Barefoot Bride for Three Read online

  He couldn’t stop the growl. He locked the door, then jammed a chair against the handle just in case. Frank Chambers said he’d keep Big Joe locked up until after they left town. While the man had no friends, there were those who wanted to get in his good books. The wooden chair might not keep them from the room, but he’d be warned if they tried to break in. He removed his gun belt and placed it on the table next to the bed.

  Her color deepened with every slow step he took back to her. Though he wanted to rip the gown with both hands and dive in, she was a virgin and needed to be eased into pleasure. And he wanted to see her wear that piece of fluff in their bedroom. In daylight.

  “Wine?”

  She nodded, thank God. Wine on a near-empty stomach would help relax her.

  Nothing would make him relax. Ever since he’d seen her, he’d been harder than a railroad spike. Even if he’d spent himself in his quick but thorough bath, he’d still be hard.

  She carefully placed his flowers in a water jar. She lifted it to her nose and sniffed, then set it down. She turned and accepted the glass he held out. He sipped once, then set his wine on the table. He moved behind her, eager to touch. She trembled as he gathered her hair with his fingers. Like golden silk, it was. He couldn’t wait until she impaled herself on him and trailed it over his belly. It would ripple as she shuddered, her orgasm shattering her as she rode him like Lady Godiva.

  He waited for her to finish her wine, then parted her hair and draped it forward. He followed its flow with his hands, over her breasts and down to her belly. Then he kissed the naked nape of her neck. She shivered. He nibbled, scraping his teeth gently and was rewarded with a moan. He reached around and plucked the empty glass out of her hand, setting it safely on the table.

  He set to work on the buttons that ran from her chin to heaven. His thick fingers had to work hard to release the small pearls. Though he wanted to complain to Lily, she’d just laugh and say anticipation made the prize sweeter. Beth was sweet already. For each inch revealed, he rewarded himself with a taste of her creamy, pink skin.

  He forced himself to go slowly, kneeling to reach the last few buttons. Her scent rose to him, rousing a beast he’d kept quiet too long. He pressed his tongue in her navel and scraped his teeth over her belly. Eyes glistening, nostrils flaring, she gazed down at him, clutching her gown closed like a shield.

  “Show me,” he choked.

  It took her a minute to get her balance. She stepped back, pressed the gown off her shoulders, and released it. She clenched her hands at her sides as the gauzy fabric drifted to pool at her feet.

  A groan like an animal in pain filled the room.

  The fire flickered over high, proud breasts. Her soft, rounded belly called to his tongue. His heart spasmed so hard he couldn’t breathe. Golden curls whisped over her pussy, tantalizing him with flashes of flesh as she shifted nervously from foot to foot.

  “Closer,” he croaked.

  She lifted her foot high enough for him to see dew sparkling on swollen pink folds. He ground his teeth. She stopped, just out of his reach, and bit her lip.

  “I can’t leave that beautiful nightgown on the floor.” She quickly turned and bent over to pick it up. Unknowing, she flashed him a view of paradise when her cheeks separated. A paradise he’d spend the next few dozen years enjoying. She carefully placed the nightgown over a chair and faced him again.

  “Let me touch you,” he growled. “Pleasure you.”

  Head down, she inched forward, toes gripping the rug, until he grasped her thighs. He encouraged her to spread her feet before him, opening her to his exploration. He leaned close until her fine hair tickled his nose. She smelled of sunshine and strawberries. A spring rain. An October thunderstorm.

  Chaste and wild and wicked all at once.

  His.

  He rose to his feet and swooped her into his arms. She gasped and clutched him around the neck. He set her gently on the bed, knelt before her, and gazed down. Her large breasts, each dotted with a hard pink nipple, waited for him. When he gently urged her legs apart and bent his mouth to her, she shook her head and held her knees together.

  “I’m your husband. You belong to me. All of you. As you do me.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. I want to taste every inch of you. I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

  She rolled her bottom lip inside her teeth. After a moment she relaxed her thighs, closing her eyes at the same time.

