Sagebrush Bride (39 page)

“Katie!”

His reflexes kicked in immediately. By the time
the handle on the door turned, Cutter had already vaulted into the bed, and was
under the bed sheets with Elizabeth, his own telltale blanket left strewn like
a trail across the bed.

Her head popping up in surprise, Elizabeth stifled
a cry as Cutter’s body came flush against her.

Finding Elizabeth awake surprised Cutter all of
two seconds, and then he regained his senses in time to shove her head down and
laid down his own a mere instant before the door flew open and Katie scurried
in. She’d gotten no more than two steps into the room when Miss Mimi caught her
by the back of her nightgown. “Katie!” she reprimanded. “What in heavens do you
think you are doing, child?”

“I tol’ ya, Miss Mimi,” Katie wailed. “I forgot to
say night to my uncle Cutter! Uncle Cutter, are ya wake?” she asked in the same
secretive whisper she’d used earlier.

Drowsily Cutter lifted his head, opening one eye.
When Elizabeth tried to lift hers, as well, he held her down with a firm hand.

“Goodness!” Miss Mimi declared, seeing the sleepy
expression on Cutter’s face. “I’m so sorry to wake you, Mr. McKenzie.” She
shook her head in exasperation. “I went in to say good night to Katie and made
the mistake of asking whether she’d kissed both of you good night already.”

Katie shrieked in protest when she couldn’t get
near enough to the bed.

“It’s all right,” Cutter replied gruffly,
spreading his hand across Elizabeth’s face. The pad of his little finger
settled in the groove of her mouth, while two of his other fingers splayed
across her eyes, blocking her vision.

It was all Elizabeth could do not to bite down on
his finger. But she understood what Cutter was trying to do, and knew that she
was supposed to be appreciative. It was just that he was pressed against her so
intimately. Feeling that particular part of him nestling into her bottom so
shamelessly, she couldn’t stifle a mortified groan. Fortunately for her, Miss
Mimi didn’t seem to hear it. She was obviously too busy fretting over Katie’s
unforgivable intrusion to hear Elizabeth’s distress.

“She was halfway down the hall before I’d realized
where she was off to!” Miss Mimi exclaimed by way of apology.

Again, Elizabeth tried to lift her head, but
Cutter kept her restrained, patting her cheek firmly, instead. “It’s all right,
sweetheart,” he murmured, sounding hoarse with sleep. “It’s just Katie... and
Miss Mimi.” Having said that, he removed his hand from her face at last,
allowing her to lift her head, but she cringed as it slid to her shoulder,
instead, caressing softly. She resisted the urge to elbow his gut and screech
in outrage.

“Are you certain it’s all right?” Miss Mimi asked.

Cutter feigned a yawn, his hand leaving her
shoulder for the briefest second, and then returning to squeeze it gently.
Elizabeth shivered over the tenderness of that gesture.

“Sure,” he said with good humor and a wink for
Katie. Katie beamed. The moment Miss Mimi released her, she flung herself into
the bed, scrambled across it, and stretched her neck over Elizabeth to peck at
Cutter’s cheek.

“Couldn’t sleep myself thinking that I’d missed my
good night kiss,” Cutter assured her.

With a smile as wide as the Missouri, Katie slid
back off the bed, landing nimbly on her feet.

“I take it your aunt Lizbeth’s already gotten
hers?” he asked, all the while stroking Elizabeth’s shoulder and upper arm as
though it were the most natural thing for him to do.

And it might have been... had they been man and
wife. But they weren’t. And it wasn’t. Elizabeth’s heart cried out with that
reminder, and her eyes stung.

“Yes, sir,” Katie replied as she scrambled out the
door. “Night!” she called from the hall.

“Night,” both Elizabeth and Cutter replied
simultaneously.

Miss Mimi’s expression was abashed. “Thank you,”
she said fervently, “a-and good night to you, too.” Tossing her gaze
heavenward, she shook her head and closed the door.

“That was close,” Elizabeth sighed with relief,
when they were alone.

For a long moment there was no answer. And then
Cutter agreed, “Yes, it was.” He continued to stroke her arm, sending shiver
after shiver down her spine. Her head lolled slowly backward, seduced by the
gentleness of his touch. She felt his lips move against the back of her head,
heard his controlled intake of breath.

