "I liked it."

"Good. Do you need anything else?"

"Just this." Throwing an arm around his waist, she snuggled into his warmth.

* * *

They spent the day in bed together. After sleeping until noon, Jesse woke and applied the balm again, wiped her face with a wet cloth, then brushed her hair. She stayed on her belly, gazing up at him with love.

"We'll stay here another night. A day on your belly is what you need," he told her with a grin.

"You mean a good hard whipping is what I needed," Susannah said, her voice muffled against the blankets.

"That too." Jesse laughed and kissed her hair before going down to get a plate of food. He sat on the bed and fed her each bite, dipping his head often for a soft kiss. The kissing led to touching and the touching led to other things, and after it all Susannah slept again, her cheek pillowed on her husband's shoulder.

The sun was setting when she woke and stayed curled up against him, reluctant to move.

"Tell me a story." She lay on his chest, ear over his heartbeat.

Shifting a little so his head was propped on the pillows, Jesse settled back and began. "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful fairy queen, who fell under an enchantment and fell in love with an ass. She thought that this creature was so beautiful, she swore her undying love for it, even though he was... well, an ass."

Susannah giggled.

"And he did not treat her well. All her friends and family were under the enchantment. One day, a homely beggar came around and he saw through the spell, but no one thought he was worthy of even speaking to the queen.

But he was really a fairy king. He broke the enchantment on the fairy queen and brought her back to his castle. But the others who had mocked her he cast out, and left them under the spell so they still couldn't tell the difference between a good man, and an ass."

Tipping her head back, Susannah met his gaze. "Am I the fairy queen?"

He kissed her forehead in response.

"And my old fiancé is the ass."

"He is that, baggage."

She laughed. "That makes you the king."

Jesse's gaze turned serious. "Only to you. I'm a murderer. Outlaw. There's blood on my hands."

"No." She faced him, taking his hands and turning them over to show him. "You're not a murderer, or a thief, or an outlaw. I know I said all those things—"

"You're forgiven."

"Then let me absolve you." She kissed one palm, then the other. "You're a good man, Jesse Oberon."

Rising up on her knees, she stroked her fingers down his bare chest, admiring the muscles there.

He caught her hands. "What are you doing?"

She smiled. "Healing your scars."

Releasing her, he lay back. "There are so many."

"Let me see them." Finding the burn on the back of his hand, she pressed her lips to it. "I kiss the scar that made you known to me."

Her gaze stayed locked with his. He guided her to his shoulder to another long weal, a pale snake marring the tanned skin. "A knife fight in Boulder." Bending down, she kissed the scar, then ran her tongue lightly along his collarbone, tasting his salty flesh.

Pushing her hands under him, she stroked the jagged scars of his back, kissing his chest. "I kiss the hurt of your childhood." Her mouth drifted over his muscles, licking and sucking as she worked her way down.

Reaching up, he pulled the thong that held her braid, and let her hair rain down on his skin. His muscles tightened under the golden caress.

Susannah stopped at a puckered mark on his side and swirled her tongue around it. Her eyes lifted in curiosity to his.

"Bullet nicked me." He panted a little.

"I'm thankful, then, that it spared your life." She gave the scar another kiss, just for good measure.

Jesse was shifting restlessly under her ministrations, his hands working at his trousers and drawing them down. Positioning herself between his legs, Susannah pushed her hair back and pulled at her nightdress to expose her creamy breasts.

"Here," Jesse growled, and she bent. His hand caught her around her neck and guided her to his inner thigh, where an old red mark streaked the skin. "I made a man mad, and he came at me with a branding iron."

"Mmm, I know the feeling." Susannah smiled as his hand tugged her insistently. Her tongue lapped at the red skin, and she kissed it, feeling his cock grow long against her face.

Turning her head, she blew hot breath over his member, her hands coming to slide up and down the throbbing flesh.

"Susannah," he sighed, and she worked her mouth over him, hands and tongue and lips all playing a part until his hips tightened and he spent himself on her chest.

She mopped herself up with a handkerchief as he lay shuddering below her.

Finally, he drew her up. "Where are your scars?"

"Hidden deep, too deep for you to find."

"Let me see if I can find them."

She closed her eyes, and gave herself over to the caress of his lips and tongue.

"Here?" He sucked her neck until Susannah reluctantly shook her head no.

"Here?" Hefting her breasts in his hands, he worshiped her pink nipples until her hips were undulating slowly.

"Or here?" His mouth moved lower, stroking her belly with his tongue. Her head rolled back as he worked his way to her wet center, licking and sucking until she found her release.

When he came back up, his wet face had a big grin. "I didn't find any scars."

"That's because I don't have any," she whispered. "Not anymore. You've made them all fade away."

* * *

"Well now, isn't this a pretty sight?"

Susannah came away and Jesse jerked under her, rising and pushing between her and the intruders at the same time—the mean faced men from the mountains, the Johnsons. Billy stood at the foot of the bed, his giant partner hulking behind him. Both had guns trained on her and Jesse.

"What do you think, Bigs? Should we let them get dressed before we bring them to Doyle?" Billy sniggered.

"Just a corset for the lady," Bigs breathed. "She won't need clothes, where she's going."

Shrinking back into the blankets, Susannah whimpered.

"Let her go," Jesse said. "She has nothing to do with this."

"I bet Doyle will have a different opinion." Billy threw trousers and shirt to Jesse, motioning with his gun. "He wasn't too happy to come here and find the redhead calling herself 'Rosie May' wasn't the one he was looking for. Think your girl will be a nice replacement in his stable."

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