The Mistaken Mail Order Bride (11 page)

He encouraged her to remove her nightgown
and then pulled back the blanket so she could get comfortable in
the bed. As she did, he unbuttoned his shirt. She glanced away.
Yes, she was married to him and could look at him, but there was no
way she could bring herself to watch him as he removed his
clothes.

In fact, she didn’t know if she could
continue with whatever it was they were about to do if the light
was on. So before he could finish unbuttoning his pants, she asked,
“Would you mind if we continue with this in the dark?”

“No, of course not.” Holding his pants so
they wouldn’t fall, he crossed the room to the lamp and turned the
knob until it was dark.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, that was
better. Now she didn’t feel quite so exposed, and she didn’t have
to risk seeing him without his clothes on. Maybe in the future, she
wouldn’t feel this way, but then, she’d know what to expect and
that would make it much easier.

She suspected he’d be naked by the time he
got into the bed with her, and sure enough, when he put his arms
around her, there was nothing but bare, warm flesh pressing up
against her. One part, in particular, was touching her abdomen, and
it was hard, though it didn’t hurt her. She just thought it was
strange something like that should be on his body. What exactly was
it, and was it something she’d have to deal with?

Maybe she shouldn’t have asked him to turn
the light off. It’d be nice if she knew what this thing looked
like. As it was, she was left guessing. Yes, she could touch it,
but there was no way she could do that. It didn’t seem like the
kind of thing a lady with proper upbringing did.

He brought his lips back to hers, bringing
her attention once more to the thrill of kissing him. Kissing was
quickly becoming one of her favorite pastimes. Soon, the fire was
back, and this time, it seemed to be sweeping over her faster.

Once again, he reached for her breasts, and
without the nightgown, she was much more sensitive to his
ministrations. She sighed as he explored her. This was something
she could enjoy, regardless of how many times they did this. The
strange ache between her legs came back.

He shifted, and his mouth left hers. He left
a trail of kisses from her neck to one of her breasts while he
continued fondling the other. This was even better than the way
he’d made her feel while simply touching her. The contrast between
the ministrations with his hand and his mouth sent more shivers
through her.

Then his hand descended to the curls between
her legs, and his fingers brushed a part of her that was far more
sensitive than her breasts. Without meaning to, she let out a moan
and lifted her hips so she could feel him brush his fingertips
against her again.

Quick to pick up on this source of pleasure,
he used more pressure on her sensitive nub, and once again, she
instinctively let out a moan. He proceeded to continue touching
her, experimenting by tracing the length of her nub and then
rubbing his fingers over it in slow, circular motions. She found
she preferred the latter of the two and let him know by squeezing
his arm.

She lifted her hips and began rocking
against his fingers, needing more of this pleasurable act, and
thankfully, he was willing to oblige her. The last of her
inhibitions drifted away as she gripped the bed sheet underneath
her. The only thing she could do was focus on the new sensations
coursing through her, all centered in that one part of her body
that suddenly seemed like the most important part she had. Truly,
she had no idea it was capable of such pleasure. But now that she
knew this secret existed, she needed to find out where the mounting
pleasure was leading.

She parted her legs further, and he slid a
finger into her and then another. Yes, it felt good, but she missed
the contact with his fingers. She cried out in protest, too late
thinking that, as a lady, she shouldn’t complain.

Thankfully, he hadn’t seemed offended by it,
for he brought his thumb to her sensitive nub and resumed his
circular movements. “Is this alright?” he softly asked, the
underlying tone in his voice indicating his excitement in bringing
her pleasure.

“Yes,” she replied, grateful he hadn’t found
her bold action displeasing. The last thing she wanted to do was
upset him.

But all thoughts to that quickly vanished as
he proceeded to stroke her in earnest, and all she could do was
rock her hips in time with his ministrations and murmur for him to
keep going. Then, all at once, she found herself at the peak, and
it was then she knew what all of this had been leading to. She
cried out and stilled her movements as her orgasm crashed into her.
Wave after wave of pure bliss—bliss she’d never known—consumed her
to the point where she couldn’t think of anything but how wonderful
she felt.

By the time she relaxed, he pulled his
fingers out of her and settled between her legs. He leaned forward
and kissed her, his tongue sparring with hers. She barely had the
energy to respond to him. Indeed, she was still lightheaded from
her ascent into heaven, but she did her best to keep up with him,
realizing he must still be in need of the same release he’d just
given her.

The tip of the hard thing she’d felt earlier
pressed between her legs. So that’s what the thing was for. He was
going to put it where his fingers had just been. She ran her hands
down his body, emboldened enough by his heightened state of arousal
to grasp it in her hands. It was smooth and silken despite its
hardness. Curious, she let her fingers trace the length of him,
taking care to note what it felt like at the base and then at the
tip. She ran her thumb along the slit in the tip, surprised when
she felt a drop of moisture there.

He groaned and moved his hips back and forth
so the length of him slid in and out of her grasp. On impulse, she
grasped him more firmly in her hands to better feel him, and she
was rewarded with another groan, this one louder than the first. So
he liked it when she touched this part of him. Maybe when she
touched him this way, it felt similar to how she’d felt when he’d
stroked her between her legs. In that case, she wanted to continue
with what she was doing. Maybe she could bring him to the brink of
pleasure, too.

But before she could further tighten her
hold on him, he stopped thrusting into her hands and pulled himself
out of her grip.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked,
praying that hadn’t been the case. She was already inadequate when
it came to cooking and sewing. She didn’t want to be inadequate in
this, too.

