Rocky Mountain Romp (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 4) (8 page)

Now he had a wife, sweeter and more loving than he’d ever dreamed, and everything in him worked hard to treat her with care.

He sat near her on the bed, pulling off his boots. “You warm enough in here?”

“Yes, Miles,” she said softly, and he shot her a small smile, which she returned.

She looked less frightened, but still worried. “Is everyone okay?”

Standing to strip off his shirt, he considered his answer. “Mr. Martin is still recovering. Mrs. Lovett isn’t the sort to be faint hearted.”

He moved in front of her, looking down at her sweet face, and touched the thick fall of chestnut hair, stroking back an unruly curl that always seemed to fall over her face.

His wife bit her lip. “I’m so sorry.”

Nodding, he reached for his daughter. Carrie handed the baby up, and Miles felt his face soften as he looked down at sleeping Mary. He kissed her downy head, and lay her in the blanket lined basket Esther had found for a bassinet.

Then he turned back to his wife, who now sat with her head bowed, hands worrying the fringe of her nursing shawl.

He sat beside her again and, taking her shoulders, turned her to face him. “Carrie, look at me.”

She did, and his heart melted. Her eyes were awash with unshed tears. “We didn’t want to cause so much trouble.”

“I know, sweetheart. Why didn’t you tell me of this?”

Her throat worked a while before she whispered, “They’re my friends.”

“I know they’re your friends, but your first loyalty is to me. And scheming to trick two good people—that’s not like you.”

Her face fell, and she let out a sobbing breath. Miles could no longer stand being so far from her. Guiding her into his lap, he tucked her face into his neck, securing his other arm around her small, curvy body as she cried it out.

His Carrie, so tenderhearted.

“It’s all right,” he murmured. “What’s done is done. Everyone is safe and warm tonight; it’ll all work out.”

“What will happen to them?” she sniffled.

“Not to worry, sweetheart. In the morning, we’ll talk it out and see what needs to be done. If Mrs. Lovett wants to stay here, she can. We’ll all pitch in to help her.”

She nodded, still looking miserable.

Lifting her easily, he set her on the bed. “Rest now, sweet Carrie.”

She blinked. “You’re not going to punish me?”

He couldn’t help chuckling at her tone, half relieved, half disappointed.

“Not right now.” Bending down, he smoothed her thick hair away from her forehead and kissed it. Turning off the light, he climbed into bed and settled on his side, chin atop her head, arms around her.

Nights were his favorite time with his wife. During her pregnancy, he watched in wonder as her body changed. Her curves, always stunning, had grown even more lush, until she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Often he had her undress and lie in bed so he could admire her. As her belly grew, he rubbed balm into her skin every night, massaging her muscles until her body glowed in the candlelight. Most rub downs ended with him exploring her secret places, kissing, sucking, lapping, and drinking the dew from her sweet pussy until her hands fisted in his hair and her cries rang in his ears.

He felt himself harden at the happy memory, and shifted a little, delighting in the feel of her soft bottom against his length.

“Sleep now, Carrie.” He nuzzled her ear, hearing her sigh. “We’ll settle things in the morning.”

Tomorrow, early, he planned to find someone to watch the baby, so he could have his wife all to himself for a while. With that thought, and a silly grin on his face, Miles fell asleep.

* * *

“Carrie,” Miles whispered, stroking back her hair.

“Mmmm.” She moved, stretching, but didn’t open her eyes.

Threading his hand into her chestnut curls, Miles drew her head back gently and kissed her.

For Miles, morning had come too slowly. He’d spent the night rock hard, listening to his wife’s gentle breathing, and inhaling her sweet scent. Carrie had woken once to feed the baby, and then come back to bed. Miles often cared for Mary early in the morning so her mama could sleep. Today, he’d ventured out and found Esther in the kitchen, all too willing to keep an eye on Mary in the bassinet.

It had been a long time since he’d been this excited on a Christmas morning.

He strode back into the bedroom where Carrie slept. She looked so beautiful he almost couldn’t bear to wake her, but he had plans for them that morning and there wasn’t much time.

