Rocky Mountain Wild (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 6) (13 page)

“What are you doing?”

“Explaining why I married you.” He carried her to the table and set her on it. “Here,” he said with satisfaction, leaning over her only slightly, as now her head was closer to his height.

His hand brushed away her hair and his mouth came down again, finding her neck, kissing and sucking her tender skin until she thought she might go mad. His lips fastened on her tender skin and he sucked hard, and suddenly she felt like she would explode with desire.

“But you’re not talking,” she gasped.

“You’re not listening.” He undid the first few buttons of her dress with nimble fingers and tugged down her corset. He kissed down her chest, spending some time nuzzling at the peak of her breasts, drawing out her nipples, until she writhed against him, pressing herself to him, by the time he raised his head, her breasts were twin peaks of need.

“This is in the way,” he growled, pulling on her dress and corset. “No matter. I can breach your defenses another way.”

“Calum,” she half laughed, half cried, as he pushed up her skirts, rough hands catching on her skin. “I don’t understand.”

In one movement, he knelt and pulled her bottom to the edge of the table. She fell back to her elbows, staring down at her new husband’s head between her legs.

“My wee Phoebe,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “After this, you will.” And he buried his head under her skirts before she could protest.

After a few seconds of struggle, Phoebe forgot her complaint. She forgot everything, except the feel of Calum’s mouth, hot and wet on her center, his beard scratching her lightly, his tongue alternately sweeping and probing her most secret places.

The moans came from her unbidden, sensation curling through her, her hands gripped the edge of the table, her body straining towards something his tongue offered.

“Calum,” she groaned, asking for something, she didn’t even know what. Her legs started shaking, and a flush came over her, moving from her center over her entire body, until her whole body stiffened, and pleasure burst through her, stars exploding behind her eyes. She sagged backward, her head bumping the table with a loud noise, but no pain. Her limbs were limp, body sated and felt like it would be sated forever.

Her husband appeared from under her skirts, cheeks flushed, looking triumphant.

Her head lolled a little on the table. He wiped his mouth and chuckled.

Stooping, he lifted her, and carried her across the threshold to their bedroom, where he explained why he married her all over again.

*

Hours later, Phoebe lay languid and sated. She’d sung out, she’d seen stars, she nearly ripped locks of Calum’s hair out by the roots. He’d stripped her and run his hands all over her, following with scratchy kisses and sweet tongue. In the dim bedroom, swathed in silky furs, she shook apart over and over again, but her favorite was when her new husband took a break to curl his large body around hers. He whispered sweet things and played with her hair while she recovered. Then his hands would start sliding up and down her back and sides, coming to cup and tease her breasts, and the cycle would begin all over again.

Finally, she pulled him close, twining her arms around his neck and holding him close. His hands slid down her back and cupped her bottom, his two big hands covering the pale globes.

“Feel good, wee one?”

“Yes,” she sighed. “That felt wonderful.”

“Good. I’ve decided you need more pleasure. As your husband, it is my duty to ye, to keep you sweet.”

“I am sweet.” She stretched her neck and rubbed her forehead against his beard. “I’m your sweet Phoebe.”

“Yes, you are.”

He feathered his lips over her face. She closed her eyes and submitted to the tiny kisses, giggling when his bristles tickled her.

He pulled his head away and grinned at her. “Do you like my kisses, Phoebe?”

“Yes,” she whispered shyly.

“Good.” He wrapped large muscled arms around her. “I intend to give ye thousands. And get some in return.”

Wriggling around to face him, she pressed her lips against his. Slanting his head, he deepened the kiss, then broke it to rub his thumb against her lips.

“The day you kissed me, I thought I was breaking through. It took longer than I liked, but I knew my Phoebe would fly again.”

He clasped her again to his chest.