  He was pleased she was shy. She didn’t yet know what she wanted or how to get it. It was his job to show her the pleasure a man could give a woman. Only then would he take her maidenhead, and that, gently.

  This time.

  He hoped there’d be times when they’d attack each other, fighting to mount, to be mounted. Lord, let it be soon.

  He saw the thin crack between her eyelids, which proved she watched. He wanted to taste her, to make her scream his name. He stood and stripped to the waist, kicking off his boots to save time later. He knelt before the high bed, a perfect height for him. He lifted her feet and pressed the soles together so her knees spread wide, opening her up. She squeaked and fell back on her elbows but didn’t complain.

  He stared at her sweet pussy. He was the first to view this beautiful sight. Her white thighs spread wide, pulling her lips with them so the lamp lit up the deep pink center. She was already wet for him, but she’d be soaking the sheets before he would enter her with his cock.

  Her pussy clenched as he watched, squeezing nothing. He reached forward and pressed his finger into her, just an inch. She clenched again, her muscles holding his finger tight. He looked up, catching her watching him. She jammed her eyes shut and he chuckled.

  “You’ll have more than my finger to hold soon enough, sweetheart.”

  He held her thighs up with his hands and slowly approached, nosing apart her lips. Her soft hair tickled his nose. He slid his tongue between the grooves on each side of her pussy, careful to keep his moustache from her clit. When he pressed his tongue into her, he was rewarded by a soft gasp. He inhaled deeply as if to imprint her sweet, musky scent in his brain.

  He teased her apart with callused fingers and flickered his tongue over her tiny clit until it rose to salute him. She twitched her bottom, rocking her hips forward. He sucked at the top junction of her pussy lips, again flicking her rapidly swelling clit. When he pressed a finger into her, more deeply this time, she thrust back, a small moan escaping.

  She lay back on the bed and lifted her hips, demanding more. The position revealed her tight brown asshole. He wet his little finger with her juices and teased the tight flesh. When he gently pressed in and released, a ring of pink appeared for a moment. Oh, yes! Rather than clenching tight to keep him out, she’d relaxed the ring of muscle. Her reaction suggested she would receive pleasure there, as well.

  Her reaction meant there’d be more options for the Elliott men to please her. Not that they wouldn’t be just as satisfied as she. But he wouldn’t think about sharing her with his brothers. Tonight was all about her needs.

  He pressed two fingers inside her pussy and cupped them forward, his thumb pressing against her rising bud. She gasped and arched, thrusting hard when he repeated the action. She jerked, head flipping from side to side, hands clenched into the covers.

  “Oh, yes,” she called, unaware she spoke. Unaware of what she asked for.

  He smiled to himself and renewed his efforts with fingers, tongue, nose, and chin. Her soft body, so different from his own, wriggled before him as he found her special spots. She gasped and twitched, wanting more. Needing more.

  When he knew she was close he pressed the tip of his wet thumb in her bottom. She squealed and bucked against his hand like an unbroken filly. He extended her ride until she collapsed. He stood up, watching her breasts as she panted and tiny aftershocks made her shiver.

  He nibbled his way up her body, giving her a chance to find herself again. She kept her eyes closed until he plundered her mouth. He s
tarted gently, but when she pressed her hands against his head to keep him close, he thrust his tongue into her just as he wanted his cock in her sweetness. She sucked him deep, demanding more. He pulled away and backed up a few steps before he lost even more control. He hadn’t been this hard and horny since his first visit to Miss Lily’s Parlor.

  Her eyes opened languidly. “Oh, my,” she said. “I had no idea…”

  “That’s just a taste, my delightful wife. Are you ready for more?”

  “There’s more?”

  He took her words as a challenge, using his fingers and tongue to bring her once again to the edge of release. But this time he slowed before completion, letting her passion dim a bit. He wanted to make her scream his name, but this time she would have to ask for more. He wanted a wife who would ask for what she wanted rather than expect him to know. He moved away and waited until she opened her eyes.

