Carter, Beth D. - Lawless Hearts (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 6

  “Take him into your mouth,” Cassidy ordered.

  Scharlie’s heart raced, and she swallowed thickly, trying to come to terms with what Cassidy asked of her and the reference she remembered in the book. As she hesitated, she saw a drop of moisture appear at the tip of Garrett’s penis, and before she could think about anything else, she licked it. The taste was slightly bitter, as if too much salt had been added. But it wasn’t awful. In fact, it lit a fire in her belly that was unlike anything she had felt before.

  Garrett put his hand on her head and guided her forward. This time, she didn’t hesitate. She reached for his shaft, finding the skin easily slid back to reveal the thick and heavy head. For a moment, she envisioned this huge cock seesawing into her, and the mental picture caused a sudden rushing of juice between her legs. Scharlie squirmed a bit, trying to appease the hunger that gripped her, to no avail.

  “Take him into your mouth, Scharlie,” Cassidy ordered again. “Suck him down.”

  With his demanding and with Garrett’s urging, she closed her lips around him. Immediately, she tasted more of Garrett’s bitter essence, but it was a flavor she quickly adapted to. She ran her tongue around the head, up the slit, milking him for more.

  “Holy shit,” Garrett muttered. His fingers tightened in her hair. It was the only placed he touched her.

  As she got used to the feeling of having his penis in her mouth, Scharlie went further, pushing the foreskin back more as she slid her mouth further down. The head hit the back of her throat, causing her to momentarily gag, but she discovered if she relaxed her throat and shifted him a bit, she could get more of him in her mouth. He was big and hard, and she loved the velvety smoothness of his skin.

  “Garrett, fuck her face,” Cassidy commanded.

  Before she had time to ponder what that meant, Garrett’s hips moved, pulling back and then going forward. It wasn’t enough to cause her too much distress, and she easily found the rhythm. She reached up to hold on to his hips as he rocked to and fro.

  Garrett moaned, and he increased his pace, flexing faster into the moist cave of her mouth. Scharlie sucked harder, instinctively knowing how much Garrett liked what she was doing to him. Her cheeks caved in with every thrust, and soon he took over the rhythm, pushing her head forward and back quickly.

  “Come in her mouth, Garrett,” Cassidy told him, his own voice sounding heavy.

  Scharlie felt Garrett tense beneath her hands. His cock swelled in her mouth, and then suddenly he let out a low growl as he erupted. His essence was thick and creamy, sweet and salty at the same time. Scharlie was unsure what to do with it, so she swallowed.

  When he was done, he let out a deep, contented sigh and collapsed. His hand left her head as he lay back, eyes closed and chest heaving. Scharlie watched him, wiping her lips free of saliva.

  Cassidy’s hand grabbed her upper arm and pulled her to stand. He spun her and immediately engulfed her in his arms, his mouth crashing down onto hers. He crushed her body to his, and she felt their limbs entwining together, legs to legs, hips to hips, and chest to chest. His tongue tangled with hers, dancing together as he lifted her up and backtracked to the bedroom, leaving Garrett sprawled on the blanket, watching them.

  Once in the bedroom, he stepped back. “Unbutton your shirt,” he instructed.

  She obeyed without hesitation, her fingers quickly freeing the material and taking it off her shoulders. It fluttered to the ground. Only a chemise separated her breasts from his eyes.

  “Now your skirt.”

  Again, Scharlie did his bidding. She stood before him, chest heaving in excitement as she waited for his next dictate. He perused her up and down before bending to take her puckered nipple, visible through her thin chemise, into his mouth. She gasped and arched her back as pleasure shot down her spine.

  “You like that?” he asked, lifting his head.

  Scharlie nodded, waiting. He reached for the ribbon that held her chemise up and pulled it loose. The material fluttered to pool around her feet, leaving her before him, naked and exposed.

  But before she could let that settle into embarrassment, Cassidy ducked his head again and took both of her breasts in his hands. He brought the right up first to suck on the nipple, pulling on the turgid point gently with his teeth while his fingers rolled the left one between his fingers. The sensations tore through her like a tornado, leaving her weak in the knees and yearning for more.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  He let her go and stepped back. His eyes had narrowed into slits, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. He may like to give commands, but Scharlie realized he was just as affected by the foreplay as she was.

