Runaway, page 14
Her breasts, uncovered, rounded and full, lured him and he watched as his long, tanned and callused fingers brushed against the pale flesh. He smiled as she shivered, and reveled in her soft intake of breath. His palm fit beneath one breast, and it molded to the curve of his hand. Ripe and firm, it was barely contained by his grasp, and he shifted his gentle hold until his index finger and thumb tested the small crumpled bit of flesh he’d yearned to possess. It tightened beneath his touch and he bent to brush the tip of his tongue against the textured crest. Carefully his mouth took it within its depths, and he suckled it gently against his tongue, tugging it deeper.
Cassie looked down at herself, to where that clever mouth loved her with such thorough care. “I can hardly hold still, Will.” Her voice was high, whimpering as she lifted her head from the pillow.
“Wiggle if you want to, honey. There’s only you and me here, and I suspect I’d enjoy your wiggles more than I can tell you.” His words were muffled against her flesh, and then he released her to lift himself higher, his skin sliding across the curves of her breasts.
She let out her breath slowly, her breasts tingling from the rough texture of hair and firm muscle. They felt swollen, pulsing with a need she began to recognize, and she rose against him, craving a closer contact with his body that her gown would not allow.
It was twisted and tangled around her bottom, and he rose to his knees over her, his hands careful lest he tear the fragile stuff as he stripped it from her. “Ah, Cassie…” His gaze traveled her length as he knelt between her thighs. “Don’t move,” he said, his voice raspy as he sat back on his heels. “Just let me touch you, baby.”
She held her breath as his fingers spread to span the width of her belly, his thumb caressing the shallow dip of her belly button. A flash of warmth seared her at his touch and she flinched, then eased back to test the small pleasure of his knowing caress. He smiled down at her, the pad of his thumb moving in a circular fashion, and she shifted, her hips rising.
His hands moved upward, and her flesh tingled at the brush of callused fingers. And then she felt twin sensations of pleasure as he enclosed each breast with a wide hand, brushing the tender peaks with his fingers, squeezing and tugging, watching with a rapt expression on his face.
“You’re blooming right in front of my eyes, Cass,” he whispered, those dark orbs barely visible beneath his lowered lashes.
She felt a flush of delight warm her flesh as he bent to suckle, first at one breast then the other, the drawing and tugging of his mouth bringing to life a new, curling need in the depths of her belly. Her hips rose, that secret place where her thighs joined brushed against him, and she jolted with the sensation as his body rubbed gently against her.
Rising above her again, he molded her flesh, his hands firm against her breasts, her waist, squeezing the fullness of her hips and then grasping with gentle strength the tops of her legs. He lifted them, draping her over his thighs until she was vulnerable to his touch, his gaze intent on her face, as if he would gauge her willingness.
Then his index finger traced the folds of flesh he had exposed, and she flinched. He hesitated for just a moment until she softened once more, moving, shifting beneath his seeking hand.
That she would allow such intimacies was beyond her wildest imaginings. That her modesty would fall so easily before Will’s coaxings was unbelievable. Yet, knowing in her heart of hearts that Will Tolliver would bring her only what was right and good in this marriage bed, she allowed whatever he willed to happen.
The lure of her submission was almost his undoing as, warm and damp, her woman’s flesh opened to him, and he swallowed a groan of frustration. And then Cassie’s eyelids rose and she smiled, a tempting turn of her mouth, a twitch of her pursed lips, then a glimpse of white teeth as she regarded him in the light shed by the moon outside the window.
“Will…You make me feel…”
“What, Cassie? How do you feel?” The words growled from his throat and he eased forward just a bit, shivering as hard flesh touched soft woman.
Her eyes widened. “Don’t hurt me.” Her whisper was breathless and he swallowed, holding himself still, fighting the urge to bury himself within her depths.
“I’m afraid there’s not much either of us can do about it, sweetheart,” he said sadly, torn between the knowledge that he would surely tear her tender flesh and the terrible need to do that very thing.
