WildOutlaws (8 page)

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Authors: Destiny Blaine

Tags: #Destiny Blaine,Western Historical,erotic romance,ménage,Wild Outlaws

BOOK: WildOutlaws
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“You came by this decision when? Before or after you kissed me?”

“I spotted you from the moment I entered the saloon.” He cleared his throat. “I wanted you then.”

She remembered that dark and distant look in his eyes. She also recalled thinking he probably led a group of renegades. Then, she’d seen Creed enter the room and he’d stood out as leader. That is, until she met Tuff.

“Is Tuff your boss?”

He chuckled. “No.”

“What about Creed?”

“I’d follow him about as far as an outhouse.”

“Who do you work for?”

“Myself and whoever hires me and the fellas.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of the killing?”

He released her hand. A blank expression washed over his face. “We need to get back.” It was all he said before he stepped away.

“No,” Mary Margaret said, sliding away from her saddle and landing right in front of him. “This is not how you get along with a woman. You don’t avoid the difficult questions in hopes she won’t ask them again. You don’t dismiss her when she wants to know something you find too tough to explain. Women can be great companions. They can be your greatest strength but only if you’re smart enough to let one in. Are you?”

David took a deep breath. He leaned over and gently stroked her cheek. “They can also be a man’s greatest weakness.”

“Don’t avoid the question. Women can’t stand it when a man believes he can change the subject and all will be forgotten.” A beat later, she asked, “Are you, David? Are you capable of letting a woman into your life?”

“You tell me.”

“I think you are,” she said forcing a smile. Turning back to her mount, she lifted her knee and awaited a leg-up. Instead of offering assistance, David clasped her forearm and forced her to face him.

“I get tired of the killing. I’m tired of hunting humans, tracking other people like a bloodhound but it’s what I do. I make out all right with my choices because I’m standing on the right side of the law. I don’t take a job when there’s doubt about a man’s innocence. If there isn’t an eye witness or a trail of crimes, I don’t collect a bounty because I don’t look for the man who assures I’m paid if he’s caught.”

“Do you sleep at night?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I don’t,” she confessed. “Sometimes after the deed is over, a man will tell me about his wife and children. It’s the kind of conversation another woman doesn’t want to hear, even though women in town might think otherwise. I don’t take pleasure in knowing one man goes from my bed straight home to a wife believing he remains true to his vows. If I know beforehand, I don’t service him.”

“Is that the truth?” he asked, narrowing his gaze.

“Yes, David. It is. But it wasn’t always.”

“And that’s why you can’t sleep at night?”

“No, I don’t rest because I know what I am. The money you earn has blood on it. The money in my pocket is tainted as well.”

He nodded slightly. Then he surprised her by asking for permission she’d never granted before as a whore. “Would you mind if I kissed you again?”

She moistened her lips. “I’d be honored, Mr. Manson.”

“If you call me Mr. Manson again, I may have to spank you.”

She shrugged her right shoulder. “You never know I might like it.”

“I think you would.”

“I think you’re right,” she said, waiting for him to take the lead.

David placed the palms of his hands on either side of her face. He drew her to him, dropping the sweetest and lightest pecks on her lips before devouring her mouth like a hungry man in search of a satisfying kiss with a promise of much more.

His tongue slid across hers, back and forth, as he made love to her mouth like she longed to feel him making love to her body. And since when had she thought of sex as making love? She wondered if she’d ever considered the act as anything more than hardcore fucking and frolicking.

The kiss turned spicy. The passion kicked up a notch. Still, he kept them separated by the way he held her face. His lips skimmed across hers and he kissed her cheek and ear, his lips gliding down her neck before he growled and stopped himself cold, without a preamble to warn or without returning to his original starting place.

“You are an excellent teacher, Mary Margaret,” he said softly. His eyes were hooded and the two-day growth of beard made him look sexier than when he’d first appeared at the Cripple Creek Saloon.

“I can’t take credit here,” she said.

“Sure you can,” he told her, bringing her hand to his lips. “That kiss was sensational.”

“You’re pretty easy on the lips.”

