Authors: Vanessa Vale
LIAM
Charlotte's full mouth fell open and it had me thinking about how those lips would feel around my cock. Her surprise at my words had my mouth quirking up in a small smile. I'd known she'd be stunned by my statement. She could be nothing else. I'd been watching her these past few months since Richard had been killed, ensuring her safety and welfare. The list of men who wanted her for a bride was longer than fingers on my hands, but I'd let it be known around town she was not to be touched. My word held weight in Collins, although some men didn't give a fuck and continued to speak ill of Charlotte. They'd been systematically removed from their jobs and kicked out of town, one by one.
Charlotte belonged to me, ever since the moment the mine walls collapsed on my two friends, Richard and Aaron, as well as three others. Several of us had made a pact the year before, even before either man had married, that our future wives would be seen to in case of death. It had been done half in jest as we'd all felt invincible, and half out of inebriation.
In the time I'd guarded Charlotte from afar, ensuring she was safe walking without an escort, that no man approached her, that the ladies of the church continued to provide her meals, I'd had ample opportunity to watch her. To
look
at her. She was quite lovely. Her hair was pale with red hints, the color of summer strawberries. It was wavy and untamed, even when she pinned it into submission and wore a hat. Her mouth rarely formed a smile, yet she radiated vitality and life. Her body was small, so petite and at odds to my large size. Dainty. Fragile. Fuckable.
Her waist was narrow, her breasts full and high, her hips flared wide and I couldn't resist as I followed her watching the sway of her ass. She was alluring and made my cock hard, even in her demure and modest dresses. Her wardrobe was small, meager even, and knew by keeping her close that she managed on the remainder of her dead husband's savings by scrimping. Richard hadn't been poor, but money went quickly even in the Montana Territory. And so Richard had ensured her to me.
"M...marry me?" She stumbled back a step. Her eyes narrowed and her lips formed a thin line. "You need to leave." She looked to the floor as if the sight of me bothered her. "I've had many an offer, but none such as this. I assure you I will be out of the house and it will be yours."
I paused, listened to her terse, angry words. "You believe I wish to marry you because of the money you owe to the bank?"
She crossed her arms over her breasts in a gesture that was supposed to have her appear guarded and reserved. It did quite the opposite; it pointed out to me the fullness of her bosom and how they'd be more than a handful cupped in my palms.
Instead of responding to me, she just looked at me with chilly disdain.
"I promise you, I do
not
need payment from my bride."
"I've married once to be
taken care of,
" she replied tersely. "I do not intend to marry again for such a reason."
"You have no money. You are taking in sewing work that will not support you, even meagerly. The ladies of the church have been providing you meals." I clenched my jaw as I said the last. "The men have been eyeing you, although hopefully that has tapered."
She eyed me suspiciously, then awareness dawned, her pale eyes widening. "It was you. All of it." She took a deep breath, pointed her finger at my chest. Poked it. "You had Mrs. Adams approach me with the sewing. You had the women provide me with food. You steered the men away from me. What did you do, drive them out of town?"
"Yes," I answered plainly. I'd taken whatever action was required to keep her safe.
"You've been following me, watching me. For months." Color bloomed in her cheeks, her eyes alight with her anger. She was more beautiful than ever riled as she was. "Why?"
"I promised Richard I would take care of his wife if something ever happened to him." It was an agreement we'd made and I didn't intend to back out of it. I'd kept my distance while they were wed, for she was his, but his untimely death had changed that.
"You've been doing that quite well so far, so why marry me? Isn't that extreme?"
"As I said, I promised him I'd take care of his wife. This pact came before you'd married, before he even knew you were to be his. I could continue to do so as agreed, keeping you safe from afar, however, I
want
to marry. I want to marry
you.
"
My words gave her pause. She blinked several times as if trying to assimilate. "Me?"
"When Richard brought you to town, just wed, it was obvious it was not a love match. The way you interacted, the way he spoke of you with fondness, but only that, was indication to this."
Her honey colored brows rose. "Are you saying it would be different between us?"
I took a step toward her, took hold of her upper arms. Her floral scent swirled up around us and intoxicated me. I had to make her see reason, and now. I was at the very end of my tether, as if the strings had slowly unraveled, one by one, ever since Richard's death. Touching her, even innocently, for the first time, had my control, my patience snap. "I'm not marrying you to save you."
"Then why?"
"Because I want to fuck you."
She gasped and tried to pull from my hold, but I wouldn't release her. I leaned forward so I was at eye level with her.
