Rustled (18 page)

Russ read my
face, his old talent, and told me that our failing to eat all the food wouldn’t
hurt those people—there was plenty in this world, as long as people shared
their good fortune. It was then I understood why he had so many men on the
ranch. I’d have bet my last piece of clothing that he had rescued each of them
from some kind of distress. That explained their loyalty. And it made me love
him all the more.

I thought
about asking him for his decision on taking in the girls, then, but it didn’t
seem to be the time. He had gone to some trouble to make this a romantic
dinner, and I didn’t want to spoil it with business.

There was one
dish that remained covered on the cart, but Russ wouldn’t let me see what was
in it. Instead, he put it on the table, loaded everything else, from the
uneaten food to the dirty dishes, on the carts and rolled them outside. Then he
led me over to the sofa and had me sit down. Pulling something from his pocket,
he knelt in front of me. A little rush of adrenaline sent my senses tingling.

Looking at me
with the love shining from his eyes, he said, “Kitten, I love you with all of
my heart, and I have since I carried you unconscious out of that ditch. I know
we’re meant to be together. I want to marry you. Will you have me?”

Time stopped.
For a long moment I searched his face as it took on a look of anxiety when I
didn’t answer. I thought of his care of me, and his commanding ways. I thought
of the incredible sexual chemistry between us. I thought we still didn’t know
each other well enough, and then I thought of my baby, who deserved a father as
well as a mother.

And what a
father Russ would be for a little girl. Kind, protective, understanding. And
wealthy. She would have everything, much more than I could give her on my own.
Most of all, she’d have a daddy who loved her and her mom, and a mom who adored
her dad. “Yes. Oh, god, Russ, yes!”

My delayed
answer allowed Russ to let out his breath in a whoosh, and then he seized me
for a long kiss. When he broke it, I was glad I was sitting, because otherwise
I would have fallen, so swiftly did he let me go. He opened the object he had
taken from his pocket, a small black jewelry box, and showed me the most
beautiful ring I’d ever seen. It had a marquise-cut diamond, surrounded by a
ring of smaller diamonds, and delicate filigree vines with more diamonds
detailing each side.

Taking my
hand, he slipped it onto my left ring finger, where it sparkled like heaven
itself. I couldn’t believe such a beautiful thing belonged on my finger.

“Of course it
belongs on your finger,” Russ said, and I forgot to even be mad at him for
reading my mind again.

“Oh, Russ, my
love, it’s beautiful.”

“As are you,
sweetheart. I love you.”

I couldn’t
stop admiring my ring, so I was surprised to realize Russ had left my side and
was pouring champagne into two flutes, a full one for him, and just a swallow
for me. Then he uncovered a chocolate dessert that looked like it could be fit
for the last meal of a condemned queen. God, I loved this man!

All thoughts
of my mother, Russ
’s parents, Janet, the RALDS girls
and anything else were pushed out of my mind when Russ led me to bed that
night. I was used to him undressing me, he’d been doing that since before I met
him, technically. But tonight, he was more reverent than ever as he stood me at
the bottom of the bed and untied the belt that held the robe together. As he pushed
it off my shoulders and down my arms, uncovering my quivering flesh, he kissed
and caressed every inch, paying special attention to my breasts.

“I can’t wait
to taste the milk from these,” he murmured, a little shockingly. We’d have to
see about that, though I suspected he’d persuade me. His fingers lightly
brushed my mound, causing me to sway toward him, and he held me in one arm
while he had me step out of the jeans. I was wishing I had one of my beautiful
nightgowns, so much more romantic than the thick robe I’d been wearing all day,
but his busy hands soon made me forget what I’d been wearing and remember that
now I was wearing nothing.

“Get in bed,”
Russ growled, and I hastened to comply, climbing up over the footboard and to
the pillows, where I pulled the sheet and blankets from under my knees and
crawled in. The perfume from the huge bouquet of roses mingled with the clean,
fresh scent of the sheets, and wrapped me in the sensation of luxury.

