Rocky Mountain Wife (20 page)

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Authors: Kate Darby

BOOK: Rocky Mountain Wife
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“You must be worried I’ve changed my mind. No need. Just try and stop me.” Humor rumbled, holding a naughty note, and she knew he was thinking of them together, bodies joined and mating. She thought of that moment when he came—the buck of his body, the roaring groan in his throat, the way he held her so tight, emptying into her thrust after thrust after thrust.

And she wanted him like that again. To watch pleasure move across his face, see the light change in his eyes the moment he ejaculated. She loved the gruff-tender way he buried his face in the curve of her shoulder when the last shudder of orgasm rocked through his big body. Then there was the moment when he sighed, satisfied. She liked that moment, liked knowing she could give him that, after all he had done for her.

“Your eyes have gone completely black.” He chuckled, his hands moving down to tease the points her nipples had become. “You want me.”

“Gee, I wish I could deny it.” She smiled. She didn’t know why this man stirred her, but he did. She felt restless, wet already. Her feminine folds were swelling, wanting him.

“There’s nothing wrong with this, what we share together.” The rough calluses on his palm rasped against her chin as his hands moved up to cup her face.

His tenderness flowed into her, filling her, fueling the craving she had for him. She leaned into his touch. She was burning like a flame, her hunger for him turned to fire in her veins. Her inner muscles ached for the feel of him there, moving inside her.

“Come with me.” He led her into his home, through the tidy but small kitchen. He set the basket on a tiny round table and led her into a narrow bedroom.

She followed him willingly, wanting his hands on her skin. As if he wanted it, too, he backed her up to the bed and shucked off his shirt and trousers. His eyes sparkled with want. Aroused, she pulled her cervical cap out of her pocket, blushing when she saw him noticing it.

Yes, she’d hoped, she told him without words, with only a smile.

His answer was a growl as he divested her of her clothes and laid her gently down on his bed. The bed ropes groaned as he stretched out beside her, nude and aroused, his penis so engorged and beautiful she couldn’t resist wrapping her hand around it. A small trail of wetness gathered there at the tip, and she ran her thumb over it, his seed.

She didn’t know why that aroused her so much, just made her lose her mind. She didn’t want a real marriage, she didn’t want to bond any more with Joshua. She’d given up all hopes of another baby when Clay had been unable to perform. But the thought of Joshua putting his seed inside her made her crazy, it made her give him a push back and rise up boldly over him, ready to fit them together.

His eyes had glazed over. Tenderness showed on his face. Just pure tenderness. He gripped her hips, guiding her over the bulbous, ready head of his shaft. That hardness bumped against her folds, parting them, and she took him inside in one smooth, breathless glide.

His mouth touched hers with a gentle, ravenous kiss. It was easier to do this without words, to surrender to the exhilaration and pleasure. She rode him hard, until she was bouncing up and down and their flesh slapped wetly together. His hands, his mouth, both were on her breasts, caressing and feasting. Her head rocked back. She was going to come, it was there, her body tightening, orgasm within her grasp. But he stopped it by lifting her off him and stretched out over her on the bed.

His eyes were intense. He panted hard, sweat beading his forehead. She let her thighs fall open, exposing herself to him completely, showing him what she wanted, what she had to give. She was panting hard too, her skin slick with sweat, so hot she feared she might burst into flame. He gazed into her eyes for a long moment, his penis wet against the inside of her thigh—wet with her juices.

When he grabbed his shaft and pushed it into her, there were no words. He entered her slowly, letting her feel every exquisite inch of him. Sheer paradise. She wrapped her arms around his back as he began a rhythm, moving in and out of her, sinking deep against her womb and then stroking away. Pure, pure pleasure. Her hips bucked, her body thrashed. She felt wrenched apart by him and held together by him at the same time.

He pinned her down with his weight, kissing her, just kissing her. She let her fingertips rove over him, taking in that wonderful alive feeling of his hard muscles moving beneath his sun bronzed skin. Just taking delight in treasuring everything about him. He thrust harder and harder, mating with her. Suddenly she was wild beneath him, wanting only one thing, she tightened those muscles gloving him. He roared in agonized pleasure, his hips pounding, his shaft shooting a hot stream of sperm against her womb.