"Because I've wanted you ever since the first time I met you. I want to learn what makes you hot, to hear the sounds you make when you come. To wake up next to you in the morning and pull you in close. To know your fingers aren't pricked and calloused from overwork. To remove the frown of worry on your brow." I lifted my hand and brushed my thumb over the little crease between her eyes. "To fill your belly with my seed and make a baby."
Her cheeks turned a deep scarlet, and I watched her pupils dilate, the pale color all but disappearing. She was not unaffected. Her gaze roved over my face, met and held mine. "If you truly wanted me, you would not say such things," she hissed, looking at me with disdain.
I shook my head. "No. Only a man who truly wants would tell a woman such."
"You speak as if I'm a whore you've purchased for the hour."
I ran a hand through my hair. What an exasperating woman! I wanted to prove to her the passion I knew would be between us, but I would not touch her in such a way until we were wed. "You might think that, but I would never treat you as such. I might fuck you hard, to claim you in ways you've never imagined, but it would be between a man and a wife. My intentions, however impure, are honorable."
When she only continued to look at me, more confused now than angry, I continued. "Have I done anything untoward to make you think otherwise?"
Instead of answering my question, she asked one of her own. "If you wanted me so much, why did you wait so long?" She gestured wildly with her hands. "It's been months since Richard died." She tugged against my hold, and this time, I let her go. She turned away from me, her light hair glinting in the light through the window. My fingers itched to tug the pins out, watch the thick tresses fall over her shoulders and down her back.
"I needed to be sure you didn't mourn." She glanced at me over her shoulder. "No, don't look like that. You should feel no shame that your heart does not bleed for him. You were only married six weeks and practically strangers." Her gaze had dropped to the floor. "I know you feel it, too. What's between us."
She turned to face me fully, her mouth open in surprise. "How? But..."
I couldn't help but grin. "Your cheeks flush whenever you see me, your eyes brighten, your breathing accelerates."
She shook her head. "How can you know that?"
"Because I love looking at your breasts and the way they rise and fall when you are aroused."
"Liam," she whispered. The breathy way she said my name had my cock stirring.
It was only then that I knew, without any doubt, that I'd been correct. I wasn't Mr. Anderson any longer.
"Marry me, Charlotte. You're mine. You've been mine all along, you just didn't know it."
CHARLOTTE
Liam had the wedding well planned. The only challenge that he encountered was me. The minister had been waiting outside—he'd agreed to arrive at my house at a specific time—and pleased to perform the ceremony. It was possible Liam was afraid I'd change my mind if we took the time to make the journey across town to the church, for I most likely would have.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife," Minister Pick intoned, his smile broad.
Within a matter of thirty minutes, I'd gone from contemplating my eviction from my home, my inability to support myself and where I would need to move. Alone in the world. Now, Liam looked down at me with a pleased gleam in his eye, thrilled it seemed to claim me as his wife. It wasn't chilly in the room, but I shivered nonetheless. Liam was going to kiss me. His gaze dropped to my mouth as he lowered his head ever so slowly.
I held my breath as tingles of awareness went through me.
He was going to kiss me!
It wasn't my first kiss, but it felt as if it were. Before, kisses had been the mashing of two mouths, no feeling, no desire. Now, this, well...this was something else entirely. I felt hot all over. Just looking at Liam's full lips had my nipples tightening. How did that occur? And lower, between my thighs, I ached. Why now? Why with Liam and not Richard was I aroused?
It was when Liam's lips touched mine that I found my answer.
The soft, light touch was like a lightning bolt to my soul, the hairs on the nape of my neck rising, my heart leaping into my throat. I'd expected a mashing of mouths, but this...oh, this.
This
was almost carnal in its simplicity, just a slight brushing back and forth of his full lips against mine, then a kiss at the very corner, as if learning me. His tongue touched my lip and the hot, wet caress had me gasping not only in surprise, but in pleasure as well. Shifting his head, he deepened the kiss, his tongue plunging into my mouth to find mine.
It was over just as quickly as it had started, my eyelashes fluttering open to meet the bemused gaze of not only my new husband, but the minister as well. I flushed knowing my response to the kiss was anything but chaste.
Liam ushered the minister out the door with a handshake and a promise to attend his service the following Sunday. I could only nod my head in farewell, my brain too foggy to think clearly. Liam had addled my brain with just a kiss! I could only imagine what he'd do to me once he got his hands on me. My skin heated at the very proposition.
