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Authors: Desconhecido(a)

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I must stop this insanity, Sarah thought. But once again the thought brought no action. Logic and reason had vanished with the application of Derek’s kisses and caresses. All that was left was a responsive, traitorous body that melted at Derek’s discretion.

Derek kissed her collarbone, nudging her torn dress open a little more with his chin. His kisses traveled downward, inching closer and closer to her exposed breasts. His right hand moved past the slender leather belt encircling her waist, gliding over the curve of her hip to ease downward even more.

“Don’t,” Sarah whispered, feeling Derek’s warm, moist, tempting lips on the upper slope of her breast.

She had always had very sensitive nipples, and she knew with frightening certainty that whatever sense of logic and reason she possessed would be stripped away completely if she ever felt this sexy man’s devilish mouth capture her nipple. Action had to be taken
¾
and taken immediately
¾
if she was to have any chance whatsoever of preventing this accident (and Sarah had no doubt at all that any semblance of a romantic entanglement with a man like Derek was most definitely an accident) from happening.

“Please, I’m begging you
¾
stop,” Sarah whispered, once again hating the weak, frightened tone of her voice.

“You don’t mean that,” Derek replied, casually dismissing Sarah’s words, his right hand now pulling up the skirt of Sarah’s dress. The tone of his voice was husky, infinitely seductive. “You’ll beg me...but it won’t be to stop.”

“But...“ Sarah began. It seemed to her completely unfair that he should have such a tempting voice. The sound of his words shouldn’t cause Sarah to feel like she was being caressed with a mink glove
¾
but as she was discovering, Derek was the exception to every rule.

Derek raised his right hand high enough to press his middle two fingers against Sarah. Even though the thin barrier of her cotton drawers prevented his fingers from actually touching her, the pleasure that surged through her veins was instantaneous and breathtaking. With devastating precision, as Derek touched her so intimately, he opened his lips wide and sucked the crest of her left breast into his mouth. The liquid heat of his mouth against her sensitive nipple caused Sarah to curl forward as she clutched onto Derek’s broad shoulders.

She felt as though she were being devoured. Blissfully, passionately, ecstatically devoured. She was being eaten alive in a way that made Sarah embarrassingly aware of her own sexual inexperience.

Please stop! Please stop!
thought Sarah, with delusion, believing that she really did want Derek to cease his kisses and caresses.

She could not force the words from her throat. She simply couldn’t tell Derek to do something that
¾
had she been capable of being entirely honest with herself
¾
she really didn’t want him to do. For all his negative traits, he was the man who had put himself in mortal danger to come to her rescue at the precise moment in her life when rescuing was exactly what she had desperately needed. He was also masculine to a heightened degree, and when Sarah was feeling weak and vulnerable, ostentatious virility and overwhelming male strength and courage were traits that she could not find entirely offensive. In fact, she could find nothing offensive about them at all.

Sarah’s well-rounded hips began to move. She hadn’t intended for it to happen, it just…happened. Slowly at first, just from side to side. It was an unconscious movement caused by the unprecedented pleasure charging through her, but even when she became aware of what she was doing, she could not stop herself. She could no more stop her hips from moving than she could stop her breathing. Derek touched her with astonishing skill, rubbing the pads of his middle two fingers up and down over the delicate, nerve-laden lips of her pussy, forcing cotton to rub tantalizingly against her responsive labia and even more responsive clitoris. Looking down, she saw his handsome profile, his cheek hollowed as he drew a tight suction upon her breast, and she wished once more that she could find the internal willpower to put an end to this luscious, deliriously exhilarating madness.

But she could not. Could not and would not. And if she was really being honest with herself (which she wasn’t), Sarah would admit that she did not want this to end. Perhaps in some odd way that Sarah did not understand the element of fear had heightened her senses and had stimulated long-neglected nerve receptors. Perhaps it was because Derek was nearly everything she disliked in men. Maybe it was because at any second they might be caught by the vicious outlaws who wanted to rape her and kill Derek. Whatever the reason, Sarah felt as though the surface of her skin had been magically sensitized, so that she felt everything with infinitely greater precision than ever before in her life. Her fingers kneaded the muscles in Derek’s shoulders, caressing him through his finely tailored suit coat and shirt, loving the suppressed power she felt there.

He could break me in half if he wanted to,
Sarah thought
. But he knows how to be strong without hurting me. I could kneel at this man’s feet and not be ashamed of myself.

