Rocky Mountain Dawn (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 1) (6 page)

"Yes there it is," he chuckled. "Now, the way to give pleasure is to arouse the female with touches all over her body, eventually coming to stimulate the clitoris.

He stroked lightly over the parts he so lovingly named, but his finger always circled back to the sweet spot. Eventually he let go of her wrists and squeezed her breasts. It seemed to go on for hours.

It was right there and Esther panted as she strained for pleasure just out of reach.

He took his finger away. She almost howled with disappointment.

"Please, please, sir," she begged while she could still get her thoughts in order. "Please. I'll do anything."

"Anything?"

"Yes, please."

With a wicked smile, he drew out his cock again. "Give your doctor some relief."

She wriggled around, and he directed her on her back, head hanging upside down off the bed.

He came closer and she opened her mouth wide, breathing through her nose as he slid in and out. When he pulled out for a moment, she turned her head to lap at the sack hanging down, begging him with her tongue.

"Yes, Esther, like that." He sighed happily, and his hand played with her breasts. Bending farther down, Johnathan dipped his fingers into her, drawing her juices over her, starting to strum her clitoris. She licked fervently at his cock, feeling her body wind up, her core tight and ready to burst.

"Good girl," Johnathan groaned above her, and her orgasm hit her hard.

As soon as it ended, she felt his cock bump her lips and opened wide to suck him back in.

"I'm going deeper, Esther. Trust me." His hands took hold of her head. "Take a deep breath."

His member took her mouth, dominating her, and she ran her tongue up and down its length, communicating her submission. She felt a touch of panic when he pushed further, but she calmed herself. Johnathan would never hurt her.

Indeed, as his cock started to pulse, he drew out and let his seed spurt out over her chest. Of their own volition, her hands scooped up the slippery seed, studying it with fascination and rubbing it into her skin.

"Oh wife," Johnathan groaned. "What am I going to do with you?"

Grinning up at him, she put a finger into her mouth and tasted him.

*****

Lying in his arms afterward, Esther traced her hand over his hard chest. "I didn't know marriage would be like this."

He laughed and kissed her.

*****

Their travels continued with a train out of Boston. Days later, they arrived in St. Louis and took a room in an inn to ready themselves for the wagon ride West.

Johnathan made good on his word to help his wife dress in the morning. At night, he took to brushing out her golden hair, his touches keeping her hot and quivering for him until he pulled her into his arms.

One morning, she worked her stays until her waist was cinched in as tightly as an hourglass. Johnathan caught her admiring her form in the mirror, and he loosened her stays before pulling her over his knee and spanking her bottom to redness. When he set her on her feet, she knelt before him, hands busy at his trousers.

"Please." She waited until he nodded permission, then drew him out. As her head bobbed up and down, she felt herself grow wet and ready. She concentrated on her husband's pleasure, listening to him groan above her, her submission waking desire deep inside her.

Once she sucked him down, she pressed her legs together, looking at him with shining eyes. His finger tapped her nose.

"Naughty girls don't get to climax," he said with mock seriousness. "Get dressed, now."

A very flustered Esther sat at the breakfast table, trying not to squirm. She pouted a little whenever her husband looked at her, but he seemed amused.

"My wife likes her punishments too much," Johnathan whispered, before leaving for the day's errands. He'd given her a task: walk to the shop and buy a pair of buckskin drawers. She waited for her escort; a young couple named Smith staying at the same inn.

When they reached the shop, Esther saw the fine drawers tipped with eyelet lace and couldn't bring herself to buy the ugly brown ones for men. Stepping out of the shop, she looked for her escort and saw them still next door, examining the buckets and mining supplies.

Her stomach growled; she was to have money left over for lunch, but the fine lacy drawers cost all Johnathan had given her. Her walk up the porch took her past a sign advertising a free lunch, and she tracked back to walk through the open door.

The smell of liquor and unwashed bodies hit her, and she stopped in her tracks. The place was full of men, most rough and unkempt, all of them staring at her. A few women sat at the bar, hard looks on their painted faces.