  “Take off my clothes like you took Garrett’s off,” he told her.

  Scharlie moved in a daze, turned on by her shamelessness. She felt empowered by his response to her even though he was the one giving all the orders. Her hands trembled as she fumbled to remove his clothing. His cock jutted proudly in front of him, and she could see the tip of it weeping with juice.

  Cassidy took hold of her upper arms and walked her backward to the bed. When her knees connected, she fell and immediately scooted herself back as Cassidy stalked her on his hands and knees, like a lion getting ready to pounce his prey.

  And just as his body covered hers, he balanced on his knees and flipped her onto her stomach. Scharlie grunted as Cassidy hiked her hips upward, and she used her arms to keep from being smothered by her pillow.

  His hands gripped her hips tightly as he leaned over her back to whisper in her ear, “Do you want me to fuck you, Scharlie? You have to tell me.”

  Almost beyond words, she nodded.

  “Tell me!”

  “Yes!” she panted. “Take me. Fuck me. Please!”

  That was all the urging he needed. His thumb slid down to find her wet slit and used that as a guide to fill her with one thrust. Both gasped at the electric shock of being joined for the first time. He felt different than Garrett, thicker perhaps. Cassidy wrapped his free arm around her as he rocked in and out, not letting her escape for one moment. He possessed her, dominated her, but she loved every part of it. His thumb moved up her crack until it found her puckered hole, and, using some of the moisture from their joined bodies, slipped into her back door.

  At first it was uncomfortable, a harsh intrusion to the bliss she felt as he pumped into her. She squirmed, trying to get away, but Cassidy’s hold was much stronger. Wet slurping noises filled the room with each thrust. The smell of sex invaded her nostrils. She felt wild, a savage, primitive beast without thought beyond the pleasure of it. Cassidy was relentless, pounding into her until their bodies were slick with sweat. She wanted more and started moving her hips back to meet every move of thrusts. His thumb went deeper and mimicked his cock, in and out, in and out. She moaned. She thrashed. She panted out her need.

  “More,” she cried. “Harder! Yes! Yes! Cassidy!”

  The plateau fell from under her, and for a moment she soared. Rapture, pure euphoria, carried her away.

  It took her a few seconds to realize that Cassidy was still. When the haze cleared from her eyes, she saw that he watched her with a feral light in his eyes. He withdrew from her and turned her over.

  “What—” she started to say, but shut up as Cassidy stuck his index finger into her mouth.

  “Suck it,” he ordered. “Pretend it’s Garrett’s cock.”

  She did as she was told, tasting a musky tartness and realizing it must be her own essence. Behind her, Cassidy raised her hips and spread her legs apart, exposing her most intimate place.

  He leaned in and blew against it, startling her. And then his other hand collected her cream and rubbed against her back hole. She moaned, half-afraid and half-excited.

  And then he was over her, pushing in, going very slowly. It hurt, more than she thought it would, and burned. She shifted and tried to pull away, but he held her firmly and pushed his finger even more into her mouth. She used it to bite, knowing she caused him j
ust as much pain as he was causing her, but rather than stop, Cassidy simply moaned and pushed more.

  Then finally he was seated all the way inside her. She stopped biting and breathed, and for moment neither of them moved. The pain subsided from her ass, the burning turning into something different. And then he pulled back before pushing back in, and Scharlie realized that the burn had twisted into unbelievable pleasure.

  Again he withdrew only to plunge back, and this time Scharlie met his thrust.

  “That’s it, baby,” he grunted. “Your ass is so tight! Fuck me with it.”

  The dirty words only added to the intensity of the act. In and out Cassidy fucked her with deep strokes. He took away his finger to grip her hips, and she reached with her finger to touch her clit, massaging it in time with his thrusts.

