Rocky Mountain Rogue (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 5) (16 page)

Her breath caught at his little speech.

"You want to know how much I want you?" He took her hand, and pressed it, palm down, hard against his cock. "Feel me. Feel what you do to me. I want you every minute of every day. I want you past all reason and all sense." Using her hand, he rubbed up and down his member. "You hear me?"


"I don't think you do," he half growled, and gripped her hand harder, making her stroke him faster. "But I'll tell you. I want you so bad, I'd kill a man if he dared to touch you."

Her eyes widened.

"That's right. Yesterday you sat across from Sebastian and flashed your pretty smile, and I was so mad I could've shot him and never regretted it."

"Jesse—" she half panted.

"I'm not a nice man, Susannah. I want to tie you up and keep you ready for me." He squeezed her hand over his cock, harder than she would've dared. "I want to whip your pretty skin until it's red, and keep you naked and wanting me, always." His other hand took a handful of her hair and clenched it until his knuckles were white. "I want to mark you and know, every time I see it, that I possess you."

They both were breathing hard as he released her. He glared at her, but she didn't feel afraid. Instead, her whole body was screaming for him, longing to be devoured by his dark hunger. Her nipples practically cut through her dress.

"Take me, Jesse." She shifted closer, her delicate fingers moving along his member. "I need you. I want to feel you inside me."

He shook his head, his expression strained. "It'll hurt. You're sore, from earlier."

"I know. I don't care." She waited, and when he didn't move, she moved back, and started unbuttoning her dress. She pulled the heavy fabric over her head and let it fall, kicking it out of the way before continuing to strip. Her flimsy white underclothes piled on the floor until she stood naked as he was, barefoot, her bosom heaving and the apex of her legs swollen with desire. Appearances be damned.

Through it all Jesse hadn't moved, but his whole body was rigid, barely under control. His desire fueling her confidence, she stalked around the bed as he would, and lay back on it, teasing out her hair so it flowed around her face in a golden halo. Her legs opened for him, inviting. "I don't care," she repeated.

"I care." He loomed over the bed and gripped her hips. She yelped as he pulled her bottom to the edge of the bed, but she kept her legs open, displaying her wet and aching center. He slapped his cock against her clit and her whole body clenched at the sensation.

He leaned over her, watching her reactions carefully. "I'm not nice, or gentle."

"I know," she whispered. "Please, Jesse. Hurt me. I need you."

He paused a long moment, while she practically sobbed with need. Did he want her to beg?

In one violent move, he yanked her up, and dragged her by her hair to the wall. Susannah found her cheek to the wallpaper, as Jesse nudged open her legs and smacked her bottom, hard. She cried out, surprised and so aroused.

"Is this what you need? Little city girl comes to the wild for a good hard lay." His cock pressed into her back as hands roamed over her body, dominating, claiming.

"Yes," Susannah almost cried with need. Her knees went weak and without the wall and Jesse's grip, she would've fallen to his feet.

"I'm a cowboy, ma'am. I know how to catch fillies." He slapped her right butt cheek again. "And break them."

"Yes," she panted. "Break me."

Whipping her around, he bent his head to her breasts. "These are mine. You ever strut them in front of a man, I'll drag you back by your hair and whip you so hard you won't sit for a week."

"Yes, yes," she panted, burying her hands in his hair, pulling him to her chest. With a growl, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them against the wall. Helpless, she arched her back and tried to rub herself against him instead.

His green eyes roamed over her face. "I want you, Susannah. God, I want you." His hands left her wrists and cupped her bottom, lifting her. "I want to rip you apart and put you back together again."

She could feel his hardness pressing closer to her center, so close and yet so far. "Yes, please, Jesse." Her legs wrapped around his waist and he surged inside her. Her head flew back and cracked against the wall, but he didn't stop thrusting forward, slamming her into the wall as her arms clutched at his shoulders.

"This is what you wanted, Susannah?" His face was wild.

Everything lay at the center of her legs, the sensation of him thick and powerful inside of her. Her whole world was Jesse.

His mouth fastened onto her neck, licking and sucking hard until she cried out at the dueling sensations. She was on the edge, her orgasm ready to boil through her. As her body started rocking against his, Jesse pinned her shoulder with his teeth, and bit down.