“You’re pretty easy on the eyes,” he remarked.

She swallowed hard. As much as she tried to defy the building lust, the yearning was there. Desire existed. It was all consuming and as hard as she tried, she couldn’t resist him. And she knew it.

Turning her back to him, she reached for her reins. His hands covered hers and he stood behind her, his body heat so hot and enticing she rubbed against him, her bottom bumping against his erection.

David grabbed her hips and thrust behind her, his hard length nearly penetrating straight through the clothing designed to separate them. There was enough material there anyway. Layers upon layers to shed, rip apart.

“Let me Mary Margaret,” he pleaded. His hands were at her breasts. He fondled the buttons, working for access. “Don’t say no.”

She shook her head then bowed it, watching as his fingers allowed her freedom, observing how her nipples spiked in the cool October air. He reached inside her blouse and pinched her nipple, rolling the point until she cried out, moaned, and shivered.

Still, she didn’t face him. She wanted what they could have like this, without restrictions, without anything to stop them from embracing their desires as they were theirs to own.

His hands fell to her sides and he stripped away her pants. As quickly as hers were around her ankles, his britches were balled at his feet. The length of his dick pressed against her hip and she whimpered as he dragged the crest to her bottom, sipping her earlobe as he popped the question, “Will you let me take you here?”

His finger caressed her crack and then disappeared between her globes, twirling seconds later around the puckered rim of her asshole.

She quivered under his touch. “Yes. Oh God, yes!”

“Will you like it?” he asked, a guttural pitch to his voice.

“Yes,” she grated out, holding her breath as his finger probed and invaded.

“Mmm,” he muttered, sliding the erect digit in and out. “You’re so dry, Mary Margaret. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’ll never hurt me,” she said, suddenly transformed into the whore ready to self-preserve.

Oh God, she didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want David to see this woman. They were enjoying one another and yet, here she was, putting up barriers, stacking up walls.

“I’ll never try,” he assured her, licking her nape, whispering across her shoulder blades.

She stilled against him and he immediately stopped. Withdrawing his finger, he gripped her side and forced her to turn. Stark determination marked its place in his eyes. “I want you to see me take you.”

He lifted her to him and thrust inside her in one sudden jolt. And it was pure and exquisite ecstasy from the very beginning. Stroke for stroke, thrust for thrust.

Chapter Six

“Oh dear God, Mary Margaret,” he crooned, stuffing his length inside her hot pussy. Holding still for three or four glorious seconds, he searched her eyes looking for a glimpse of what she certainly must’ve felt from the moment he entered her.

A strong woman stared back at him, a woman unwilling to unlock her heart and give him a glimpse of the passionate person she had the ability to become with the right man…him.

Draping her arms over his shoulders, she threw her head back and he devoured her neck, kissing down her trunk until his mouth reached those full mounds. He nipped at one nipple, carried on with the other then moved upward again, kissing her elegant chest and long, exquisite neck before claiming her lips all over again.

Her tongue met his and a fiery kiss transpired. She fed his strength, managed his lust, and gained his love in that one moment, in that one damning minute.

He fucked her harder, each stroke going deeper than the last, each thrust delivering more than the one before. Her pussy clenched around his length and her body welcomed his as his cock thrummed inside her hot cunt, twitching up and down as her tight pussy milked his cock, drawing him closer and closer to release.

“Stop,” he said, breathless.

She locked her legs tighter around his middle. “No. Take it. Grab hold of what you need.”

He took her hips. A stinging vibration ripped through his balls. “Fuck!”

“Yes,” she whispered. “That’s right, lover. Fuck me, David.”

And hearing those words fall from a woman’s lips may have been a man’s undoing. He was no longer able to stand. He released her for a moment. Pure hell and damnation played havoc on his cock as he slid away from her body. He started to reach for the blanket rolled behind the saddle but she stopped him.

After they both completely removed their pants, she took him by the hand and led him to the small gated area marked by an elevated plaque describing the memorials in the gardens there. Stretching over the flat surface, she shivered against the cold. He eyed her outstretched body, staring at her hands, so dainty and pale. Rather than focus on the beauty he found in her slender fingers or in the scenery around them, he lowered himself and immediately entered her again.

