In the Marshal's Arms (5 page)

Then she softened and he raised his head to watch her face as she came, her expression ethereal as she closed her eyes and tilted her head back, her hands falling to her sides.

She was still quivering when he shifted to kneel between her legs and pushed his cock against her slick flesh. She opened for him, so small and hot, he had to grab for every piece of restraint he had to keep from ejaculating as her sex clasped him.

“Tight. God, tight.” He clenched his jaw and pushed deeper.

She let her legs fall open so his groin pressed against her pussy, and she moaned, shifting her hips up so he fit fully against her. And then he began to move. To his surprise, she locked her feet around his ass and moved into him, her rhythm erratic and needy. He tried to still her with his hands on her hips, striving for some kind of control as he drove into her hot, wet channel, but she wriggled, whimpering.

“Let me—” He tried to angle her.

“I need—” She slid her hand down his chest, her fingers playing in the curls at his groin before turning and—

His balls drew up, his lust taking over as he felt her stroke her pussy, fingers flicking fast over the swollen nub. Never had he known a woman to do that. He stilled and rose on his arms to watch her touch herself, to feel her squeeze around him. And then, with another flood of wetness that enveloped him, she came, hips pumping, fingers playing, cunt milking him. He drew back and pounded into her heat, mindless with the need to feel every inch of her.

And then, in hot pulses, he came too, the orgasm seeming to come from the back of his head to the tips of his toes, filling her with his seed, hearing her moan in approval.

He stayed deep inside for a long moment, the hot wetness still so welcoming, before he dropped to his side. On impulse, he picked up her hand from where it rested on her heaving belly, and brought it to his lips.  He kissed the backs of her fingers, then one at a time, drew them into his mouth, licking her juices from her. She watched him, her eyes dark, and he waited to see regret, to feel it himself, but the feeling didn’t come.

“Not precisely the way I imagined we’d warm up,” she murmured.

“Really? Happened just like I dreamed.”

She laughed and sat up, eyeing her clothes. “It’s too cold not to get dressed,” she lamented.

“Why get dressed?”

“Because there’s coffee and dinner.”

“We’ll have it in bed. You stay here.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he covered it with a kiss. He rolled out of bed, pulled on his pants and shirt, though he didn’t bother to button either. He crossed to the stove.

“Wash your hands,” she called from the bed.

He looked back to see her sitting up, shoulders bare above the stacks of blankets, her hair a mess. He hadn’t even bothered to take her hair down and feel it in his hands.

“I usually take more time,” he said as he poured the coffee into matching tin cups, then carried one to her.

“You can take more time later.”

His cock jumped at the invitation, in anticipation of devouring every inch of her lush body. He was aware his cock was making the decisions here, probably bad ones. But he couldn’t help himself.

She took the coffee from him and sipped, then made a face. “A little burned.”

“I can make more if you like.”

She shook her head. “Maybe later.”

Within a few minutes, he’d spooned up their dinner and brought it to bed, and climbed back underneath the blankets. He hadn’t thought his feet could get so cold being out of bed for such a short time, and he slid them toward the warmth of Maddy’s body.

She jerked her legs away with a squeak, holding her coffee and stew up high so she didn’t spill them. “Get the bricks if you want to warm your feet.”

He grunted. “Don’t want to get back out of bed.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Then keep your cold feet away from me.”

“You were so good about warming me up before,” he teased, surprising himself with his own lightheartedness. When was the last time he’d teased anyone?

“Yes, well, that was mutual,” she retorted saucily.

He chuckled and dug into his stew. He’d never eaten in bed with a woman before, never even considered it. But with his feet thawed and his belly filled and warmed, he couldn’t imagine himself anyplace else.

“I’ll get the dishes,” she said when they were done.

“You’re still not dressed. I’ll do it. And I’ll bring the bricks this time.”

The cabin hadn’t warmed up much, so it must be damned cold outside. He placed the bowls and cups in the sink and rinsed them with her pump as she instructed, then collected the hot bricks she’d set by the fire, wrapped them in cloth and carried them back to jam at the foot of the bed. He climbed back in, placed his feet against the heat, and found his arms full of luscious woman.

