Sagebrush Bride (40 page)

“Elizabeth,” he murmured, barely able to restrain
himself with the image of her heat flowing into his hand. “You feel so good...
” The silky coarseness of his beard caressed her belly as he lowered his head,
breathing in the scent of her. “I bet you taste even better.” He chuckled
wickedly, and shuddered with anticipation, moving down to discover if it was
so.

The top of his head receded, until…. “No!” she
cried out, closing her legs before he could reach his intended goal. “I—I
can’t... not... not yet.”

Yet?

Tilting his head to look up at her with those
black eyes, he scrutinized her a moment, the hunger in his gaze almost
volatile. Then, without warning, he moved up to lie beside her, catching her
about the waist and lifting her effortlessly above him for the briefest second.

“Then ride me,” he hissed.

In spite of the fact that Elizabeth had no idea
what he was asking of her, her heart leapt into her throat, her body thrilling
to the demand. Instinctively, still not understanding fully, she parted her
legs to sit astride him, and before she could find her tongue to ask, he was
impaling her, the tip of him begging entrance.

She whimpered with longing at the feel of him
entering so slowly, filling her so completely. Her body accommodated at once,
gliding over him with little effort, drawing him into her own with such ease
that it seemed they were made to be joined. In spite of her own trembling, she
felt him pulse beneath her. Still she didn’t quite understand, but feeling the
incredible urge to sheathe him fully, she did, tilting her hips instinctively.
Again Cutter shuddered. But Elizabeth only sat, confounded as to what to do
next. Her heart pounding, she drank in the intensity of his expression. His
face was full of strain, his eyes closed, his jaw taut with restraint. The
muscles in his arms tensed, and his fingers at her waist were actually...
trembling?

He touched her more firmly, guided her up the
length of him. “Ride me, Lizbeth,” he urged, a look of intense pleasure that
warred with pain on his face. Again, he shuddered, leading her smoothly down
over his erection. And then he opened his dark eyes, piercing her with the heat
of his gaze. They were smoldering, slitting—coming as close to pleading
as he was able. “Ride,” he whispered huskily, his neck arching, thrusting his
head back into the bed.

Finally comprehending, Elizabeth nodded, rocking
her hips, slowly. With her first stroke, Cutter bucked beneath her.

“Yes,” he hissed. “Christ, you feel good!” His jaw
clenched.

Now it was Elizabeth’s turn to shudder, her eyes
widening at the power she wielded over him. She needed no further prodding.
With every stroke she made over him, she died a thousand deaths. It was the
sweetest torture she had ever endured—ever!

Only, she was the one in control. She reveled in
the power it gave her over his body—over her own. The look on his face
alone was enough to send her spiraling over the edge—but she wasn’t ready
to relinquish so soon. Couldn’t. It was too good. Too hot. Too... too... Dear
God, it—it was too much!

Crying out at the exquisite feel of it, Elizabeth
braced her hands upon his feverish chest. His skin was damp with sweat, the
muscles in his neck and shoulders corded with the strain, but he allowed her to
ride on at her own rhythm. Then suddenly a muffled cry forced its way through
his clenched teeth and he stilled her hips, entrenching himself deeply, firmly,
within her body.

Throwing her neck back, Elizabeth moaned with the
incredible sensation of him pulsing within her. Her body strained to the feel
of it, throbbing for its own release. But Cutter held her too firmly, grunting
as though in pain when she moved at all, and so she was afraid to stir. But she
couldn’t bear not to... and then, without warning, her body began to convulse
around him. She whimpered, wanting so desperately to twist her hips and thrust
herself into the incredible abyss of pleasure that beckoned just beyond her
reach... so close—so close...

“Cutter!” she gasped.

Feeling her pulsate around him, he shifted
abruptly atop her, never allowing a separation of their bodies, drawing on the
last of his will in order to give her the pleasure he knew she sought. With a
last groan, he drove himself into the depths of her, shuddering with the
exquisite pain, spending the last of himself so deep within that he shuddered
at the ferocity of the eruption.