Once the door was closed, Liam turned and faced me. It was then I felt the full brunt of what had just occurred. I'd been aroused by a man I'd longed for from afar even while married to another. And now I belonged to him. The tears bubbled to the surface, like water from the nearby hot springs, and spilled down my cheeks.
"Ah, love, don't cry."
I held up my hand to keep him from approaching, but it was no good. He pulled me into his arms, his big hand cupping the back of my head and held me against his hard chest. I could hear the beat of his heart beneath my cheek, feel him plant a soft kiss on my forehead and reveled in his clean, male scent.
"I never knew I could want a woman as I do you. You've possessed me, Charlotte. If you still mourned Richard, I would have waited. If your heart remained with him, I would have protected you from afar. But through a sad turn of events, we both can have what we want.
Who
we want."
His words mimicked my own thoughts and that had me crying even harder. I was finally able to accept the truth, that even though Richard saved me from uncertainty when my brother died, that was all he'd done. Saved me. He never had my heart and I felt sadness at that. Wiping my tears away, I took deep breaths to stem the flow. I tilted my chin up to look at Liam.
"Am I all that bad?" This close I could see the dark whiskers on his jaw, his full lips, dark eyes filled with concern.
I shook my head. "It's...it's guilt." I swallowed. "I should have felt for Richard what I feel for you."
The look in his gaze shifted from worry to lust from one heartbeat to the next. My world spun as I was lifted up into his arms. Liam carried me into the bedroom and, even though we were alone, kicked the door shut behind him with his booted foot. He sat down on the single chair in the room with me upon his lap.
"Tell me about Richard first. Now, before anything else. I don't want another man in bed with us." He angled his head in that direction. "Even a dead one's memory."
Why did he have to be so considerate? It was as if he could read my very thoughts. "What...what do you want to know?"
"I assume your marriage was consummated."
I looked down at my hands in my lap, my cheeks heating, remembering that first time. Richard had been nervous, yet at the same time overly eager. He'd fumbled with my nightgown, pushing it up and over my hips to settle between my legs. It had been quick and painful, Richard's weight pinning me to the bed as he took me, falling asleep once he'd finished, his sticky seed mixed with my virgin blood on my thighs.
"Yes," I replied.
"What do you like?"
His question had me looking up at him. "What do you mean?"
"In bed. What makes you wet?"
I frowned, unsure how to answer. I liked many things and I wasn't familiar with his reference to being wet.
"Do you like having your nipples suckled? A man's head between your thighs? Being taken from behind? Your ass fucked?"
My mouth fell open at his crude words. The very ideas he'd suggested...I'd never known.
"Oh, um...well." I searched his face. He was being earnest. "I must admit that I have never...well." I didn't know what to say, never having a conversation such as this before.
"Never been fucked in the ass?"
"Most certainly not," I replied, straightening my spine.
Liam nodded thoughtfully. "We will change that someday soon. Did Richard take you from behind?"
"Um, no."
"Surely he pleasured you with his mouth."
I nodded. "He kissed me. Yes."
"On your pussy?"
"My...where?"
He searched my face as if the answers were written there, like chalk on a slate. "I see."
I didn't. I had no idea to what he spoke. I knew he spoke of acts that happened between a man and woman, but Richard had done nothing he mentioned, nor even tried. It was all fumbling hands and his...his man part being nudged, then thrust into me. It was over quickly, always with him groaning as if in pain, then slumping over me, pinning me in place. Nothing Liam mentioned had ever occurred. Richard hadn't even seen my breasts let alone my nipples. I hadn't wanted him to do so. I'd wanted the marriage act over and finished as quickly as possible.
"I am thankful to Richard for keeping you safe. For me. You should not feel guilty in your feelings. He was not the man for you, was he?"
I couldn't lie, but the truth hurt, like pricking my finger with a sewing needle. "No."
Liam lifted my chin with his finger, met my gaze with his piercing dark one. "I want you, Charlotte. The way a man wants a woman. Will you give yourself to me?"
"You're asking?" Richard hadn't, just rolled over on top of me, lifted my nightgown and took me.
"I won't force you. I know you feel it though. The pull, the need between us."
I did. Sitting on his lap, wrapped in the heat of his body, his solid muscles surrounding me, his scent enveloping my senses, I
wanted.
I wanted him on top of me, feeling his weight pressing me into the mattress, his hips settled in the cradle of my thighs, to feel his hard length, even now pressed against my hip, nudging my entrance. Filling me.
