Southern Seduction [Bride Train 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (21 page)

“More!” she ordered.

He ground his groin against hers. “You asked for it, sweetheart.” He grabbed her hips, slid out, and then back in. Slow and deep, he stretched and retreated. Every time he filled her, he stroked something wonderful. But he moved so slow!

“Faster,” she said between moans.

“Not until you come,” he growled from between clenched teeth.

She released her grip and reached for her breasts. She opened her eyes, finding approval in his wild grin. She pinched her nipples, pulling on them as he watched. His nostrils flared and he sped up. She arched her back, encouraging him with gasps each time he hit bottom. She wrapped her legs around him, changing the angle of his thrusts. His cock hit something and she exploded.

He roared, slapping into her so fast that she could hear the bed slam against the wall even through her ecstasy. His orgasm hit, bringing her to another peak. She gasped, arching until his hips stopped pounding into her.

She looked up. His head drooped, hiding his face as he panted. She closed her eyes and relaxed with a contented smile.

* * * *

Cole watched Casey, his wife in all ways now, drift into sleep. He was still deep inside her. In a moment he’d pull out and clean them up. For now it was all he could do to keep his legs from collapsing. Sweat dripped off his face as he fought to breathe. He was as exhausted as if he’d run all the way to Bannack City.

Her tan lines made her skin all the more interesting. Because she wore a hat to hide her pixie face, it was fairly light. There was a tanned vee at her throat. Her hands and lower arms were brown, as were her feet to just above the ankle. In between she was soft and white with the occasional freckle.

Her breasts were big enough for him, yet easier for her to carry around. The angry red marks from binding them for so long had finally begun to fade. He reached out to trace a line but stopped before touching her. It would wake her, and he wanted this time.

He was a damn fool for thinking he could keep his hands off a woman like this. She was built for sex. His thick cock fit her pussy just right, though he’d have a time getting it in her ass. It might be a while until Byron and Marshall taught her to enjoy it, but he’d have his turn. They’d have a lifetime to try everything.

His cock stirred, eager for more. Why didn’t the thought of sharing Casey with his cousins make him jealous? Grandpa believed in taking care of his woman with everything he had. But the frontier was a hard place, on women and men. With three men to protect Casey and their family there was a better chance she and their children would survive. If he, or one of his cousins, was killed, Casey wouldn’t be at the mercy of whoever wanted to take the Sweetwater Ranch.

Still asleep, her lips curled up into a smile. Her nipples suddenly hardened. So did his cock. He gently rocked against her. Her mouth dropped open as she inhaled. The tip of her tongue protruded. Just like the way her clit stood up and demanded attention.

Was her mouth big enough to take his cock? She’d taken Marshall, and he wasn’t that much thicker. The thought of her lips stretched around him, bobbing up and down, made him groan. Too late, he remembered she slept. Her muscles clenched him hard. Or was she awake? He licked his finger and rubbed her clit, circling.

She gasped, her eyes flying open.

“Time for a bath, Mrs. Taylor,” he said. She clenched him again, making him hiss. He reluctantly pulled out. “We can try that again later.”

“Promise?” Sleepy hazel eyes gazed through from half-lowered lids.

“We’ve got all night, just the two of us. And I intend to make sure you don’t forget me.”

He pulled out and grabbed her ankles. Transferring both to his left hand, he lifted her ass. Perfect white cheeks waited for his brand. He smacked her once. She shrieked and jerked. By the way her hard nipples jutted out at him, she wasn’t hurt. His cock hardened as he watched his pink handprint appear.

“What was that for?” she demanded, still struggling.

“Just making sure you know who’s boss.”

He backed away before she could break free and kick him. The spanking was a game, one he’d use to spice things up now and then. But he meant it when he said he was the boss. He respected her, and her abilities, but he was the man. She rolled onto her stomach, feeling for the floor with her feet as the bed was high. The pink of his hand was fading, but damn, his mark looked good there.

She stood and turned away, back erect and breasts jutting. He held back a smile. He liked her attitude. He’d never tell Marshall, but his cousin was right. A wild, brazen woman could make life more interesting. Cole watched her ass cheeks move as she strode toward the bathtub. The next time, he’d take her from behind. Right into that hot pussy. He’d reach around to her clit and nipples and play with her until she came. Then he’d take her hips in his hands and slam home. His mouth went dry in anticipation.