Slowly, Phoebe felt herself come down. Her body pressed against his was still needy. Her own fingers longed to explore. He was a big man, but well proportioned, the long muscles well formed from his labor. The sandy patch of hair on his great chest was softer than she’d expected, it tickled her bare body, reminding her she was naked with someone in bed for the first time in her life. Well, almost naked. He had stripped of his shirt but not his buckskin trousers. They were soft and new, made of the finest leather, but she found herself curious about what lay beneath them. Wiggling a little, she felt the front of his pants grow taut. From everything she’d heard about the ways between married couples, there was a thing between a man’s legs, and when it swelled, a man wanted nothing more than to rut inside a woman for a few minutes and then fall asleep. That’s usually why they chased after women and tried to get them into bed. Her new husband had taken a very different course, kissing her and putting his mouth on her, then cuddling her before doing it all over again. As welcome as it was, it was unexpected, and Phoebe wasn’t quite sure what to do.

“Calum?”

“Yes?”

“Aren’t you going to,” she squirmed. “Put your… thing in me?”

He shifted, his lips finding her ear. “At some point. Soon.” Her whole body focused on his, heavy and needy against hers, but he only adjusted his arms around her, giving her a squeeze. “Is this not nice?”

“It is nice,” she sighed. Of their own volition, her fingers snuck slowly down the hard plane of his stomach. He didn’t move, and his soft breath stirring her hair gave her courage. Slowly, her fingers ventured beyond the lip of his trousers, sliding between the leather and his warm skin. Calum sucked in a breath, and she grew bold, exploring the wiry bristle of hair between his legs. One searching finger found his warm member; it jerked a little as she touched it. Twitching her finger, she stroked its silky hardness.

In the dim light, she met her husband’s smoldering gaze. Without speaking, he reached down and undid his breeches, opening them enough so she could ease her hand inside and close the rest of her fingers around his thick member.

“What now?” she asked.

“Whatever you want,” he said in a strained voice. “It’s up to you.” She could tell he was holding himself back, body tense against hers.

“I want to make you feel good.” Her body, recipient of so much pleasure, wanted to share it with him.

“Kiss me then, Phoebe. Touch me. Be gentle.”

Closing her eyes she bent her head and let her lips go where they wanted, brushing over the skin of his collar bone, one hand smoothing over the planes and grooves of his muscles, while her other encircled his throbbing cock.

“Does that feel good?”

“Aye.” He moved his hips, grinding against her. “Do you want my cock?”

She should be afraid, but she wasn’t. “Yes.”

He dipped his head, groaning into her hair. “I want to go slowly with you, and savor it. But I fear when I have you beneath me, I will not be able to keep control.”

Meeting his grey eyes, she understood. He wanted her to feel safe with him, totally loved. “It’s all right.” She kissed him as he had her, with small, pecking touches of her lips on his face, wordlessly begging for him.

“Oh, Phoebe, I cannae say no to you.”

He pulled her into place under him, she lay on her back looking up at his great form. It was a position she’d been in most of the day, as he licked and sucked the junction between her legs. Now she smiled as he stripped off his trousers and freed himself. His member bounced, drawing her eye. It was long and strange looking, but he came at her, stroking it, a wild look on his face and she felt her body respond, clenching with excitement.

“It’s so big.”

“It’ll fit all inside you, but be tight.” His finger dipped into the cream of her center and slicked his member with it. He leaned over her, and she reached for his shoulders to pull him down over her, but he resisted. “I don’t want to hurt you.” His face was lined with strain.

At that moment, more than anything, she needed his weight on top of her, muscles straining against hers, his hair brushing over her supple skin, stimulating, claiming, rising with her to another level of pleasure.

“Please, Calum.” Her hands tugged on him, and with a ragged gasp, he guided himself between her legs. She felt the flared crown at her entrance and pushed her hips forward, inviting him. For a few seconds there was nothing but their strained breathing as he slid slowly into her, filling, she gripped the blankets and arched.

“Relax,” he said. “Give yourself over to me. Sweet Phoebe, you feel so good.”

Her fingers roamed over back, her nails lightly scoring the smooth granite of his back.

She waited until he was in to the hilt before taking a deep breath.

“I’m not hurting you?”

“No, it feels good.” She smiled up at him, her eyes fluttering. She felt good—full beyond full—but good. His everything was focused on her, and in that moment above any other, she understood what he meant when he said he would care for her. She felt small and safe, closer to this giant, powerful man who worshiped every inch of her than she’d ever been to another. They were in their own little world, the circle of their bodies creating a new land they could explore together.

