DangerousPassion (10 page)

“Now do you see how truly beautiful you are?” His hands were firm on her hips, holding her in place as he slid his cock back and forth between her thighs, rubbing his shaft intimately against her tingling pussy. “Now when you look in the mirror, do you see the sexy woman that I see?”

Sarah looked at her reflection. She recognized the lush beauty of her extravagantly rounded breasts, but she also saw the generous hips and thighs. Softly, honestly, she replied, “I’m trying to.” Old habits and deep insecurities could not be immediately banished. “But at least you believe I’m beautiful...and that’s all I really need to know.”

She looked at Derek’s reflection, seeing his damp hair pushed back from his forehead, the dazzling brown eyes, the nose that had perhaps been broken in his youth, the mouth that could kiss with such amazing skill, and speak such amazing words....

Derek said, “Tell me what you want. Tell me and I’ll make it happen.”

Sarah shook her head. “Tell me what you want. I’ll give you anything.” She shifted her hips, feeling the enormous length of Derek’s fiery cock between her thighs. “When I don’t have your cock inside me, I’m empty. I feel...incomplete.” Derek put his right hand to Sarah’s mouth, tracing her lips lightly with his fingertip as she spoke. “What can I do to make you happy?”

“You have the sexiest mouth,” he whispered.

Sarah knew, then, what she had to do, what she wanted to see. She turned slowly, but as she did, she never took her eyes away from the mirror. Reaching behind herself, she found Derek’s erection and wrapped her fingers around it. Then she sank slowly to her knees, with the mirror to her right, pulling Derek around so that he was standing in front of her. She leaned forward, her eyes on the mirror, watching herself as she began licking the crown of his erection. After several seconds, she captured the head between her lips and sucked tenderly upon it.

She saw herself, at that moment, as a separate woman, independent of the flesh-and-bone woman she had always envisioned. Sarah watched as her lips slid over the head of Derek’s cock, then saw her cheeks hollow as she drew a vacuum upon him. Turning her face slightly to have a better view of the mirror, she took Derek deeper into her mouth and trembled when her cheek swelled outward lewdly from his erection. It was a gaudy visual image of herself that played havoc with her senses, but seeing her own lips gliding along Derek’s cock only made her pussy hotter and wetter.

Nodding with increasing speed to take Derek’s hard man-flesh in and out of her mouth, Sarah watched as her breasts bounced and swayed, trembling and shaking with her exertions. She saw the line of her legs, folded neatly beneath her, and the glazed quality in her emerald green eyes as she studied herself giving the blowjob.

“Stand up,” Derek said, the words jarring to Sarah, who had been in a little fantasy world of her own making. In a harsh tone that would brook no resistance, he added, “Stand up and turn around.”

Had Derek said “Stand up and walk through fire” Sarah would have complied. Her brain was spinning dizzily, the surface of her skin itching; she could feel the throb of her own pulse in her pussy. She turned her back to him, and didn’t resist when he simultaneously grabbed her hip with one hand, then pushed forward on her shoulder with the other. A moment later she was bent at the waist with her hands on her legs, just above her knees.

“Watch,” Derek barked.

Sarah looked into the mirror. Her breasts, now pulled at by gravity, swayed away from her body, appearing even larger and fuller than they had earlier. She saw, too, Derek standing behind her, tall and lean, his cock sticking out from his loins like a lusty weapon. And then he guided his cock to her entrance, pausing only momentarily to rub the crown up and down over her labia.

“Watch me fuck you,” he whispered, also looking into the mirror.

Nothing in Sarah’s life prior to Derek’s entrance into it could prepare her for the visual and physical assault upon her senses when she felt his huge cock thrusting deep into her pussy while simultaneously watching it doing precisely that. She whispered something indecipherable that might have been “Oh, fuck!” and then started coming, her pussy contracting around the hard column of Derek’s flesh as waves of raw emotion shuddered through her.

For Sarah, there was nothing else in the world
¾
except Derek’s cock. Even as she began descending from the heights of her orgasm, she felt herself rising up again. The orgasm that she had just enjoyed was only a beginning. The ending was something that she could hardly fathom.

Through passion-glazed eyes, Sarah watched her breasts swaying beneath her as she rocked on bare feet, squeezing her legs in her hands tightly, hoping to remain standing while Derek pummeled her from behind. She watched Derek’s buttocks flexing as he pumped his hips, driving the awesome length of his cock deep inside her welcoming body. She saw his flat, muscle-corded stomach flexing as he speared into her again and again and again. She heard the moist sound of perspiring flesh slapping wetly against perspiring flesh, and the sound of it was an erotic music that made her clitoris sizzle.