* * *

Much, much later that day, Susannah sat on the bed, humming and brushing out her hair. She'd spent the day in bed, napping while he'd gone out, and woken with the sun slanting rich golden rays on the bed. Stretching like a lazy cat, she pretended she was a fine lady on her honeymoon, on holiday with her new husband. Which, she supposed, she was, except her husband wasn't quite the soft-gloved gentleman she'd expected. He was rough, to be sure, but she felt she preferred it to the silver tongues and limp hands of the city men she'd known. Every time he manhandled her, she was consumed with lust, to the point where her body now craved his rough dominance.

The door handle jangled, heralding Jesse's return and every nerve in Susannah tingled. Think of the devil...

Her husband came in, and as always, his tall, black-clad form made her catch her breath. He prowled into the room, looking particularly handsome, freshly shaved, his hair neat and combed as it had been the first time she'd met him.

"Baggage," he greeted her, and she felt warm all over.

She turned her nose up in the air to hide her reaction and reached for her hairbrush. "Goodness, you look very fine."

The look he shot her was all Jesse. "Lord Chivington requested our presence at dinner. I figured I should clean up."

"Well, you clean up nicely." And he did. In his brushed suit and shining boots, he almost looked the part of a gentleman.

"Thank you." He put a knee on the bed and bent to kiss her. "How are you, wife?"

"I'm doing well," she murmured, thrilled with his caring actions. It was just how she'd wanted a husband to act.

Settling in behind her, Jesse tugged at the blanket, and Susannah let him, knowing what he was searching for. There was a bite mark at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, the result of Jesse's savagery. Instead of apologizing for it, he almost seemed pleased by it. Even now he kissed the tender spot, before tucking the blanket back around her.

"Getting late. You might want to dress for dinner." She still hadn't dressed after their last lovemaking session. Jesse had cuddled with her afterwards, and then rung for more hot water so she could clean up. Watching her sponge herself off seemed to excite him. He insisted on laying her down and rubbing balm into her entire body, taking care with the more sore bits. Her pussy was red and puffy, but felt much better after that and her long nap.

"I wanted your help with my stays." She nodded to the dresser where she'd lain out her garments and corset.

"I don't believe in dressing women, just undressing them." He winked, but then headed to the dresser to bring over her things.

"It seems Sebastian got a private room, so it'll be just the three of us and Rosie May—"

"Rosie May?" Her voice was sharp. "She's going to be there?"

"Baggage," Jesse reprimanded. "She's a friend."

"Not mine," she muttered to herself, her good mood broken. What was Jesse thinking, inviting that trollop? The garish-looking woman didn't belong in good company.

Jesse seemed to read her thoughts. "You judge too much on appearances."

"So do others." Taking up her things, she dressed quickly. She felt his eyes burning on her bare skin, but refused to look at him, even when he came to pull her stays tight.

"Harder," she instructed, and gripped the bedpost to ready herself for the pull.

Instead, he tied off the cord. "Normally I'd oblige that request, but I don't want you breathless at dinner. Your waist is slender enough on its own."

"I need the proper curve to fit the grey silk," she huffed.

"So wear your blue one."

She put her hands on her hips in disbelief. "A day dress for dinner?"

"Why not? Who are you trying to impress?"

Pulling on her over chemise, she fussed with the rest of her garments. "Maybe I just want to look like a lady for the first time in weeks."

"Susannah, it's just you and me, and my two friends."

"Yes, one of whom is a lord." She swept past him to the mirror, noticing his darkening expression.

"Don't want to disappoint you, baggage, but he's the third son of a lord. You know what that means?"

"Don't call me that," she snapped and pulled the yards of fabric over her head. She fussed with it, trying to ignore the tall man hulking just outside her vision, a scowl on his handsome face.

"It means he won't inherit but a bit of cash, and none of the land or title. That's why he's in America. He talks fancy and he might know pretty words, but he's just as desolate as the rest of us." Jesse leaned against the wall, arms folded, lip curled. "He's like you. Come to the West to find himself, because the chains of good society were too much to bear."