She came. And came. And came.

When it was over, she kissed him sweetly, unprepared for the tenderness this big, rugged man made her feel. She saw him glance at the night table where she’d forgotten her cervical cap, and inside her his shaft began to swell.

He rolled her onto her stomach, drew her knees beneath her and entered her from behind. Like a wild stallion, he pumped into her. He thrust hard, slapping against her bare bottom and the back of her thighs, his ball sack swinging.

Like a mare in heat, she arched her back, giving him better access, and braced her hands on the bed. The fierce angle of his thrusts, the clamp of his arm as he gripped her around the waist, lifting her up into his thrusts excited her beyond reason.

Her body began to move, wild and free, seeking every bit of pleasure. The hard friction of his penis, the relentless in and out, the thrill of feeling his shaft swell even more and his sack tighten, ready to come. Her breasts, dangling and swinging, and she came hard, clamping down on him in harsh, blissful pulses.

She collapsed to the bed, her rear in the air as he cried out, coming triumphantly, his cock throbbing and filling her with every last drop he had.

He pulled her against him and collapsed on the bed, spent, half-dead, and wrapped her tenderly to his chest. She was breathing hard too, boneless, barely able to move. He kissed the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair, feeling her small, slender body soft and hot against his. His cock rested against the inside of her thigh. Now that was what he’d been wanting to do all along. Make her wholly his. The swell of tenderness in his chest was too great to measure, but this was just the start of the love he felt for her. A love that would never end.

He brushed a tear from her cheek. She’d been overcome by the pleasure and her release. She gave him a satisfied smile. Lying there, so beautiful she made his teeth ache, he saw his future. Of the two of them happy, living in the same house, loving just like this every night. A toddler sleeping in the room next door and Claire’s body rounded with their baby to come.

Untold affection welled up at the thought of her carrying his child. He rolled her onto her back, hard again, and rode her one more time. As orgasm shuddered through him and he emptied into her, he whispered to her. “I love you. With everything I have. With all I am. I am yours.”

“Oh, Joshua.” She was crying, her beautiful body rocking with the power of her orgasm. She clung to him, as her body tightened and released around his, and the sweetness of it was by far the best thing he’d ever known.

* * *

That didn’t go like she planned at all. Claire laid her hand over her skirt pocket, feeling the unused cervical cap inside. With every step she took in the long evening shadows along the fence line, she could feel the squish of wetness between her thighs. Proof of what they’d done. The stickiness from Joshua reminded her of the risk she was taking—and of his whispered confession in bed.

Her heart broke, knowing she was disappointing him. She hadn’t been able to say the words in return. She couldn’t. How could she let love into her heart again? It hurt too much to even think about it. After all she’d been through—loss, grief, disappointment—she was afraid. So she’d left him sleeping there, exhausted, his hair tousled and breathing hard and slow in his sleep.

It had been hard to walk away from him naked like that, his magnificent body had looked scrumptious. His bronzed skin, swirling dark hair in all the right places, and long, lean muscle. His penis was soft but substantial. Was it wrong that she still thought of it—of him—even as she did the right thing and walked away?

“Hi Ma!” A faint, singsong voice rang out.

Ivy. Love for her daughter filled her heart—sweet, warm and everlasting. It felt so bright, so big and beautiful, like the sun coming out after a long, bitter winter. It just lit her right up. She squinted through the last long rays of the sinking sun, across the shadowy field to her backyard where a pink-dressed little girl stood on a stout maple tree branch and waved happily.

Claire waved back, noticing the brilliant underbellies of the clouds overhead were painted with the radiant golds and purples of sunset. The world felt iridescent, reverent in the last fading light of the day. Birdsong rose loudly as if to celebrate. The breeze puffed musically through the tall grasses and cottonwood trees. The colors—the deep, shadowed blue of the sky, the lush green grassy meadows, the bright wildflowers—seemed so vibrant, they hurt her eyes.