But through the haze of her own burgeoning excitement, reality intruded, as she knew it must. In a voice that quivered and stammered because of her emotional turbulence and the physical violence she was undergoing, she said, “D-Don’t c-climax inside m-m-me.”

She watched in the mirror as Derek turned his face so that, in the reflection, he could look into her eyes. Sarah saw the intensity of his emotions, but she could not tell whether he was furious with her for her request, or if in the lust-fogged recesses of his brain he even understood what she’d just said.

Sarah had made the same request of Edgar on the two occasions that she’d allowed him to penetrate her body, and on both occasions he had disappointed her in a myriad of ways—not the least of which was by releasing his seed inside her. She had avoided pregnancy thus far, but she wasn’t so confident with Derek. For one thing, the sheer, staggering volume of his orgasms was the equivalent of three or four of Edgar’s. By that basis alone, the odds of impregnation expanded exponentially.

But would it be such a bad thing to have Derek’s child instead of Edgar’s?

It was yet another jolting thought for Sarah, and one that she wished she hadn’t had. With Derek’s cock seesawing between the lips of her pussy, rubbing against her clitoris to push her relentlessly toward yet another climax, the last thing in the world that Sarah wanted was the image of Edgar in her mind’s eye.

She blinked her eyes several times to clear her vision, and focused once more on the mirror. Derek’s hands were tight on her hips, his fingers pressing deeply into her flesh to hold her steady as he pounded his groin against the luscious curves of her backside, pumping his cock full-length into her pussy.

This time when Sarah spoke, the words were distinct. “Oh, fuck!” she said. And then, with a certain tone of awe and desperation, she added, “I’m coming again!”

And she did. Even more cataclysmically than the previous time. Only Derek’s great strength kept her standing, his hands gripping as solidly as steel as he held her up and pulled her curving hips backward to meet each invasion, forcing Sarah to impale herself upon the ramrod thrusts of his cock.

“Awww!” Derek growled when he’d reached the limit of his stamina.

Sarah was looking in the mirror, her vision blurred by lust. She watched as Derek withdrew an instant before his climax began. Even in the lust-disoriented state of her consciousness, she was astonished to watch a long, thick, milky jet of sperm explode from the head of Derek’s cock, arching through the air and over her shoulders to hit her in the back of the head, the creamy liquid mingling with her auburn hair. A second and third eruption quickly followed, leaving streams of cum from her shoulder blades down to her buns.

Sarah felt the heated cum sticking to her perspiring flesh, and thought—not for the first time—that Derek’s orgasms were three or four times that of Edgar’s.
He comes so much. Thank goodness he didn’t climax inside me. How could any woman not get pregnant with all that sperm inside her?

“Ohhh!” Derek groaned when the last of his climax was deposited against Sarah’s buns. “You are such a sexy lady.”

He pulled on Sarah’s shoulders, helping her to stand upright. He turned her, and when she faced him, he kissed her mouth lightly, gently.

When the kisses finally ceased, Sarah smiled wearily at Derek, then looked over her shoulder at her reflection in the mirror. She saw the cum matted in her hair and dribbling down back. Though it had felt erotic to feel Derek’s lust splashing down upon her, now, as the semen cooled, it wasn’t so pleasant.

“You’re amazing,” she whispered. “And—man, oh, man!—do I need a bath!”

Chapter Six

Derek stood beside the bed, looking down at the sleeping occupant. His time with Sarah had been brief, but in those few hours he’d discovered some fascinating things about her—and, more shockingly, about himself. He bent down and with a forefinger carefully smoothed an errant lock of silken auburn hair away from Sarah’s closed eye. When he touched her, she shifted slightly, and then moaned softly in her sleep before resuming her deep, even breathing. The cotton sheet had slipped down her body by her movements, allowing her lush breasts to be visible nearly to the areola.

A smile quirked Derek’s mouth. He had always had a rather precisely singular though limiting fascination for women’s hips and bottom as opposed to their bosom; but with the voluptuous Sarah Miller, there wasn’t a part of her that didn’t fascinate him, that didn’t trigger his masculine responses. And she was young. What? Early twenties? Maybe middle-twenties, at the oldest? Derek was thirty-two, and he had packed a lot of hard living in those years. There were times when he felt ancient, as though the world and its cares had added innumerable years to him—wear and tear that no one could see, but that Derek felt down in the very marrow of his bones.

