Promises Linger (Promise Series) (10 page)

“I may have been a little premature in my decision.”

He tugged on the sheet. “Nope. Seeing as how the night’s getting away from us and morning comes early, I think now is about perfect.”

For all of the seriousness of his expression, he was laughing at her. She knew it. And the knowledge stung.

“Let go the sheet, darlin’.”

“Not until you blow out the lamp.”

“I like the light on.” A quick tug on his end of the quilt had it slipping from her grip. She tried to catch it, but he tweaked it away. Damn. He was fast.

“I am not participating until you blow out the lamp,” she informed him as she lunged for the trailing corner of the quilt.

“Seems to me you’re not the one calling the shots here.”

She caught the quilt, but leaned too far over and Asa caught her. She was forced to continue her argument from an undignified sprawl across his lap. “I mean it, Mr. MacIntyre. I’m not participating in anything with the light on.”

“Too much light interferes with your planning?” His hand passed across her posterior and she yelped. She squirmed to get up, but his forearm across the small of her back kept her pinned.

“I have no idea,” she gasped as he touched her intimately again.

“Then I think we’ll leave it on.”

“No!” The heat from his hand permeated the thin cotton of her pantaloons. She didn’t want to picture the image she presented in her current position. “Let me up.”

“I like you like this.”

As if to prove his point, his hand moved in a circular motion. He traced the seam of her buttocks with indecent accuracy. Her protesting wiggle only served to give him more ideas. On his next pass, he pressed harder, causing the material to catch embarrassingly between her cheeks where his finger probed. She froze, mortification drying her protest in her throat.

“Damn, you’re something, darlin’.”

“Let me up,” she hissed. His finger traced the crease he’d created. Despite her determination to lie still, her hips bucked, driving his hand firmly between her legs.

His “not just yet” sounded alarmingly gruff to her straining ears. Something poked her in the side and, ranch girl that she was, she knew what it meant. Her husband was aroused. The hand across her back shifted so his elbow had her pinned and he could use that hand to separate her thighs. His fingers wedged deeper, until he could cup her woman parts.

Oh God, she thought, there was no reprieve. He took his hand from her back, slipped his forearm under her chest and turned her across his lap. His fingers between her legs supported her weight. The hand across her chest kept her pinned against his arm. As he moved it to cup her breast, she looked into his face. There was no softness. No sign that he shared her distress or even noted it. There was only an intense concentration as he watched his hand engulf her breast.

“The light…” she whispered, blinking to fight back tears. He didn’t seem to hear.

“Part your legs,” he ordered.

“I can’t. The light.”

His gaze met hers. No mercy there. “You promised me two things—willingness and obedience.”

She closed her eyes, counted to ten, and then kept on going.

“That’s an order, Elizabeth.”

How could the man expect her to keep her word in circumstances like this? She parted her legs a spare inch. He took a mile. When she felt his fingers slide through the slit in her pantaloons to slip between the folds of her female flesh, it was too much. She turned her face into the hollow of his throat and prayed for her Maker to take her then and there. Beneath her cheek, his chest rose on a shuddering breath.

“Guess I’m going too fast for a student of Miss Penelope’s, huh?” he asked on the exhale.

She guessed he was going too fast for the women who lived over Dell’s, but she wasn’t going to risk losing his compassion by saying so. “I’m sure it would be easier on both of us if we blew out the lamp.”

In response, he stood, leaned over, and blew out the lamp. The fact that he didn’t moan or even shift his grip convinced her that struggling would be useless, even if she wanted to forsake her word. As darkness enveloped them along with the stench of kerosene, he gave her a little toss that switched his grip to her waist.

She dangled in his arms as he asked, “You still planning on making a dress while we do this?”

“Yes.” He had no idea what her complacency was costing her.

“You’re going to cut and stitch while I do whatever I want?”

“You said you wouldn’t hit,” she hastened to remind him.

“We’ve already established what I’m set on doing. What’s up for grabs is whether you plan on joining in.”

Was he questioning her integrity? “I know my duty, Mr. MacIntyre.”

“Asa,” he reminded her.

“Asa,” she dutifully repeated. She crossed her arms over her chest as a compromise between encouragement and obedience. “Could we please get on with this?”

“You in a hurry?”

“I’m scared to death.”

“I can feel you trembling.”

There was a long pause in which he did nothing.

“Is there something wrong?” she asked.

“I’m trying to figure a way to make you less nervous. Any particular worry you’re gnawing on?”

She thought about it. “I don’t like not knowing what you’re going to do next.”

“Seeing as how I’m a talker, I could probably manage a warning or two.”

Having her inch, Elizabeth decided to go for a mile. “I also don’t like it when you handle me sooo…intimately.”

“That,” he said, a smile in his voice as he brought her breasts back against his chest, “you’re going to have to get used to. Any more questions?”

It was hard to think with the threat of his big body so close to hers. Through the lingering odor of kerosene, she smelled his scent. She wanted to dislike it, but he smelled of soap, fresh air and blackberries.

“Well?” he prompted in the wake of her silence.

“I guess not.”

“No need to sound so discouraged, darlin’. We’re going to do just fine. Put your arms around my neck.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to feel your breasts against me.”

Shock at his bald pronouncement held her frozen for the two seconds he waited before pretending to drop her. Reflexes threw her arms around his neck. She felt his smile against her hair. “That’s the way.”

“I’m not sure my sensibilities can take any more warnings,” she admitted grudgingly.

“Then why don’t you stuff them under the mattress?”

“What?”

“Your sensibilities and all that other starchy stuff Miss Penelope taught you.”

“I can’t.” The words ended on a small squeak as he tossed her again in order to shift his hands to the backs of her thighs.