“Reckon I oughta get back to the chair,” he said
regretfully. Elizabeth didn’t answer. He dared to hope. “Y’ think?”

There seemed to be so much riding on that question
that Elizabeth didn’t dare respond for fear that the moment would end... that
everything would end. She didn’t want it to be over, not ever. Jolted by that
revelation, she felt her heart begin to somersault against her ribs.

As though Cutter had read her thoughts, his
caresses lengthened in that instant, drifting seductively over her hip, her
thigh—everywhere but where she coveted his touch. Feeling wanton, she
shivered at the brazen turn of her thoughts.

And then, when she least expected it, his hand was
suddenly splayed over the sheets, over that most feminine part of her, drawing
her firmly against his arousal, wanting her to feel him... to know what he
wanted.

Elizabeth shivered with anticipation.

She wanted it, too.

How could something that felt so right be so
wrong? It just couldn’t.

Cutter didn’t remove his hand, but instead
lingered, pressing more provocatively, arousing her by increasing and
withdrawing the pressure. Despite the intensity of his passion, he stroked her
with controlled slowness, his body shuddering behind her. It sent another
shiver through her. Elizabeth was unable to restrain the moan that escaped her
constricting throat. With all her heart, she willed him to turn her around, to
kiss her now in that same slow, rhythmic way he’d kissed her earlier, but he
didn’t. His body only tensed behind her, until she could feel every tightly
coiled inch of him.

Every tightly coiled inch.

“Lizbeth,” he whispered thickly, still stroking
her. “Do you want me to go back to the chair?”

A strange panic beset her at the merest thought of
his leaving the bed. Her voice failing her, Elizabeth shook her head, wanting
him to stay, yet not able to speak the words.

Cutter kissed the back of Elizabeth’s head, brushing
aside the silky length of her hair with his chin. “Then ask me to stay,” he
whispered huskily, his lips so close to her neck that they burned, “‘cause I
won’t stay unless you do.”

“Stay!” she cried.

Cutter seized her shoulder, shifting as he forced her
abruptly onto her back to stare down into her face. Sweat beaded upon his brow
as he wove the golden strands of her hair through his fingers.

“Say it again,” he demanded softly, his eyes
slitting, penetrating her defenses. A fine sheen of moisture glistened over his
shoulders and chest; one drop trickled slowly down his temple, glistening in
the moonlight. “I wanna be sure I heard you right.”

Her own eyes slitted as Cutter once again began to
stroke her arms so softly, so slowly, so seductively, that it drew the words
from her lips, even when she was certain she hadn’t the courage for them. She
sighed, her voice trembling with the whispery pleasure he was bringing her.
“Stay with me, Cutter. Stay...”

For answer, Cutter groaned, lowering his mouth to
hers, brushing the smooth heat of his lips against her own, gently at
first—more tenderly than he ever had before—and then, when she
moaned against his lips, he leisurely deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue,
like liquid fire, between her teeth. Her breath broke at the renewed shock of
it, her hands going around his neck of their own accord. He tasted and smelled
of warm whiskey. Intoxicating.

With an oblivious groan, Cutter swept his tongue
into the sweet depths of Elizabeth’s mouth, savoring the incredible taste of
her. While he kissed her, his hand circled her trembling jaw, taming the
trembling. The answering beat of her pulse against his fingertips nearly sent
him over the edge. Hissing through his teeth, losing his reason, he slid his
hand lower, shoving the blanket way from her precious breasts with an eagerness
that surprised him. In that moment, he craved only the fullness of her flesh
against his lips.

Slowly his hands raised her camisole, his lips
seeking out their reward. But having bared her, he paused to drink in the
delicious sight of her beneath him. Unable to deny himself, he reveled in the
nipples that budded under the heat of his gaze. And then, most reverently, he
positioned the warmth of one palm over one firm mound, inhaling deeply as it was
unexpectedly thrust into his hands—an offering more magnificent than any
he’d ever been given. With a thick groan of passion, he kneaded it softly,
losing control over the satiny feel of it against his rugged skin. Felt so
good—so right in his hand.