Naked, he crossed the room, picked up the coffee cup, and poured more of the good whiskey into the glass. He took a sip, enjoyed the burn as the liquor went down, and then walked back to the bed’s edge. What was happening—Derek’s continuing to stay in the same room with a woman once he’d finished having sex with her—was not entirely unprecedented, though it was certainly unusual. Derek’s typical behavior was to give his all to his lover, pleasing her and himself in all the subtle and less-than-subtle ways that he had learned over the years. But when the passion was over, a kiss on the forehead was all he gave the woman before he started putting on his clothes. He was not one to stay the night in a lover’s home, and he certainly never allowed a woman to stay with him in whatever hotel he happened to be staying at.

Another soft smile faintly curled his lips. Sarah had blossomed in his arms, changing rapidly, transforming right before his eyes. He remembered their first kiss and her hesitant response to it; and then, a few hours later, her significantly bolder behavior as she bathed him, using her hands and lips and tongue to selflessly give him pleasure while seeking none for her.

He glanced away from the bed. To the east, the sun was just below the horizon. A new day was dawning, fresh and clean and innocent—and in stark contrast to the horrifying brutality of the preceding night.

Movement on the bed drew his attention. He looked down and saw that Sarah’s eyes were open, though just barely. Still, their emerald green beauty touched him. “Come to bed,” she murmured indistinctly, sleepily.

Derek finished the whiskey in the glass, set the cup on the floor, then lifted the thin sheet off Sarah. Her lusciously curved body, which had given him astonishing pleasure over the past hours, made the breath catch in his chest. He slipped in beneath the sheet. The bed was not large, so as he got onto the mattress, he dominated the bed. Sarah moved so that she could use his biceps for a pillow, his arm around her naked shoulders, her face angled toward him so that she could continuously fill her senses with the masculine scent of him.

Derek felt the firm fullness of her breasts against his ribs, considered briefly about letting his lusty desires once again have free rein with this incredible woman, but then decided that both of them needed sleep. He kissed her on the head, and within two minutes was doing something he’d never done before—sleeping contentedly with a woman in his arms.

* * * *

When the approaching horse whinnied, Derek was instantly and fully awake. Sarah’s head was still on his left arm, and he eased her off quickly. She stirred, mumbling something indistinct before falling back to sleep. Before going to the window, Derek went to his holster and extracted the deadly Colt.

He peered outside, between the curtain and the window frame, and saw a short, rather stout man dressed in businessman’s suit riding a palomino mare approaching the house. His clothes were charcoal gray, and even from a distance Derek could tell that they were high-quality and expensive—perhaps from
St. Louis
, or maybe (though he found this highly unlikely) even hand-tailored here in Deadwood by an expert tailor. His rather over-sized hat was the exact shade of charcoal gray, leading Derek to believe he was one of the few men who could buy sufficient hats to have one matching each of his outfits. Even from a distance, Derek could see the morning sunlight glinting off a heavy gold watch chain running horizontally across the man’s vest. The horse, too, was a bit flashy, a little showy. She was a long-legged mare with a deep chest. A golden palomino that was beautiful--not only in coloring, but in musculature and form. And the saddle and bridle were matching pieces of hand-tooled leather, carefully crafted and metal-punch embroidered to give it a personal touch.

Derek realized he was looking at the man who had purchased Sarah’s whiskey. The fact that he also knew that he was looking at Sarah’s lover (other lover, a little voice whispered possessively in his mind), made a muscle flicker briefly in Derek’s jaw. The first embers of raw hatred for the man began smoldering in Derek’s heart.

The man was still fifty yards off. Derek still had a little time before the unwanted intruder arrived. He plucked his Colt from the holster. Getting his gun was more important than getting his clothes. He then crossed the room silently to the bed, and put a hand upon Sarah’s shoulder.

Shaking her gently, he said, “Sarah, someone’s coming. A short, fat man in expensive clothes riding a palomino.”

Her eyes blinked sleepily twice, but then he saw his words register in her brain. When she blinked a third time, she was wide awake and quite obviously nervous.

“Are you serious?” she asked foolishly, tossing the sheet aside and reaching for her robe at the foot of the bed. As she frantically thrust her arm into the sleeve of the robe, she muttered, “Why did he have to come here now?”

A momentary spark of delight flamed in Derek’s chest. It was quite obvious by Sarah’s tone that the peacock on the palomino might be her lover, but she wasn’t exactly in love with him. Derek didn’t know what the entire background was between Sarah and the approaching rider, but it was clear that something other than just affection was keeping her with him.

Derek liked that. He couldn’t say why, but he liked that a lot.

“Who is he?”

Sarah replied, “Don’t ask. And for God’s sake, please, please, please don’t say anything.” She looked into Derek’s eyes and clearly didn’t like what she assumed were his thoughts. “Promise me you won’t do anything? Promise me you’ll stay quiet and not let him know you’re in here?”

Derek grinned and held his arms apart. “I’m an innocent man.”

