Hell's Belle (15 page)

And she'd passed
his first test, instinctively following wherever he led without seeming
awareness she was doing it. He'd gotten her from outside into the house, then
into the bedroom, half undressed, and onto the bed. Now she desperately
clutched at her inner fears, but it was too late. It was simply a matter of
proving those fears were mostly groundless. Mostly. But he would have to hurt
her, just this once.

He wouldn't ride
her hard…but he
would
ride her long. Because to his mind, another big
mistake would be backing off shortly after initiation. That would leave her
focusing on the blood and pain. No, he wasn't going to leave it at "the
deed's done."

He'd told Sandy to
keep the men clear of the ranch house for the rest of that day and clear
through the next. Any man caught trying to peep into its windows risked having
his precious parts blown to smithereens by Del's rifle.

Course, there
weren't any bullets in it as a rule, but the men didn't know that. Del recalled
the few times his men had witnessed him shoot the thing. Their whistles of
astonishment. Del was good with a long gun…something he proved just often
enough to keep the fact burned into everyone's minds. No one on his spread
doubted his authority to enforce whatever rule he laid down.

So poor Twila couldn't
hope for any interruptions to spoil the fun. Even Biscuit had been instructed
to leave a tray of food out on the porch. Yeah, they were going to have a
fiesta, all right.

"Stop struggling,
honey," Del cooed in the same calming tone he used with restless ponies.
"Easy now."

"You're
frightening me," she panted, eyes wide.

He feigned total
incomprehension. "For pity's sake, how? I'm just kissing you. Lying here
with my arms around you. You've been in my arms and drunk my kisses
before."

"Aha! You see,
that's what I mean! 'Drunk.' What kind of thing is that to say?"

"Only the
God's honest truth, Mrs. Mitchell. I distinctly remember showing you exactly how
attracted and eager I felt just before we knocked on his door and roused that
preacher in Reno. I remember kissing you after he spoke the words over us. That
was no sweet peck. I
kissed
you, man to woman. You didn't seem to mind.
In fact, I nearly gagged, with your tongue so far down my throat."

"It was
not!"

He just laughed.
"I liked it, honey. And there's more I like." Even as he was
cajoling, his fingers were busy, undoing buttons on her blouse.

"This is not
at all proper," she sniffed, trying to hold the fabric together that her
unfastened buttons had just released.

Del rolled a bit
away from her. "I see we got a couple of areas we need to clear up. My
fault. I should've made some things plain before we took those vows. One, I
don't want you to be afraid to ask what pleases me, or tell me what pleasures
you. Not when we're alone together like this. And two, anything we do in this
room is completely, unarguably
proper
. That was the point in having the
Almighty sanction our union. Are you saying you don't believe we truly got
God's blessing?"

She narrowed her
eyes, sensing the trap. Too bad. He'd slipped the bridle in place. Now all he
had to do was get her to take the bit and adjust to the feel of him holding her
reins.

"You're trying
to confuse me," she accused.

He chuckled again,
shaking his head. "I'm trying to make love to you."

Her eyes went from
accusatory to almost wounded. He could swear he saw a sheen of tears form. She
clutched the edges of her blouse all the tighter.

"Twila? What's
come over you? You know I had to expect…we're
married
now."

"I thought in
order to make love to someone, you had to feel it."

Well, hell. Bucked
off, and a solid whack against the paddock fence. He sat up and sighed.
"You can't expect that. Not under the circumstances. That's not fair,
Twila. Maybe you're not going to be the wife I hoped for, after all."

He wasn't really as
upset or dejected as he put on, but he moved away, sitting on the far edge of
the mattress, bare feet on the floor as if he meant to get up and leave. He
felt the mattress shift, then her arm slipped around his neck from behind.
"I don't know how to be what you want, Del," she murmured. There was
something like a sob. "I've never had to be anything but a burden, and
that was easy. I just seemed to breathe and people—"

He spun and pinned her
once more, with a hand over her lips. "I don't want to hear you say things
like that ever again, Twila Mitchell." He took his hand away and glared
down at her. The expression in her golden eyes could have been terror, anger…he
didn't know what she was feeling. But her breasts were rising and falling at a
pretty good clip…and she had followed him yet again, actually put her arm
around him this time. Pretty much like when he turned his back on a colt and it
nudged with its nose. She wanted to maintain contact, no matter what she said.