She pushed her fingers into his thick, ebony hair, shocking herself by guiding Derek’s hungry mouth from the crest of one breast to the other. When Derek captured her nipple between his teeth and nibbled softly, another startled cry escaped Sarah. The intensity of the pleasure was so shocking she couldn’t contain herself. Suddenly, inexplicably, she considered doing to Derek things that Edgar had asked for. With Edgar, she had adamantly refused...but with Derek, the temptation to behave wickedly was so powerful it made her shiver.

Derek feasted upon her firm breasts, sucking and licking, using his lips and tongue and especially his teeth to give her pleasure that constantly danced between pleasure and pain.

“Oh, Derek! I’m on fire!” Sarah whispered, her arms looped over his broad back as his lips tantalized her breasts. Sarah was certain that if she did not hold onto Derek, the strength in her legs was insufficient to keep her standing.

Derek’s fingers eased higher, relieving the pressure against her clitoris. A moment later Sarah felt deft fingers pulling loose the drawstring of her knickers. The warning alarms that almost always protected Sarah began clanging furiously in her brain, infinitely louder than ever before in her life. She felt Derek’s fingers slide over the soft, curly hair above her pubis, then felt him touch the heated, wet lips of her pussy.

Sarah’s entire body flinched at the contact. She uttered the name of a deity, then a curse, utterly oblivious to the inconsistency of what she was saying, distinctly aware that she was traveling into an area of sensual emotions that, for her, was entirely uncharted territory. She was aware only of her body, and of the thoroughly frightening yet ecstatic way that she responded to everything that Derek was doing to it. When she felt his fingertips come in contact with her pink, erect clitoris, more tremulous words came from her
¾
though if they were words or merely sounds, even Sarah could not be certain.

Sarah opened her mouth wider, hungry for the taste of Derek’s tongue. She moaned lustily as she felt her clitoris being rubbed lightly with a fingertip. She knew that if Derek continued to kiss and caress her as he was now, she would have an orgasm
¾
and this was almost unimaginable for her. She had never climaxed through any way other than with self-administered passion.

Derek slipped a single finger between the tight, slick pink folds of Sarah’s pussy. She started to cry out, and he again silenced her with a demanding kiss. She felt as though she were melting inside. Sarah had no logical, rational reason for why she felt so completely out of control of her own actions and emotions. All that she knew with certainty was that a kiss from Derek was more exciting than any caress she’d ever received from Edgar, and that a caress from Derek touched her to the core of her soul and burned her with a fiery intensity that she hadn’t imagined possible.

The outlaws were nearly upon them before Derek’s survival instincts warned him that the trap was being set. Sarah was unaware of anything other than Derek, and how magnificent he made her feel
¾
until he pushed her hard against the brick wall. He sprang into action, attacking the two young padfoots who had come across them hiding in the alley.

Sarah did not want to watch the violence, but she did, and the skill and savagery that Derek displayed frightened her almost as much as the young criminals did. Even though Derek was outnumbered two to one, the young men did not have a chance against him. Within fifteen seconds both young men were unconscious and sporting either a broken arm or a broken leg.

“Damn it, isn’t this ever going to end?” Derek muttered to himself, releasing the jacket collar of the unconscious cretin who had just discovered exactly how much force Derek could put behind his fists.

Derek reached a hand out to Sarah. She knew what to do by now, only this time she longer bothered to hold her dress closed as she ran at Derek’s side.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

Derek was breathing heavily. There had been two more clashes with the young outlaws, and the only reason why Derek and the woman were still unscathed was that the gang had split into small groups in their efforts to kill Derek. They wanted to capture the woman. Eventually, they’d get around to killing her—but not before they’d all had their sadistic fun with her first.

“I…I’ve got…to rest,” she said again through gasping breaths. “I’m...Sarah.”

“Derek.”

She bent over at the waist, putting her hands just above her knees, turning partially away from Derek for modesty’s sake. Her legs were weak and shaky, just as they had been earlier when she was in his arms and melting inside because of the heat of his kisses, responding to sensations she’d never before realized were possible. Now she was simply and completely exhausted.

Derek looked up and down the alley, and then cursed under his breath. Whether the gang had meant to do it or not, they had chased him deeper and deeper into the seamiest section of Deadwood. This was the area that even Sheriff Artie Sterns, who had been hired to uphold the law, avoided completely. Itinerate cowboys looking for one last job filled the ten-cent-a-night hotels; there weren’t any brothels, but the hotels kept numerous women who rented out themselves, and their rooms, by the hour. The saloons were poorly lighted, sparsely populated, and served whiskey that went down the throat as gently as a hacksaw blade.

