Wildflower (16 page)

But this kiss wasn’t about riding roughshod over her, demanding and taking from her. Rather it felt…equal. Like they were partners.

Reality stunned her. They
were
partners, at least for now. Logan had made that clear concerning the ranch and now he was extending their partnership to the bedroom. And like any good partner, since her husband had given so unselfishly, it only seemed fair to return the favor. She wound her arms around his neck, slanted her mouth and kissed him with all that she had. All that she was.

He paused for a span of a heartbeat before his arms nearly squeezed the breath from her body. His mouth became hungrier. She matched his ravenous appetite as his hard cock pressed into her lower belly.

Tipping her pelvis, his cock slid in between her legs. She then pumped her hips, moving over the hot, slick length of him. She hadn’t a clue what she was doing, but if the gurgled, choked groans coming from Logan’s throat were any indication, she was doing something right.

Her hands roamed over his chest. Her nails skimmed his nipples. A low snarl of pleasure sprang from him. He wrenched away.

“Hell’s fire, sweetheart. You’re gonna kill me.”

A smile danced on her lips as she nipped his jaw line and neck. He leaned back to brace his arms behind him which gave her the freedom to explore his body.

Tonight she wasn’t Matt, the cowhand or Matt, Gene’s daughter.

Tonight she was Matt, the woman. Logan’s woman. If only for tonight.

Her lips went lower, to his chest, to lick and taste each hardened nipple. His cock twitched between her legs.

Her thumbs counted his ribs, her mouth traveling ever lower, tracing through the bristly smattering of chest hair. Her tongue explored his bellybutton as her hand closed around his pulsing flesh like he’d shown her. Glided up and down. She heard his harsh intake of air. Felt his body strain, his muscles quake. He’d said her mouth would be on him.

Down here.

She stared at his erection. It stretched upward, broad and so enlarged, her finger and thumb could scarcely touch for its girth. It convulsed against her palm.

It appeared darker than the rest of his skin—more dangerous—nestled in a batch of tight curly hair. He brought his hand to the back of her head and encouraged her downward.

She glanced up. His face seemed craved from granite, yet his hooded eyes glowed. She licked her lips and switched her gaze back to his cock. His whole body stilled. She opened her mouth. And slowly enveloped the throbbing head.

At the first touch of her tongue, a strangled groan echoed loud and he lurched. He kept his hand on her head, but didn’t push her to go faster or further than she was ready. It gave her a sense of comfort. Made her want to please him even more than she already did. She took him deeper.

His hand fell away as his hips gently thrust into her mouth. “Your mouth is so hot, sweetheart. So hot and tight. Lick the underside. That’s it. Ah—”

Her nipples prickled at his raspy instructions.

“Take my cock back into your mouth. All of it. Come on, deeper. Move your hand with your mouth. Good. So damn good.” His hips increased their tempo, driving in and out of her mouth. “Now cup my balls in your other hand. God—”

A thought fluttered at the edge of her brain. If she and Logan were truly man and wife, this would be the part of him to invade her other body part. To give her his seed. Give her his child.

A void swelled within her body. It started in her womb and traveled up to her chest. She wanted more. More of Logan. All of him in fact. But wouldn’t that mean the end to her dream of leaving Indian Territory? Did she care?

In an unexpected move, he pulled from her mouth and hauled her up his body to kiss her in a ruthless, devouring of lips. His tongue pillaged until all the air was gone from her lungs.

He yanked her to arm’s length. “Lay down with me.”

Oh God.

What did he intend? Claim his full martial right? She didn’t have the strength to say no. “
Wh…
Why?”

Her husband settled onto his back. “Cuz I’m gonna eat you up like Chuck’s chicken fried steak.”

His gruff vow scurried chills along her skin.

“Now come here, sweetheart.”

She laid down beside him.

“No. Straddle my face with your legs.”

She reared up. “What?”

His firm hands turned her around. “You heard me. Lift your leg.”`

“But—”

“Trust me, sweetheart, you’re gonna like this. It’ll feel good. Real good.”

In hesitant moves, she obeyed. Mortification flamed her face to be in such a humiliating position. Until she realized his bulging cock was right in front of her. Any chagrin became a distant memory. Cool air breezed against her most intimate of womanly parts as Logan widened her legs.

His callused fingers parted her tingling flesh. “Now grab the base of my dick and put me back in your mouth. All the way down your throat.”

She swallowed the quivering head and was rewarded with her husband’s mouth again on her sex. He tickled and teased her before drawing her in between his teeth. Strong fingers entered her as his tongue flicked her responsive clit. She moved her hand in time to her bobbing head. An unexpected pain piercing her backside stopped her. Was that a finger in her ass?

She popped Logan from her mouth and twisted around. But her husband’s forearm across her lower back kept her from moving. “What are you doing?”

In answer, he rocked his arm which caused her hips to rock. The stinging pain quickly faded and she swayed her hips in unison to his fingers and mouth.

