*Plotless Sweet Lovin’
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Matt grunted tiredly as he stiffly sank onto the rug in
front of the fireplace, unwilling to dirty Kitty’s nice settee with his
trail-dusty backside. Grimacing, he
yanked his old boots off one at a time and flexed his toes gratefully in the
radiating warmth of the crackling flames.
Rolling his shoulders and neck wearily, he groaned as he listened to the
sound of his bones angrily cracking and popping. The thought of a good night’s sleep after
his long, punishing ride from Hays City in the snowstorm was positively balm to
his soul, and he sighed at the prospect of curling up next to Kitty in her
comfortable brass bed.
The door to Kitty’s bedroom cracked open and he heard her
voice from the landing outside, “Night, Sam...and Merry Christmas. Be careful going home, you hear?” Then there was a listening pause and she
laughed merrily at some remark Sam called up to her, and the sound was like
sparkling champagne that Kitty had insisted he drink one New Year’s Eve. Just like that fancy drink, her laugh bubbled
right up to tickle and warm Matt’s insides and make him smile.
He turned his head just in time to see her glide in, her
silken dress and petticoats rustling as she walked towards him, the crimson
color stunning against her pale skin, fiery hair and vibrant blue eyes, even in
the shadowy light provided by the fireplace and a small lamp by the
bedside. She smoothed her skirts as she
lowered herself gracefully onto the settee and placed a gentle hand on Matt’s
rough, unshaven cheek. His mouth went
dry at the nearness of her, and he marveled that she could still do that to him
after the many years they’d been together.
He’d always thought Kitty Russell was the prettiest girl he’d ever laid
eyes on, and she could still devastate this tough old U.S. Marshall with the
smallest of touches and an affectionate glance into his wondering eyes. He was just reminded at how lucky he was to
have found such a woman who would put up with him for all this time after all
they’d been through.
“Come ‘ere, Cowboy...” she instructed, one corner of her
mouth knowingly turning up as he scooted over expectantly in front of her
feet. He sighed contentedly as her
fingers began kneading his neck and broad shoulders, working out the kinks he
always managed to get while riding long distances on the prairie. “How’s that feel?” she murmured, brushing a
hand over his temple and through his thick hair, her breath grazing coolly over
his skin. Her only answer was a grunt
like a big ol’ bear and another sigh as Matt’s head rolled until his chin
rested on his chest, relaxing and unwinding, slowly but surely as Kitty’s hands
worked their usual magic on his saddle-weary muscles.
A log shifted in the fireplace and sparks flew in the
dimly-lit room. Matt regretfully moved
away to add more wood and poke at the embers until it caught fire, the sap
sizzling and sputtering as it heated through.
As he settled back in front of her, she felt his warm hand on her foot,
unfastening delicate buttons with surprising deftness and slipping the leather
boot from her aching toes. She made a
noise low in her throat as he returned the favor, removing her other boot as
well and rubbing her tired feet, his thumbs deliciously massaging her arches,
until her eyelids were drifting shut.
Kitty roused a bit when she felt Matt lightly kissing her
inner ankle and his hands sliding warmly beneath her petticoats and over her
silk stocking-covered calves. She
hummed drowsily at the feel of those big, calloused hands, but her eyes flew
open when her mischievous cowboy’s head also ducked beneath her red silk dress
and his fingers began fumbling for the tie on her pantaloons. “Matt Dillon, what on earth...?” she croaked
sleepily. She distinctly heard him
chuckling from deep within the frilly layers of satin and ruffles and
lace.
“I knew you’d had too much to drink tonight... Oh!”
She quickly lifted her hips with his insistent prodding and he eagerly
slid the frilly garment down her legs, dropping them in a silky puddle on the
floor along with their abandoned boots.
His warm lips burned a fiery path slowly up her inner thigh,
kissing softly, kissing so very softly, his tongue trailing hotly, until she
could no longer sit still. She exclaimed
breathlessly, “I thought you were tired...oh my... “ Her head fell back against the settee as she
reveled in the feel of his scratchy beard against her bare skin, knowing she
would pay the price dearly tomorrow with raw whisker burn between her tender
thighs, but right now she didn’t give a damn because it felt so good, so, so
good. She sincerely hoped Sam was headed
home by now, because if he wasn’t, he could surely hear Kitty Russell was
having a high time upstairs at the Long Branch.
She managed to lift her head, fretting in a hoarse whisper,
“Matt, I know you can’t breathe...you’ve gotta come out from under...oh...there...right
there...” Her breath came in short gasps
and her head was swimming at the feel of her man’s mouth against her sensitive
flesh, but she managed to pull her voluminous skirts higher and bunch them around
her waist so he wouldn’t suffocate. Oh,
stars above, she could just see the headlines in the paper the next day if the
marshal of Dodge City smothered to death underneath Kitty Russell’s
skirts. “Oh, Matt...” she gasped as her
fingers fisted helplessly in his hair, the roaring fire warming her naked skin.
Molten to the core,
she could feel his scorching breath as he murmured against her throbbing
center, “Merry Christmas, Kitten.” His
hair rakishly rumpled from wickedly burrowing beneath her ladylike skirts, he
gazed hotly up at her for just an instant as he drank in the look of passionate
abandon he’d elicited on her pretty face.
With a dangerous twinkle in his eye and a crooked smile that always
proved to be her undoing, he muttered, “You know I love makin’ you purr,
honey...”
The rest was just a blur afterward, when her big, tough
lawman made her shatter into a million pieces with his sweet, tender
ministrations, holding her and stroking her and loving her as her body was
wracked with wave after wave of powerful sensation that absolutely drained her
and left her helpless and trembling.