“Did the meal restore your strength?” she asked with a bat of her eyelashes.

His cock had been half-hard since their meal. “I believe it did.”

She gripped the opening of his shirt and pushed it down his shoulders. “Good.”

She captured his mouth with hers and lifted herself over him, pushing him back on the bed.

“One thing,” he managed, and reached up to pull the pins from her hair, tossing them to the floor beside the bed. Her hair fell in a heavy mass around her shoulders, the deep color contrasting with her pale skin. He threaded his fingers through it, the calluses of his hands snagging on the silky waves.

She allowed his attention for a short time before she bent to brush kisses along his jaw, then his throat.

“So rough,” she murmured.

“I bought shaving supplies.” Her bare pussy rested over the open fly of his pants, and he wanted to push up, push into her, but she seemed to have an agenda.

“Doesn’t matter. I like it.” She nipped the flesh of his throat with her teeth, then continued downward, fingers spearing through the hair of his chest, rubbing up and down.

He watched her face as she moved to touch his nipple with her tongue, and he flinched at the strange sensation. Did it feel like that for her? But she didn’t linger, her hair trailing across his chest as she kissed his belly. Her breast brushed against his erection, now painfully hard, and when he gasped, she shifted so his cock rode in the cleft between her breasts. She looked up at him, eyes dancing wickedly, and pressed a kiss to his navel.

“Maddy,” he managed, then his mind went blank as she opened her mouth over the head of his cock and drew him deep. He was awash with sensation as her tongue glided down the underside of his length, as her lips closed softly around his girth, sucking gently. She lowered her head and he watched more of his cock disappear between those pretty lips. Her eyes drifted closed as if she was savoring the tastiest of treats. She rose to circle her tongue around the rim of his cock, teasing the tender flesh at the base of the head before she took him deeper. The tip of his penis tapped the back of her throat. She hummed a breath around him, then he pressed farther into her mouth, into her throat, and her lips closed around the base of him, her fingers cupping his balls.

He shouted her name again, his hand tangling in the hair at the back of her head as he struggled not to pump into her mouth.

Slowly she lifted her head, dragging her lips and tongue along his length as she did so.

“Do you want me to finish?” she asked, her voice sultry, her hair pooled in his lap, her lips swollen with her ministrations.

Knowing it was selfish, but needing to know what it would be like to come in her mouth, he nodded shortly. She smiled and settled between his legs so her breasts rubbed his thighs. She lifted his balls in her hand and gave them long, suckling kisses before she turned her attention back to his aching cock. She held his gaze as she nibbled on the tender head, then laved it with her tongue. Her eyes drifted shut again as she closed her mouth around him and did her damnedest to swallow him, tongue working, the muscles of her throat clasping. God, so wet, so hot, so erotic.

The orgasm had him trembling beneath her before his balls contracted and he erupted in her mouth. With her hands and lips she pumped his cock until every last drop was gone. Then she rested her cheek on his thigh and looked up at him, her eyes still dark with desire.

“That was—thank you,” he managed.

She pushed herself up the bed to lie beside him, and brought his hand to her breast. He thumbed her nipple to a peak and she murmured her approval, then shifted, offering her breast to his mouth. He took the invitation, drawing the tender flesh between his lips. She pushed closer, and he opened his mouth wider, taking more of her in, sucking harder until she moaned her approval. Then she took his hand and placed it over her cunt.

Christ, she was wet, aroused from his own pleasure. He wished he could recover enough to plunge deep inside her, but instead he slipped his finger into her, one, then two, then three, sliding in and out, stretching her. Her hand moved from the back of his to her pussy, stroking above her opening, working the little nub, each caress making her channel wetter and wetter, until her juices coated his hand. Her muscles fluttered around his knuckles, then closed on him as her hips bucked on the bed, bringing his fingers deeper, grinding against him as she keened her pleasure.

