Amish Redemption (Erotic Romance) (Amish Heart Trilogy) (4 page)

Everyone should get naked and tied up on Sunday afternoons.
  They were in a wooded edge of a hayfield, ripe with tall alfalfa, where they had stopped to take a picnic lunch.  They had played all morning with Rachel and now she was fast asleep on a blanket spread out on the field’s edge, where Rebekah could see her.  Wildflowers woven into a crown were on top of her head, tangled in her dark curls.  Rebekah looked at her two and a half year old fondly.  Her deep rose colored upper lip formed a perfect Cupid’s bow and her cheeks were flushed with abundant good health.  She was wearing one of her favorite outfits today, a peach dress with white lace and ruffles with matching socks and bows for her unruly curly hair which hung to the middle of her back.

“Ouch!”  The rope
cut into her skin.

“Sorry.”  Nick adjusted it.  “That better?”

Rebekah had worn a red summer dress that buttoned all the way up the front and hung to her knees.  Nick had taken her into the edge of the forest and put her arms behind her around a tree, binding her tightly.  Spreading her legs wide, he took her feet and bound one, looped the rope around the tree behind her and tied the other foot so that she could stand but not bring her legs together. 

If
someone sees us, are we going to have some explaining to do
.

Nick stepped back, his eyes hungrily upon her.  He unbuttoned his shirt
to show his lean muscles and scattering of dark hair across his chest and down the middle of his tight stomach.  Rebekah felt warmth begin to rise in her chest and groin. 
And he hasn’t even touched me yet.  This is how you know it’s love and not lust.  Okay . . . it’s both. 
Coming forward,
h
e reached under her skirt and ran his hand up the outside of her thigh, ending in her rounded buttock.  He gave it a playful squeeze, then rubbed it with the heel of his hand and squeezed, kneading it.  Again . . . rub . . . squeeze.  Then the squeeze got harder and he pushed himself against her torso moving back and forth to let her feel the hardness in his jeans. 

He pulled away a bit and then ran his hand up the inside of the other thigh.  When he reached the junction of her thighs he withdrew both hands and rubbed them together, creating friction, then immediately put one palm o
n her femininity over her panties and one on the back of her pelvis.  Allowing the heat to envelope her, he moved his hand around in a circle between her legs while holding her steady with the other hand.  Moisture began to form within her and leak outward to her underwear.  He smiled slyly and changed the movement of his palm to be an up and down motion . . . slow and sweet.  His lips brushed hers softly in a melting kiss.  Her tongue gently sought his, moving over his mouth, and met his tongue in tender caresses.  He took the hand that was on her backside and pinched her nipple gently, then more sharply.  And again.  She cried out, bands of desire pulling from her puckered nipple to her core, which now dripped with her arousal. 

His smile increased and he slipped a finger inside the leg of her panties, just by her lips and touched her slippery folds. 
A moan of want broke from her lips.  The finger traversed her lips, around her clit . . . then up . . . then down.  Up and down again.  Up and down and then, locating her entrance, it traced lazy circles on her inner lips.  She moaned again, louder.  Want for him was crashing through her.

“Goodness, Girl, you are so wet!”  He slid his finger in her slowly and then out.
In again the finger waggled around. 

“What do I feel like?” 

“Slippery, velvety, silk.  Amazing.”  His voice was husky.  He unbuttoned her dress from the top down.  His hands squeezed her breasts again, pushing her bra up over them to allow him easier access. 

I want to touch him!
  She couldn’t budge.  She strained against the ropes. 

Nick laughed.  “You’re not getting free.  You’re all mine.”  Just hearing those words made her tingle. 

His hand traveled down the front of her panties, massaging her clit and lips.  Then he grabbed her panties in his hand and yanked.  There was a sharp tearing of fabric and her undergarment fell into two shreds, one in Nick’s hand and one at her ankle.  He tucked her dress behind her, baring her nakedness.  She shivered deliciously.

He stood back to look her over. 
“Look at you.  Gorgeous!”  She flushed with excitement. 
After all this time, he can still make me blush.  

