Savage Impulses Read online

  “Rest easy,” he said.

  Marigold wondered if she could hear some kind of remorse for his cruel words earlier in his voice.

  “We'll go back to Langtry in the morning. If you really do want some kind of honest work, well, maybe I know a man who needs a floor scrubbed or a lady who needs a maid. You can't be carrying on with the men when you do that, though. They like their maids to be good, even if they do show up a little soiled.”

  “I'm not soiled at all,” she said softly.

  He only shook his head and took the candle he’d brought with him to light his way to his own room.

  Marigold lay down, but she didn't undress. After what must have been hours, she decided that he must have fallen asleep.

  She realized that if she was going to be saved, she would have to do it herself, and she refused to trust any man with it. She took a few deep breaths and quietly made her way to the door. One floorboard creaked under her foot, making her freeze with terror, but when there was no sound from the other room, she crept out the door.

  There was a shred of light to the east, but true dawn was still hours away. The cold night air hit her like a slap in the face, but she stifled her gasp and made her way around the porch to the tiny stable that was behind the house. Thankfully, the stable was a little warmer as she looked around and found a horse blanket that she could drape around her shoulders. It was far too long and heavy, but it was at least some protection from the cold as she tried to saddle the horse.

  The mare looked at her with what she thought were friendly eyes. For a moment, she felt so relieved to see a friendly face that she could have cried. Instead, she clumsily bridled the animal, thanking God for her friends who had worked with carriage horses in Bristol and had taught her something of what they knew. After a moment's struggle, she realized that there was no way that the saddle would be anything more than a hazard to her. When she tried to get it off the wall, it fell straight to the floor with a thud, and the contraption of straps and leather looked daunting. She wasn't sure that she could tighten it enough, and the idea of slipping off of a horse that was moving was terrifying.

  It took more time and more effort to get on top of the animal, but even then the horse was steady and allowed her to fumble and fall before she was mounted.

  Riding couldn't be so difficult, she thought. She clicked her tongue the way that she had heard Sloan do. The horse started walking. For a few minutes, she was delighted. She thought about making it to another town, a place where she could throw herself on the mercy of the locals who might give her a job or at least tell her how to get one in this strange new land.

  Her pleasant thoughts took an abrupt stop when she realized that instead of heading down the road, the horse was simply circling the property. Now that she could see that she was back at the house, with the horse circling back to its stable, she let out a short cry of frustration.

  “No, no, please, this isn't where I wanted you to go!” she whispered loudly, tugging ineffectually on the reins.

  The mare obediently turned, but she only seemed to want to repeat the circuit from before.

  It was as if the animal thought she was a child who wanted to go for an adventure. “No, not like this,” she hissed. In frustration, she pulled harder on the mare's reins.

  This seemed to irritate the animal, who tossed her head warningly.

  When that was all the reaction that Marigold got, she groaned with anger and pulled far harder.

  The mare's ears flicked back in anger.

  That was all the warning she got before the bit was seized in the animal's teeth. Then no amount of tugging could pull control back from the mare who suddenly took off like a shot into the pre-dawn light.

  Marigold screamed as the brush of the desert rushed past. She slumped down on the mare's back, clinging with her arms and her thighs for dear life.

  The madcap ride could only have lasted for a few moments, but it felt like an eternity when she could already feel her grip failing.

  All of a sudden a warbling whistle, high at the start and falling like a diving hawk, cut through the early morning air.

  The mare stopped in a heartbeat. Another whistle turned the mare around and had her cantering back as sedately as a draft horse.

  Before Marigold could even sit herself upright, she was in front of the little house again and in front of Jake Sloan, who looked furious.

  “What the hell did you think you were doing?” he snarled, pulling her off the horse.

  He caught her when her legs went to jelly underneath her, but she pulled away from him, stumbling hard. “Getting away from you!” she shouted. “Getting away from you and ... and finding my own way to where people don't think that I'm some kind of loose woman.”

  His dark eyes narrowed, and she realized that she had just tried to steal this man's horse, something that was considered a hanging offense in this part of the country.

  “You little fool,” he hissed. “Do you have any idea how easily you could have killed yourself? Or worse? There's a lot worse in this country than me.”

  She could have spat with rage. “I don't know if I believe that! You're a bastard and a savage and...”

  Something about what she said seemed to break the last ounce of control that Jake Sloan had in him, because suddenly Marigold was being dragged over to the low wood rail fence to the side of the house.

  “No!” she shrieked, terrified about what he intended to do. Her cries were stopped short when he threw her over the railing, her rear presented high in the air.

  “Shut up,” he snapped. “I'm going to give you the lesson you should have had the minute you ended up in this country!” In the space of a heartbeat, he had flipped her skirt up over her head, and then he was parting the fabric of her drawers.

  With no center seam, the flimsy fabric opened to give him what must have been a painfully clear view of her ass. She struggled against his hold, blushing crimson to think of herself so exposed.

  For a moment, he paused.

