Read Rocky Mountain Rose (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 3) Online
Authors: Lee Savino
“All right, darlin’, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me now, Rose. You’ve been moody and quiet for a few days.”
“I thought I was doing well.” She tried to twist her hands out of his grip.
“You are. It’ll take a while for you to settle in.”
She laughed without mirth. “Settle in? I hate this, Lyle. I don’t belong here. I’m Rosie May, remember? I live in hotels and get my meals from my hosts, or my patrons. I don’t cook. I don’t clean. And I certainly don’t darn socks!” she finished with a shout.
“No one’s asking you to—”
“No one says it, but they’re all looking to Carrie Donovan and saying what a perfect little wife she is. Sweet Carrie Donovan.” Her tone turned sarcastic.
“Don’t talk about her that way,” he said sharply. “You’ll treat my friends with respect.”
Rose pulled away and Lyle stood, watching her pace the room. “Of course you would defend her. She’s so pretty and meek, just the sort of wife a man needs. You should’ve married her.”
“I don’t want her. I want you.”
“Why, Lyle? Because you think I’m like Mary? A beautiful face, and an even more lovely soul? I have news for you, I was tarnished long ago. I may not be a soiled dove, but I’m sullied all the same.”
He shook his head, brow furrowing. His confusion enraged her. “Rose, you’re not sullied or tarnished.”
“Don’t you see? I don’t belong here. Maybe if you hired men to come pan for gold, I could dance for them. I can’t be a housewife, but I could be camp woman. I’d give the most marvelous entertainment.” Her mouth twisted.
“No, you won’t,” Lyle growled. “Your dancing days are over. You’re my wife, now; you won’t dance for any man but me.”
“As if I would dance for you.” She tossed her head and strode off.
Lyle caught up with her before she reached the door, and took hold of her arm. “Do not walk away from me.”
“Get off me!”
“Rose, stop. Where do you think you’re going?”
“Anywhere but here.” She tried to wrench her arm away, and when he wouldn’t let go, she cursed at him. “These past few days are a fairy tale, but it isn’t real. I’ll never be the perfect wife you want. I’m just a bit of calico and pleasant in the sack.”
“Don’t talk about yourself like that.” Lyle shook her.
“Have you ever thought about how hard it is for me? I’ve never done this before. Just let me go!” She struggled, but he was stronger and had her across the room, crowding her back against the wall. Every muscle in his body stood taut and ready for the fight.
“You’re not going back, Rose. Not ever.”
She slapped him hard across the face.
He caught her wrists, pulling her closer. “I think you need a reminder of who’s in charge here.”
She kicked at him, even as her heart picked up speed.
Turning her, and forcing her arm behind her back, he marched her to the chair.
She shouted and kicked, but after a few seconds she found herself bare bottomed and unbalanced over his knees.
“I think you know you earned this, Rose. You will not speak in disrespect of anyone. I will not tolerate talk against me, our friends, or even you.” He started spanking her, lighter slaps that resounded on her bare skin.
“Stop it, you blackguard!” She thrashed her feet, and he smacked her harder, in warning.
“Do I have to tie you down? Because if I do, I’ll get the strop.”
She hesitated, thinking of the harsh punishment by the riverside, then shook her head.
“You must learn to control your temper.” Lyle’s hand resumed punishing her, beating in time to his words. Rose whimpered and squealed as the hits warmed her body, and her buttocks slowly started to burn. “I know you like to fight, and we’re gonna disagree on things now and then, but that doesn’t mean we throw away what have. You don’t walk away from me.”
She cried out, more from his words than from the harsh smacks. Her bottom was throbbing, but so were her lady parts, responding to his dominance. As the spanking continued, she felt herself slide into submission. Lyle kept on, spanking up one cheek and down the other with an iron palm. It hurt, but she found herself able to accept the pain. Her body relaxed over his muscular legs, her face to the floor and hanging limply so her hair almost brushed the floorboards.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and shuddered with the knowledge that she truly regretted her hasty action.
He gave her a few more good ones on her sits spots, and though she winced, she didn’t struggle. When he stopped, he rested one hand in the small of her back and the other on her thigh. She waited for him to move, staying quiet and still. Somehow, some way, Lyle Wilder had tamed her.