It’s because I’m coming back to life again,
she realized. Her world was no longer gray, her heart no longer broken. Her grief was past.

Joshua had done that. Dear, sweet, strong Joshua.

Her feet felt like wings as she sailed through the grasses and picked a handful of daisies for the kitchen table. By the time she reached her backyard, the last vestiges of light had faded from the west. Stars began to blink to life, tiny dazzling wonders. A reminder that no matter how dark the times, nothing could extinguish light—life, love, hope. Those things were too strong. Life, love and hope would always prevail.

“Ma, do you know what I need?” Ivy climbed down from the tree.

“No, sweetheart. What is it that you need?”

“A real tree fort.” Ivy skipped over and took Claire’s hand. “Gramma and I are gonna draw up plans for one tomorrow. First thing after school.”

“That sounds like wonderful fun.” Claire felt like she was bursting, just bursting with love and joy. “I have some paper and a pencil I can lend you. You can draw your plans up really big and detailed. That way you can get everything just right.”

“Okay.” Ivy let go and hopped up the steps. “Then we’re gonna build it. You, me and Gramma. It’s gonna be the best fort ever, so that when Pa looks down at me from heaven, he sees me first because I’m in the tree and up so high.”

“I think he would love that very much.” Claire stopped on the porch, turning to catch her mother’s eye. She had tears pooling, too.

This life is an amazing journey,
she thought, holding out her hand to invite her mother in for a late cup of cool tea. There was so much loss, so much pain that could rip your heart in two.

But there was everything here to make it more whole than it had ever been before. Love, family, and joy. She lit a lamp and went in search of a jar for the daisies.

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

Joshua groaned and rolled over, reaching out instinctively for Claire. The bed beside him was empty, the sheet cool. How long had she been gone? Maybe the better question was how long had she lain there watching him sleep? A satisfied smile moved across his mouth, and he sighed.

She wasn’t even here, and yet just thinking of her comforted him so much, it stilled his soul. He’d been alone nearly all of his life, and he’d always thought it was better that way. That he was better off that way than trying to be something he wasn’t. But that was wrong. He was better with Claire. What he felt for her had become too big. It had taken root deep inside him and had taken over, filling him with affection too great to measure.

His stomach rumbled, and he debated getting off the bed and digging into that supper basket she’d brought him. His muscles didn’t want to move. Probably because he’d worn himself out making love to her. And afterwards, the caring words and pleasing touches, that sated feeling of being with her had put everything else right out of his head.

Maybe he’d better get up and eat, because the night wasn’t over yet. He would need energy if he wanted to crawl into her bed tonight and love her until she surrendered, until her pleasure broke through her and into her. His blood kicked, hot and heavy in his veins, wanting to come with her, wanting to treasure her through another night.

A floorboard squeaked in the kitchen, a little heavy but soft. Quiet. Like someone sneaking in, maybe not wanting to wake him if he was asleep. Had Claire put Ivy to bed and then come back for more? He turned toward the rustle, starting to lift himself off the bed. He saw muddy riding boots. That was all. Alarm rushed through him, but he didn’t have time to react. There was the bang and flash of a gun firing and something threw him down on the bed. Confused, it took a moment to think through the shock, to realize there was something wet against his skin, staining the white sheet.

Blood. His blood. He’d been shot.

But why? It was his last thought as light drained from his eyes and darkness pulled him down.

* * *

Claire dropped the tea ball into the hot water and carried the teapot to the kitchen table. She cocked her head, trying to make sense of the noise she’d just heard. It had been faint, but sudden and sharp like a thunderclap. But there was no storm, and it really sounded more like—

“A gunshot.” Ma pushed up from her chair at the table. Concern wrinkled her forehead. “Just one. And it sounded sort of close. Maybe Joshua’s place?”

“Just what I was thinking.” She set down the teapot hard on the tabletop, going to the open back door. Night had fallen. She could see nothing but faint starlight on the inky landscape. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

“Maybe he was chasing off a wild animal from the horses,” Ma suggested, but she looked worried, too. Gunfire wasn’t something you heard often in this part of the countryside. “I’ll stay here and hold down the fort, if you want to—”

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