  She could only imagine that he was staring at her. She became aware of a deep yawning feeling in the pit of her stomach as well as something that made her press her legs together in sudden strange need, but then his hard hand made contact with the vulnerable flesh of her rear and that thought fled.

  The first blow was so hard that she would have tumbled right over the rail if he hadn't been holding her with a hand at the back of her neck. After a moment of stunned shock, she cried out at the fiery pain that spread over her ass. She had been strapped before as a child but that was nothing compared to what this man could do with his bare hand.

  The pain crested, but before it could fade, there was another slap. She could hear the echoes of her own cries through the countryside, and the fact that there was no one to hear made her sob.

  The slaps came hard and fast, working their way from the crack of her ass down almost to her knees. At first she kicked and struggled and swore, but that only seemed to make him angrier. He struck her harder and harder. Finally, she gave up entirely. She went as limp as a rug over the fence railing, only sobbing more loudly when he landed another blow.

  Marigold was only aware that he had stopped when she felt the cool breeze against her blazing hot skin. She realized dully that he was quiet behind her, and she wondered if he was as shocked as she was.

  “That was a dangerous fool stunt that you pulled,” he said finally. “You could have gotten yourself killed, you could have broken one of Tamu's legs.”

  She was silent as he helped her up. She moved stiffly. The brush of her garments against her rear made her flinch. He hadn't spanked her hard enough to make her limp, but she knew that she would only be sitting with care for the next few days.

  “Stupid horse,” she muttered as he helped her back to the house.

  Instead of making him angry, the comment only made Jake laugh.

  There was suddenly something more than a little wild about the way he pulled her around again. For a moment, she
thought he meant to drag her back to the fence for another session and tears welled up in her eyes. Instead, she realized that he was pulling her towards the horse.

  “She's a fine horse,” he whispered in her ear.

  His hot breath against the sensitive skin of her ear and neck made her gasp, sending tingles straight down.

  “Here, I'll show you.” He swung up on the horse and, in a moment, hauled her up with him.

  Marigold yelled when her rear connected with the hard saddle. Before she could collect herself, Jake had whistled again and the horse was off like a gunshot.

  Marigold clamped her mouth shut over a scream as the horse lunged into motion and the ground started speeding away beneath them. She had only ever ridden on the backs of placid ponies before this, and now she could tell that Tamu was in another class entirely.

  They raced across the prairie, and she got fleeting impressions of red cattle browsing placidly in the fields and of tall grass that swayed in the wind. In a heartbeat, she went from pain and fear to delight.

  At her laugh, Jake started laughing as well. After a little while, he pulled Tamu to a halt at a small pond that was almost hidden in the grass.

  When she turned to look at him, she realized that he was even more handsome when he was smiling.

  “Still think she's a stupid horse?” he asked, breathless from their ride.

  Marigold shook her head, their hard words from earlier forgotten, and the moment stretched between them. The early morning prairie was perfectly still. In that peaceful moment, the first that she had had in far too long, she could feel something in herself open up. She was aware of everything from the way his strong arms came around her to the way that her rear still stung from the spanking to the fact that his breath had abruptly caught behind her.

  Timidly, she pressed back against him, enjoying the feeling but a little frightened of what came next. For a moment, thoughts of men like Black and the drunken cowboys of Langtry threatened to overwhelm her, but then her body took in the warmth and reality of Jake behind her. Even the lush throbbing of her bottom made her sigh. It wasn't even a pain any more. It was just a sensation that told her that she wanted more.

  She eased back against him more fully, and now she could feel that he was far from unaffected by their ride and her closeness. She knew what happened between men and women. She had heard it described as a duty and even a horror, but thoughts of both now fell out of her head. She couldn't stop trembling as the fear and stress of the morning shed from her body, and she realized that all she could feel was want.

  Jake whispered a quiet command to his horse.

  Underneath them, Marigold could feel Tamu lock her legs. It would take more than a mountain to move the stubborn animal.

  Jake dropped the reins to place both hands tentatively around Marigold's waist.

  “You're playing a dangerous little game right now,” he warned her. “Maybe seeing as you're so unspoiled, you don't know that.”

  She ignored the biting tone in his voice. All she cared about right now was how good his lean body felt against her back. For the first time in what felt like ages, she felt safe, as if the storms of the Atlantic and a fearful journey west might have brought her at least to a safe harbor. She sighed as she shifted against him again.

  “I want...” Her voice was as soft as a sigh.

  Jake laughed hoarsely in her ear.

  She couldn't help but think there was something kind about his laugh as his hands grew more firm on her corseted waist. She had lost the horse blanket somewhere in their mad ride, and now she was only wearing the rags that Black had given her. Even through the canvas and whale bone, she could feel the warmth and the strength of his hands. When they came up to close over her half-bare breasts, she whimpered with achingly new desire.

  “I know what you want, little darling,” he whispered in her ear.

  The ticklish sensations deepened to pure pleasure when he nibbled her lobe gently, taking it between his teeth to pull. At the same time, one hand drifted up to stroke her neck with sweet care, making her sigh and moan for something she couldn't name. “Yes,” she murmured. “I want you, I do want you.”

