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

With the knuckles of her first fingers and her thumbs, she squeezed her areolas. A spark erupted between her legs. She moved to her nipples, gently tugging them forward, stretching them out. The spark kindled another. The ends of her fingers grasped just the tips, even more gently sliding from the areola to the tip. She squeezed lightly at the very outer edge of the tip.

Needing more, she slid her open fingers down her ribs and belly. She quivered as her fingers drifted over her lower belly, soft as a spider’s touch. She delved deeper, pressing her fingers down to just where her tuft of hair began. Would it feel the same if it was Byron’s rough fingers touching her?

Casey spread her knees, widening the space between her thighs to rub in slow circles. She clenched her pussy as she hit a special spot above her wet lips.

She pressed the long finger of her left hand between her inner lips. She was slippery. Never had she felt that before. She slid her fingers between the lips, then pushed it just past the ring of muscle that guarded her virginity. Something soft and spongy touched the end of her finger. She clenched at the intense jolt. She pressed harder, rubbing. Needing more space, she tilted her pelvis forward, opening herself.

Soft sounds of her fingers squishing and releasing reached her ears.

Curious, she lifted her finger to her nose. The scent was clean and sweet, so she tasted it. She pulsed her finger between her wet lips, rolling her tongue. It tasted warm, fluid, yet thick. Delicious.

Heat lit her face as she remembered hearing about tasting a man’s cock just this way. She dragged her finger out of her mouth, letting her teeth graze the top and bottom while her tongue twirled in a circle around it. A loud “pop” erupted when she pulled her finger out of her mouth. She swallowed, still tasting herself on her tongue.

Would she ever do this with a man? She’d seen cocks before. She didn’t mind her brothers running around naked when they were young, though she hated it when drunks didn’t bother to turn away to empty the beer they’d guzzled. The thought of touching a man’s cock had always disgusted her, but she realized it had more to do with the man than the cock it was attached to.

Touching Cole or his cousins this way would be…interesting. How would she know how to please them, other than what she’d overheard?

She put her finger in her pussy again, pretending it was a cock, then brought it to her mouth.

This time she stuck out her tongue, touching the underside of her finger with the tip of it. She let her tongue rest there for a moment, just tasting and feeling. Then she rolled her tongue in tiny circles on the pad of her finger, as if it was the head of a cock.

She flickered her tongue in and out. When she pulled her tongue back into her mouth a slapping sound emerged. It was from her tongue hitting the bottom of her mouth, between her teeth.

What would it be like to have a man lick her with his tongue, just like her finger had touched herself? A burst of fluid erupted. She reached down again, rolling her finger between and around her pussy lips. In her mind it was Marshall kneeling between her legs.

He moans as he inhales her scent. He looks at her with that wide smile and puts all his attention onto her. He tastes her, swirling his tongue and pressing it in. Drinking deep.

Her finger found a special spot. She gasped and arched her back.

Marshall grins at the power he holds, that of pleasing his woman in a way she’s never known before. He hauls her even closer and begins feasting. She grabs his thick hair in her fingers, needing something to hold, to ground her.

She spread her legs wide, her fingers busy. Her scent seeped into the room.

Marshall uses his fingers on her now. They find spots she never knew existed. He growls that he wants more. He lifts her and tosses her on her back with her limbs spread wide. He grabs her thighs and hauls her bottom to the edge of the bed. He takes his cock and guides it into her.

He looks down as his cock disappears into her pussy. Her arms are wide, grabbing the sheets. Her breasts are firm, the nipples eager. He’s finally in, his balls tapping against her. His feet are wide apart, his thighs rubbing against hers.

He waits a moment, hauling air into his lungs, while she stretches to fully accept him. His eyes light up and he leans forward. He sucks and plays with her breasts and nipples. Her hips start moving without her realizing. His cock fills all of her. He pinches her nipples. She arches, gasping.

The sight of her wanting him is too much. He roars, grabs her hips, and begins slamming his cock deep into her. He stares down at her like a wild man. She reacts to him, arching her back and lifting her bottom to meet him. Every movement, in and out, brings new sensations.

He pounds into her, neither of them knowing anything but their need. She clamps her muscles around his cock.