“Hold on to me, baby.” The admonition was delivered between gritted teeth and he bent over her, waiting until she lifted her arms to surround his shoulders. His body shifted, one hand guiding his arousal as he pressed carefully, invading the untried flesh.
Her hands were frantic as she clutched at him, her head twisting against the pillow, and he held his breath, shuddering as he pushed within her. The fragile barrier gave way and he groaned, fearful of the pain he visited upon her virgin body.
“It burns,” she whispered, gasping as her inner muscles clamped against his length.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he muttered, his words broken as he caught deep breaths. Great shudders racked his frame as he resisted the urge to thrust, and he moved with deliberate care as he penetrated that heretofore forbidden place within her.
He flinched at hurting her, and yet she reached for him again, her arms circling his waist, pulling him closer, as though she must comfort him, assure him of her forgiveness.
“Cassie!” He called her name in a sharp, expectant tone, drawing her with him, as if they journeyed a path he hesitated to take alone, and she nodded, her eyes meeting his in the dim light.
For long seconds, while Will moved against her with careful yet eager thrusts, she held him, fingers spread wide across his back, blending their bodies as she would their souls. Her mouth open against his shoulder, her tears hot against his skin, she clung, wrapping herself in the sanctuary his body provided.
Despite her inexperience, she knew that Will had made her his wife. Knew that all of the kissing, the touching, the words of praise he’d whispered against her flesh had only been the beginning. That at this moment, when she held his manhood within her, she’d become a woman, a part of the man she had married.
Will stood at the window, just out of the path of moonlight, his guilt weighing heavily. His glance at the bed did nothing to relieve his tension. The sight of Cassie, tearstains gleaming against her cheeks as she slept, was like a sword in his heart.
He’d tried to hold back, his teeth still aching from the endeavor. And yet he’d hurt her. The towel he’d had the good sense to scoop from the floor held bright splotches of her blood, and he’d found another to spread beneath her, lest the sheets bear stains that would expose the lie he’d lived for the past week.
If Cassie ever let him near her again, it would be a miracle. She’d been so small and he was so dang big, and it had been longer than he could remember since he’d found release in a woman’s body. Now there wasn’t another female alive in his memory, only the soft cries and whispers of his wife filling those spaces in his mind.
He’d botched it. Worse than that, he’d probably scared her off for good. His groan was heartfelt, audible in the silence of the night.
“Will?” She called him from the bed and he stood erect, turning a bit to shield her from the sight of his flagrant arousal. Thinking of her had brought him to a full, brazen readiness, and he shook his head at the evidence of his masculine need.
“Will…come here. I feel awfully alone in this bed.”
He squinted at her in the moonlight, the tearstains still apparent against her cheeks. Yet there was about her a gleaming radiance that owed little to the glow shed by the moon outside the window. She reached a hand to him and he uttered a low sound, a blend of petition and thanks.
“Cassie.” Somehow he’d reached the bed. Someway he’d managed to enclose her in his arms and, wonder of wonders, she was clinging to him and spending rash kisses over his face.
“Will, I woke up and you were gone.” Her voice caught in her throat. “I thought you were upset with me…because I cried.”
He rocked her, leaning to brush his jaw against her hair, grasping a handful to expose the beautiful woman he’d had the intelligence to marry today. After all the mistakes he’d made in his life, he’d finally done one thing right.
“Oh, baby! I felt so bad when I hurt you. I tried not to, but you’re so damn little.” He covered her face with kisses, as if he could mend his fences with an abundance of loving. And then felt the smile she could not hide.
“I’m really your wife, aren’t I, Will?” she asked wonderingly.
“Yeah, you sure are, Cass,” he agreed, his spirits lifting as he absorbed the happiness she made no attempt to hide.
“Will it hurt as much the next time?” She shivered as she awaited his reply, as if the memory of her pain was too fresh to be ignored.
“I’m surprised you’re willin’ to talk about a next time, honey,” he whispered, pulling back from her as his arousal made itself known against her thigh.