As she lay back on the settee looking for all the world like
a beautiful but wilted crimson red poinsettia, she felt his soft lips brush
across her own and then, sweeping her into his powerful arms, he carried her to
the bed. Making quick work of the tiny
buttons down her back, she sleepily raised her arms as he lifted the dazzling
red garment over her head, draping it carefully over a nearby chair. He didn’t want to be the ruination of that
particular gown because he’d found it so completely captivating. Kitty Russell in that particular dress would
be haunting his lonely dreams when he was out on the barren prairie for a long
time to come, he was sure.
For the briefest moment, he considered leaving on the
remainder of her female unmentionables, but he felt the overpowering urge to
smooth his hands over her entire body, lay with her skin to skin and be able to
feel her heart beat next to his. And
truthfully, by this point in their long relationship, Matt Dillon was an expert
at hurriedly removing frilly women’s underthings. And so he was able to do so, carefully and
gently, like unwrapping a beautiful Christmas package, he thought, pausing only
to brush Kitty’s tousled curls off her sweat-dampened forehead. He placed a lingering kiss there as she
draped her arms limply around his neck.
Laying her back on the bed, he admired her creamy nakedness as she
stretched her arms languidly above her head on the pillow, waiting patiently
for him.
He shucked his own pants and
underclothes, anxious to taste her tight, pink rosebud nipples in his mouth,
slide his palms over every inch of her skin and sheath himself inside her
welcoming body.
She’d been watching him for some time through slitted
eyelids, but when he stood before her naked as the day he was born she sat up
slowly on the edge of the bed. One delicate
brow arched as she looked pointedly down.
He followed her gaze and saw she was gazing at his sock feet.
“You know, Matt, you always get better traction on the bed
sheets when you take those off, remember?”
A slow, lazy grin spread across his face as he answered, “Yeah,
you’re right, honey.” Stripping them
off, he stood before her appreciative scrutiny, part of his anatomy standing at
rigid attention.
“Mm-mm-mmm,” she said as she bit her lip, and called,
“C’mere, Cowboy,” for the second time that night in a low, inviting voice that
made her big, strong lawman shiver in anticipation. She drew him into her arms and nestled her
head against his sex, making him groan with the sensory overload—warm breath,
soft skin, flowing curls, gentle hands...
Then she rained kisses on the impressive, heated silky length of him and
suckled him into her mouth, pleasuring her man while his hands tangled in her
hair, pins scattering on the floor around them until he gave a hoarse cry for
her to stop. Pressing her back against
the bed, he covered her with his big body that was as hot as a blast furnace,
sliding his hands over her impossibly delicate, dewy skin and touching her
everywhere at once as she wrapped her long legs around his waist and whispered
urgently, “I want to feel you inside me...”
“I’d be glad to oblige you, little lady” he said with
clenched teeth, trying to hold back until he was within her satiny embrace. She made a soft mewling sound as he touched
the swollen, tender flesh between her legs and slipped easily into her velvety
opening in spite of his size. He kissed
her temple and moved slowly to prolong the heady ecstasy.
She breathed deeply as he moved within her body, gazing into
his eyes, remembering the first time Matt Dillon had touched her intimately, so
many years ago--how it had been a revelation.
Who’d have thought that a girl with her background could learn something
new about the art of love, but her sweet Cowboy had taught it to her, that’s
for certain. He was a generous and
patient lover who tended to her needs.
She’d never even considered that she’d had needs before she met
Matt. She realized she’d never really
known what love was until she crossed paths with the handsome young marshal of
Dodge City. Yes, he had indeed been a
revelation to a jaded, gun-shy young lady who’d been forced to use her body to
put food in her mouth and a roof over her head, and she shuddered to think what
would have become of her if he hadn’t come along.
A tear trickled from the corner of her eye down to the
pillow as they moved together as one, and he dipped his head low to kiss away
the saltiness. “What’s the matter,
honey?” he murmured, and she was looking into the same sweet, clear blue eyes,
fringed with long, thick lashes that she’d fallen in love with a dozen-odd
years ago.
Whispering, she answered lightly, “Not a thing...” and tried
to laugh, but her breath caught in her throat with another deep stroke of his
hard length within her.
She swallowed the
lump in her throat and said, “You kissed me in front of everybody tonight, Matt
Dillon.”
His hips moved slowly, slowly over her, making her gasp
while he answered, “I know I did, honey.
You’re not mad, are ya’?”
“No...Matt...” Her
voice was barely a whisper. “You’ve made
me so happy.”
Then he reached down and touched her, caressed her just
right, making Kitty arch her back and cry out with abandon again, a sound that
sent a shiver down his spine and made his toes curl. And when her intimate muscles embraced him
tightly, desperately, he was lost, lost in her warmth, hotly spilling his seed
inside of his sweet girl. They
collapsed, boneless and perspiring, entwined together as he whispered
insistently against her temple, “You’ve always made me happy, Kitty.”
“I have?”
He heard the snow and wind still howling outside the bedroom
window as he soaked in the sensations that surrounded him--the crackling of the
fire casting flickering shadows in the room, the big, warm brass bed, a full,
round stomach...but most of all the softness and comfort of Kitty’s body lying
nestled against him, deliciously skin to skin--always there for him whenever he
came back home. He didn’t know what he’d
do without her. He answered, “Yeah, you
have...and I guess it’s about time I showed it.”
Matt tucked the covers around her, wrapping a long arm
around her waist, and whispered, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”
“Merry Christmas, Cowboy,” she murmured groggily and contentedly
drifted off to sleep in his happy embrace.
end
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