"How about if
we don't talk for a bit? Find our way without all the thinking and talking, all
right? Just let me touch you and kiss you. Touch me. That's what I was going to
ask you to do before. I'd really like to feel your hands cupping my face."

When she placed a
palm against his cheek, he nuzzled and burrowed his face against it. When the
other dainty palm moved to frame his face, he dropped his head and placed a
kiss on her collarbone. "That feels like heaven. Just let me do a couple
things here while you do that. It feels so unbelievably
good
,
Twila."

And Christ, but it
did
.
Her hands massaged his face, moved up to his temples and into his hair. Exactly
where he wanted them when he yanked her chemise aside and captured a nipple in
his mouth. She gasped—as he'd anticipated—but he didn't let on he'd heard it.
Just started a slow suckling. And as he'd guessed, her hands began doing a bit
more than rubbing his scalp. They began directing his head. From one side to
the next, in closer.

"Oh! Oh, Del,
did I pull your hair?"

She'd yanked out a
couple dozen of them, but right now he was so damned randy, he'd let her pluck
him bald before he'd stop the onslaught. "Doesn't hurt, honey. You just
keep showing me where you want me to—"

She'd tugged his
head down and lifted her belly up. Suddenly his face was buried right there,
with that pretty little navel of hers just ready for reaming with the tip of
his tongue. He obliged and kept moving lower, warily, expecting that any second
she'd let out a shocked gasp of outrage. But he didn't get one. Just more
whimpering and moaning, her hands gripping his shoulders, her legs thrashing…

"We got to
take everything off," he panted. He couldn't wait another second to get to
that crucial moment. He yanked off his pants and drawers, pleased to see she'd
obediently shucked her blouse and chemise. She sat in the middle of his bed,
stark naked, hands over her breasts, eyes wide with fear.

"Three,"
he panted, feeling her gaze drop to the obviously most interesting new thing in
the room. "You don't need to do that." He pointed at her, at how she
was covering up. "I've already tasted and seen. Remember where I said your
place was?" She nodded, reluctantly moving her hands from covering herself
and slowly stretching out on the mattress, eyes screwed shut.

She was a banquet.
Russet locks spilling across his pillows and mattress, tight little body with
its beaded breasts, half quivering with anticipation. And her thatch was
reddish, too. Swollen with arousal. A man would have to be dead not to be hot
as hell just looking at the feast waiting there on that mattress. A cowboy
naturally thought of mounting and riding…but he knew that kind of move would be
a big mistake.

So he put one knee
on the bed, and then the other. He stretched next to her, began stroking her
belly with his hand, murmuring softly to her, bending to kiss one tight nipple
until he felt her relax and start to give in to the pleasure. Ten minutes
later, she'd spread her legs and was whimpering, silently begging for the ride
that would change their lives.

That's when he
mounted, and as she bucked in the natural way of a pony who'd never been to
bit, he tore her maidenhead. "
Del
!"

It was more
accusation than surprise. "Ssh, I'm sorry, Twila. I know I'm big and it
hurts. But just this once, sweetheart. I promise it won't ever hurt again. Try
not to think about that part. Try not to think at all. Just feel right now.
Close your eyes and feel, honey."

And Del plied her
with every delight he'd ever tested on a whore. He licked and kissed and
suckled—at first with her just pinned under him by the staff that had impaled
her. And as he'd hoped, she began riding his shaft just a little, grinding her
hips as he toyed with her and kissed her. "Oh…oh, it's…oh,
Del
!"
This time it wasn't accusation, but discovery. And that was the moment he knew
he truly had her. She'd taken the bit, was ready to gallop and fly.