When I turned
to settle, I was met by the sight of Russ’s body as I had first seen it, in
profile, with his gorgeous erection jutting out from between strong legs and
below a washboard torso that bespoke hard work. He was tossing his clothes on
the chest of drawers beside the bed. When he felt my eyes on him, he turned,
eyes glittering, and said in a low voice, “You’re mine now. All mine, forever.”
A thrill went through my rapidly heating flesh as I realized that it meant he
was also mine. All mine, forever. I held out my arms.

Russ advanced
on me, slowly, his eyes never leaving mine, until he had to either stop or
climb into the bed with me. Lifting the sheet and blanket, he slid in smoothly,
snuggling closely to me and taking me in his arms. “Never, ever forget that I
love you more than my life. Do you believe me?”

“I do. And I
love you, too.” Nuzzling into his chest, I inhaled the spicy, uniquely
Russ
aroma that I loved.

“Do you trust
me?”

“With my life,
Russ.”

“Do you
remember our first time, when I told you I’d teach you how to enjoy your body?”
Russ was stroking my hair and continuing down my back to my ass, where he would
linger a moment, and then start over again. I wanted to simply enjoy the
sensation, but knew I owed him an answer.

“Yes, I
remember.”

“And do you
remember I told you that there were things we’d do only when you trusted me
completely?” Another thrill flashed through me when I understood what he meant,
remembering the first time he’d touched me at the opening where he had never
yet fucked me. Whether of apprehension or anticipation, I didn’t know. But I
did know that he wouldn’t hurt me.

“Yes,” I said,
my voice pitched lower.

“Are you ready
for those lessons?”

I nodded,
unable to speak now, as the hand that had rested on my lower back came around
to part my legs and dip a finger into the moisture that was already gathered
there.

“Good girl.
You won’t have to do anything, let me do it. Just enjoy.” I closed my eyes, the
better to focus on what his hands were doing, and felt his lips brush my erect nipples
briefly, then nuzzle lower. Russ turned me further, until I was lying flat on
my back, with a pillow under my head. He brushed his lips over my lower belly,
blowing gently now and then.

Each breath
that touched my skin sent a shiver of anticipation straight to my core, where
he was brushing me lightly with his fingertips. When his lips traveled further,
and his tongue flicked out to touch the hood that concealed my clit, I moaned.
He opened me further, urging me to allow him full access by spreading his big
hands between my legs, and worked a finger between my outer lips, stroking
upward to find the hidden bud where his tongue was questing. When he had found
it, he lapped gently while pushing a finger all the way into me.

“You taste
different,” Russ murmured. Anxiety started to take me. Was it unpleasant? But
after a few more moments, he paused again to say, “I like it. Even sweeter, I
think. Still like nectar.” My body responded to his sensual words by letting
down even more of the juices that he lapped luxuriously. His movements were
slow and gentle, causing waves of sensation to pass through me, slowly building
my passion until long minutes later I was humming with need.

“God, Russ,
please...” I begged.

“Please what,”
he whispered against my heated flesh. I couldn’t answer.

When I thought
I was going to die of frustration if he didn’t press harder into me, his mouth
suddenly engulfed me and his tongue began an assault on my clit that made me
gasp and claw the sheets beside me. A new sensation invaded me, distracting me
from my building orgasm. A small object, his little finger? Had found its way
to my virgin rosebud opening and pushed in just a bit. I shifted to dislodge
it, wanting to feel only his tongue and finger inside me. Insistently, the
object pushed further in, and Russ whispered, “Relax, Kitten. It feels good, I
promise.”

Instantly, I
stilled, waiting for the rest. “Good girl.” Russ kept his finger there,
pressing toward the front of me now, until I relaxed. I was just getting used
to the sensation when he removed it. I felt strangely bereft, as if something
else should have happened but didn’t. “It’s going to take a while before I can
take you there, Kitten. I’ll tear you if we don’t take it slowly.”