"That's not why I'm here."

"Really?" He came away from the wall so quickly her heart jumped. Tall and dark, he looked like a panther on the prowl. "Did you never sit at a dinner party, endless food, looking for the next mindless entertainment, the next flashy trinket to catch your eye?" He reached her side and all she could think about was his large body dominating hers. "Did you sit in your Boston brownstone, pretty and pampered and perfect, and long for something real?" His fingers touched a curl of her hair. She wanted to pull away and make a fuss, but she couldn't. His voice dropped to a reverent hush. "A falling star, a flying eagle, something with meaning? Isn't that why you read your books and studied to be a teacher? You didn't have to take a job." His fingers closed around the lock of her hair, and tugged it lightly. "Tell me the truth, Susannah."

She raised her chin. "If you're done lecturing me, I could use you in place of a maid. Help me do my buttons, husband," she said in an imperious tone, and was rewarded with a flash of anger in his green eyes.

She turned, lips curving in triumph, but as soon as she felt his breath on the back of her neck, she realized her mistake. His big body shadowed hers, his fingers nimble as they worked up her back, sending tendrils of desire washing up her spine.

He stopped and rested his hands on her waist. The dress was the finest style, and it fit her perfectly, even with her stays looser than she liked. When she'd bought it in Boston, she'd imagined wearing it for her new husband, to dazzle and entice him. Judging by his reflection in the mirror, he wasn't happy.

"Play the flirt, and your bottom will pay the price." Jesse's low voice, laden with promise, made her shiver.

She just glared at him as he crossed the room and opened the door with a mocking bow. Making up her mind to ignore him the rest of the night, she floated ahead of him down the hall and stairs to the hotel dining room. He caught up with her, and set her hand firmly on his arm.

As they entered the room, Lord Chivington stood to greet them.

"You look lovely," he cooed and bowed over her.

Jesse hovered at her elbow, reminding her to behave.

"Thank you, Lord Chivington. A lady never gets tired of hearing it, especially with the difficulty of doing one's toilet properly here."

"It is a challenge, isn't it?" Chivington reseated himself as Jesse drew out her chair.

"Thank you," she said quietly, her cheeks coloring a little. She hadn't thought her new husband would be polite enough to offer her the courtesy. Even after she settled into her chair, Jesse made no move to leave. Instead, he put his hand on her shoulder, waiting until she looked back at him before squeezing it lightly, then leaving for his own seat. The warmth from his hand lingered, and Susannah flushed further at sharing an intimate moment in front of the dining room audience.

Of course, Lord Chivington was oblivious—or even if he wasn't, he acted like it. As Susannah busied herself with her napkin, the English gentleman chatted away.

"You wouldn't believe the trouble I've had with trying to find a proper valet..."

The first half of dinner went smoothly, with Chivington carrying most of the conversation. Susannah learned how he had employed Jesse to escort him across the prairie. The Englishman's overblown airs couldn't hide his wit, and he had both Jesse and Susannah laughing by the time the second course came around.

Rosie May entered, and both men rose.

"Miss May, so glad you could join us." Chivington bowed and seated her directly across from Susannah. Tonight the whore was wearing a red dress that clashed horribly with her hair. Feeling her husband's eyes on her, Susannah fixed a smile to her face and murmured a greeting.

"Begging your pardon for my lateness. I had business." Rosie May dug right into the plate of food that hadn't been cleared from her place.

"What business?" Susannah asked, and the woman's eyes darted to Jesse's.

"Your husband knows," the redhead had the cheek to answer, before blowing on her soup and taking a sip.

Susannah kept her smile up, though inwardly she seethed. The two men were quiet, and the room temperature seemed to lower by ten degrees.

"I'm happy to tell you, but I wouldn't want to betray confidence," Rosie went on. "Your husband and I had this arrangement before you came to Colorado. I hope you understand."

"I understand perfectly," Susannah said.

Jesse nudged her foot under the table, and Susannah took her frustration out on his boot, grinding her heel into his toe. It may as well have been a rock.

Giving up, Susannah smiled sweetly at the redhead. "It must be nice to be a woman in business for herself. There're not many who can make a living on their own."

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