At last he drew her up to stand between his legs, a pose she’d taken earlier that night, before she’d lost control of her temper. Her hair fell into her face and he stroked back the red strands.
“What are you sorry for, darlin’?”
Looking in his honest eyes while she confessed her wrongs seemed much worse than the spanking. She took a deep breath. “I made fun of Carrie, even though she’s only been a friend to me. I called you a blackguard, and threatened to leave you.”
Hands on her hips, he pulled her closer. His voice was serious but she could tell he was pleased. “Anything else?”
She hesitated, then confessed. “I spit into your coffee at dinner.”
His eyebrows shot up. “What?”
“I was angry. I haven’t done it before,” she added quickly. “Just this once.”
His head dropped for a moment. Standing before him, all she could see was his thick, dark hair. Finally, he looked back at her, his expression caught somewhere between laughter and exasperation.
“And what do you think should be your punishment for that?”
“Not the strop,” she answered immediately.
“Not sure you deserve that. What you did was very disrespectful, though.” A little smile appeared on his face. “Can’t have you spitting into the food and drink. Not when you’ve just learned to make it.
She stiffened and he caught her hand. “Hey, you’re doing well. I’m proud of you for everything you’ve come through, and how you carry on. You must know that. But I’ll stop teasing you.” His fingers squeezed hers. “I never meant to hurt you, but I did, and I apologize.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Thank you.”
He stood, and her head tilted to look up at him.
“I’m going to finish punishing you,” he said. “You’re to follow my lead and obey every command I give you, but if you are good—and I mean, very good—you’ll get a reward.” The promise in his deep voice brought pink to her cheeks, and an expectant ache lower down.
“Yes, Lyle.”
“Good girl. Take off your clothes.”
She stripped quickly, not bothering to tease him. Her husband watched with arms folded, the blue fire in his eyes the only break from his stern expression. As her layers came off, she felt more and more exposed. Showing skin was her way of taking control of her audience, but Lyle took that power away. A part of her wanted to hide from his penetrating gaze, but the rest her wanted to obey, to follow his lead and submit fully, if only it would please him.
When the last item fell to the floor, he nodded. “Very good. Go lean over the table.”
She did, and he came with a blanket so she could lay her front down without damaging her tender skin on roughhewn wood.
“This can be punishment, or it can be play,” he told her as his fingers traced patterns over her back. “Spread for me, darlin’. Wider. That’s it.” He parted her legs, and she settled her feet further apart. She shivered, but not with cold.
Lyle disappeared for a moment and she waited, bottom smarting, legs wide and lady parts dripping. When he returned, he paused behind her then let out a low whistle.
“That’s the prettiest site this side of the mountains. Your sweet little cunny all on display.” His fingers dipped between her legs and her knees started to draw together, but he whipped his hand away and laid two sharp smacks on either cheek.
“Push your bottom up,” he ordered. “Higher. Let me see you.” She heard him move and then felt hot breath on her lady parts. “Now that’s nice. Your bottom’s all red and your pussy’s all pink.”
She stayed very still, not daring to breathe, as his tongue touched her lower lips. His breath warmed her flesh as his tongue began to explore.
“Lyle,” she moaned, and he put his hands on the back of her thighs to keep her legs apart.
“Stay still, Rose. Don’t move.”
As he kept licking her, she found it impossible to keep from arching her back, pushing herself closer to his mouth.
“Naughty, naughty Rose,” he growled, pulling back and laying a few more lazy strikes on her flaming bottom. She yipped, but the hits didn’t really hurt, just inflamed her further.
“Please, Lyle.”
“That’s it, my lovely. Beg me.” His mouth kissed up one thigh and then the other, never quite reaching the point she wanted.
“Please, please. I’ll be so good,” she whispered. Her eyes stayed closed, her thoughts completely focused on his little licks and touches, drawing ever closer to the center.
“You better be. Next time you run from me, I’ll tie you here, and use a switch, the strop and my hand until your ass is bright red.” He kissed higher, his stubble scraping her raw bottom before his mouth travelled lower. “Then I’ll tease you and leave you wanting for hours, waiting for me.” His tongue found her lower folds and she sighed.
He pulled away and stood up, and she sagged in desperation, then started to rise.