I nodded and slipped off his lap. Walking to the bed, I sat down and tugged off my boots, then pulled back the quilt and sheet and climbed beneath, sliding into the middle. I reached down and worked the long length of my dress up to my waist, then undid my drawers and worked them down my legs. Beneath the covers, I was naked from the waist down. All the while, Liam leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs and watched me. It was very disconcerting having a man look at me as I undressed, even doing so modestly beneath the protection of the quilt. I placed my white cotton drawers on top of the quilt, pulled the quilt up to my neck and said, "I'm ready."
Liam stood, his height and broad shoulders more pronounced from my prone position. I held my breath as he approached, my knuckles tightening on the quilt. I expected him to pull back the covers and climb on top of me. Instead, he sat with his back against the headboard, his long legs out in front of him, our bodies parallel. He looked down at me, so calm, so relaxed and tilted his chin. "Come here. Come sit in my lap."
"I thought..."
"We'll get there soon enough, but I do this a little differently."
My cheeks heated with embarrassment. Lowering the covers, I pushed down the bottom of my dress and came up to sit across his lap.
He shook his head. "Put your knees on either side of my hips."
Before I could understand his words, he grasped me about the waist and hoisted me into the air so I faced him and over his lap, giving me no choice to straddle his thighs as if riding a horse. My dress bunched up, but only my ankles and part of my calves showed and they were covered in my stockings. I lifted my gaze to meet his and discovered his face was only a few inches from mine. I could see a pale scar on the bridge of his nose, the dark depths of his eyes. Our breaths mingled.
"I don't know what to do," I whispered, studying him.
He gave the slightest shake of his head. "I do." The corner of his mouth turned up and I remembered our kiss and wanted more.
"Put your hands on my chest."
Glancing at him for a moment, I lowered my eyes to his torso. His chest filled out his shirt well, and from when I leaned against it earlier, felt hard and well muscled. Tentatively, I placed my hand on the white of his shirt, my fingers slipping beneath the dark jacket.
He leaned forward so our mouths almost touched. Why didn't he kiss me? I licked my lips, wanting to lean in the small distance that separated our mouths and taste him again.
"Slide the jacket off my shoulders."
Thankful he was giving me orders, I followed them, forgetting about how he tasted and let my hands slide beneath the jacket to push the material back and then down his arms before he tugged it free. I felt his strength, his power, beneath the glide of my hands. He leaned back against the headboard with his eyes on mine.
"My shirt next." His voice was a harsh rasp as if each word took effort.
I was removing his clothes, not mine, which was all well and good for me. It filled my eager curiosity to see Liam's body, to touch it, feel it,
learn
it, a need I hadn't known I had until just now. I'd seen Richard without a shirt, but this was not the same. It had been in passing, when he washed at the pitcher and ewer, even as he climbed into bed in his drawers. I'd felt it beneath my hands as he took me, but it was all rather clinical, as he'd never offered me an opportunity to explore him. Just as he'd never had interest in seeing me. He'd just wanted to put himself inside me, move in and out and then fill me with his seed. He'd been kind to me, but I was quickly learning he'd been negligent.
Liam, however, seemed to be the quite different. He was offering himself to me one layer at a time, patiently allowing me to fumble as I undid one button down his white shirt, then the next, exposing his hot skin and dark chest hair. It felt silky beneath the backs of my fingers and I hastened my motions, tugging the shirttails from his pants. He allowed me to part the shirt so I could look my fill, noting the dark, flat nipples, so different than my own. I couldn't resist and I ran my palms over them, making Liam hiss out a breath. I pulled my hands back, worried I'd hurt him.
He gently gripped my wrists, staying my retreat, then placed them back on his hot skin. "I've longed to have your hands on me. Don't stop."
"What should I do?" I asked imploringly. My ignorance in men was becoming vastly apparent. Richard would have been done by now and snoring beside me.
"Anything you want," he replied softly. His thumbs moved in small circles on the pulse points of my wrists.
"Can...can you take your shirt off?" I asked bravely.
Once again, he sat upright and tugged off his shirt, this time his motions a little more frantic. His eyes held mine the entire time, a wicked grin forming. As he leaned back, his knees came up and I slid into the cradle of his hips, his hard length pressing against my woman's core, only his pants and my dress separating us. I gasped at the contact and tried to shift up and off of him, afraid my weight would hurt him. My motions were stilled by Liam's hands on my hips and a slight shake of his head.
"Feel what you do to me?" His eyes had narrowed, his cheeks became ruddy at his growing arousal.
I nodded and bit my lip.
"My cock's been rock hard since the first time I saw you."