This chapter is intended for mature audiences.
Matt knocked on Kitty’s door, very lightly, not wanting to wake her if she was still asleep. Carrying a breakfast tray from Delmonico’s in one hand, as he had every morning this week since they’d gotten back in town, Matt listened for sounds of stirring within. “Come in,” a small, drowsy voice called out. Smiling, he opened the door and strode into her bedroom, raising the blinds with one hand to let the late morning sun stream across the bed.
He’d found he highly enjoyed how the light set Kitty’s red hair on fire and made her pale skin seem even more luminescent. She sometimes objected good-naturedly, shading her eyes with her hands or covering her face with the sheet, but he ignored her complaints. The sight of Kitty relaxed and sleep-tousled and surrounded by sunbeams took his breath clean away.
He’d promised Doc he would help make sure she was eating right, not just beer, pretzels, boiled eggs and other barroom fare, and that she got plenty of rest. “REST,” Doc had stated unequivocally and undeniably with a firm look on his face, emphatically pointing his finger until Matt’s face colored and he ducked his head. “I told her no excitement for at least a few more days. Do you understand me, young Mr. Marshal?”
He understood. No excitement. Each evening he’d stopped by the Long Branch at the end of his rounds. Each evening she’d said good night to Sam and he’d walked her upstairs. She’d offered him a nightcap and they’d shared their day until he regretfully said he needed to be getting on back.
And then each evening he’d kissed her goodnight. He’d start slow and gentle, but her lips were so soft and pliable and her tongue tasted like smoky-flavored whiskey and her mouth was so slick and warm and wet. He’d feel himself responding to the small sounds she made and the way her hands desperately threaded through his hair, her body pressing hungrily against his. And then he’d break away, breathless, and say, “Goodnight, honey.”
“Oh, Matt,” she’d say mournfully.
And he would place a finger to her lips, and she’d kiss the tip, and he’d say, “Doc would kill me, sweetheart. I want you to be well.”
“Oh, Matt,” she’d breathe again, brows knitting together, and he’d place a firm kiss on those swollen lips of hers, backing out the door as he clumsily put his hat on.
“Soon...” he’d say. “Soon.”
Then he’d bring her breakfast with a smile each morning, hoping that the good food and good company would speed her recovery. He couldn’t imagine the conversation he’d need to have with Doc to get her cleared for, uh, physical activity. He turned pink to the tips of his ears just thinking about it.
Matt turned from where he’d adjusted the window blind to let the yellow-gold light of morning spill into the room and faced the bed. Kitty Russell lay with only a sheet covering her, and his mouth fell open at the sight. This morning he could tell by the way the sheet draped over her that she was wearing absolutely nothing underneath. He could see every generous curve of her body outlined in the thin fabric which clung to her like a second skin. His mouth ran dry and he forgot what he was going to say.
She propped herself up with her elbows behind her. “You gonna stand there holdin’ that all day?” she asked him in amusement, nodding toward the tray of food.
“No! Here... I brought you some... yeah...” He placed it on the nightstand, then swallowed hard when she patted the bed beside her. He gingerly sat facing her.
“Gimme a bite of that bacon,” she said as she scrubbed at her eyes with the ball of one hand.
He handed it to her and she broke it in half, popping one piece into her own mouth and the other into his. He grinned at her as he chewed and she grinned back. He was terrible about stealing her food, and she knew it.
“Another bite?” he asked and she nodded, dragging her fingers through her loose hair. He noticed the clothes she’d worn the night before were scattered carelessly around the room, on the floor, on the furniture, at the foot of the bed. Rich plum-colored silk dress, frilly petticoats, beribboned corset and lacy satin pantaloons...
He broke another piece of bacon in half to share with her, and as she shifted toward him, the sheet slipped down, revealing soft, creamy shoulders to his hungry gaze. His mouth was watering by now, and it wasn’t just because of the breakfast they were sharing. He longed to taste Kitty as well.