Beneath him, Elizabeth cried out. And then she
closed her eyes, surrendering with a shuddering breath, her release so
consummate that it left her spent.

And still, Cutter moved within her, drawing every
last murmur and sigh he could from her lips. He rocked her tenderly, his heart
in every stroke, wanting her never to forget. He wanted to brand her, wanted her
to cry out his name... and only his... the rest of her life.

Even when the violence of his release had ebbed at
last, and Cutter’s tremors ceased, his emotions remained high. His arms
enfolded her, not wanting to let go. He fought the urging of his aching body as
his eyelids grew heavy, and caressed her hair away from her damp face as she
wearily closed her eyes, not wanting to close his own for fear that he would
find the sun rising on them when he opened them again. Morning would only bring
them all that much closer to Sioux Falls.

And to the end of their charade.

The thought that she would no longer need him then
twisted his gut, made him violently ill. But he fought the unanticipated wave
of nausea, never more unwilling to release her than he was in that instant.

All his life something had beckoned him on.

All his life he’d wandered in search of it.

And only now, this moment, did he finally and
truly understand what it was that had driven him forever onward, with a
wanderlust stronger than any he’d ever known. His search was finally over, he
sensed, and felt deeply at ease with that knowledge—the only problem was
in convincing Elizabeth.

Filling his lungs with the sweet scent of her, he
eased his weight off her, then, lured by the temptation of her lush curves,
lowered his head to her breast, kissing it reverently, before nestling in to
listen to the steady, cajoling beat of her heart. Without looking, he knew that
she slept, but he couldn’t—not with his heart hammering so ruthlessly...
not with her arms wrapped so lovingly about his neck, her fingers still
entwined in his hair.

It felt too good.

What had she expected? Elizabeth reproached
herself. That he would have demanded they stay and role-play the rest of their
lives? Why should he have wished to? Just because she’d never wanted it to end?
Besides, the longer they remained, the more difficult it would’ve been to
leave. And she’d been right in pressing Cutter to go. She had obligations to
see to in Sioux Falls.

‘‘Nothing lasts forever,” she reminded herself
petulantly.

Cutter arched his dark brows. “What was that?”

Katie, who was sitting in Cutter’s
lap—wearing his hat—looked up at her new uncle adoringly, and
Elizabeth felt more than a twinge of guilt for deceiving the poor child. How
was she going to feel to find that the uncle she was beginning to fall in love
with, to trust in, was not her uncle after all, but only a man hired to play
the part? Why had she ever thought it a good idea? It was a ridiculous idea!
And one that was bound to break hearts—Katie’s as well as her own!

Though Katie was obviously excited about the trip
to Sioux Falls, she seemed a little blue, as well. Elizabeth thought it was
likely she was already missing her grandfather, but there wasn’t much she could
do about that. Elias had made it clear that, though he loved his granddaughter,
he was too old to be raising her. And he was probably right. Besides, he and
Miss Mimi deserved time for themselves.

“I think Aunt Lizabeth said that this ride is way
too long,” Katie told him, with an exasperated sigh. “And I think she’s right!
I think it’s gonna last forever and ever and ever!”

Cutter chuckled, and Elizabeth smiled at the
indignant tone of Katie’s voice.

“Because I’m sleepy!” Katie added plaintively.

“I know,” Cutter sympathized. “Think you can hang
on awhile longer?” In the week since he’d met the kid, he’d grown as fond of
her as Elizabeth had. When he looked at her sometimes, he could almost believe
she was his own, with her dark hair and eyes. Falling into the role of father
could be so easy.

“Uh-huh,” Katie replied as she began to squirm.

But Cutter didn’t notice her desperate gesture,
and even if he had, he wouldn’t have understood what it meant. As it was, his
thoughts were somewhere else entirely. He patted her head in answer, pulling
her back to rest against his chest. She’d ridden for the last three hours in
his saddle, speaking little but for an interjection here and there to her whiny
little dog.