Casey arched her back, stiffening her legs as her busy fingers created an explosion. She gasped like a fish, her fingers wet and her head buzzing.

“Oh, my,” she said to the empty room, “is that what Beth meant by ‘peaking’?”

She gave a slow, satisfied smile, and laughed. If it was, she couldn’t wait to find a husband to do the same to her. Not Cole, of course. But Marshall could marry her. Marshall and Byron. They could build a small room off the cabin for Cole to sleep in.

She groaned at her silly fantasy and sat up. Her thighs were wet. She rolled off the bed, holding onto it until the dizziness passed. There was a wet spot on the quilt. Heat rose to her cheeks and ears. It would dry before anyone came home.

After giving herself a quick wash, Casey dressed in her pants and shirt. Though restless from the explosion and desire for more, she spent the whole afternoon mending shirts and pants and darning all the holey socks she could find. In between she made a batch of gingerbread with the last of the powdered ginger and molasses. It turned out a bit dry so she decided to spoon canned peaches over the top. She’d made enough beef stew that morning to last through supper. They’d finished up the bread at dinner, so she’d make dumplings and drop them in the stew.

Working in this home, which she pretended was hers, gave her more satisfaction than she’d ever known. She loved to make everything neat and tidy. She wanted to have tasty meals ready when the men came home. She had pride in her work, but it meant so much more when she was appreciated. The more they praised her, the safer she felt.

She had to prove she was worth keeping because one of these days, maybe not until Thanksgiving, they’d find out she was a woman. That would mean Cole no longer had to keep his promise. He’d agreed to keep a boy working all winter, not a woman. She had to make them believe they needed her, even if she was female. Everything she’d seen in the last few days proved they were gentlemen. Surely they wouldn’t send her away knowing she’d die over the winter.

Zeus yipped, demanding to be let out of his box. She walked over and bent down. The sharp creases of her new shirt and pants rubbed against her cleft. She hadn’t realized how rough new clothes would be, especially on such tender skin. She’d have to be careful as she had nothing to wear underneath her pants. She hadn’t needed anything before, as her old pants were soft and loose. Nor could she ask for something to protect her skin without giving herself away.

She cuddled Zeus to her chest. The warm bundle of fur soothed her, making up for any amount of pain. She closed her eyes as she drew his soft fur against her cheek.

“They might think you’re the runt, but I know you’ll be the best dog ever.” She kissed the top of his head. He gave a yip, making her smile. “I’d better take you outside. You’ve been sleeping most of the afternoon and I don’t want any messes on my clean floor.”

Since the barn was south of the house and she wanted to avoid it, she went out the back way, toward the hill. The men would be coming home soon and she didn’t want to be caught outside. She set Zeus near a clump of weeds. He sniffed around for a bit before he found the perfect spot.

“That’s a good boy,” she crooned. She knelt and he lumbered toward her, mouth wide in what she was sure was a puppy laugh. A drop landed on her head, followed by one on her arm. The clouds that had gathered were releasing the promised rain. “We’d best get inside. Can’t get my new clothes all wet.”

She set Zeus on the wood floor, letting him follow her to the kitchen. She washed her hands and gathered eggs, salt, flour, and cold water for the dumplings. She was stirring the stew so it wouldn’t stick to the bottom when the door opened. She looked over her shoulder with a welcoming smile. Cole stepped in, saddlebags over one shoulder. His eyes flashed on her before he turned his back. He set his hat on the antlers. Every muscle in his body was tight.

Her chest contracted. She shrank into herself, automatically hunching to seem smaller and less visible. Her happiness disappeared like a morning mist in the hot sun. Her life depended on the mood of the man in charge. She could sometimes get away with telling her brothers off, but Pappy controlled when and if she was allowed to eat, sleep, or remain untouched. She was barely walking before she knew firsthand that an angry man was a dangerous man.

She forced herself to breathe slowly. In and out. Cole wasn’t anything like Pappy. He was a good man. Even though he wanted a good-size guard dog, he’d let her keep the runt. She chose Zeus because he reminded her of herself. For too many years she was the smallest, and therefore ignored. It made her desperate for acceptance.