  Suddenly he gave a strangulated cry. Scharlie felt warmth flood her inside, and another crest of passion swept over her. Cassidy was gasping, clutching her hips, giving a few last ardent thrusts. She felt their combined passion trickling down her thighs, and then he collapsed onto her, flattening her to the bed.

  She was exhausted, replete. Cassidy moved off her, to the side, his arm cradled around her. She felt his lips on her shoulder just as she tumbled into a dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Ten

  Two days later, Scharlie was in her small garden, weeding, enjoying the warm weather. Cassidy and Garrett had gone into town for supplies, and she had decided to tend to her very broken vegetable patch. The tornado had ripped most of it away, but enough had been spared to give her an adequate supply for this year’s canning.

  After a few hours in the sun, she decided to take a break and headed toward the house. She took off her hat and wiped her face with her apron. When she pushed open the front door, the smell of cigar hit her, and she paused, eyes wide. Unease traveled over her skin like wisps of smoke because even though nothing in the house was disturbed, Scharlie knew that someone had been there. The cigar smell was thick and cloying, almost choking her with the lingering fumes.

  Her first instinct was to run away, leave the house and find Cassidy and Garrett. But sanity returned. If someone had been in the house, then she had to make sure whoever it was had left, and she had no idea when the men would be back.

  Moving cautiously, Scharlie immediately went into the kitchen, where she grabbed a knife. The tornado had taken all her utensils with it, but Angie Kern had given her a new set when she and her husband, Tom, had come out last weekend. The knife’s blade gleamed brightly from being new.

  The only room closed off from the living and eating area was the bedroom, whose door was closed. She couldn’t remember if she had left it open or not. She stepped hesitantly, her heart hammering in her chest. Her mouth was dry, and she felt like she could vomit any moment.

  She paused for a moment, hand on the door, gathering her courage. Then, with a deep breath, she flung open the door, the knife raised high. Her gaze swung around the room, and her held breath left her lungs with a swoosh. She lowered the knife down to her side and let it slide onto the floor with a dull thump.

  The room was empty, but it hadn’t been left alone. Someone had gone through her belongings. Her clothes were strewn about the room, lying in heaps upon the floor. The mattress had been cut, exposing the horsehair-and-cotton padding, and pushed off the rope frame. And her book, her precious, dirty little secret, lay open. A knife stuck out of the center of it.

  The smell of cigar fumes made her sick to her stomach. Scharlie turned and ran from the house, holding a hand to her mouth. Once outside, she fell to her knees as dry heaves took over her body. Since she hadn’t had anything to eat, only clear bile burned her mouth as she spit it out. Shivers took hold of her, and she curled her arms around herself in an effort to ward off the chill that had settled in her bones.

  Someone had been in her home. Someone had violated her in the most horrible, basic way. Scharlie felt exposed, rubbed raw. The day had darkened, and her home didn’t feel safe anymore. Suddenly the world around her had an air of sinister threat that hadn’t existed only moments before.

  The sound of thundering horses trickled to her, making her stand. Her heartbeat matched the sound, and she ran to a nearby tree to hide as she watched to see who the riders were.

  She saw Cassidy and Garrett and flew from behind the tree. Now that a semblance of safety had shown up, terror completely engulfed her. The stress of the past few minutes left her light-headed as tears welled in her eyes and poured over her cheek.

  The horses came to a skid in the yard, and Cassidy and Garrett practically flew off them to grab her.

  “Scharlie! What happened?” Cassidy asked as he pulled her into his arms.

  “Someone…someone in the house,” she managed to say.

  Garrett pulled his gun out of his holster and immediately headed for the house. Cassidy remained, holding her, though he pulled out his gun as well and shielded her with his body.

  They watched as Garrett circled around the house once, looking in the windows. He crept up the steps, onto the porch, and pushed open the door. He went inside.

  “No one is in there now,” she whispered. “But someone had been while I was working in the garden.”

  Cassidy’s arm tightened around her.

  In a moment, Garrett came back out and walked toward them. A grim slash flattened his lips, and a frown marred his forehead.

  “Cigar smoke,” he told Cassidy.

  “Fuck!”

  Scharlie jumped from the venom in Cassidy’s voice.