  The tip of her pink tongue pressed down on her lower lip. He winked and she pouted in reply. Beth was a determined woman, but he was even more stubborn and would wait her out. He knew how to read body language. It worked with horses, poker, and fights. No reason it wouldn’t work on a woman. Beth’s passion was something he’d hoped for, but not expected. It meant he wouldn’t have to tell her to shush. No, he’d just nibble along the side of her neck, and she’d forget what she was about to say.

  His father said it worked like a charm with his strong-minded mother, not that she hadn’t done the same to him on occasion. They’d loved each other far more deeply than they had their children. He wouldn’t make that mistake. He and Beth could enjoy each other’s bodies and company without love destroying those around them.

  Loving, now that was another kettle of fish. He planned to have lots of that, starting now. She wanted more, and he’d give her such an explosion that she’d not remember the initial pain of a virgin becoming his woman.

  He slowly, deliberately, unbuttoned his pants as she watched. He tossed them aside and kept going, forcing himself to do it slowly. Only his lifetime need for total control had kept him from exploding dozens of times as he pleasured her. When he finally dropped his drawers and released the hardest, largest erection of his life, it pointed to her like an enormous compass needle. She inhaled and scuttled back on the bed.

  “Oh, my,” she whispered. Her eyes were wide but, he thought, more in fascination than horror.

  He pulled on his foreskin. A drop at the tip glistened. Staring, she licked her lips. She watched, mouth open. He pulled his sheath all the way back, his deep plum head thick and hard.

  She sat up on her knees, to see better he hoped.

  “If you want me, you’ll have to ask,” he said. “This way, I can be sure you’re ready to be my wife in all ways. Once I enter you, our wedding can’t be annulled.”

  She frowned and bit her lip. She pushed her hair behind one ear with her hand, revealing a firm breast and taut nipple.

  “I want you in every way, Trace Elliott,” she said, almost growling. She reached out her hand, then pulled back. “Can I touch it?”

  “You can do anything you want with me, wife.”

  He stepped to the edge of the bed. She took him in her soft hands. His cock jumped and he immediately realized this was not a good idea. Control only went so far, and he was at his limit.

  She leaned over and licked his tip.

  “Whoa!” He backpedalled so fast he almost tripped over his boots. He’d damn near erupted like a geyser.

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  “Shh, little one,” he said, fighting the urge to plunge deep into her pouting mouth. “I want you so bad I might choke you. Lean back.”

  She did so, heels against the edge of the mattress, knees apart. Her pussy, swollen and red from his mouth, wept for him.

  “Sweetheart, are you ready?”

  She touched herself with one hand, spreading her lips as he had done earlier. “This will make you my husband? No one could take me from you?”

  No one was going to take her anywhere but him for a while. Not even Simon or Jack. No how, no way. Not trusting his wrecked vocal cords, he nodded.

  “Then I want you now.”

  Her red gates clenched as if he was already there. He groaned and stepped close. He set his eager cock between her lower lips, rubbing back and forth while he massaged her breasts. He hadn’t paid near enough attention to them. Her eyes widened when he squeezed her nipples between thumbs and forefingers.

  “Like that, do you?”

  She nodded, so he pinched a little harder. She arched her back. With his next slow thrust his dark purple head stretched her, preparing her to take all of him. He moved slowly, fighting the need to slam deep, to take her hard and fast. But this was about Beth’s needs, not his own.

  Another inch and he hit her barrier. He waited a moment, then pinched her clit. When she arched her back he shoved forward, breaking through. He waited, panting and trembling.

  “You okay?” he growled.

  She nodded. He slid in and out, just an inch or three, building her tension. She writhed, moaning and thrusting herself onto him. He caught her clit between his knuckles. She came, her internal spasms squeezing him, and all bets were off. His control, something he’d staked his life on again and again, shattered when he plunged deep inside her. He pumped hard, clasping her hips and pulling her to him as he thrust forward. Faster and faster as she keened until she clenched against him again and he exploded.

  He jerked like a puppet, pumping his life into his woman.