"Excuse me," Esther blurted. "I've made a mistake."

She escaped, cheeks burning at their raucous laughter. As she strode down the covered porch, she caught sight of her husband striding through the street.

In no time he was at her side, dark brows glowering at her.

"Come," he said through gritted teeth, catching her arm and pulling her along faster.

"I lost my escort," she started to explain.

"We'll speak of it back at the inn." His long legs ate up the street, and Esther trotted beside him to keep up.

When they reached the inn, Esther's escort was standing in the parlor, looking relieved. "There she is, Mr. Shepherd. You found her."

Johnathan thanked them and took their leave, leading Esther to their rooms with a firm hand on her elbow.

Esther went slowly, knowing what was coming. As soon as she was inside the room, she whirled to face her husband.

"I'm sorry, Johnathan, I did not mean to leave them. My errand was finished and I only thought to amuse myself until they were done."

Johnathan said nothing, but stared down until Esther shrank under his severe expression.

"I lost track of time," she whispered.

Silently, Johnathan removed his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. Esther felt a quiver at the sight of his muscled arms, but kept to her plea.

"I was with my escort, but didn't want to rush them."

"So you went into a saloon?" Johnathan bent to rummage through their bags. When he finished and unfolded to his full height, he held a long, thin stick of light brown wood.

Esther found her mouth was suddenly dry. "I didn't know that's what it was—there was a sign that said free lunch."

Crossing to the bed, Johnathan laid the instrument of punishment on the bed. "It's free because they expect you to drink the whiskey. What happened to the money I gave you for food?"

"I spent it. The drawers cost more than I thought."

"Show me." Reluctantly, she handed him the parcel.

When he opened it and saw the fine white fabric, he shut his eyes.

That's when Esther knew she was in for a spanking of a lifetime.

It was a full minute before Johnathan spoke. "Undress and lean over the bed."

Feeling a little sick, Esther pulled of her layers, stripping completely. When she was done, she wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, feeling very vulnerable in front of her fully clothed, grim-faced husband.

Approaching the bed, she hesitated. The long stick of wood looked very wicked.

"Now, Esther."

Quickly, she lay face down, leaning on her elbows, keeping the wooden implement in her sights.

Her husband came beside her and grasped her bottom firmly; she whimpered even as he warmed her up.

"Do you know why you're being punished?"

"I left my escort and went to a saloon."

"You disobeyed me." His hand came down in a steady rhythm, striking all over her bottom. "I made it clear that you were to stay with your escort. Wandering off alone, without telling anyone, isn't safe."

"Nothing happened," she whined, and his hand fell harder, making her jump.

"That's not the point. We're in a strange city filled with travelers. Something could have happened. And what's more," his hand stopped to squeeze her cheeks, already stinging and warm, "you have a habit of doing this, and we're about to cross many miles of dangerous country. I cannot allow you to misunderstand the risk; you must learn this lesson now."

As he spoke, the spanking intensified, so Esther was squirming under his hand and crying out. Her bottom already felt hot.

"Oh, Johnathan, please. I'm sorry."

"Hold still." He put a hand on the small of her back to steady her, and continued laying slaps on one side of her bottom, then the other. Her feet danced on the floor, trying to wriggle out from under the pain.

"I won't do it again; I promise."

"I know you won't, Esther." He paused and sat down on the bed, pulling her over his lap. "I'm going to make sure of it." And his hand continued to levy punishment to her throbbing cheeks while she squealed and kicked her feet.

The minutes passed like hours, and Esther begged over and over for the punishment to stop. Each smack added another layer of sting to her already throbbing bottom, but, unbelievably, she felt herself growing wet. The ache spiraled down between her legs. Aroused, she rubbed her breasts against the coverlet, adding some pleasure to the pain.

"Naughty girl," her husband growled, and set her on her feet. She went to grab her bottom, but a glare from him stayed her hands.