She’d insisted on bringing Shiftless
along—swore she couldn’t live without the mutt. And Cutter thought he
understood. From what he’d gathered, Shiftless had become her living anchor.
Shiftless, for his part, seemed a little less loyal. Every so often the dog
would stop to whine and wag its tail, then it would dash a few feet to the
rear, only to stop again and bark for them to turn around. But because there
was nothing Cutter could do about the dog’s distress, he ignored it, and Katie
usually managed to solve that problem on her own.

With only a gently spoken word or two from her,
Shiftless would once again follow blindly, wagging his tail as he dogged the
Palouse’s hooves. As Cutter saw it, Katie had been raised with the dog, and
Shiftless was, more like than not, the one link to her past she couldn’t let go
of—didn’t have to, as far as he was concerned.

But that was the problem. Unconsciously his hand
went about her waist, hugging her fondly as he acknowledged the facts: As it
stood, Katie wasn’t legally his concern. Nor was Elizabeth. And he was
contemplating how to best bring that subject up. And wondering how it would be
received when he did.

Did Elizabeth really hold his ancestry against
him? She’d said that she’d lost her mother and sister because of his people. He
could only wonder at the meaning of that. Did she really blame him because
Cheyenne blood burned through his veins? It burned for her. With a sigh, he
rubbed his jaw, his gaze drawn like a magnet to Elizabeth. Despite the fact
that she was exhausted from a night gone without sleep, she sat straight in the
saddle; the only sign of fatigue was the fact that her eyes were squinted.

Katie began to rock frantically. “Gotta go!” she
whispered urgently, but only an instant later, before Cutter could even blink
an eye, a telltale warmth crept under his hindquarters. Katie stiffened. Cutter
froze, glancing down warily at the child in his saddle.

Naw, he thought, shaking his head. She couldn’t
have. Could she? His face screwed with disbelief. Damn him, if it didn’t feel
like it, though! His nostrils flared and he swore he could smell it, as well.
But hell, it couldn’t be! Not in his brand-spanking-new saddle? Damned thing
was little over two months old!

“Ya know what, Uncle Cutter?” Katie said
impetuously, lifting her chin high. But she didn’t look up at him as she spoke,
and her little shoulders were still tense. Cutter dreaded her next words.

“I’m soooo proud of myself!”

Just as sure as eggs were eggs, the wetness seeped
up from his good saddle into his denims. Cutter silently cursed a blue streak.
Stunned as he was, he couldn’t find his voice to answer the kid. Had he really
thought he’d make a good parent? Hell, he hadn’t even considered asking whether
she’d needed to relieve herself! Neither had Elizabeth, for that matter. He
turned to give her a cutting glance, and was surprised to find that she
returned it.

“Why is that?” Elizabeth asked Katie, when it was
apparent Cutter wasn’t going to.

Katie nodded soberly. “Because, Aunt Lizabeth. I
held my pee for sooooooo long!” There was unconcealed pride in her tone.

Elizabeth’s eyes went wide at Katie’s revelation,
and her first instinct was to laugh, but Cutter’s disgusted scowl and Katie’s
anxious expression kept her from it. Her hand flew to her mouth.

“Son of a-”

“Cutter!” Elizabeth gasped, stifling her mirth. And
then, unable to restrain herself, she burst into shrieks of hysteria, doubling
over in the saddle with the force of it.

Cutter only gave her a narrow-eyed look, warning
her without words that she was gonna pay with the skin of her ass if she didn’t
quit.

Damn her anyway—Katie hadn’t uttered a word
until she was actually pissing in his lap! How was he supposed to know to keep
asking after her personal needs? In that respect, the kid had everything in
common with her blasted aunt; one would rather chew sand than ask for a
toothbrush, while the other would just as soon pee where she sat than mention
the fact that she had to take a leak. Cussin’ females!