She smiled, lifting her arms to encircle his neck. “I can’t help but notice that you’re ready to try it again, Will.”
“Not tonight, honey. You’ve done enough bleeding for this time. I’m feelin’ like the world’s biggest ignoramus as it is.”
“Oh, Will, don’t feel that way,” she whispered, her hands enclosing his face, her forehead wrinkled with worry lines. “I’m glad you’re big. It makes me feel safe and secure.”
“We’re talkin’ about different kinds of big here, Cassie,” he told her. “The part of me I’m talkin’ about is the thing that caused you all the pain.”
“Pooh!” Her whispered exclamation was accompanied by a swat of her hand against his shoulder. “It felt good, Will. Before the pain, I mean. If it hurt every time, I’d still want to do it with you.” She paused and tilted her head, her eyes narrowing a bit. “Well, maybe if it just hurt a little.”
“I don’t think it will, honey. Once you heal up for a day or so, it’ll be all right.”
She snuggled against him and he drew a quick breath. “You’d better not be twitchin’ like that, Cass,” he warned her darkly. “I’m havin’ a hard time here.”
She giggled against his chest. “I noticed, Will Tolliver. To tell the truth, I couldn’t help but notice.”
His thrifty heart rebelled as he burned the bloody towel. He’d stuffed it inside his shirt, wearing his jacket to cover the bulge until he got to the barn. Out back, near the manure pile, he lit the corner of the stained length of cotton and watched as the dried blood evaporated in the flame. No way was he going to let his mother catch sight of this proof of Cassie’s innocence.
If ever a virgin had walked this earth, it was his bride. Although this morning she wasn’t walking too well. She was stepping pretty gingerly, moving a little more slowly than usual. But the warmth in her eyes and the smile she’d bestowed upon him as he’d left the kitchen soothed his guilt, leaving behind only a glow that smacked of masculine pride.
There was no mistaking the happiness she wore like a Sunday-go-to-meeting dress this morning.
Chapter Eleven
All the things she’d never done in her life—the gardening, the tending to a child like Maggie, the long hours spent with Will’s mother learning how to run a house—added up to a perfection Cassie had not dreamed of. If for no other reason than this, this life he had given her, she would give her life for Will Tolliver.
And after all, he did not ask her to give her life, only her body into his keeping. She had done so gladly. The pain of her wedding night put aside, she chose only to remember Will’s tenderness.
For the next two nights he held her while he spoke of his plans for the farm, the horses and their life together. Spending countless kisses upon her countenance, his hands deft and cautious against her skin, soothing and caressing, he pampered and caressed her without any comfort for himself that she could see.
The third night found the blue gown once more spread across the bed and she heard Will asking in a low, strained voice if she would please wear it again.
She nodded, scooping it up and slipping behind the dressing screen. It was still too short, but Will didn’t seem to mind. Watching her from the depths of their bed, he lifted the covers and she accepted his wordless invitation. Settling next to him, she glanced at the candle he’d left burning on the table beside the bed.
“Are you going to blow it out?” The light shed from the single taper left his face in shadow and she searched his features, wondering at the whimsical smile he wore, while his eyes were strangely watchful and heavy lidded.
“Tonight I want to see you in candlelight, Cassie. I settled for moonlight the last time. But I promised myself that next time I’d—”
“Next time?”
“I thought it was time to try again, Cass. If I have to coax you into this, I will, but I figured you were pretty well healed up by now. If it turns out you’re not, we’ll wait a while longer.”
She nodded. At least he wasn’t ready to give up on her. And she blurted out the words even as they came to mind.
His surprise was evident and his eyes softened in the candlelight. “Give up on you? Ah, sweetheart, I’m the one who made a mess of things, hurting you the way I did.”
“Most of it was good, except I didn’t know for sure what was going to happen,” she whispered.
Will tilted his head a bit, his forehead touching hers, and he closed his eyes. “I should have known to explain things to you, Cassie. I’ll try to do better this time.”
