Outlaw's Bride (24 page)

C
lint searched for any sign of reluctance in Mattie's expression, but found only mirroring passion. A passion that had been nurtured by days and weeks spent in each other's company, keeping one another at arm's length, while nature plotted to bring them together.

He finally released his control and wrapped his arms around Mattie. He sought her lips and the weeks of restraint evaporated with the feel of her mouth, eager against his. Passion banished his body's soreness and he slid his hands down her slender back, across the thin material that did little to conceal her perfect figure. The firelight behind her had hidden nothing from his greedy gaze—her tiny waist and flaring hips, her shapely legs and the shadowy junction of her thighs.

Grabbing her gown, he swiftly pulled it upward and then cupped her rounded backside. Her skin was smooth, soft … just as he'd imagined. He pulled her firmly against his erection and rolled his hips. She moaned and imitated his motions, bringing him to the brink of release that quickly.

He drew back and gasped like a suffocating man—suffocating in Mattie's charms. Bunching the gown in his fist, he lifted it higher and brought his other hand around to cup a full breast. Her flesh filled his palm and blood roared through his veins. He fondled her nipple, already hard as a button.

Mattie bent her head back, offering her pale throat to him. As he kissed a trail down the slender column, her fingers threaded through his hair and her hands locked behind his head.

“Don't stop,” she whispered hoarsely.

A team of oxen couldn't have dragged him away. His erection pressed painfully against his jeans—he couldn't remember ever being so aroused. He had to plunge himself into her slick heat soon or he would combust.

He drew his tongue down her breast and sucked the tip into his mouth. She tasted so good, so right.

Sweet, courageous, proud Mattie…

He'd wanted her from the moment he had laid eyes on her, and the days he'd spent in her company had only increased his hunger. He needed her with an intensity that clouded every sane reason why he shouldn't take what she offered. Moving his hands up and down her sides, pausing on the undersides of her breasts, Clint rained kisses upon her lips, her cheeks, her neck. He couldn't get enough of touching her, feeling her, caressing her skin, more soft and velvety than his most vivid imaginings.

Mattie's hands stroked his hair and skimmed down his back, then around front between their hot bodies. Her fingers slid between his belly and jeans, and he nearly jumped when they brushed him.

“Not here,” he said hoarsely.

He scooped her up in his arms, hardly noticing the slight protest of his muscles, then climbed the stairs and entered Mattie's room. He closed the door behind them with his foot and sat her on the edge of the bed, facing him.

Mattie lifted her gown over her head, throwing it away impatiently. The light in her eyes smoldered. His breath stuttered when she reached out to undo his pants.

Clint swiftly shucked his jeans, and his masculinity jutted out proudly. He lay down on the bed, drawing her close beside him. Capturing the crest of one nipple, he rolled the bud between his thumb and forefinger, and she gasped with pleasure.

Mattie wrapped her fingers around his rock-hard length, surprising the hell out of him and making him throb within her grasp.

Clint bit back the groan of intense delight that crawled up his throat. He wouldn't last much longer if Mattie continued her excruciating ecstasy. He took her wrist and drew her touch away from his too-sensitive flesh.

He rolled atop her and she clutched at his hips, her fingers frantically urging him into her.

“Yes, now,” Mattie cried.

Her eagerness spurred him forward and he guided himself between her thighs. The moment he touched her dampness, he lost control and plunged into her tight heat.

Mattie moaned and arched her hips upward, accepting his length and demanding more. He rolled his pelvis back and forth, drawing in and out of her slickness. She met him stroke for stroke, with no reluctance or hesitation.

As he moved within her, he cupped her breasts, thumbing the pebble-hard nubs. Her violet eyes were cloudy with passion, with the approaching climax that he sensed in her walls clutching at his hard flesh.

For just one night, he would love Mattie and carry the memory of this time within his heart.

Mattie's breath grew faster, more frantic, and he knew she was on the edge of her release. He gripped her hips and increased his rhythm, pressing himself even farther into her depths. Her body stiffened and he covered her mouth with his, swallowing her cry of ecstasy as he, too, went over the edge, releasing his seed deep within her.

Slowly, Mattie's senses spiraled downward, bringing a lethargy to her tingling limbs. She loved the weight of Clint atop her damp body, his heartbeat thudding in time with her own. Nothing in her past had prepared her for the rapture of his lovemaking. Her entire being centered on this man who had unlocked a part of her that she'd kept hidden from even herself.

Clint shifted and Mattie tightened her arms around him.

“I'm too heavy,” Clint whispered.

Reluctantly, she allowed him to roll onto his back beside her. He slid his arm beneath her and she rested her head on his shoulder. She brushed her fingers across the middle of his chest, where the blond hair was the thickest. The soft-rough sensation against her skin brought a smile of contentment.

“Any regrets?” Clint asked quietly.

Startled, Mattie propped herself up on an elbow. “None. How about you?”

His crooked smile shot straight to her heart. “Never.” He raised his hand and stroked her cheek. “We still have a few hours before dawn.”

Mattie's insides curled and a current of desire shot through her veins. “Then we'd best not waste them.”

She kissed his lips, then his cheek, and traveled down the rough expanse of his whiskers. Giving back what Clint had given her, Mattie drew one of his nipples into her mouth and was rewarded with a soft groan.

“If you're trying to kill me, it's working,” Clint said huskily.

Mattie raised her head. “But such a pleasant way to go.”

Clint's shoulders shook with laughter. “Oh, yeah.”

Mattie continued her exploration of his hard, lean body, which was growing harder by the moment. She felt his hands on her arms, urging her up. Complying, she straddled him, trapping his reviving manhood between her thighs.