She felt little flutters inside her right where his cock touched her. He must have felt them too, for he cursed with fierce happiness, then apologized.

“What now?” she asked and he gasped a laugh. Slowly his hips started to move, rocking gently.

She gripped his sides, hoping he would go faster, but he kept his thrusts easy and shallow. “Just for the first time.” It wasn’t long before he shuddered and spent himself.

“I liked that,” she told him. “It felt good.”

“Good.” He sagged over her, but even then he held his weight above her. He was so conscientious and gentle.

A part of her wanted to push him a little, and see what it would be like to have him lose control. Unleash a grizzly bear in the bed.

“I love ye, lass.” He put his face down on the pillow above her and groaned.

She was wet and sore, but satisfied.

“You did not find release.”

“It’s all right,” she assured him. He’d given her enough release.

“It will not happen again,” he vowed. He flopped to his side beside her, and then lifted his head with a frown. “Phoebe, why are you crying?”

The tears tracked down her cheeks; she couldn’t stop them. “You love me?”

“Oh, lass,” he crooned, touching her face with loving fingers. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked to marry you.”

“But, I thought…” Why would he want her?

“I knew from the moment I saw you it would be hard to keep from falling in love. Then you gave me a taste of your stubborn will, and I knew you would be mine.”

“You did?”

“I did. But you were a skittish wee bird, living in the thorns, and I had to go slowly.” He stroked her hair. “I know you’ve been hurt before.”

She decided to tell him the truth. “I never wanted a man to touch me. There were men, at the hotel, who tried to, and one of them…”

She broke off, not wanting to spell out the details of that horrible few minutes. Calum held her close until she could speak again. “It’s just so much better with you.”

“It will always be me, and no other. I’ll protect you, I swear.” She’d never seen him so fierce.

She nodded, and his expression turned tender. “Oh Phoebe, you break my heart.”

I’m happy,” she sniffled, and laughed at how pathetic she sounded. “I really am.”

“Good. I’ll see to it you stay that way. I swear it.”

*

If it weren’t for chores, Phoebe would’ve been afraid Calum would keep her in bed forever. But they had work to do. In the past week, they’d stripped the garden bare but for a few late season crops, filled the larder and stocked the woodpile. There was a chill in the air that heralded a long, hard winter, but, together, they’d be ready.

Their first full morning as man and wife, after a breakfast where he’d feasted on her once he was done eating proper food, Calum disappeared with Wolfie to check his traps.

He was a good man, Phoebe thought as she did the laundry. Her thoughts were still in a whirlwind after their sudden marriage. She still wasn’t sure what the likes of him was doing with the likes of her, but that cheerful, sunny morning, pulling the fur robes off their well-used bed and hanging them on the line to air, she was too happy to question it.

Like the bird that was her namesake, Phoebe sang through her chore, the tune just bubbling out of her. By the time she had all the clothes on the line, tossing in the stiff wind, her husband came striding out of the woods, a giant grin on his face. As soon as he set aside his catch, he pulled her into his arms.

“My wee Phoebe bird.” His lips drank of her.

“Mac!” A man’s voice called. Phoebe shrank behind the laundry, but Calum sauntered to greet the couple who rode up on horseback. The tall, dark-haired man she recognized from her trips to town, and the woman was blonde, with long blonde braids sticking out from under her bonnet. They dismounted and approached with huge smiles.

“Heard you’re now married.” The man slapped Calum’s back.

“I am.” Calum beckoned to Phoebe. “And here is my lovely bride.” Spreading her skirts subtly so they hid her limp, Phoebe went right to her new husband’s side and let him tuck her under his muscled arm. “Phoebe, this is Susannah and Jesse Wilder.”

“Thought we’d drop by and give you a wedding present. I wanted to wait, but Susannah insisted.”

The blonde handed Phoebe a package, and after a moment of hesitation, Phoebe opened it and drew out the spools of thread in a rainbow of colors.

“I would’ve made something, but Mrs. Martin says you’re a deft hand with the needle, so I figured I’d leave it to you. My stitches always need taking out. Jesse says I may as well stick to shooting.”