First he would wash her. Then he’d put his scent all over her. She was his, and by damn, he was hers just as much.

Two hours later Cole ran his fingers up and down Casey’s back, from her neck to just above the cleft of her arse, and back up. Lazy, contented ovals. He’d well pleasured his wife and she’d fallen asleep with her head on his chest, her warm body splayed over his. He’d have to thank Sophie for giving Casey that sheer nightgown. She hadn’t worn it for very long after their bath. It would have been even less time if she hadn’t insisted he remove it carefully.

Women! He absently kissed the top of her head. For some reason wearing that little bit of nothing made Casey feel special. And when she felt special…

A fierce need filled him, to protect her and provide everything she needed. She was his, forever. No matter that Byron gave her a first kiss, or that Marshall provided her first orgasm. He was the one who’d watched her eyes widen, her mouth gasp, as he entered her for the first time. It was his name that she called out when she exploded under him, and it was his seed that filled her first.

There would be other firsts, many of them. But this one he could savor, knowing she’d come to his bed willingly, eagerly, and been satisfied.

He flipped the covers over them, kissed her forehead, and relaxed.

The sound of knocking woke Casey from a deep sleep. She reached out, but Cole was gone. She vaguely remembered him saying something about breakfast. Her stomach gurgled and suddenly she was starving.

“Casey? I’ve got your breakfast.”

“Cole?”

“Open the door. My hands are full.”

Still half asleep, she pushed back the sheets and stood up. The morning’s chill made her nipples rise. She looked around but didn’t see her nightgown. Not that it would cover anything. Her nipples hardened even more. Three steps later she was at the door. She stood behind it, hiding herself in case someone peeked in. She opened it, watched pants and boots walk in, and closed it. It took her a minute to jiggle the lock so it would work. She turned around.

“Byron? Where’s Cole?”

She automatically tried to cover herself. Byron stared at her, though he met her eyes rather than other parts. The only sound was the rain pelting against the windows. He looked different, but she was too confused to see why. Cole must have met Byron when he went to get her breakfast.

“Cole’s gone home. It’s my turn now.”

“Your turn?”

He nodded. A slow smile warmed his face. “It’s been raining all night. Might keep up all day. Can’t do much at home so it’s the perfect day to spend in bed. Our bed.”

That’s when his eyes dropped, caressing her. A slow burn started in her belly. Part arousal, but part fury as well.

“Your turn with me?” He nodded absently in answer. His stare had reached her knees. “What, is Marshall coming here after dinner?”

“Nope,” replied Byron without raising his eyes. “You already had a turn with Marsh. And anyway, he’s laid up in bed. No fever yet, so you did a good job on stitching him.”

She’d forgotten about Marshall’s injury. No fever was good. Byron had reached the floor and started up again. His hands were fisted at his side as if forcing himself to keep them there.

“So, I’m supposed to just let you do whatever you want to me?” she asked tartly. His eyes finally met hers. A satisfied smile crept over his lips.

“That’s right. Though I wouldn’t mind you taking over and running the show when I get tired.”

Casey crossed her arms, lifting her breasts in the process. Jessie had done that at the wedding party and made all three husbands take notice. It worked on Byron as well. His eyes went to her breasts. He dropped his jaw. She wasn’t going to lose her advantage by covering herself. Let him look all he liked. She had more important things to do.

She brushed past him to the table where he’d set her breakfast tray. Ham and gravy, coffee, and biscuits. Someone had cut the ham into bite-size pieces. She started eating. No horndog male, husband or not, was going to tell her what to do. Not when she stayed in a hotel and had breakfast brought to her room.

Was this what servants had done for Mama before she married? If she waited long enough, would someone come to make the bed? She glanced over. Heat rose from her chest at the small pink mark. She should have soaked the sheet in cold water before it stained.

She realized her plate was empty. She picked up her coffee and sipped. How had Cole known that she liked it sweet? He and the others took it black. She looked out of the corner of her eye. Byron looked back.

“Maybe Sophie should hang that sheet off the hotel balcony,” he said.