"Go to the corner, and stand with your nose touching the wall. Think on what you've done. You'll be making apologies to the Smith's later for leaving them and causing them worry."

Huffing with pain, she moved slowly to get her dress.

"No clothes."

"Yes, sir." She crossed and put her nose to the wall, her smarting bottom the only thing she could think of. She was sure her two cheeks now looked like hot coals.

"You stay there," he said. I'm going to see if I can return these drawers and get the ones you need."

"But—" She started to turn and met his blazing anger.

"Face to the wall, Esther. If I find you've moved, you will receive more strokes with the cane."

The cane! Squeezing her eyes shut, she held very still. She'd been birched as a child, but her parents usually preferred a hand or a switch. Her brother's schoolmaster used a cane, and they reported it was horrible.

Fear kept her in place, even though she did glance behind her a few times. She was shifting from foot to foot when she heard the door open.

"You're fortunate, my dear." She heard a rustle of paper as he set the package on the bed. "The shopkeeper understood. I paid extra for his trouble."

She waited, nose to the wall, for instructions.

"Esther, come here."

Her husband was sitting on the bed, and pulled her in between his legs. "You know why I must punish you?"

"To keep me from disobeying."

His brown eyes were soft, and his hand stroked back the hair from her face. "You have a beautiful spirit. I don't want you to be hurt."

"I understand. I'm sorry."

"I know you are." He stood. "Lean over the bed. "Five strokes with the cane. You will count."

Esther lay down again and gripped the coverlet.

At the first strike, pain exploded through her and all other thoughts flew out of her mind.

"One, sir," her husband prompted, and Esther managed to repeat it.

The rest were all the same, but by the fourth, she did a little dance, coming off the bed.

Her husband waited a moment, then gathered her hands behind her back and held them for her.

"Thank you," she gasped, resuming position. Her tears were now running unchecked down her face.

The final stroke landed, and she eked out the count, then let her head fall forward onto the bed. She felt her husband examine her marks, touching just outside the stinging lines.

"Well done, Esther," he said, lying down next her. She turned to him, hanging on and soaking his shirt with her tears.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "You must have been so worried."

"Shocked, actually. I saw you alone on the street, and then you walked into the saloon. At first I wasn't sure it was really you."

"I'll try to be good from now on."

"You are good. You are my good girl, and you took your correction well. It's a pleasure to teach you how to be better."

*****

She slept on her stomach, waking when her husband rolled out of bed and went to the door. He spoke in urgent tones to someone in the hall, then came back and turned on the lamp.

"Esther," he whispered. "I must go. A family has fallen sick, and I am the closest doctor."

Rising up, she watched him pack a bag with his instruments and medicines. For their four month long journey, he'd brought only two changes of clothes, leaving more room for his medical supplies.

He looked up, brown hair falling into his face as she came around the bed.

"Let me come with you, Johnathan."

He nodded, and she quickly dressed, then followed him out of the room.

A man waited by the inn door, twisting his hat in his hand.

"Lead the way," Johnathan said.

They hurried down dark streets until they came to a little house. A family huddled in the parlor, lamplight flickering on worried faces. In the small, dank back room, a young girl lay on a pallet with her eyes half closed.

Johnathan knelt beside the bed, pulling the lamp closer to examine his patient, while her parents hovered in the doorway.

"Hello, sweetheart," he whispered to the girl, checking her forehead with one hand. "Where does it hurt?" The child stared up with glassy eyes.

Her mother hovered over the bed. "She kept complaining of her stomach. She wouldn't eat so I sent her out without any breakfast. Her brother found her lying on the rocks by the stream, curled up in pain." The woman rocked back and forth, burying her head in her hands. "We thought it was just a fever, but it's been two days."

"It's all right," Esther took her arm and led her from the room. "My husband is a good doctor, but he needs you to be strong now, for your daughter. Can you do that?" Stopping in the hall, Esther waited until the woman nodded. "Go boil some water." The woman hurried off, and Esther went to the front room, where the older siblings lay draped around the table, looking exhausted and worried.