“Stay.” He unleashed a flurry of spanks onto her cheeks. To her surprise, instead of cringing, she pushed her bottom higher, trying to meet his hand, her body begging for stimulation. “Do I have to tie you down?”
“No, Lyle.”
“Good girl.” His fingers slipped between her legs, checking her wetness. When they disappeared, she kept still.
When he returned, she felt an object tapping her bottom. She looked back just in time for him to smack her with a wooden spoon.
She yelped.
“Since you misbehaved while cooking, I’ll make sure you think of your punishment every time you’re at the hearth.”
The spoon popped her again, making her jump. Lyle peppered her aching bum until her apology poured out of her nonstop.
“Quiet.” He put his strop between her teeth, and she bit down on the leather, reminded that things could be much worse.
The spanking went on so long she feared her bottom would burst into flame.
“Spread for me,” he ordered, and popped her on the inside of her thighs when she didn’t obey right away. Rose moaned, guessing what was coming.
The spoon lightly tapped her lady parts, pain and pleasure exploding through her. Her knees knocked together, and he smacked her bottom, hard until she separated her legs. Trembling, jaw clenched on the strop, she waited for the next blow to fall.
Instead, her husband smoothed a hand down her back. “You’re doing so good, my lovely.” Carefully, he slid the spoon between her lower lips, the smooth wood touching just enough to stimulate her. Her eyes squeezed shut, every fiber of her being focused on the sensation.
“Oh, no,” she groaned when he took the spoon away.
“Be still, Rose.” She could hear the wicked smile in his voice. “You deserve this. A treat.” She heard him kneel, and then gasped as he put his mouth to her and lapped until she was clawing at the table, overwhelmed by sensation. No part of her could avoid his lips, and when she tried to move, he gripped her hips and held her still for his probing tongue.
He drew away and sucked on her lower lips, then licked up the inside of her thighs, drawing ever closer to her aching center.
“Oh, please, Lyle,” she almost screamed as his tongue tormented her with little swipes up and down and over her pleasure bud.
He stood suddenly, and her legs gave out, leaving her slumped over the table.
“Do you understand now, Rose? Do you feel how I burn for you?”
Something hard and hot brushed her lower lips and she pushed her bottom out, searching for his cock. He slid it back and forth between her slick lady parts and she half sobbed with need.
“I want you like this, all the time, every day. You drive me crazy.” His hand wound in her hair, pulling until her back arched off the table. His other hand fondled her outthrust breasts and caught a nipple, tweaking it without mercy. “You ever leave me, I’ll hunt you down. I’ll tie you up and whip you so you won’t sit for a week. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Lyle,” she moaned as he gripped her hair and pulled her head back, sucking and claiming the pale skin of her neck. She gasped as the pleasure sensations inside her reached a boiling point. “I’ll do anything. Just please…please…”
He let her go and she sagged down, lying before him face down on the table, a willing sacrifice.
“Raise your bottom and offer yourself to me,” he said hoarsely.
She obeyed, widening her stance in invitation. She’d give him anything, and everything. Her body, her spirit, her mind was all she had. She’d give it all.
A pause while Lyle lined up his cock, and then he slammed into her. The result was everything she’d been waiting for and more; she soared towards her climax as tremors overtook her entire body. His fingers bit into her hips, holding her in thrall as he rocked in and out of her.
“If I were to brand you, I’d put it right here.” He slapped the side of her ass and she yelped. Then he squeezed her butt cheek and she moaned. Her bottom still ached, and pleasure/pain filled her mind, mingling together in a dizzying concoction.
Gaining her feet, she pushed back onto his cock with as much force as she could muster, even though her cheeks stung as they slapped against his body. Her body clenched around him, gripping him like a sheath, and he bellowed, surging forward and lifting her legs so he could plow into her.
Her orgasm rolled over her again, and this time Lyle was also caught up in the inferno. One final thrust and he came into her, his big body covering hers, and he shuddered in pleasure.
“Oh, god,” she moaned as the tremors in his body caught her and tortured her over stimulated pussy.
“Not God.” Lyle lowered his head and sucked on the back of her shoulder. “Lyle Wilder, ma’am, at your service.” He pulled out of her and she cried out, jerking as another mini orgasm swept over her. As soon as she could, she stood up and started to limp towards the water bucket, desperate for a cooling rag on her burning bottom and lady bits.