until his shirt lay open, peeled back from his broad chest. She threaded her fingers
though his chest hair, tracing spirals and whorls, plucking playfully at the crisp curls.
His fingers were smoothing her hair.
“Sheriff Gilchrist says he found a plot of land behind the mercantile store that you
can buy,” she told him. “It has a wonderful view of the creek where everyone goes
swimming.”
His arm constricted around her and his hand stilled on her head. “You don’t go
swimming, do you?” he asked.
She lifted her head. “Not if you don’t want me to,” she answered.
He looked into her lovely gray eyes. “Do you know how to swim?” he asked.
“Aye, but I know you can’t so if you—”
“I always wanted to learn but now it’s a moot point,” he said. His forehead creased.
“Are you a good swimmer, Lea?”
“A very strong swimmer,” she said. “But—”
“Then I see no reason why you can’t continue as long as there are others around
who could aid you if you needed them,” he said. “I don’t want to change your life so
drastically that you will hate me for it.”
She reached up to stroke his lean jaw, rubbing her palm over his whiskers and
loving the sensation. “Nothing could ever make me hate you, milord. I will love you for
as long as I draw breath, and if there is truly a land beyond, I will continue to love you
through eternity.”
How, he wondered, had he chanced upon such a treasure as the one he held in his
arms? For once life wasn’t kicking his ass but extending a friendly hand to him. He only
hoped the Fates did not decide happiness for Bevyn Coure had been a mistake.
“I’d like to see that land,” he said, and released his firm hold on her.
Lea wriggled off him, gazing pointedly at his cock. She giggled. “Hanging there like
that, your staff looks like a snail trying to come out of its leather shell.”
Bevyn glanced down at his shaft. “Aye, well, why don’t you stuff him back in,
wench?” he challenged.
She knew by the look on his face he didn’t expect her to take up the gauntlet he’d
thrown so when she reached for him and wrapped her slender fingers around him, he
drew in a ragged gasp.
“Poor little fella,” she said.
“Wench,” he said in warning, feeling himself harden in her hand. “You’d best not
grip him like that else…” He stopped for her eyes were glowing with heat and when
she bent over, he held his breath, afraid even to move.
Though she had never lain with a man before her Reaper, Lea had heard the other
women talking over the months she’d worked at the White Horse. Mable had also given
her a few tips while Bevyn had been gone and though Lea didn’t think she’d ever use
53
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
the saloonkeeper’s advice, she wasn’t so sure when her man’s rod responded as it did to
just her touch.
The Reaper’s hands shot to the headboard of the bed the moment his lady’s mouth
closed around him. His entire body shook for just a second or two as the warmth and
the wetness surrounded him, and he felt the gentle pulling of her lips and the roof of
her mouth on his suddenly stiff cock.
“Oh my god,” he breathed, his chest shuddering. He stared down at the top of her
head as she placed herself between his legs, elbowing aside his thighs as he’d done with
hers. He nearly came out of his skin when she insinuated a hand into his pants to cup
his balls as she suckled him. As it was, he let go of the headboard just long enough to
wave his clothing away, the heat of the leather on his legs and the cling of the silk on his
chest too much to bear.
Lea smiled around the salty treat between her lips. She raised her gaze to his and
when she winked at him, she watched the most breathtaking smile pull at his lips.
“You wicked little wench,” he told her, and sucked in another quick breath when
she raked him gently with her teeth.
She would have milked him to release had he not reached down to cup her
shoulders and pull her up him.
“Straddle me,” he said in a husky voice. “Let me come inside you, dearling.”
“Fan away my dress then,” she said.
He shook his head. “No, I want you just as you are.”
Wrestling with her long skirts, she managed to pull them up, pouting at his refusal
to unclothe her. Doing as he instructed, she eased herself down on his hard cock, her
eyes widening at the wonderful sensation that greeted her.
“Ooh,” she said. “He’s so deep inside me.”
Her words were like a prod to the Reaper’s libido and he put his hands to her hips
to show her the rhythm, the movement that would bring them both to climax. As she
ground her sex on him, lifted and lowered her sweet sheath upon his staff, he put his
palms over her breasts and squeezed, running his thumbs over the material to turn her
nipples to hard little pebbles beneath the cloth.
Lea let her head fall back, her long hair tickling his thighs as she rode him. The
pulsing that began deep within her was an itch she quickly realized could be scratched
on his stony rod.
Watching his lady through half-closed eyes, Bevyn was in absolute heaven. Her
tight muscles were squeezing him. His climax was rapidly approaching. He arched his
hips to meet her downward push and felt the ripples begin in her velvety warmth.
“That’s it, wench,” he said, guiding her, helping her to push harder upon him.
“Come for me, baby. Come for your man.”
54
Her Reaper’s Arms
Lea ground against him brutally, rotating her hips as he showed her and the
bursting of the sweetest pleasure shot through her on long, tightening waves that made
gooseflesh pop up on her arms and legs.
Pulsing into her in a thick stream, Bevyn held himself still until the last jerk of his
cock told him there was no more cum to release. They were both breathing heavily and
when she stretched out atop him, he thought he could die right then and still be the
happiest man on the face
