Southern Seduction [Bride Train 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (16 page)

“Your pappy was like mine,” said Casey after a moment. “He tried to make everybody be what he wanted, and nothin’ more.”

Casey rose with an inner grace. Marshall admired the sway of her hips as she walked to the stove. How did the daughter of a vicious backwoods deadbeat learn to move like that? She kept her back to him as she filled an ewer with hot water from the stove reservoir.

Though his father never struck out in anger, he was no better than Casey’s Pappy. Worse, in fact, because his wealthy father hid his base nature behind a mask of propriety.

“I want a home where children can enjoy playing,” said Marshall. He spoke up to make sure she heard him. “I want smiles and hugs and laughter. I want my family to have everything my mother wanted to give us but was forbidden.” She stood still, listening, he hoped. “Mostly, I want my family to be happy.”

He shifted to see her better. A shot of pain hit him in the leg. He lay back with a grunt. She set the ewer aside and turned.

“What’s that got to do with needles?”

“My father drugged my mother with morphine.” Grandpa Marshall knew that, but none of his cousins did. “He made me watch as he injected it into her, as a lesson to be quiet. I hated to watch, but worse was how she’d sit in her chair, looking beautiful but lifeless. I had nightmares he’d killed her yet kept her body alive somehow.”

“Seeing the needles going in your mama got you scared of them?”

“Yes, but there’s more,” he said. “It was so quiet in the house, like a tomb. After this went on for a while I had to make noise and run to prove I was alive, that I hadn’t turned into a walking corpse like my mother.”

“Your pappy didn’t like it.”

Marshall shook his head and snorted a sarcastic laugh. “I heard the servants talking about my cousins Cole and Byron living with our grandparents. I thought if I could make enough noise and trouble, Father would send me to join them. By then I was almost twelve.”

“That when ye grandpa took ye in?”

“No,” he said. His throat tightened as if trying to hold back his words. But he wanted to tell Casey why a grown man was afraid of something so trivial.

“One night my father had important guests arriving. I was to join them for dinner and be on my best behavior. Father was worried about me speaking up or something. He decided to make sure I didn’t. His servants grabbed me and held me down while he stuck that needle in me. He hadn’t sharpened it right and it ripped a hole. Blood went all over.”

“That’s horrid!”

“No, the worst was that he used the same dose as for my mother. It was too much.”

Marshall’s muscles tightened in memory. He’d fought as hard as he could to escape. They’d stuck a handkerchief in his mouth so he couldn’t scream. One man sat on his legs and the other on his chest while his father injected him. He still hated to be held down.

“A couple of minutes after they let me up, I felt sick and dizzy. My heart beat so fast I thought it would blow up. I couldn’t breathe. I felt cold and clammy, then I passed out. I found out later that my father was forced to call the doctor. When he went to greet his special guest, my mother told the doctor what happened, and why. The doctor told my father to send me to my grandparents. I’ve been with Cole and Byron ever since.”

And thank God for that. No, thank Grandpa for wanting him. No one else did. He exhaled, letting the memory go. It felt good to finally tell someone. But the relief brought back the pain in his thigh and a reminder of what was going to happen next. It was ridiculous for a grown man to fear a woman sewing up a wound. But an adult couldn’t rationalize a child’s terror. He needed something to distract him.

“This will hurt,” said Casey, frowning. “You need lots of stitches.”

He tried for a flirtatious smile and failed. “I don’t mind the pain, Casey. It’s the fear of becoming a walking corpse. But I trust you to sew me up.” He flicked his eyes down her body. “I’ll be looking at something other than your hands.”

“You’re right about my dress,” she softly replied. A flush rose from her neck. “I don’t want to get it all bloody.”

By the time his eyes focused on her fingers, they were toying with the button at her breastbone. His cock rose to salute her effort. The triangle of flesh at her neck grew wider as each button lost the battle. He gulped. Was she wearing anything underneath?

 

* * * *

 

Casey absorbed the heat of Marshall’s eyes. Byron had got her all hot and achy with kisses, and now Marshall wanted to see her naked. He couldn’t run away while lying on his back. She had him in her power and she was going to get what she wanted. He lay on the floor, eyes wide and mouth gaping, while she undid every button. His eyes didn’t waver from her fingers, but she looked him all over.