Her want was now a burning need.  Her body demanded that they merge, and quickly.  “Please . . .”

He laughed again.  “Always in such a rush.”  It was her turn to hungrily watch him.  With deliberate, delaying hands he unzipped his jeans, exposing his erection.  He had not been wearing underwear.  He slipped his pants down a bit on his hips and while watching her, stroked himself . . . up and down.  Up and down.

“Here!”  She raised her voice.  “Come here!”

He laughed once more and stepped close to her.  He pressed himself against her while pinching and rubbing her nipples together between his fingers.  She felt the warm hardness of his cock against her belly and the band that existed between her nipples and her core became resoundingly taut. 

She gasped loudly. 
He’s driving me crazy!
  Her need was becoming dire. 

Bending his knees, he barely put the head of his engorged penis inside her and then withdrew.  Barely inside, then withdrew again.  She screamed in frustration only to have him straighten up and clap a hand over her mouth.

“If Rachel wakes up, you’ll be left hanging . . . with blue ovaries.”  She did not fully get the taunt, but fully understood the gist.  She nodded and he released her mouth, kissed it firmly and then turned his attention back to teasing her.  Bending his knees once more, he centered the head of his erection at her entrance and pushed strongly into her center.  He withdrew and delved in again . . . and again.  Grasping her hips, he thrust over and over.

“Harder,” she whispered.

He obeyed, hammering his love into her, filling her and withdrawing and filling her once more.  He transferred his hands to her shoulders, and kissed her.  Unable to move, she was fully absorbed with him: his chest hair as it lightly brushed up against her, his legs as they pressed against hers, his cock as it possessed her. 

She felt her passion overtaking her.  Sharp grunts escaped her lips with each stroke.  His cadence grew stronger and faster, pushing her higher and closer to
insanity.  “Fuck me harder,” she panted.  He clutched her buttocks in his hands and drove himself deeply inside her.  In and out, in and out, in and out:  they were rapid, furious waves.  She submitted to the deluge of passion and broke in electric storms throughout her body over and over; causing her to stiffen, then shake against her restraints. 

He wasn’t finished yet.  Bringing one hand in between them, he rubbed her almost-over-sensitive clit
, forcing her to come over and over again and she stood helpless against him as he continued to fuck her.  She broke out in cries and feeling her spasm internally, his cock became larger and even harder.  He grasped her bottom again and pounded his love into her until he was pulsating hot jets inside of her, making high pitched sounds as he came. 

I love him and oh!  I love his cock. 
And his eyes and his hands and his hair.  But oooh, I love his cock. 
Asked further, Rebekah would have also listed Nick’s intangible qualities to the list: his grace, his kindness, his intelligence.  Those would have mattered most.  But she couldn’t deny that a key element of Nick was his wonderful manhood.

Upon Nick’s untying her, she walked
, while buttoning herself up, toward the blanket where Rachel was sleeping.  Glancing up from her dress, anxiety fluttered in her stomach.  Rachel was not on the blanket. Left behind was only the crown of woven wildflowers, now faded.  Rebekah scanned the surrounding hayfield for a little dark curly head.  Rachel was nowhere to be seen. 

“Nick!” 
He was already coming towards her.

“Where’s Rachel?”

“I don’t know!”  It was a plaintive cry. 

Their
eyes searched the area swiftly—hayfield, woods, and about a quarter of a mile down the rolling hills was a road, a pond—
oh, shit!  Pond! 

“Rachel!”
 
Both of them called together.  No reply.

Rebekah began to run in the direction of the pond. 
“Rachel!”
  She shrieked her daughter’s name as she ran.  Nick ran in the opposite direction, toward the road.

“Rachel!”  She heard Nick calling from behind her. 
His calls kept getting farther away.  The only answering sound was the hammering of her own heart in her head and her ragged, panicky breaths as she ran.  Sharp grasses snagged and scratched her legs and still she ran.  She kept picturing finding Rachel floating face down in the water, her peach dress sodden and muddy and pond algae clinging to her pale skin.