He felt his wife wake under the kiss, but didn’t release her lips. “Time to wake up,” he murmured against them. He’d shed his clothes, and now was working her shift off and over her head. As soon as it whipped off her head, he saw her eyes were now wide on his.

“What about Mary—”

“With Esther,” he said, and rolled on top of his wife, feeding on her lips. A few more minutes and her body came alive, pressing up into him.

His fingers slipped between her legs to check—she was wet and ready for him.

“Spread for me,” he ordered, and she parted her legs, catching her breath as he slid down her body. When he got between her legs, he drew her knees even further apart, rewarding her with a hot gust of breath right on her lower lips. Then he lightly licked up and down, listening for the little whimpers of pleasure that Carrie tried to hold in. She was so innocent, often acting younger than her twenty-five years, but he knew how to unleash the wildness dormant inside. Taking his time, he nibbled her inner thighs. The air filled with the scent of her arousal as his tongue teased the inside of her thighs, flicking closer and closer to her center. Then he added his fingers, grinning as he felt her body clench around his digits. Her little cries were increasing when he withdrew them.

“No, no,” he said, wiping wet from his lips as he rose up to his knees. “This isn’t for you. This is punishment.”

Her head sank back onto the bed and she groaned.

“Up,” he ordered. “Hands and knees.”

She got into position quickly, breathing hard already as she guessed what was coming. During her pregnancy, he’d been careful, choosing to discipline her with a lecture followed by time outs in the corner, but now it was time.

He ran his hand down her back, feeling her shiver. “I know it’s been a while, sweetness. But you deserve this.”

“Yes, Miles,” she said, hair hanging over her face, so he lifted it and turned her chin to him. “I’ll be gentle.” He kissed her. “You’ve worked up quite a tally, but we’ll deal with that another day.” He almost grinned at the thought, but kept serious.

“I understand, sir.”

“There’s my good girl.”

He knelt beside her, rubbing her bottom, squeezing and then swatting her lightly to prepare her skin. Her breath caught as he finished the warm up and spanked her harder, smacking down one cheek and then the other. Her skin turned from pale to pink to a darkening blush, a beautiful sight Miles never grew tired of.

After a few minutes, Carrie was sobbing, her face lowering into her hands, but she kept her bottom high in the air, just as he liked it.

Pausing, he ordered her to part her knees further. He continued the spanking, watching her juices flow until her inner thighs were coated. He longed to stop and have a taste, but kept reddening her cheeks.

Her skin turned dark pink, and he stopped. His hand slipped between her legs, teasing her a little. He felt her body tighten as she held her breath.

His fingers stilled and she sighed, but didn’t beg him.

Stepping off the bed, Miles checked her bottom and the rest of her. His wife’s face was wet with tears. He pushed back her hair again, cupping a cheek in one large palm.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Almost done.”

She took a shaky breath, and leaned into his hand. He bent to take her lips. “So sweet.” Going to the end of the bed, he admired his wife’s curvy form, her backside an even shade of dusky pink. Then he went to fetch something from his bags.

“I don’t have your paddle here, wife, so I had to improvise.”

He pulled out a long leather crop, a black flap at the end. Testing it on his hand, he saw Carrie wince and look back at the sound.

“Oh, no Miles,” she said.

He pointed, indicating that she should lie with forehead to the blankets, bottom up on raised knees, presenting a perfect target.

“Don’t argue, Carrie. You earned this.”

“Yes, sir.”

But he took a moment and stroked her back, feeling her tremble. “Carrie.” He bent down so his face was level with hers. “You know I would never truly hurt you.”

She turned liquid eyes to his, shutting them tight and then opening them again. “I know.”

Reaching out, he touched her cheek lightly. She took his hand and kissed it, then turned her face to the bed, gripping the blanket in her fists.

“It’s almost over.” He tapped her backside, then swung the crop down harder, smacking one fleshy cheek then the other.

She jumped a little, but didn’t cry out. The fear of the crop was worse than the actual sting.

Miles gave her a few more taps, then had a devilish thought. Standing directly behind his wife, he rubbed the leather flap her between legs.

Carrie gave a shocked cry and her knees snapped shut.

“No,” he barked. “Spread.” The crop hit the inside of her thighs until she squeaked and opened them.