Clearing his throat, he quipped, “Better be careful, Kitty. You’re liable to catch cold sleeping like that,” as his eyes raked over her cotton-swathed body.
He quickly popped another bite into her mouth and she nipped playfully at his finger, grinning as she chewed.
“Ow! You’re a little firebrand, you know that?”
“So they tell me,” she replied, one brow delicately arched. The corners of her mouth turned up the slightest bit, and then she scooted over on the bed, patting the warm space beside her. “Come ‘ere, Cowboy.”
Matt thought for only half a second, gnawing on his last bite of bacon, before he kicked off his dirty boots and eagerly stretched back on the pillow beside her. She reached over, removing his hat and tossing it onto the bedpost, then smiled enigmatically at him. Leaning over him, she gave his cheek a lingering kiss, her tousled hair falling into her eyes. Then she whispered in his ear, “I want you to touch me, Matt.”
At her seductive words, his breath came more quickly as his gaze searched her pretty face. Reaching down, she tugged the sheet from her body, revealing herself to him in the slanting light of an ordinary Tuesday morning. The vision made his head spin. White shoulders, bare breasts, softly rounded stomach with generous, womanly hips, a thatch of enticing auburn curls at the juncture of long, smooth legs. He could feel himself drowning in her loveliness.
“Touch me, Matt...”
His head felt as though it was swimming as he reached for her, softly, gently, barely skimming the tips of his fingers over her slim throat. She closed her eyes at the sensation. He traced his fingers slowly down, down, groaning as he cupped her voluptuous breast in one palm. Leaning on one elbow, he circled one pink rosebud nipple with his middle finger, softly, softly, and then the other, until her breath came faster and she made a small sound in her throat.
Suddenly her hand covered his, and she entwined her fingers in his own, urging his touch downward. Their hands skimmed together, slowly, over her ribcage, still faintly discolored from her captor’s abuse, and the pain in his chest at the sight reminded him again how much he loved her. Their hands inched infinitesimally as one over her soft belly, and he could feel her breath quickening, quickening with desire. He parted the soft, fiery curls that crowned her thighs, and again, she whispered, “Touch me...”
At the moment his rough, calloused fingers touched her soft, yielding woman’s flesh her eyes opened wide with wonder and she drew in a breath. Parting her legs, she offered herself to him and cried out, overwhelmed at the sensation of her sweetheart’s touch. She let him explore her most secret spots, arching her back in utter abandon. He suckled her breasts, traced his wet tongue around her bellybutton, kissed her eager lips that murmured insensibly under his ministrations, over and over and over until she was breathless.
“Oh, Matt,” she whispered, “Don’t stop...don’t stop...” and he stroked and petted and fondled until her breasts heaved and her hips undulated rhythmically and she sobbed out loud. Then, with a sharp cry, she shuddered fiercely, straining against his hand, and he reveled in the feeling of her body responding so completely to his touch.
With her eyes closed, she moaned, “What did you just do to me?”
Suckling a tantalizing straining pink nipple, he murmured against her flesh, “Only what you asked me to...”
With trembling hands, she cradled his head to her breast, observing in wonderment, “I always dreamed of the day you’d touch me like this.”
“You did?” His voice rose a notch.
“Yess... “ she ended in a sibilant hiss as his wandering hands managed to touch her in the perfect spot. “Don’t tell me you never thought of me...?”
“Aw, Kitty...”
She threaded her fingers through his thick, dark curls, “Come on, Matt. Sometimes at night when you couldn’t go to sleep, didn’t you think of me a little?”
When he blushed to the tips of his ears, she smiled because she had her answer. She rolled lazily on her side and propped her head on one elbow, her fingers slowly unbuckling his belt. “Are you ready to find out, Cowboy?”
He smiled a crooked little smile at her as she slowly unbuttoned his pants. “Ready as I’ll ever be, honey.”
End
ljljljljlj
No comments:
Post a Comment