“Rachel!”  She was about halfway there. 
It did not occur to her to walk slowly, looking through the hay as she went.  She knew instinctively that Rachel had come this way, and had headed for the pond.  Her only hope was to run to beat her there.

She was so concentrated on arriving at the po
nd that she almost passed right over the object.  Out of the corner of her eye she saw a flash of peach which she recognized as being the same shade as Rachel’s dress.  It brought her up short.  It was a small thing caught in the grasses.  Rebekah stooped to pick it up.  It was one of Rachel’s ribbons. 

She was now frantic.  The ribbon only confirmed her deepest fears.  Rachel was in the pond. Tears stung her eyes.  She screamed her daughter’s name aloud once more then yelled for Nick, “Over here!”

Clutching the ribbon, she recommenced racing toward the pond.  She heard Nick’s shouts behind her but did not slow her pace.

The pond was looming larger.  No sign of Rachel.  Rebekah’s foot stuck a small tree branch hidden by the grass and she came down hard.  Sharp shards of pain tore through her
left knee as she landed.  She winced and began to cry, not so much at the pain, but because she had been slowed down from finding Rachel. 
And I might be too late now
, she thought.  

Wasting no time in self-pity or remorse, she picked herself back up and threw her body back into flying down the hill toward the pond.

Closer and closer, still no sign of Rachel.  Tall reeds obscured part of the water’s edge and Rebekah could not see past until arriving there.  At the pond, she saw no sign of Rachel.  She walked briskly along the bank, rapidly blinking tears from her eyes, until right at the pond’s edge. Then, her feet sank deeply into the mud with each step.

“Rachel!”

There was no answer.  She heard Nick’s voice behind her and his hands were upon her, turning her to face him.

“What?  What did you find?”  His voice was demanding.  Rebekah knew he was frightened.  She opened her hand to show him the small peach ribbon that had so recently been in their child’s hair.  He squeezed her hand shut over it and shouted, “Rachel!”  He
walked off in the mud to begin a search around the perimeter of the pond. 

Rebekah
started to go the opposite direction around the pond. 
I don’t know where to look.
There were no small footprints in the mud in one direction where Nick had gone.  Off to the side was a thick growth of wild blackberry brambles.  The other direction was thick with cattails and reeds. Rachel’s body might be floating in there and she would never see it until she was right on top of it. 

Fighting the hysteria that was building in her throat, she
splashed swiftly into the cattails, bending and pushing them aside to find her daughter.  Nothing.  She turned and slopped through the mud and waist–high water once more to find no Rachel.

“Rachel
!”  Her wail was desperate.  She stood silently, hugging herself tightly.  She heard Nick’s calls in the distance. 
Rachel.  Where are you? 

Rebekah decided to go back to where she found the ribbon—if she could find that point now—and search from there.  It didn’t seem a very good plan, but it was all she could think of.  Despair was starting to fill her heart and she kept fighting it back by forcing
into her mind the image of holding Rachel tightly in her arms when she found her. 

Just as she was starting to slog out of
the pond, she heard it: a high pitched child’s shriek.   
Rachel.

“Rachel?” 

A giggle came in response.  Rebekah nearly broke into tension relieving sobs.  “Rachel, where are you?”  She scrambled out of the pond, yelling, “Nick!  Over here,” although she really didn’t know exactly where Rachel was.

She began sifting through the thick grass for a dark curl
y head. “Rachel, come to Mama.”  No response came but encouraged now, Rebekah searched in the direction that she had heard Rachel’s voice.  Another peal of delight led her to change course somewhat, this time in the direction of the blackberry bushes.  Two steps, look right . . . look left.  No Rachel.  Right up to the brambles. Two more steps.  Look right . . . look left— Rebekah froze.  Rachel was sitting on the ground with her legs apart in front of her.  Sitting on her dress in between her legs was a small black furry creature with white stripes going down its back. 
Skunk.  Oh shit,
Rebekah thought.