"That's right,
Twila. Damned right. Now we're going to roll over here," he grunted,
wrapping his arms around her waist and spinning their locked bodies until she
was on top. She opened her eyes, looking down at him in surprise and wonder.
"It's up to you now, Twilagleam. Dig your knees into the mattress. We got
a distance, going to take a jump."

He wasn't even able
to form words any longer. Every pant now was just to feed his muscles as he
began thrusting in earnest. And Twila? She had those knees dug in like he'd
told her. Had her arms wrapped around his neck. She clung to him like she was
riding bareback for her life, being chased by a whole tribe of Indians. He
grabbed hold of her bottom with both hands and reached for the ceiling.
Thrusting, pushing, crazed beyond anything he'd felt before, her moans keeping
time with his panting and grunting until—

He couldn't get his
breath. Neither could she. For several minutes, there was nothing but sweat and
hard breathing…and then he felt them, warm, trickling along his neck and
shoulder. "I'm sorry, honey." He was afraid she'd want to pull away,
hide from him and the shame of what they'd done…because by now he knew Twila
well enough to sense she hadn't really understood what it was between a man and
woman. And especially a gal's first time, there was mess and discomfort. It
wasn't pretty. But he wouldn't let her go.

Couldn't stomach
the thought of her slinking off or looking at him like he was some monster. He
tightened his arms around her waist. Not in a commanding, forceful way. Just
slid them easy, going for warm reassurance. "I guess it wasn't what you
thought," he whispered. He flexed himself, deep inside her. "But you
got to admit, that was pretty remarkable and we fit damned good together.
You're going to make an even better wife than I could have asked for,
Twila."

She cut loose a sob
and clung to him, crying her heart out. Finally he'd gone flaccid enough to
pull out, pour some water into the wash basin and find a towel. She let out a
horrified little shriek when she saw what he intended and buried her face in
the pillows…but she let him gently clean her up.

And more
importantly, she let him pull a quilt over both of them and draw her back into
his arms. He gently ran his index finger around a nipple. "I hope it
wasn't too awful for you. Gal's first time is usually a little rough. But—"

She shut him up
with an open-mouthed kiss, even as she wriggled, placing his full palm over her
breast. The kiss was long and slow and hotter than hell. When it was over, he
found her eyes open and searching his. "So you're not mad at me?" he
asked solemnly. The time for games and hints of amusement was long past. Twila
looked deadly earnest, a little confused, and he wasn't feeling all that
jocular himself.

"I didn't
know…I—I…"

"You need to
rest. So do I. Never got much sleep last night. But remember what I told you?
It's all natural and blessed. It's all right to tell me what you like and
don't. It's all right to ask me for something…you know, if there's…" He
felt like an idiot. Settled for rubbing her breast with his palm, teasing its
nipple just a bit. And judging by how quickly it puckered right up, he knew
what she was having trouble saying.

"Twila? Do you
need to talk about things? I told you just to hush before, and things went
pretty…God, I can't dress it up for you. You're a fine fuck, lady. I've never
had better. And if you're wondering how I feel or what I think, I think you'll
play hell ever getting me to leave you be." He swallowed. "You were
made for this, honey."

The most bizarre
thing happened. Twila broke into the widest smile he'd ever seen her give him.
"So I'm not cursed?"

"
Cursed
?
We've been all over that. Your cousin just used people's superstitions to build
up a whole big fat lie. There's never been—"

"No, I mean
because it was so…I
like
it, very much. You touching me. It hurt at
first like you said, but then it…I felt like…almost like the '
bombs bursting
in air
' part of the song, Del!"

He guffawed. One
belly laugh followed the other. He was half afraid he'd offended her, but she
cheerfully erupted in glee herself. To think he'd been so worried, thinking
she'd be all wounded, or maybe offended. Del laughed until he cried, until his
gut was sore and Twila seemed all chuckled out herself.