“What?” She set her mug down with a thud.

“It’d prove Cole won’t be getting an annulment.” He shrugged at her outrage. “Might help make you safe, since you’re worth less to them now.”

“I’m worth less?”

Byron removed his hat, scratched at his hair, and set it back on. His cheeks had a tinge of pink. He cleared his throat.

“Not to us. To the men who sell virgins.” He tilted his head toward the bed. “That means you belong to the Sweetwater Ranch.”

She set her jaw and glared.

“Just like we belong to you,” he quickly added. “All four of us are partners.” His eyes dropped to her belly. “Though maybe number five’s already on the way.”

A baby? She covered her belly button with her palm. The movement put Byron’s feet in gear. He ambled over, stood behind her and placed his big, warm hand over hers. Over the spot that may already hold the potential of her first child.

“Or maybe we start number five,” he murmured, nuzzling her hair. His warm breath flowed over her shoulder and down her front. “You are the prettiest thing. I can’t wait to kiss you from your nose to your toes and everywhere in between.” His fingers crab-walked lower. Her muscles twitched. “Especially in between.”

Casey turned, raising her arms. His eyes gleamed eagerly. He dropped his head—

“Y’all ready in there?”

She jumped at the loud voice outside the door. It was followed by hard knocking.

“Dang Pinkerton agent,” muttered Byron. He lifted his head and faced the door. “Hold yer horses. The lady just finished breakfast. She has to dress.”

A low chuckle seeped through the door. “Don’t make her go to all that trouble on my account.”

“Gibson! Get away from that door!”

Casey had never heard Sophie use that demanding tone of voice.

“Now, Sophie, don’t be interfering in my business.”

“This is my business establishment and if you don’t like it, you can go stay with Rufina Emslow. If she’ll have you!”

“I’m just asking Mrs. Taylor to answer a few—ow!”

“You can wait downstairs in the dining room. Now, git!”

Casey pressed her lips together to stop a laugh from escaping as heavy footsteps and deep mutters faded.

“Byron Ashcroft, you open this door.” Sophie rattled the knob. “I’ll help Casey dress while you keep that Pinkerton agent busy.”

He cupped Casey’s breast and squeezed, just once, before stepping away.

“I can wait. We’ve got all day before we have to be home.” Byron sighed. “And if I keep telling myself that, maybe I won’t get arrested for assaulting a Pinkerton agent. A man should know not to step between a bride and her husbands.”

* * * *

“I thought you already had breakfast.”

Byron watched in amazement as Gibson devoured a substantial plateful of ham, gravy, and biscuits along with a couple cups of coffee. He sat tall, openly watching people across the room and through the window. Something had changed since the last time he was in town. Maybe it was almost getting shot and saved by a kid with a rifle. Only that kid was now Byron’s wife.

“Man like me never knows when he’ll get decent food again.”

“On the road a lot?”

Gibson gave a quick nod between bites. “When this job’s over, I’m looking to settle down. Find myself a wife and set down roots.” He glanced at the door to the dining room. “Now that lady would be worth handing in my badge for.”

Byron glanced over. A pretty woman walked toward them in a dress and bonnet he’d last seen in Tanner’s Mercantile. It was the color of pale cream with those little pearls and lace dripping everywhere. He and Marshall had laughed that no one would ever buy it. There was nothing practical about a gown like that. Yet the woman wearing it looked so damn good in it that…His thoughts scattered at the familiar face under the bonnet.

“Casey?”

He jumped to his feet, joining Gibson. He jabbed his elbow into the man. “That’s my wife you’re talking about,” he growled.

“No, it’s not,” replied Gibson quietly.

That was when Byron noticed there were two women. Casey and Sophie. The faces of both were pink. When he could get his eyes off Casey he noticed Sophie looked different. Younger, and less buttoned up. She kept flicking her eyes to Gibson. Casey smiled at Byron and the rest of the room disappeared.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” he said to his wife. He took her gloved hand, bent over, and kissed her cheek.

“Thank you for the dress,” she whispered. “Sophie says it’s a bride present from the three of you.” She ran her hands down the front of the dress, lightly brushing the lace that descended in a vee to cup her breasts. “How did you know I always wanted a dress like this?”