“So hot,” Elizabeth moaned. His touch was so
hot—so deliciously hot. Like a cat, she arched against him, giving him
everything, everything, and then, suddenly, he was peeling the blankets
completely away with an urgency that startled her. In the next instant, he was
atop her, but Elizabeth welcomed his weight, rejoiced in it. She moaned with
the profound pleasure it gave her. His hands swept like wildfire over her body,
scalding where he touched. With a titillating rhythm of his own making, he
rocked against her, into her most intimate places, teasing until she thought
she would surely lose her sanity.

Unable to keep herself from it any longer,
Elizabeth lifted her trembling fingers to Cutter’s chest, wanting to touch him
in every way that he’d touched her. Following his lead, her hands slid down the
length of him, delighting in the male textures of his body.

In response, Cutter deepened the kiss, his tongue
stabbing swiftly, and for the first time, Elizabeth understood what it was that
gesture meant... because she wanted it, too... somewhere else... with the same
fervor and depth that he was giving her mouth...

And more.

Emboldened by her own rising passion, she slid her
hands down to his buttocks, raking him softly. But he jerked at her touch,
hissing through his teeth. Fearful that she’d hurt him, Elizabeth snatched her
hand away, but he caught it, drawing it back.

“No,” he murmured, “it was good.” He shuddered at
the feel of her small, cool fingers moving like whispery butterfly wings on his
thigh. “Damned good.” He released her at once, slipping his hands beneath her
back, sliding them down to cup her bottom, and then pressing himself against
her, rocking softly against her warmth and shuddering over the intensity of
feeling that surged through him.

More than anything, he wanted her naked just
now—stripped bare in his arms. Even down to her heart.

He wanted to see right into her soul.

To know if he was there.

As she was in his.

Elizabeth moaned, lifting herself against him,
seeking him out, telling him without words what she craved.

Cutter smiled, almost savagely, a feral gleam in
his eyes. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered huskily. If he couldn’t have
what he wanted of her, then he would at least hear from her own mouth what she
wanted of him.

Elizabeth followed him obliviously with her hips,
still unable to speak the words. And suddenly he was leaving her, and she cried
out at the unanticipated separation. But he didn’t go far. He knelt above her,
his smile knowing as his fingers caressed her once more, slipping seductively
into the waist of her drawers.

“This?” he asked with a gleam in his eye.

With a slowness that made her breasts ache, and
her eyes close with the spellbinding pleasure of it, he drew her drawers off.
She nodded unconsciously as heat coiled through her, savoring every sensation
as the soft, worn cotton slid down the length of her leg.

With a victorious growl, Cutter lifted her toe
into his mouth, nipping it gently, pressing his thumb into her sole, before
slipping her drawers off entirely. Discarding them, he bent to kiss her calves,
her knees, her thighs, making his way slowly back upward. As she writhed
helplessly with the incredible need he was rousing, Elizabeth’s nails raked the
sheets, clutching at them for sanity.

And then suddenly he was at her breast, drawing
her nipple firmly into his mouth, sucking it gently, as though it were his
greatest joy, his most cherished treasure. To her surprise, waves of ecstasy
burst through her, trysting and exploding somewhere deep within.

“Cutter,” she cried out. “Oh... Cutter—don’t
stop—don’t stop—don’t ever stop!”

For answer, Cutter’s breath hissed across the
wetness he’d lovingly painted upon her nipple, and then he moved to her other
breast, lavishing it with just as much care as he’d given the first, leaving
Elizabeth breathless with yearning. As Cutter feasted, her heart pounded,
leaping with each stimulating suckle into her throat. Moaning with the ecstasy
of it all, she curled her fingers through his hair, urging him closer without even
realizing.

Vaguely she became aware that his hands were
skipping so lightly over her skin, getting so close to that intimate place. Her
breath caught and held over his scandalous stroking. Yet, of their own accord,
her legs parted to give him better access, trusting him fully... wanting him to
work his magic.

Magic.

There was no other way to describe what he was
doing to her. Knowing exactly how to touch her to elicit pleasure, he cupped
her, the full, firm pressure and heat of his palm an aphrodisiac in itself. And
then his hand slid up, and ever so slowly he inserted the tip of one finger,
making small swirling motions just within, with slow, mesmerizing dips, going
deeper each time, as though he were stirring from her and tasting the sweetest
nectar. The feeling was exquisite beyond words, and she couldn’t bear it.