She moved a bit closer, breathing words she could not speak without closing her eyes. “I like the kissing best, Will. And the part when you touched my…”
“When I touched your breast, Cassie?”
“Yes…” she whispered.
“Let’s try the kissing first, honey,” he whispered, his mouth fitting against hers with care, only the impudent tip of his tongue coaxing her into a more intimate touching. She responded hesitantly, beguiled by the moist temptation.
As if he had only waited for that invitation, as if she had opened to him the riches of a thousand gold mines, he took her with greedy strokes of his tongue. Rising over her, he rolled her to her back, tempering his eagerness as he sampled the taste of her desire.
Her mouth opened to his, her hands clutching at his shoulders as his hand slid to take possession of her breast. One nimble finger circled the pouting, hard crest and she shivered at the thread of delight that pierced her.
“Like this?” His hand beneath the gown, he squeezed gently. Then, with a mutter of impatience, he disposed of her gown, and his head bent to savor the lush curves he’d uncovered, his lips tasting the firm flesh.
It was a whirlwind, this sensation he offered, the tugging of his mouth, the bathing of his tongue, the urgent pressure of his manhood against her thigh. His hands were coaxing her, the gentle caress of his fingers skimming her flesh, molding, urging her compliance and offering an abundance of delight.
She closed her eyes, her head tilting back against the pillow as he wooed her, his big hands gentle against her skin. Her mouth opened, sounds she barely recognized as her own whispering in the silence of the night. And then in a shivering, shuddering burst of pleasure, one whose existence she had never suspected, he banished from her mind the pain she had thought to endure once more. Her body shimmering with an encompassing delight, she lifted her hips, offering herself to him.
His words of praise rang in her ears as she clasped him to her, urging him closer until he fit their bodies together with gentle care. And as he led her to a knowledge of her own passion, she gave herself into his keeping.
“One flesh,” he whispered. “That’s what this means, Cassie.” He lifted himself from her, and in the dim light he looked solemn, his mouth unsmiling, his eyes dark with a desire she had come to recognize. “I’m a part of you, Cassie. This is what makes us man and wife.”
He hovered over her and she held him within her embrace, her arms clasping him with a strength fed by the blazing need to cherish this man forever. “I love you, Will,” she said, her words fiercely spoken, as if she defied him to deny her claim.
“Ah, Cassie.” He bent to her, catching his weight on his forearms, his hands cupping her face. His mouth caressed hers, his lips soft, the urgency held in abeyance as he accepted the words she uttered. He lifted his head, his eyes seeking hers. “Am I hurting you, sweetheart?”
“No…” A sense of surprise colored the single word and she repeated it, more firmly.
His lips tightened, the ruddy color across his cheekbones drawing her gaze as he closed his eyes and moved against her once more. He ducked his head then, his jaw tense, his big frame lifting, withdrawing slowly, and then seeking the shelter of her body again. His movements were measured and deliberate, and she rose to him, meeting his urgent rhythm.
“Cassie!” Her name became a primitive growl of satisfaction as he whispered it twice, then again, finally surging against her in a shuddering burst of pleasure.
The tidy rows of beans and carrots were a testimony to her newfound skill. Corn was better planted in the field west of the near pasture, Clara told her, but the kitchen garden had room for more food than they would want to face, come late summer. Cassie delighted in the daily survey of the fenced-in patch near the back porch.
Even the chore of weeding was a source of contentment Maggie chattering nearby, the warm sunshine overhead and the feel of garden dirt beneath her fingertips allowed her a sense of usefulness. Will’s need of her was a celebration, filling her with the joy of being a wife. Working with Clara in the house and the garden was a different sort of satisfaction. She was doing her share, making a home and carrying part of the burden of running the farm.
The sound of horses from the corral caught her ear and she tilted her head, listening for Will’s voice. He’d warned her at breakfast to keep Maggie from the barn today and she’d agreed readily. Perhaps she’d do well to take the child inside the house. Whatever Will had in mind, he’d been pretty specific.