The decent citizens of Deadwood knew better than to be in this neighborhood at night, or even to unlock their doors. Derek could hear, in the empty silence of the streets, the outlaw gang running about, shouting to each other, searching for the man in black who had already caused so many of their vicious but close-knit clan to end up screaming in agony or silently dead.

Derek turned toward Sarah, and the moment he did, he wished he hadn’t. Or, rather, he felt as though he’d been struck with a lightning bolt. She was standing sideways to him, bent at the waist with her hands on her knees as she gulped in air. In that position, with her dress and camisole torn apart, and gravity playing its vital role in this visual moment that would forever be burned into Derek’s brain, he was given a view of extravagant feminine charms. Even under the duress of knowing that he would be instantly killed if he was caught by the gunmen pursuing him, and despite his own long and profligate history with women that left very little room for new experiences in the realm of sensuality, Derek considered the charms now exposed to him to be beyond earthly splendor. Sarah was, in his eyes and at that moment, heavenly and angelic. Again his brain correctly itself, searching for clarity and precision in a world and at a time when clarity and precision were almost nonexistent. No, she wasn’t heavenly
¾
she was incarnate eroticism. She was sexy as hell.

He turned his back to Sarah. Self-control of his libidinous impulses had never been particularly strong with Derek, and in Sarah’s presence he discovered it was nearly nonexistent. Since his late teenage years, Derek had realized that he possessed steely willpower regarding almost all facets of life. However, when he looked at his reflection in the mirror and stripped away the flesh until he got down to the very bones of his existence, he also knew that where women were concerned, he was weak-willed and intemperate in the extreme. How many times had he promised himself that he would never again be in bed with this rich young belle, or that flirtatious debutante? And how many times had he promised himself that he would never again listen to their empty chatter, or let himself get tugged into their bedrooms to give them the satisfaction that their other lovers could not provide?

The answer to the question he didn’t want to ask himself, but couldn’t avoid, was: too many times.

With a conscious effort, Derek forced Sarah’s magnetic, voluptuous allure
¾
and his own shortcomings
¾
from his thoughts. He looked around the alleyway and considered his predicament. Earlier he had replaced the spent cartridges in his Colt with fresh ones, which meant that he now had six rounds in his pistol, and three additional rounds in his jacket pocket. That would be sufficient if he found himself in a duel, but woefully inadequate should he get into a protracted gunfight. And with Sarah with him, he couldn’t run or attack as he otherwise would have.

He said, “How much farther can you go?”

“Not…far,” was the gasping response. “Leave. Go without me. I’ll hide somewhere until morning. I’ll be fine.”

“I won’t leave you.” He spoke the words softly, but with a finality that left no room for ambiguity.

“But
¾

“My decision has been made, so save your breath,” he said sharply, cutting off her protests.

He looked up and down the alley. There was nothing that would provide reasonable protection, a permanent safe haven from the outlaw gang searching for them. Then he spotted the fire escape ladder on the red brick building at the opposite side of the alley.

“I’ve got an idea,” Derek said, turning toward Sarah. He was relieved to see that she was now standing erect, and holding the shreds of her dress closed sufficiently to hide her ostentatious charms. “Can you go just a little farther? If you can, I think we’ll be safe until sunrise. Those boys are like cockroaches. They disappear when the sun comes up.”

Sarah nodded. She seemed ready to accept any suggestion that Derek might make. She was exhausted to the marrow of her bones, and he hoped she had learned during the previous hour and a half that she was safer with him than without him.

He crossed the alley and leaped high to grab the bottom rung of a rusted fire escape ladder attached to the back of a four story old brick warehouse. During the boom years of the gold rush, the warehouse had been vital for commerce; now half the windows were boarded up, and the warehouse itself was packed with crates holding merchandise that had long since been forgotten. The ladder creaked and protested against his weight, clearly not having been used in many years, and then unfolded and descended slowly. The sound of rusty metal protesting was particularly loud. Derek glanced at Sarah and knew she couldn’t run much farther.

“Come on,” Derek said, standing at the base of the ladder. “Let’s get to the roof. You can rest there.”

Sarah looked at the zigzagged path the iron fire escape ladder took up the side of the building. Her legs were trembling with fatigue, especially her thighs. “I don’t know if I can climb all the way to the roof.”