Before I could
process that, recalling what I knew all too well, that he was endowed like a
stallion, Russ sat up and changed positions, kneeling between my legs and
pulling me toward him. He was rock hard, and thanks to his finger and tongue, I
was more than ready when he thrust into me. The sudden coupling made me clench
the muscles there, and he cried out. Holding me up with one arm, he shifted
again, until he was suspended above me, my ass cradled in one strong arm,
pumping into me steadily. Looking into his eyes, I saw lust and passion, but
most of all pure love. All for me. I knew my purpose and my path at last.

It was
so…right, was the only word that came to mind. I wrapped my legs around his
waist and thrust forward to drive him more deeply into me. I lost track of what
he was doing when the last orgasm came, wave after wave of spasms that rolled
my eyes back in my head and drove all thought from my mind except the word
‘yes’, echoing in my brain with each thrust he gave me. I don’t know whether I
said it aloud.

The orgasm
waned, and then came on again as he gave a strangled groan and emptied himself
into me and then slumped to cover me with his body. He started to roll to the
side, but I wanted his weight on me, so with hands and murmurs of protest, I
stilled his movement.

“Don’t let me
go, Russ.” My voice sounded small, needy, and I didn’t care. He was my rock, my
protector, my man...the father of my baby. My everything.

“Never,
Kitten.”

My last
thought before going to sleep was that I’d make sure he never wore a condom
with me again. The sensation of his hot seed filling me was too precious, too
wonderful, to miss.

§

The following
morning, we enjoyed a room service breakfast while I finally brought up the
question I hadn’t yet asked him. “Russ, what have you decided about the girls?”

He looked at
me in surprise, then realized that a month had passed since we spoke. “They’re
at the house. Janet’s in seventh heaven, feeding all of them and the kids. The
place has been a zoo since you left.”

Delighted, I
clapped my hands over my mouth and squealed with glee. “Oh, Russ, thank you!
You’re the most generous man I ever met, and have I mentioned that I love you?”

“Why no, I
don’t believe you have,” Russ laughed, as I launched into his lap and began
planting kisses all over his face.

“Well, I do,”
I said, biting his nose for good measure.

“Ow! Show a
little respect, woman!” But he was smiling, and when I tried to get up, I was
trapped in his arms.

My clean
clothes were delivered an hour later, making it easier for me to leave the room
where I had been cocooned since leaving Mom’s house the day before. Russ
insisted on taking me to buy maternity clothes, though it would be a couple of
months before I’d need them. I let him pamper me only because it gave him such
pleasure, not only to buy things for me, but to be bossy about what I’d wear.

Clothes had
never interested me much, especially after arriving in Bethel City where the
standard prairie-style long dress was all young girls were allowed to wear. I
was equally disinterested in hairstyles and makeup, though I wanted to look pretty
for Russ.

He loved my
long unruly curls, and claimed I needed no makeup, but I did experiment that
morning by putting my hair up in a style that the other girls in the community
and I had played around with while I was there. Of course, we didn’t ever
appear in public with a different style. It was expected that we’d sweep our
hair up from the sides and back from the brow, push it forward into a little
pompadour, clip it there and then braid it in one long thick French braid,
culminating in the pigtail hanging down our backs.

As much as our
polygamist sects wanted to maintain a low profile, I always wondered why the
Prophet insisted on clothing and a hairstyle that marked us as polygs. Now I pulled
it into a ponytail on top of my head and wound it around in a high bun. Russ
took one look and pulled it out.

“That makes
you look forty years old,” he complained. I asked him then if we could go to a
salon and have it cut and styled, so it wouldn’t always be flying around my
head, unless he would let me braid it or pull it back into a ponytail. He said
he wanted to think about it.

“Are you ever
going to let me make my own decisions?” I asked, a bit miffed at the refusal to
take me to get my hair cut.