“Then, darlin’, you’d best get to stitching because the fun’s about to begin. Wrap your legs around my waist.”

She was too smart to ask why this time. She just did as ordered. He took a step back and sat on the edge of the bed. If she thought the humiliation of having him touch her was bad, it was nothing compared to the humiliation of straddling his lap. When he suggested she move to the right, she had no illusions as to why. His manhood pushed heavily against her inner thigh.

“I can’t,” she confessed. “I’m not breaking my promise, I swear. I’m doing my best. I just can’t.”

“Guess that stitchin’ isn’t getting you too far, huh?”

She shook her head. It might have been her imagination, but she thought his lips brushed her hair. “Could we just get this over with?” she asked.

“You always in this much of a rush?”

“Please? I’ll beg if you want. I—”

His finger across her lips cut off the rest of her plea.

She pulled back. “Is that a yes?”

“A man wishes his whole life for a woman to beg for his lovemaking. Guess when she does, the least he could do is honor the request. Lie on the bed, darlin’, while I shuck these clothes.”

For a man about to get his wish, he didn’t sound enthusiastic, but she was too beset by her own problems to care. Nausea rolled in her stomach, her hands shook, and, as she scrambled to do as he asked, she thought she’d further humiliate herself by throwing up. Remembering his earlier explanation of what he preferred, she lay on her back. After careful consideration, she placed her hands at her side. Lying in the dark, she listened to the rustling of his clothes. A soft thunk indicated his belt hitting the floor. She took three deep breaths, swallowed her nerves and said, “I don’t suppose you could remain dressed for this?”

He cursed beneath his breath. The chair legs rocked as he threw something over the back. “I’m willing to forsake a lot of things out of respect for your sensibilities, Elizabeth, but I’ll be damned if I’ll come to my wedding bed dressed for work.”

The disgust in his voice flicked her pride like a whip. “It was only a suggestion.”

The mattress sagged as he knelt on it. Over her. His breath blew across her face as he growled, “Well, it was a damned poor one for a wife to be making.”

The fact that he swore in her presence told her more than she wanted to know about his feelings. His legs slipped between hers. The planes and curves of well honed muscles were rock hard and alien against her softer flesh. With his knee, he pushed first one thigh and then the other to the side. Instinct had her resisting, but his strength brooked no denial. He wasn’t satisfied until she was spread wide, more open and more vulnerable than she had ever been in her life. The feeling was alien, but in the dark of the night, with the heat of his body reaching out to cover her in an intimate blanket, not as terrifying as she’d expected. His breath blew across her cheek. The sheets rustled as his hands shifted near her shoulders. Fear and a foreign sense of anticipation caught her breath in her throat as he slowly lowered the length of his strong body over hers. He was all muscle where she was soft. Rough where she was smooth. And hot. Very, very hot.

She released the sheets from her death grip and slowly brought her hands up to his forearms. The dark was kindness itself, giving her courage she couldn’t find in the light. Tentatively, she curled her fingers around the hard flesh. He was so very different from her. The hairs on his arm were more prominent than hers, denser. They tickled her skin. Experimentally, she slid her palms up and down, playing with the sensation.

Asa moaned. “That’s right, darlin’. Hold on.”

She didn’t see where she had much choice. Especially when he brought his mouth to the side of her neck. His lips were soft where she’d expected them to be firm. As she contemplated the newness, they found a spot beneath her ear that sent goose bumps spreading out from her neck, over her torso and amazingly, shockingly, concentrating in her breasts. The longer he nibbled at her neck, the more intense the feeling became until her breasts felt swollen and her nipples actually ached. Instinctively her torso arched up, pressing those sensitive points into the solid wall of his chest. The relief was exquisite. Asa’s chuckle vibrated against her ear. New shock waves shivered down her spine. The heat seemed to transfer from his body to hers, pooling between her legs. When his tongue trailed from her neck up to her ear, swirling around the edges, she gasped out loud.

She held her breath until he did it again. And again. Her hands slid higher, her fingers skimming his flesh, following the muscled grooves in his upper arms until they naturally embraced the solid bulk of his shoulders. Muscles she didn’t know she had clenched between her legs, and her insides wept with a hungry longing that demanded relief.

It came in a manner she wasn’t expecting. Something broad and large wedged against her intimate flesh. Asa soothed her initial start with a soft murmur. His left shoulder slid out of her grasp as he leaned away. His teeth nipped her earlobe. The pain was sharp and swift, and unbearably pleasurable. The ache between her thighs blossomed into full-fledged need. He reached between their bodies and began rubbing his penis up and down the wet folds of her woman’s flesh. She tried to hold still, but it was impossible. With each glide of that large head across her flesh, the sharp bite of need was soothed and nudged higher. On the next pass, he did something way up that drove a spike of ecstasy through her body. Her moan was uncontrollable. His response was immediate.

“Let’s try that again.”

With slow deliberation, he pushed his manhood against that special spot. The breath she’d been holding whooshed out. He held himself there, just massaging that special spot until she thought she’d go mad if he continued. Suddenly he stopped, and she knew she’d go mad from that alone. She strained upwards with her hips, seeking the connection she needed, but she struck only air. Following the demands of her body, she wrapped her legs around his thighs, using all her strength, she pulled, wanting him back. Needing him now.

“Easy, darlin’,” he whispered against her ear. “I’ll give you what you want.”

His manhood probed between her thighs. Not where she wanted it, but lower. He slid easily through the wetness there, seeking, searching, until he nestled into a soft welcoming valley. A whole new host of sensations immediately clamored for attention. And her body tensed in eager anticipation. Bedding a man was nothing like she’d been told.