From less than fifty yards away, a voice cut through the night, shouting, “When I finish with that bitch, she’ll wish she never left her mama’s belly!”

Another outlaw shouted in reply, “But first we gotta find her and that big guy she’s with! You guys seen anything of ‘em?”

“I’m your only hope,” Derek said quietly. “Whether you like me or not, the fact remains that you need me. Right now, you need me more than you’ve ever needed anyone in your life.”

Sarah released the hold she had on her ruined bodice. She had much bigger problems than whether or not Derek could see her naked breasts. He could tell she couldn’t completely shake her sense of embarrassment, especially when she noticed him looking at her ample bosom with obvious appreciation.

“I can do it,” she said softly as she began climbing up the metal ladder.

The rooftop of the warehouse was flat, sealed against the elements by some kind of coal tar that had been covered over with small pebbles. It was hardly the place anyone could feel comfortable, but Sarah collapsed anyway, sitting with arms wrapped around her knees as she gulped in air.

“Stay here and stay quiet,” Derek said. “I’m going to look around.”

As Sarah recovered her strength, Derek kept vigil at the edge of the building, checking all four sides, moving from one direction to the next to look down at the gang members as they searched with increasing anger at the quarry that eluded them.

Derek found an area on the rooftop that would provide some small measure of comfort for Sarah. It was a ventilation shaft of some sort, surrounding by a wood housing to prevent the rainwater from entering the building through the shaft. Next to it were two wooden crates, long since abandoned. It wouldn’t be much, but at least Sarah would have something to sit on, and something to lean against.

He went to her, and as he looked down at Sarah, he did his very best to keep from staring at her breasts. He had seen countless naked women in his life, but the extravagance of Sarah’s bosom was truly awe-inspiring.

“We’ll stay here for a couple hours,” he said, getting down on one knee beside Sarah. “I found a place that’ll be more comfortable for you.” He studied her face for a moment. “Those boys are angry, but they can’t run around forever. Even in a place like Deadwood, sooner or later good people who understand right from wrong will unlock their doors to find out what all the ruckus is about.”

 

* * * *

 

When Derek stood and reached a helping hand down for her, Sarah pulled her dress a little more tightly together. Whenever Derek was very near, she felt jittery inside. It had nothing to do with the gang of outlaws now; what frightened her was Derek himself. Or, more accurately, what frightened Sarah was her reaction to Derek. He had a way of inspiring a sensual curiosity and adventurousness in her that Edgar never had
¾
a fact which caused no small amount of unease in Sarah.

With Derek’s help, she got to her feet. She always felt less vulnerable when she was standing. But when she looked at Derek, she was once again made aware of his formidable size. Beside him, she felt small, and that was something that almost never happened to her.

When they reached the crates and air shaft housing, Sarah sighed gratefully and turned to face the man who had risked his own life to protect her.

“I’d like to thank you for what you’ve done,” she said softly. “I never would have survived without you.”

Derek placed his palm on her cheek, and with his thumb he lightly caressed her lips, passing his thumb from side to side.

“I had to do it,” he replied, giving that grin that Sarah was learning to like so much. “Couldn’t leave a damsel in distress, could I? What kind of knight in shining armor would I be then?”

Sarah turned her face so that she could kiss Derek’s palm. It shocked her to do this since she was still trying to convince herself that there was nothing appealing about the man. But she did kiss his palm, and a moment later, she let the tip of her tongue trailed up the inside of his middle finger, and when she did, she was shocked to smell and taste the lingering, unmistakable essence of her own passion. Intensely vivid, fresh memories exploded in her mind. She remembered all the wild thrills she had felt while hiding in the dark alley, wickedly aroused by this darkly handsome stranger, frightened beyond all words at the young monsters who chased them with Derek’s slow death and her own pitiless gang rape on their minds.

Sarah brought her tongue along the length of Derek’s finger, swirled her tongue around the tip briefly, then licked back down until she once more licked his palm. She wanted to look into Derek’s eyes, but she couldn’t find the courage to do it. Not while she was behaving so brazenly.

On several occasions, while she had been stroking Edgar to give him the sexual release that he said he couldn’t live without, he had tried to push Sarah down to her knees. He pleaded for what he explained was called a blowjob, but Sarah had refused. It was the one act of sensuality that Edgar had asked of her that she never relented on. But with Derek, unknown urges tempted her to do wonderfully wicked things. He inspired experimentation and made succumbing to carnal delights seem like the most natural thing in the world.

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FSF, January-February 2010 by Spilogale Authors