He wasn’t just hungry for more. He was starving for complete satisfaction.

He spread her cheeks and penetrated her completely, careful not to rip into her as she allowed him access to a hidden place, a forbidden entrance he was certain he’d never have the opportunity to enjoy again. This time, he took what was his to have, what she offered and willingly gave.

“Ah, David, this is so delicious,” she whispered.

Her hips rocked with his strokes, meeting him with turbulent passion as he entered and retreated. Grinding against her, he sank his cock between her luscious orbs, claiming that tight, fitted space.  

“Forgive me, Mary Margaret,” he rasped, slapping her ass with his bare hand.

She cried out and to his complete surprise, immediately begged for more. He smacked her taut skin again, watching as his handprint took form and then began to fade.

Rubbing her ass, he stroked the tiny hole, careful to remind himself of the cautious way he should invade her. But then she reached under her body and he wasn’t just lost, he was forever blown away.

* * * *

Mary Margaret hadn’t intended to have sex. She certainly hadn’t planned on allowing him to invade her anally.

Then again, this was David. And she and David had a connection that was rare. She’d felt it from the first time they’d kissed.

He entered her slowly, taking his own sweet time with rhythmic strokes, practically caressing her with his dick, that thickness rubbing against her until she was sensitized and filled with the sudden need to come.

Dropping her hand between her legs, she played with her clit, toying with the little button. She let him have her ass, encouraged him to take her harder as she threw her hips forward and back. She rolled with his intimate punches, hoping for speed, dying to hear him call out her name as he spilled his release inside her.

“More,” she crooned, turning her head. Catching a glimpse of him, she was shocked when he roughly grabbed her chin and dropped a peck on her lips.

“Don’t let me hurt you,” he whispered across her cheek, giving her another light kiss upon the lips.

“I want you to find pleasure,” she told him, reaching lower, touching his balls and squeezing the skin, lightly pinching the area at the base of his stalk.

“Oh my God, Mary Margaret! Stop! You’ll make me come!”

“Then come, lover,” she crooned. Then, she stuffed her fingers inside her pussy and accommodated David as she worked for her own satisfaction as well.

“Now,” he breathed a few seconds later.

Her hot juices spilled across her fingers and she screamed out in ecstasy. “Yes, David! Yes! Now!”

“Fuck me, Mary Margaret. Sin with me, doll,” he crooned. “Come undone in my arms.”

She shoved her limbs forward then, her second release coming forward and much stronger than the first. She gripped the cold stone as he clutched her hips and thrust between her cheeks.

Her asshole barely accommodated his size. Pulsing around the width, the burning became exquisitely painful and yet the pleasure was like nothing she’d ever known before. His screwing became broken. The intimate beat changed as swiftly as a tune might quicken under the orchestration of a new drummer.

“Come, doll! Keep coming for me!”

God in heaven knew she would. They possessed chemistry and she would remain in his arms for as long as he allowed her to stay there.

He fell across her back as his cock twitched inside her. He stilled against her and she enjoyed the intimacy of how he laid there stroking her back with the pads of his fingers, dragging the digits up and down as he caressed her, pampered her.

“How perfect,” he said softly.

“Yes,” she agreed, staring out over the cemetery. It was also morbid. And she wondered then what kind of woman could take a man in the wide open country in the very spot where she’d recently buried her friend.

She saw Annabelle’s grave, located about twenty feet away, and shuddered as she thought of the answer she didn’t want to acknowledge.

A whore. That was the kind of woman who fucked in their situation and in that particular location. Apparently, a whore was precisely what David and the others wanted, too.

Well, at least she still knew what she was and where she stood. She wouldn’t have any great expectations for anything else.

Chapter Seven

The trip home took forever. As Tuff predicted, they ran into a snowstorm. David reached over at one point and took her reins, his big icy gloves covering her hands.

“I can’t see the trail!” she screamed, the cold ripping through the clothing that no longer protected her.

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