And just because Cole was angry about something, it didn’t mean it had anything to do with her. She kept her back to him, straining to hear every movement. Her pounding heart made it difficult. A thump made her jump. A quick look out the corner of her eye showed it was his boot. A second thump followed.

He sniffed. “Smells like gingerbread.” He inhaled again. His eyes found her. He frowned. “You washed?”

He didn’t sound angry. She nodded, letting out a cautious breath. Though the worst of her fear faded, her nerves still hummed. She closed her eyes, willing him to stay away. But he strolled over and lifted the lid of the pot, crowding her. Though he’d been careful not to touch her before, this time his elbow brushed against her chest. She forced herself not to flinch, telling herself he meant nothing by it. He couldn’t know what was underneath the cotton strips binding her chest or that his touch made her breasts ache. His thigh rested against her hips, sending heat into the core of her body.

“You making dumplings to go with the rest of that stew?”

She nodded, unable to speak past the tight knot in her throat. He grunted, then set the lid back on the pot. She smelled him over the aroma of food. He didn’t stink like the men she’d grown up with. No reek of old sweat, onions, and rotting food stuck between crooked teeth. While Cole had a faint whiff of sweat, it was clean rather than acrid. She also picked up leather, horse, soap, and fresh air. She inhaled, branding his scent into her.

“Then I’ll wash up and let you do your work.”

The back of his hand brushed over her bottom as he turned. Icy fire shot to her core, making her shiver. Was it an accident? Her whole body tingled in awareness of him. If his innocent touch did this, what would it be like to have his fingers drift over her naked skin? When she touched herself earlier, the tingling awareness of the place between her legs was nothing like this throbbing ache. She shifted her legs nervously. The seam of her pants rubbed, sending a jolt of heat.

Cole had moved far enough away that luckily he didn’t hear her gasp. She hauled air as deep as she could, forcing a calm she didn’t feel. He was angry or irritated, but why? She could tell his mood because he jerked when he moved instead of the smooth flow she was used to. She puttered at the stove so she could blame her red face on the heat.

“Hey, stop that, you runt. Your teeth are sharp. Zeus!”

She whipped around. Zeus had his teeth in the toe of Cole’s sock. No, it was his toe! Heart pounding, she slapped a hand over her mouth to hold back a cry. When Cole lifted his foot, the puppy growled, biting harder.

If Pappy knew she cared about something, he killed it. If she tried to stop him, he tortured the animal first. Zeus had attacked Cole, and the man had already been angry. He knelt, his back to her, his hand reaching for the dog. She closed her eyes, unable to watch him hurt the dog.

But Zeus didn’t yelp. Instead, she heard Cole chuckle.

“Don’t you be chewing on my toes, little fella. That’s my only sock without a hole. Casey better get a load of darning done to catch up.”

Disbelieving her ears, she opened her eyes. Cole gently released Zeus’s teeth from his big toe. Still crouched on the floor, he lifted the pup to his chest. Zeus happily gnawed on a thumb instead. Cole smiled. At least, one corner of his mouth turned up just a tiny bit. Casey released the breath she’d been holding. She swayed, lightheaded in relief. Cole looked up. He scowled at her.

“Did you think I’d hurt him just because he chewed on me? He’s only a puppy!”

She wrapped her lips over her teeth and nodded. If she tried to talk, she’d only make a high squeak.

“Well, if that don’t beat all.” He heaved a great sigh and stood, still cuddling the dog in his huge hand. It reminded her a bit of Sin and his daughter. They both had enough power and strength to kill, but kept it carefully leashed. “I said you’re safe here, and I mean it. No matter what. I’d never hurt a dog, or a boy.” His brown eyes seemed to grow. His nostrils flared. “Or even a woman.”

He said the last few words as if cursing. He padded toward her, seemingly unaware of Zeus still gnawing on his thumb. She was caught with the stove behind her and couldn’t back up, but he stopped at the table.

“I expect you had a bad time growing up.” He growled the words. “But for the last time, we don’t kick puppies, slap children, or beat women.” He looked at Zeus, then scratched behind the happy pup’s ear with a finger. “Might take you a while to believe it. But it’s true.” His brown eyes bore into her. “You’re safe here, no matter what. Y’hear?”