She attacked his cock. Heat spiraled out from her pussy to the rest of her body, like ripples in a pond. Soon flames consumed her from within. Dynamite on fire. That’s what she was. She couldn’t think, only feel.

Feel Logan. Feel what he was doing to her. Feel his cock grow impossibly fat against her tongue. Feel that intangible longing for
more
take hold once again.

She gagged and her eyes watered, but she didn’t stop. Never would she stop. Her legs quivered. Her heart raced. Blood roared in her ears. Her belly convulsed. A torrent of carnal pleasure exploded through her.

His cock muffled her shriek. Her hips bounced and gyrated. Wave after wave of rapture washed over her.

Still convulsing with ecstasy, Logan threw over her leg and jerked to a sitting position. He gripped her short hair, dragging her up to his mouth. He mashed their lips together in a brutal kiss. His hand covered hers which still pumped his cock.

His forceful grunt vibrated against her breasts as his seed, hot and pulsing, spurted up between them. He tore his mouth away. “Ah, God! Matt!”

This time her heart wrenched. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have her husband’s seed inside her.

After a long minute, where the only sound in the room was their serrated breathing, he shifted back until their gazes met. “You okay?”

She managed a wobbly nod.

He brushed his lips against hers. “Good.” He stretched out on the towel and gathered her into his arms. His hand trailed from her shoulder to her fingertips.

She lifted up to look at him. “Did I do that right?”

His crooked grin tugged at her heart. “If you do it any better, sweetheart, you
will
kill me.”

With a satisfied smile, she tucked her head back to his chest. More moments ticked by. Her eyelids drooped then finally closed. She snuggled into his body heat with a contented sigh. A playful slap to her tingling butt snatched her from the edge of slumber.

“Come on, wife,” Logan said when she tipped her head to glare at him in mock anger. “We need to get cleaned up. Then it’ll be time for bed.” His eyebrows waggled wickedly.

Genuine shock gripped her. “Again? You can’t be serious.”

The tenderness in his laugh washed warmth through her chest.

He hugged her tight, kissing her forehead. “No, but I do intend to hold you, Mrs. Cartwright. All night long.”

Chapter Nine

The next day, Matt rode back to Williamsville, Dave Waters by her side.

As much as she wanted to be irked at Logan for sending a babysitter with her, she couldn’t. Not after last night. Every bounce of Turk’s saddle had her harking back to the ways her husband had touched her. Where and how. She had no idea a man could share so much with his wife, without actually bedding her. Her legs still ached, as did other body parts. Wicked parts.

To top it all, he had indeed held her all night, just like he had the previous night. She discovered that waking in his arms was a most wondrous sensation. Being surrounded by his strength and scent was something she could easily get used to. For as long as she stayed, that is.

The thought of leaving sliced her heart. She spurred Turk to a faster gait in the hopes of outrunning her despair. And confusion.

Everything had been so simple before her father died. She would go to Kansas City and leave Indian Territory in the dust. Escaping the prairie was all she could ever remember wanting. It had consumed every waking, and dreaming, moment. Now she wasn’t so sure she wanted to go. Because she wasn’t so sure she wanted to leave Logan.

Logan. Her husband, with his gray eyes and easy smile. He’d given so much to her, far more than her own father. Her name was on the ranch deed, same as his. He didn’t have to do that, so why did he? Just to be nice? Why would he do that? She knew—
knew
—down to her boots that Logan only married her to get the ranch. Or had he?

The word love filtered through her head. Did Logan love her? Did she love him? How would she know if she did? She didn’t know what loving a person felt like. But if it was anything like the empty void in her chest every time she thought about being without him, maybe she did love him.

At the emporium, they dismounted. Dave followed her up the steps, but she stopped him at the door. She didn’t need, and definitely did not want, the little man witnessing her purchases. “Why don’t you go and get a drink? I might be a while with Mrs. Upton.”

Dave’s longing gaze tracked down the street to the saloon. He looked back at her and puffed out his chest. “Logan told me to ride with you.”

“And you did. I can’t imagine he meant for you to stand by as I haggled with Mrs. Upton over the new Mark Twain book.”

“Well…” Dave cast another pining look at the saloon. “If you’re sure.”

“I am. Now go. I’ll fetch you when I’m ready to leave.”

It wasn’t until Dave was through the swinging doors that she entered Upton’s Emporium. The familiar bell tinkled at her entrance, but the usual bustle was missing from the store. She also didn’t see either Mr. or Mrs. Upton. She did, however, see Daisy behind the counter, counting the black licorice sticks in an oversized jar. One of Daisy’s friends from the day before leaned her elbows on the counter, a piece of licorice candy in her mouth, looking very bored.

Matt inhaled a breath then made her way across the store. “Excuse me. Is your mother around?”

Daisy scowled. “Does it look like she’s around?” She went back to her counting task.

“Could you tell me when you expect her back?”

“Now I’ve lost count,” Daisy complained, casting Matt a withering glare. “I’ll have to start all over.”

“When is your mother coming back to the store?”

“She’s gone for the day. She didn’t feel well.”