He clutched her backside in his hands, kneading her soft flesh as he pressed his head back against the pillow. He knew he'd have a difficult time settling for only one taste of her lovemaking, but he hadn't expected her to be so passionate and ready for him again. Or to take the initiative.

Mattie's actions spoke louder than any words as she worked Clint into a feverish passion. Her caresses left a burning trail across his chest and her kisses branded him as hers alone. Coherent thought abandoned him and he wrapped his hands around Mattie's thighs, lifting her above his steel length.

He felt her hand upon his erection as she guided him into her eager slickness and she began to ride him. She was even hotter than the first time, but after his initial release, Clint could control himself better to prolong the sweet journey. He reached upward and filled his hands with her breasts. Every forward movement of her body rubbed her nipples against his palms.

She closed her eyes and her low moans filled the room. Her tongue swept across her lips in an erotic invitation to taste them once more. Clint wrapped his arms around her and drew her down atop him, then threaded his fingers through her hair and slanted his lips across hers.

Her belly rubbed against his, and her actions grew more frenzied. Then she convulsed around him and he captured her silent scream with a kiss.

Mattie felt his climax a few moments later as he arched up against her, and she welcomed his second gift. She sagged onto him, her sweat-dampened body sliding across his skin. Her senses were attuned to his rapid breathing, the heat radiating from his body, and the scent of their lovemaking.

Maybe she
was
bad because of her wanton passion—but at that moment, she didn't care.

All she cared about was this man who had stolen her heart, and to whom she had given her body—with no regrets.

Mattie awakened slowly, blinking in the sunlight that streamed through the windows. A heavy weight across her stomach made her turn her head to see Clint sleeping peacefully beside her. He lay on his side, his arm around her middle and his handsome, angular face inches from her own.

She brushed a strand of hair back from his face, enjoying the intimacy with almost guilty pleasure. The vulnerability and gentleness in Clint's face made her heart tighten.

“I love you,” she whispered. She couldn't speak the words to him, but she needed to hear them aloud in her own voice.

Fragments of indescribable feelings and unexpected heights of pleasure tumbled back to her. They'd finally fallen asleep in each other's arms after making love yet again. Each time, she hadn't believed it could get better, but it had. Their bodies fitted together as if they'd been made for one another, and instinctively they each knew what brought the most pleasure to the other.

Mattie closed her eyes, reliving the moments in his arms, knowing she would live with those memories the rest of her life. Sadness caught her off guard, but she wouldn't let anguish bury the happiness she'd experienced.

Opening her eyes again, she slipped out of the bed, grimacing at the soreness in her shoulder. It had been a small price to pay for preventing Clint from falling back into the well.

She picked up her gown where she'd thrown it last night and folded it, then dressed quietly, knowing Clint needed his rest.

Before he left.

Silently, Mattie washed her face, then dressed and brushed her hair. She tiptoed to the door and opened it cautiously, then paused to gaze at Clint, who continued to sleep. Her chest hurt and her vision blurred. She didn't want him to leave, but the choice was out of her hands.

She slipped into the hallway and clicked the door shut behind her. Sticking her head in Andy's room, she was glad to see he was still sleeping, also. The longer he slept, the less of the day she had to force him to stay off his injured ankle.

Mattie descended the stairs and glanced in the parlor. Her robe lay on the floor and she hurried over to pick it up. She clutched it to her chest and closed her eyes, reliving the magical moments of the waltz she shared with Clint. Her heart aching, she opened her eyes and carried the robe up to her room. She kept her gaze averted from the bed, where Clint's long lean body was covered with merely a sheet from the waist down.

Going back downstairs, she started breakfast. Dakota whinnied from the corral and Mattie looked out the window. This would be the last day she'd see the mare prance around the enclosure. She pressed a hand to her mouth to hold a sob at bay.

She should be grateful her life would get back to normal after Clint left. Once he and his gun were gone, things would settle down into a familiar routine. No longer would her days be interrupted by a trip to the fishing pond or her nights disturbed by his presence under his roof. She should be pleased.

But she only felt lost and empty.

Mattie shook off her depressing thoughts and turned around. Her heart leapt at the sight of Clint lounging against the doorframe, his warm gaze on her. A collage of the night passed through her thoughts and her cheeks heated.

“Good morning,” he greeted in a husky voice that would have tempted the angels.

“Morning,” Mattie said. She averted her gaze from him and crossed the kitchen to the table. “I'll have breakfast ready in about fifteen minutes.”

She passed him to lift the skillet off the hook on the wall and place it on the stove. Clint's hand settled on hers, his heat scorching her knuckles.

“You should have woken me when you got up,” he said, his warm breath fanning across her neck.

“You needed the rest,” she replied, keeping her gaze averted from his.

He cupped her chin and raised it so she had to look at him. Concern shaded his eyes and brought a lump to her throat. “You aren't—”

She shook her head. “No, it's not that.” She paused and laid her palm against his freshly shaven cheek. Her breath faltered. “Never that.”

Clint's brow furrowed. “Then what?”

“I'll miss you,” she replied without hesitation, then forced a smile. “But I understand you can't stay.”

The creases in his face deepened. “Sometimes I wish I understood.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighed and his hand fell to his side. “I was a lawman, Mattie.”

A shock rippled through her and she stepped back. “What?”

Clint turned away from her to stare out the window. “I was a U.S. marshal. My wife wanted me to quit since I had to travel so much, but I couldn't.” He shrugged. “I cared more about my job than Emily. I was on my way home from picking up a prisoner when she was murdered.”