Sarah’s gaze went over the man who was completely naked though holding a Colt revolver. She replied with thick sarcasm, “I have a real hard time believing that.” She peeked out the window, shivered noticeably, and then asked Derek, “What time is it?”

“My watch is in my pants pocket,” he replied.

Sarah looked out the window again, grimaced dramatically, and then turned to Derek and put a finger to his lips indicating he must maintain complete silence. She pulled her thin robe more tightly around herself, inhaled deeply for courage, and just as the sound of boots striking the front porch could be heard, she opened the door.

“Oh, hello,” she croaked, standing in the doorway.

Derek, standing not three feet away, hidden by the door but ready for anything, resisted the urge to cock the hammer of his Colt. The well-dressed, over-fed man on Sarah’s porch was her lover, and he stood less than ten feet away. A myriad of conflicting emotions went through Derek’s psyche in a heartbeat.

“You weren’t at work. It’s not like you to miss work.”

It was not a pleasant voice, Derek noted. Not high-pitched exactly, though it did have a reedy quality that would quickly rankle the nerves. For a flickering moment, Derek wondered whether Sarah’s romantic entanglements were motivated by mercenary concerns (the thought of love-words spoken with that voice seemed, to Derek, unlikely to the point of being impossible), but then he quickly reminded himself that Sarah had asked nothing of him, and even when they were running from the band of outlaws and the outcome of their flight was still quite in doubt, she had said that the fight was not his, and that he could save himself without being encumbered by her presence.

“I’m sick,” Sarah replied. She put her foot against the door, wedging it so that the door could not be easily opened. “I’ve been sick all night. I’m sorry for missing work, but I had a truly dreadful night.”

Not from what I could tell, Derek thought spitefully, thinking then that it wouldn’t be an altogether bad thing if Sarah’s lover did discover him hiding naked behind the door. Not even for an instant did Derek consider this man a formidable foe.

“What’s wrong with you?’ the voice replied. There wasn’t even the hint of sympathy.

“It must have been something I ate,” Sarah replied. “I’m sorry, but you really must leave.”

Derek could see Sarah, but not the intruder. Sarah was white-faced with either fear or embarrassment (or both, he later reflected), and that added verisimilitude to the tale she was spinning.

“I don’t suppose you’ve eaten much.”

Sarah shook her head. “Almost nothing at all.”

“Well, that’s one way of losing weight,” the voice replied, as though pleased to find the silver lining in this particular cloud.

As if on cue, the dark clouds overhead crackled as low thunder rumbled across the
Dakota Territory
. Derek, painfully aware of Sarah’s insecurities regarding her weight, clenched his teeth in rage, and it took an act of strong willpower for him to not immediately make the intruder apologize for his shamelessly thoughtless comment. When he looked at Sarah, he could tell that the blithe, vicious statement had cut her deeply, though she was trying to not let the pain show in her reaction.

“I’m sorry, but I really have to close the door now. I promise, I’ll be at work tomorrow.”

Sarah started to close the door, but a thick-fingered, fat palm smacked loudly against the door, stopping its progress. Derek’s muscles coiled in response. There might be a confrontation after all—and that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, since Derek was looking forward to making the intruder pay for some of his heartless comments. Derek watched as Sarah’s face took on an utterly pained, frustrated expression. This, he sensed, was not just acting on her part.

“Please…I promise to see you tomorrow. I really must get back to bed. I’ve hardly slept a wink all night.” Low thunder again rumbled. “You’d better get back to town. You’re going to get caught in the rain.”

A full thirty seconds lapsed in total silence before Derek heard footsteps retreating from the front door. Sarah closed the door and threw the lock into place. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the door, her forehead against the hard, smooth wood.

“Are you okay?” Derek asked, keeping his voice very low. He did not trust the intruder to not return unannounced.

Sarah turned so that she pressed her back against the door. When she inhaled deeply, he watched her breasts rise and fall beneath her thin cotton robe. The shape of her nipples were visible. The urge to react, for Derek, was nearly overpowering. Derek was not far removed from his coarser, baser ancestors, despite his high-priced education and flawless diction.

“Yes,” she said after several seconds. “I’m fine. I…I suppose you’d like some explanations about what just happened.” She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, and for a moment put her hands to her mouth. Then she said, “Please don’t ask me any questions right now, Derek. I’m all out of answers. And I can’t…I just can’t…be hounded right now. I can’t be pushed any further.” She opened her eyes and turned her head to look into Derek’s. After a moment she smiled wearily and added, “My god, but you are a devilishly handsome man!” Several seconds passed before she added, “You have no idea how sincerely I wish that wasn’t so. Maybe if you weren’t so handsome I could resist you.”