  As if her soft words had opened something in him, his teeth grew sharper and his grip on her more tight.

  His actions should have frightened her, but instead, they only made her press back against him more.

  His fingers tapped lightly on her corset. “Undo this for me,” he whispered, a challenge in his voice.

  At first, Marigold was shocked by the idea of doing such a thing, of being so bare to the world, but abruptly, she needed to be done with rules and disapproving eyes. There was no one here but Jake, and he was the only person she cared to please.

  With trembling fingers, she unhooked the front of her corset, breathing a little easier when it was free. As she let it drop to the ground, his dark hands came up to cup her tender breasts. When she glanced down, the contrast between them was striking. As she watched, one of those hands left her breast and crept down her belly.

  After a moment of, he slipped his hand under the waistband of her skirt.

  “Jake...!”

  “Shhh, this is exactly what you want, darling,” he murmured in her ear. “I can tell...”

  She might have protested more, but when his fingers found the hair between her legs and the surprising wetness beneath, she realized he was right. She leaned back against him. The splay of her legs to either side of Tamu's flanks gave him access to the most sensitive part of her.

  Late at night, under the covers, Marigold had touched herself there before. She had touched shyly and nervously, understanding instinctively that what she did was not meant to be shared with anyone. Her fumbling was nothing compared to Jake's confident strokes.

  His insistent touch soon sent tremors down her legs, and she reached back and latched her hands onto his thighs, digging her nails in so deep that he grunted.

  “Little hellcat likes that, huh?” he growled in her ear. Far too soon, he pulled his hand away.

  “No,” she whimpered, tilting her head up to look at him pleadingly. “Please don't stop, that was... I was...”

  “Don't worry,” he said soothingly. “I have something that you're going to like so much better...” His strong hands caught her around the waist.

  She yelped as she was lifted free of the horse, her legs dangling for a moment before she was turned and resettled. God above, he's strong, she thought blindly before she realized that she was even closer to him than she had been before. Her legs were draped over his thighs, and she was being supported by his strong hands, one at her back, and one tucked under her still-aching rear.

  “Can you feel how much I want you?” he whispered intently, looking up into her eyes.

  She could. His cock was hard between them, separated from her hot slit merely by a layer of denim and her own thin silk skirt.

  “I can,” she moaned. “I can, and I want it, please...”

  He made a victorious noise that was nearly a growl, and he reached down to tear at his own jeans while lifting at her skirt.

  Completely lost to the sensations she was feeling, she reached down to help him, holding her skirt clear and stroking his hard body wherever she could reach it. She felt a moment of fear when she felt the smooth blunt head butting at her opening. Memories of brutal men and crying girls battered at her thoughts, but when Jake slid into her, so smooth and sleek, those visions were banished. He moved slow, and, when her eyes fluttered open, she could see the tension in his face and the concern as well.

  “Yes?” he asked softly.

  Placing both her hands on his broad shoulders, she nodded. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, please...”

  With barely restrained fury, he started to thrust up into her.

  There was no pain, there was only a searing heat that made her want more and more. She could hear her own voice echoing over the prairie, barely human anymore it was so filled with lust and longing.

  S
he could feel how wet she was and how sleekly he moved inside her. She was tight but there was no pain at all. There was only opening to him, fitting him perfectly. Her hands found their way to his loose thick hair. When she pulled on it, he reared back and kissed her fiercely at the base of the neck, licking and sucking until she thought she would faint from the sensation.

  She could feel a deep pressure building up between them, something so much greater than the frail pleasures she had gotten from her own fumbling hand, and it almost frightened her. She started to draw back, but he took a harder hold of her hips. His grasp pressed against her tender rear, making her push towards him again, and the pleasure that gave her was almost dizzying.

  “No,” he muttered. “Don't pull away. You want this. Let me give it to you.”

  With a soft sob, she collapsed against him.

  He thrust into her hard, his strokes swift and steady.

  She could feel the pressure building up again as she gave herself up to the sensations.

  With a muffled swear, he pressed his hand between them again to force his fingers against that sensitive spot that he had found previously.

  Between the thrust of his hard cock and his skilled fingers, she was rocking back and forth, torn between vicious sensations. She ware barely aware that she was in broad daylight, that she was still mounted on a horse or that the man she was riding was one she had only met yesterday.

  “Please!” she cried out, and then it was like an earthquake had taken hold of her body. She couldn't control how she shook or how she clung to him. All she could do was shake and quiver as her climax took her hard and fast. It was the most consuming feeling that she had ever experienced, and it went on and on.

  The tremors passed over her. Just when she was coming out of them, Jake's movements quickened and became more erratic as well.

  He thrust deep into her one last time, shouting hoarsely, and then he was still, his hands draped around her waist and his head pressed to her breast.

  Marigold found her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and she pressed her cheek to the top of his head. She loved the smell of him, she realized.