“We’ll have to work on this, dear heart. Once a week in the woodshed. I’ll tie you up until you learn to stay still.”

She moaned and he worked the crop back and forth between her legs, rubbing her folds. When he pulled it out, the leather was coated with wet. He definitely would be using the crop on her again. Carrie didn’t often earn punishment anymore, but still liked the playful discipline, along with being tied up.

“Do you like your new toy?” he teased, watching her nipples harden. “I’m going to tame you like a wild filly and teach you to mind. Maybe get a bit for your mouth so you keep quiet.” He liked the idea so much, he had to pause to rub his throbbing member. Carrie did, too, for the tops of her thighs were now shiny with her juices.

He used the crop on her bottom some more, not hitting hard, just enough to make her jump. It only took a little twist of his hand and the crop landed with a resounding smack. As much as he wanted to mark her, today he would keep it light, and work up to the harder, stinging hits. He had all winter to practice.

Satisfied with the color of her bottom, Miles went back to torturing her, sliding the leather back and forth over her slick center until she was panting.

“I don’t think you deserve to come.” He took the crop away, and smacked her twice, once on each bum cheek. Two red marks showed, but Carrie didn’t seem to mind.

“Please, sir.” Her voice sounded low and breathy. Her legs spread further apart, bottom tipping so he could see her plump red lips enticing him.

“Beg me,” he ordered, fisting his cock.

Her head craned to see him, her eyes almost glassy in her pretty face. Watching him work his cock, she licked her lips, and he almost spent himself at the sight.

“Please, I need you. I need…” Babbling nonsensically, she pressed her cheek to the bed and arched back as far as she could.

Miles couldn’t take it anymore. Moving to the front of the bed, he climbed up and put his back to the headboard. Once seated, he used a handful of her thick hair to guide her until she knelt before him, mouth open near his cock.

“Suck,” he rasped, and she did. Her mouth made small sucking sounds as her tongue lapped at him eagerly. He touched her with the crop, but she didn’t need encouragement. Wild with desire, Carrie was intent on devouring him, working her tongue up and down his length, then swallowing the head and teasing it with her tongue.

He tugged her head off his cock and fell to his back.

“Ride me.” He tossed away the crop. After only a moment’s hesitation, she crawled up over him. They’d only done this a few times, and the sight of her bouncing over him turned the position into his favorite.

Heat rose into her eyes until he almost didn’t recognize his sweet wife. A red-lipped siren, nipples pointing and body ripe for him sank down onto his cock, shuddering a little as he filled her. She was short and curvy and unbelievably perfect, but as she rocked over him, she bit her lip, still shy.

Gently, Miles hefted one breast then the other, swiping thumbs across her nipples before stroking his hands down her back. Her eyes went half-lidded at his touches and her bouncing sped up. Miles gripped her hips to control her, holding her still longer on the down stroke so she ground against him before lifting back up. They worked this rhythm together for a moment. Then his thumb found the sweet spot between her legs, and Carrie lost it. As she started to tip over the edge, Miles reared up and took her mouth, swallowing her wild cries. His own climax hit him, and he thrust up hard, trying to root himself in her for all time.

He shot into her, then fell onto his back, seeing stars. For a moment, he could only lie there and stroke her hair. Carrie slumped over him, her curvy body sprawled over his, the most beautiful blanket in the world. Passion always exhausted his sweet girl, so he savored the moment, running his hands down her back and telling her how beautiful she was.

“Merry Christmas,” he said after a few minutes. “Do you like your gift?”

She looked at him quizzically.

“The riding crop. Next year, when Mary’s old enough to spend a half day with Rose or Esther, I’ll be training you with it.”

Her eyes widened and her whole body convulsed.

He chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

She pressed her face to his chest and nodded. Still grinning, he kissed her hair and rose to dress.

“Ready to celebrate with the others?” he asked, but when he looked back at his wife, she was still tangled in the blankets, a mournful look on her face.

Frowning, he went back to sit next to her. “What is it, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I like your gift. It’s just…” She gnawed her lip until he took her chin.

“Carrie, tell me.”

Pouting, she turned woeful eyes onto his. “I only made you a sweater.”