  “We have to tell her.”

  “No,” Cassidy said.

  “We don’t have a choice. He’s here.”

  “What’s going on?” she cried. “Who’s here?”

  Cassidy and Garrett stared at one another. They seemed to be speaking to each other without words, and their silence stretched all her nerves to the breaking point.

  “What is it you’re not telling me?” she yelled, demanding, pulling out of Cassidy’s arm and glaring at them.

  “Scharlie—” Cassidy began.

  “No!” she interrupted. “My house has been violated! Someone came in and destroyed my things, so it’s time you told me everything.”

  He sighed and ran a hand through his curls. “Breaux Cox smokes cigars.”

  It took a moment for the words to sink in. “Oh my God. Is he the one who did this? Is he here, in Rock Ridge?”

  They didn’t confirm her question, but then again, she wondered who else it could be.

  “He killed Harlow. What does he want with me?”

  “Shit,” Garrett swore, running a hand through his hair. “They must have followed us.”

  She looked back and forth between them. “Who are ‘they’?”

  “Cox rides with two men named Mitch Cautling and Lee Barnes,” Cassidy answered.

  She blinked. Dread washed through her body. “What do you mean by that? And how do you know their names?”

  When he hesitated, Garrett answered. “Because we rode with them.”

  She shifted her attention. “Rode with them. You and Cassidy.”

  “And Harlow.”

  “No!”

  Garrett grabbed her shoulders, but she shook him off and backed away.

  “Outlaws,” she whispered, eyes wide. “You’re telling me all of you…you’re outlaws.”

  “Scharlie—”

  “Yes,” Cassidy answered.

  “Cass!” Garrett protested.

  Cassidy pinned him with a hard glare but answered her. “It’s complicated, Scharlie. Harlow, Garrett, and I met up with Breaux Cox and his men, and we all figured six was a good round number.”

  “You make it sound so ordinary,” she replied bitterly. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Why did you come here? Why did you let me know about Harlow? Why did you make me—”

  She stopped and abruptly turned away. She wouldn’t, couldn’t, reveal that she had fallen in love with them because they didn’t deserve that type of respect.
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br />   “You’re bad men,” she said sadly.

  “Breaux Cox is a bad man,” Cassidy told her.

  She spun, angry. “You’ve killed people, haven’t you?”

  “I told you, it’s complicated.”

  “The truth, Cassidy! You’ve killed people. You’ve hurt people.”

  It seemed to take forever for him to answer. “Yes.”

  Scharlie felt her heart crumble. Tears coursed down her face. “And what was I? Did you like hurting me? Taking advantage of me?”

  She saw his jaw lock as he turned away.

  “No,” Garrett answered for him. “It’s not like that.”

  “Garrett!” Cassidy replied in a warning tone.

  “I won’t have her thinking we used her, Cass!” Garrett reached out and grabbed her hand and pulled her away from Cassidy. She stumbled after him, trying to keep her footing. Finally they came to the new barn, and he let go of her hand, only to spin around and pin her with his dark, turbulent eyes.

  “I can’t speak for Cassidy, even though I know he feels the same as I do. I can only tell you what’s in my heart.” He touched his chest. “But I’ve known you for so long. Harlow would tell us stories about you, share the letters you wrote to him when they caught up with us, and every time he said your name, I fell more and more in love with you.”

  “How can I believe you? Everything you’ve told me so far has—”

  “Been to protect you,” he finished. “Scharlie, I knew all about what happened between your stepfather and Harlow. How you were hurt, badly, and how he defended you. Is it so hard to believe now that Cassidy and I wouldn’t continue to protect you as much as possible?”

  She shook her head as her tears spilled down her cheeks. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

  He cupped her face and wiped the tears away with his thumbs. “All you need to think about is this.”

  His mouth swooped down and landed on hers. His kiss was gentle, yet firm. As his lips moved over hers enticingly, she seduced with her own, inviting him in. Her body came to life as he mastered her with only a kiss. And even though she wanted to throw away her doubts, the truth burned its way into her brain, forcing her to remember that this man was no good.