The blood covering most of his right side didn’t bother her. It was like dirt, easy to wash off skin but difficult to remove from clothing. She would have changed into her old clothes if it was Cole, but this was Marshall. He wanted her, and this gave her the perfect opportunity to seduce him.

She turned her back, slipped off her top and draped it on the table. From this direction he couldn’t see her breasts. She touched one. It was swollen, almost hard. She looked at him over her shoulder. His cock stood up like a pine tree, strong and thick. It wasn’t as thick as that carrot or as long, but it was alive.

He was up on his elbows again, staring at her. She toyed with her skirt button, swaying gently from side to side. The motion showed him the curve of her breast. Then she dropped her skirt in a heap on her toes.

“Oh, God! Casey, you’re even more beautiful than I imagined.” He groaned. “What a peach of an ass.”

She trembled at his words. This was the first time she’d chosen to show herself to a man. One had spied on her while she bathed in the creek when she was seventeen. Willy, guarding her, bashed his head with a pickax handle. He showed up again weeks later so she knew he didn’t die, but he stayed far away.

She looked down. She wasn’t much to look at. Short, with small breasts and hips. Nothing like the big women Pappy and his friends brought home. A quick glance proved that Marshall didn’t mind at all. He lay on the floor, staring at her with one hand on his cock. Her pussy hummed. She touched herself between her legs, just with a tip of a finger so he couldn’t see. She was wet and slippery. He liked her bottom, so she wanted to show him more of it. Facing away, she bent over and picked up her skirt. Marshall choked.

“Sugar, do you have any idea what that does to a man?”

Chapter 14

 

Marshall groaned, more in need than pain.

Her feet were far enough apart that he glimpsed swollen pink folds when she bent over. They glistened below a tight bud of an asshole. How could he have thought those perfect ass cheeks belonged to a boy? She folded her skirt and placed it on the table. A moment’s hesitation, then she turned around.

Her blush started at her pussy and went all the way to her forehead. Her breasts were just the right size, with large, hard nipples. Raspberry, or more like a cherry?

She walked over, breasts swaying, and knelt beside him. The aroma of her arousal filled his nostrils more than the coppery scent of his blood. She washed him, starting at his ankle and working up. The rough cloth felt like silk when she held it. His head buzzed. Whatever blood hadn’t leaked out of his leg pooled in his groin. Usually it hurt to have hot water poured in a wound but he never felt it. He was too busy imagining licking her from top to tail. Her muscles flexed, and her breasts flowed as she bent and moved. Sheer heaven.

Though breathing was difficult, he kept his mouth shut. There was no way in hell he was going to do or say anything that might make her stop. She was quick and efficient, and her fingers aroused him like nothing before. She emptied the pan a couple of times, refilling it with clean, hot water.

Then she gathered her needle and thread. In spite of the vision of loveliness, he tensed up, all but his suddenly drooping cock. He stared at the needle. It looked as if it was as long as his hand.

“I’m going to hafta get close to do this,” she said.

She knelt with his right leg between her knees. The curls between her thighs almost touched him as she moved. The horrific needle of his mind’s imagination shrunk to its actual size, fitting her small fingers.

“You’re lucky you got a cut and not a poke,” she said. “Deep ones are hard to clean and their fevers can kill.”

She made sure there was a knot in the needle, then she leaned forward to sew. She was close enough that he could run his hand over her skin. Could, but wouldn’t. Not until she finished. And by then she likely wouldn’t want him to touch her.

“If you promise to always sew me up dressed like this, I might get hurt more often,” he said. She jabbed the needle into him. Focused on her breasts, he hadn’t seen it coming. “Ow! Fine, I’ll shut up,” he grumbled.

“Good. I work best that way.”

As she worked the tip of her tongue poked between her lips, just like a clit. The swollen mounds of her breasts brushed against his leg. Her nipples crinkled, raspberry red. Did he dare hold his cock? He could say he was keeping it out of the way.

“I’m gonna keep this out of your way,” he said, lifting his cock. “Don’t want you accidentally poking it.”

“Anything I hurt, I’ll kiss better.”

He choked. She jabbed him again, restarting his lungs. Cole and Byron wouldn’t be home for a while. He had Casey all to himself. They were already naked. If there was ever a time to have some fun without interruption, this was it.

“You mean, you might kiss my cock?” He cleared his throat, which brought down his voice an octave. “Just want to understand what you meant.”

She concentrated on tying a knot. Halfway done.