“No,” he was quick to assure her. He kissed
her, the heat of his passion still as intense as it’d been moments
earlier. “You’re doing everything right. I like it when you touch
my penis. I just need to get inside you before I release my
seed.”

Release his what? Before she could ask, the
tip of his male hardness settled at her entrance, and he entered
her. A sudden pain shot through her, and she cried out in shock.
That hadn’t happened when his fingers were in her. But then, his
fingers hadn’t been as thick as his… What did he call it? Oh,
right. His penis.

He stilled inside of her, so she looked up
at him. In the dim light, she could see his worried frown. “Did I
hurt you?”

She waited for a moment to respond, choosing
to gauge what was happening and how much it really had hurt. She
shifted her hips. His penis was still inside her, but the initial
pain had seemed to ebb somewhat.

“Move in me,” she said.

“What?”

Realizing she hadn’t been polite, she
amended, “Please move inside of me.”

He did, his movement slow as he slid partly
out and then back into her. This time, it didn’t hurt quite so
much.

She brought her hands to his hips and
encouraged him to move again. He did, and he moved more easily
within her. So maybe that was it. There was the initial pain, and
then things got better from there.

To test her theory, she wrapped her legs
around his waist, the action allowing him to fill her
completely—and more easily. “Please keep going,” she whispered.

For a moment, she thought he wasn’t going
to, but then he let out a strained moan and moved inside her again.
His actions were slow, perhaps even calculated as he slid almost
all the way out before sliding back in.

Realizing the pain had, indeed, lessened,
she whispered, “It’s alright. I feel fine now.”

And it was after this, he grew bolder in his
thrusting. But even so, it wasn’t long before he grew taut and
groaned, his penis throbbing within her. Shortly after this, he
collapsed in her arms, spent and out of breath. He must have
reached his peak. That being the case, she was happy for him.

After a minute, he lifted his head and
kissed her. This time, the kiss was much like the first one he’d
given her that evening: gentle and uncertain.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, caressing
her cheek.

His concern warmed her heart. “I feel fine,”
she replied, her voice soft in the quiet room.

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel
better, are you?”

“No. I mean it. It hurt at first, but it
doesn’t anymore.”

“Good.” With a relieved sigh, he rolled off
of her and gathered her into his arms. “I don’t want to do anything
to hurt you.”

“I know you don’t.” She snuggled up against
him until she got into a comfortable position. “I don’t think it’ll
hurt next time. It must be one of those things women have to go
through when they haven’t been in a gentleman’s bed before.”

“Did you like what we just did?” Eric
asked.

Despite the heat rising up in her cheeks,
she said, “Yes, I did. Did you?”

“Yes.” Then, with a chuckle in his voice, he
added, “A lot.”

She chuckled. “I enjoyed it a lot, too.”

“Good. I want it to be something you want to
do.”

“It is.”

He gave her another kiss, and from there,
they fell into a comfortable silence. Before long, he drifted off
to sleep. She supposed she should be tired. She’d gotten up early,
and it’d been a busy day, what with making arrangements to get a
bed made for Caleb, going to the doctor, and consoling Caleb. Then
there was the consummation of her marriage. But sleep eluded
her.

She’d made a long journey here, not knowing
what to expect, and she still had to figure out how she would fit
into this new life. There was still so much to learn and do. But
she was happier than she’d hoped she’d be when she answered her
first mail-order bride ad. She didn’t see how she could have done
better than Eric. With a smile, she closed her eyes and, in due
time, drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Nine

T
he
next day, shortly after Caroline kissed Eric good-bye before he
went to work, she sat with Caleb on the floor and played jackstraws
with him. Halfway into the game, there was a knock at the door.
Surprised, Caroline put the small stick back down. Who would be
coming over here when Eric was at the jailhouse?

“I need to see who that is,” she told
Caleb.

She rose to her feet and made it to the
window in time for the person to knock again. She saw a lady
waiting for her to open the door. The plate of cookies in the
lady’s hands indicated she wanted to stay for a while and talk.

Caroline looked back at Caleb, who was
watching her. “We’ll have to continue our game later. Why don’t you
play with your top for a while?”

Without a word, Caleb picked up the top next
to him and began playing with it.

Just as Caroline was thinking Caleb had to
be one of the best behaved children she’d ever seen, the lady
knocked on the door again. She hurried to the door and opened
it.

“Good afternoon,” Caroline greeted.

“Hello. Are you the sheriff’s wife?” the
lady asked.

Caroline suspected the lady already knew the
answer to the question, but she said, “Yes. I’m Caroline Johnson.”
She stepped aside and gestured for her to come in. “Please, have a
seat.”

She couldn’t be sure, but she thought the
lady’s eyes sparkled at the thought of sitting down and talking to
her. The lady went to the kitchen table and put the plate of
cookies on it. “I’m Ida Conner. My husband is Mike. He owns the
butcher shop. Have you seen it?”

“I’m sure I passed it by yesterday, but I
don’t remember it. So much has happened in a short period of time.”
Caroline indicated for Ida to sit. “Would you like some tea?”

Ida sat down. “Actually, I prefer coffee.
May I have that instead?”

Caroline hadn’t made coffee before, and Eric
had helped her make tea that morning because they thought Caleb
would like it. She debated whether or not to admit she didn’t know
how to make coffee. It was embarrassing to have a guest over and
not be able to give them what they wanted. But then, if she
couldn’t make it, then what choice did she have?