  His wife.

  His future.

  A slow, satisfied smile appeared on the lovely face below him. He held her hips to stay inside her until his head stopped spinning. A loud buzzing filled his ears and the room tilted. When he pulled out, still semi-hard, the tip of his cock trailed a thin line of red down her thigh.

  He used cool water to wash off the evidence of her lost maidenhead. She barely opened her eyes. He scooped her into his arms and laid her high on the bed. When he lay beside her, she rolled to him, her luscious body half on top of him. He wrapped an arm around her to hold her tight, threw the covers over them with his free hand, and let the world disappear.

  Chapter Five

  A whisper in her dream made Beth smile lazily. She lay on her back, warm and comfy. A deep, guttural groan erupted nearby. Lips enfolded her nipple, and she arched into his touch, the dream so real. A dream that, had her parents known, would have sent her to an asylum for fallen women.

  “More,” she murmured.

  “It’s my turn, wife.”

  Wife? She wasn’t married in her dreams—there weren’t any men worth it. She opened her eyes to find dark ones laughing down at her. “You offered me something a while back.”

  Heat shot from her belly to her face. She shut her eyes again. Though it was low on the horizon, the full moon lit the bed.

  “I know you’re awake, wife.”

  She reached to pull the covers over her head. Though he held her wrist gently, she couldn’t move.

  “I have a name, you know,” she groused, glaring.

  He lay on his side, head propped up on his elbow, looking down at her. Grinning. She focused her attention on his wide, strong chest. She’d never been so at ease with anyone. This man, a stranger a few short hours ago, was her husband. A husband who had done such wonderful things with her. His touch, gentle or rough, made her tingle. Beside him, she felt safe and cherished, as if he really cared about her.

  All her life she’d wanted to matter to someone for more than what she could provide. While she enjoyed his company, he had needed a wife and she, a husband. She didn’t expect him to treat her so gently once they reached his cabin. She would enjoy what she could as long as possible and let tomorrow take care of itself.

  “Yep, you’re Mrs. Trace Elliott,” he said. “My wife.”

  “My name is Elizabeth Elliott. You may, however, call me Beth.”

  “I’ll call you whatever I want. Princess. Goddess. And some
times Kate and a royal pain in the ass. But always, my woman.”

  She twitched her lip, refusing to meet his eyes. She’d never admit it, but something in her reveled in his possession of her. Of all the men she’d met, none could compare to her husband. He belonged to her now.

  “I feel safe with you,” she said, more to herself than her husband.

  “No one will hurt you again.”

  She saw affection and pride on his face. Not love. He’d insisted he’d never love her.

  But what did she know of love? A wife was lucky if her husband didn’t beat her or spend all his money on drink. She had one who wanted to please her in ways she’d never known existed. A husband who would provide her with children to love. He said respect and honesty was what kept a marriage going. She’d not known any of it growing up. So far, it felt wonderful.

  She glanced farther down the bed. The object that had brought her so much delight rested on the sheet. It grew as she watched. Her breasts swelled in reaction. She remembered how satisfied she’d felt before falling asleep.

  And what she’d offered.

  She reached down and stroked him with her fingertips. It felt hard and soft at the same time. A dark eye peeped out of its hiding place. She scrunched down in the bed so she could grasp it with both hands. Trace murmured encouragement. He’d brought her so much pleasure with his mouth. Was that what he wanted her to do in return?

  She sat up. He rolled onto his back and pressed a pillow under his head.

  “You’ll have to tell me what to do,” she said.

  “You told me you have a brain. Use it.”

  Trace encouraged her to break free from the repressed way she’d been raised. He was a hard, rough-living man with a voice to match. He’d never fit into a category Eastern society marked “acceptable.” She knew none of the girls at Miss Primula’s Ladies’ College would condescend to even sniff down their noses at someone like him, even if his voice were perfect. Yet he wanted her, and she’d discovered a sensual joy with him, one she’d never imagined. Even more, she’d found a man who wanted to please her, at least in bed