“Yep, but you’d have to kiss me first.”

He gulped. “You really mean what I’m thinkin’ you said?”

Her face flushed even more. She took two more stitches before answering. He watched, waiting for her answer and not caring what else was going on.

“You said you’d show me what your mouth and fingers could do for my pussy. Are you up to it, or are you crippled from this here scratch?”

Once his bloodless brain figured out what she’d said and ran it past twice just in case, he dropped his jaw. Then he smiled.

“Sugar, I am not just gonna make your pussy purr. I’m gonna make it scream my name!”

“Don’t know what that means,” she muttered, “but I’ll trust you.”

She’d trust him? Hallelujah! If he’d known getting gored by a mad cow would make her trust him, much less let him touch her, he’d have done it days ago.

He waited impatiently while she bandaged him. She handed him his stick again, letting him use her shoulder to help him up. He didn’t take advantage of his free hand and her nakedness while she helped him into bed. He could wait another two minutes. Maybe.

But the process of hauling himself into bed damn near wore him out. She carefully lifted his bandaged leg, supporting it while he shifted to the center of the mattress.

“You’ll have to lie still for a couple days,” she said. Her concerned expression, eyebrows drawn, softened. Her blush returned. “Can you do what you said if you’re lying down?”

His exhaustion evaporated. He winked and crooked his finger. She gulped. Dang, her nipples crinkled as he watched! She bit her lip, suddenly hesitant.

“You’ll be on top. You can climb off anytime you want.” He patted his chest. “Sit right here, facing me.”

It took some coaxing—she didn’t want to smother him—but she finally settled with her knees past his ears. He rested his hands on her hips. Not to hold, but to steady. He looked up, past her belly and ribs, past her swollen breasts, all the way to her full lips, again being punctured by her top teeth. Then he met her uncertain eyes.

He watched her carefully as he drew his knuckles over her pussy. She swallowed hard. He gently circled her clit, lightly grinding her pubic bone. She gave a hint of a moan and dropped down an inch. He could almost reach her with his tongue, but not quite. He teased her again, tracing his way between her wet lips with a finger. She shivered and dropped even closer.

“Lean forward. Maybe you can hold the headboard.”

That brought her clit right where he wanted it. He inhaled her scent deep into his lungs. There was something so earthy, so right about knowing your woman this way. And there was no doubt that Casey was his woman.

He encouraged her to slide lower so her pussy rubbed his nose. She was wet, hot, and already panting. He tilted his head back, licking her from ass to clit. Her texture was like nothing he could describe. Thick and soft and sweet and wet, all at once. He flicked her clit with the tip of his tongue. She gasped and pressed her thighs against his cheeks. He did it again, and again, and again. She shuddered.

He reached under with his fingers and probed into her pussy, very gently. Yes, there was a barrier, but only on one side. Still, it was there. And it would remain. For now.

Casey shivered as he drew his fingers along her perineum. Every part of her was sensitive and eager. He collected her fluid, drawing it up and back. He circled her tight asshole with his little finger. She arched her back, pushing her pussy onto his tongue and her ass onto his finger. Just to make sure she was asking for this he gathered fluid on his pointed finger and slowly skewed it into her. She sank back, silently asking for more.

“Oh, sugar, take what you need,” he murmured.

He rewarded her for accepting his finger to the knuckle by tugging on her pussy lips with his mouth, then flicking his tongue over her clit. When he backed off to catch his breath, he noticed hers was just as rough. This time when he probed her pussy with his tongue, she clenched around it. She twitched with every touch, making soft sounds in the back of her throat.

Was she going to have an orgasm just from this?

Marshall sent his finger just a bit deeper before dragging it almost out. At the same time he suckled her clit, flicking his tongue. She whimpered, grinding herself onto him. He was ready to explode, but Casey came first. She had a tight hold on his finger and shuddered as he pressed into her again. He slowly increased his speed, finger in and out of her ass while his mouth and tongue played with her pussy and clit.

Other books

Dancer by Clark, Emma
Noble Conflict by Malorie Blackman
Death Row Breakout by Edward Bunker
The Outlaw's Obsession by Jenika Snow
Adrenaline by Bill Eidson
Tug by K. J. Bell
Prototype by Brian Hodge
Offspring by Steven Harper
The Girl in the Glass by Susan Meissner
The Race for God by Brian Herbert