Her hand fell to the mattress and he slid his fingers from her body to fold them through hers, and he stretched out beside her on the bed. She laughed and lifted her free hand to stroke his hair from his face. She cupped his cheek and kissed him, then turned into him and promptly fell asleep.

Chapter Four

Maddy stretched out on the bed, twinges reminding her of the decadent way she and Rhys had warmed up after their trip into town. She should feel ashamed, should be guilty for reveling in his touch, in his kisses, in his lovemaking.

She reached across the bed, then lifted her head when she felt the coolness of the sheets. The cabin was brighter, but the day was overcast. And Rhys was nowhere in sight. The fire burned brightly in the hearth, and she could see the stove was lit. She found her shift and dress in the tangle of blankets—had he added more overnight? She dressed as well as she could under the covers, then slipped out of bed. She looked out the window but didn’t see him, but he was likely seeing to the animals.

She’d make a good breakfast, though the hour was late.

The door opened while she was making the coffee, and she turned to watch him kick the snow off his boots, and hang his hat and coat by the door. He looked at the made bed and turned to the kitchen. A blush heated his cheeks before he gave her a shy smile.

“Snow stopped but it’s damned cold out there.”

“Coffee will be ready soon, and I’m making eggs and sausage. It won’t take long.”

He nodded and crowded into the kitchen with her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, pressing his cold nose into the side of her neck. She squealed and laughed, then turned into his arms and folded her arms around his neck. His lips were cold, but she warmed them quickly. She couldn’t believe she could heat up again so soon after last night, but when he drew her hips against his, arousal slid through her blood.

She drew back reluctantly. “You need your strength. Let me finish breakfast.”

After breakfast, she felt uneasy with him for the first time since she’d met him. The kitchen was clean, the food put away, and all she could think about was the bed.

He crossed the room to a package she hadn’t seen him bring in.

“I bought some books. I thought maybe we could read to each other. I wasn’t sure if you’d read these, but--”

She gripped his hand that held the two slim novels and read the titles. “I’ve read this one, but the other is new.”

“Let’s get under the blankets.”

“I have bricks by the fireplace,” she said, moving to retrieve them.

Moments later they were snuggled together under the blankets and the book was open in her hand. She was nervous reading to him, and was grateful when the chapter was over and she could hand the book over. He stumbled over the first few words and she wondered if he was nervous, too, but then he settled into a rhythm and she settled in next to him, letting his deep voice reverberate against her ear.

Rhys tucked the book aside and stroked the hair from Maddy’s face as she slept on his chest. She looked so peaceful and sweet. Guilt clutched at his chest. He should never have taken her to bed. He was here to do a job, not to seduce her, and he’d forgotten that. Twice. Even now his cock stirred. He couldn’t listen to it. He had to remember why he was here. She was a means to an end, not a means to ease his libido.

He’d never been completely ruled by his lust. There was always tenderness with every woman he’d bedded, and damned if he wasn’t feeling that tenderness now. He had to put some distance between them. She had been an outlaw’s mistress, but from what he could see, she had broken no laws. She didn’t deserve to be hurt, and she would be, when she learned who he was and why he was here.

He could tell her who he was and why he was here, and hope she didn’t kick him the hell out. But he couldn’t risk that. He needed to wait for Luke. He should be along soon, and Rhys would reveal himself, get his man, and be on his way.

He hated being cut off from the rest of the service, not knowing what was going on in the manhunt. He held out hope that someone else would round up Luke Colby, and Rhys would be free to ride off into the sunset. Maddy would never have to know the truth.

No, that was the coward’s way out. He couldn’t do that to her. But as soon as the weather warmed up, he needed to go back to sleeping in the barn and just be her hired man. That would make it easier for them both when the time came for him to leave.

He eased from beneath her, careful not to wake her, and slipped outside, hoping the cold air would cool his desire.

The blanket of clouds was breaking up and the sun was peeking through. Snow melted in patches where the sunbeams hit, but a clear sky meant a cold night. He wondered if the weather would bounce back. Hard to believe he’d been sweating on the roof just a few days ago.