Harlot (10 page)

She knew what he’d meant to say. They could have married. Could have gone away and had their own little place where they could touch each other as much and as often as they wanted.

But she hadn’t believed in him. She’d been angry when he’d left, but she’d gotten over it quickly. She’d waited for him. She’d never planned for any other future except being his wife. Then the months had turned to years, and she’d gotten lost somehow. And his stepfather had happily led her deeper into the darkness.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “When you didn’t respond to my last letter, I just…”

“Just decided to do
this
?”

“No, I…it wasn’t like that. Someone…
approached
me. He offered to pay. For my first time.”

The side of his face tightened when he grimaced. “How much?”

Jessica swallowed. It was complicated. There was the house and the land, and… “More than I could have earned in years as a teacher or laundress or lady’s companion. I did it so I could have security.”

“And it was so easy, you decided to keep doing it?”

Easy. Easy to lie there and let a man hurt you. “No. No, it wasn’t easy.”

“Jesus, Jessica,” he whispered.

“It wasn’t easy,” she repeated, lying back down to pull the covers tight.

“I’m sorry,” he said so quietly that she wasn’t sure she’d heard it. She froze, holding her breath, wanting to ask if he’d really apologized to her, but she couldn’t. She knew that whisper was the only concession she’d get from him. He was sorry for what she’d done to herself or sorry he’d left in the first place. She couldn’t tell which. Thunder rolled over them again. She turned her face to the pillow.

His hand felt hot against her shoulder when he touched her. “Who was it?” he asked.

She didn’t want to talk about this anymore. There was nothing she could tell him. She shook her head.

“Who was it?” he repeated. “There are only two thousand people in this town, and I mean to find out which one it was.”

She kept quiet.

“Someone with money,” he growled.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said.

“Of course it matters. He took something from me.”

The air left her lungs as if she’d been hit in the gut. The rush of it made her dizzy, like the bed was turning beneath her. “He took something from
me
,” she rasped.

“No. You sold it.”

Yes. That was the truth. The ugly, nasty truth. But it still made her furious. She shifted her shoulder until his hand slid away.

“Did he hurt you?” The words were so gruff she knew he hadn’t wanted to ask.

“It doesn’t matter.” Yes, he’d hurt her. But none of that had hurt as much as hearing Caleb call her a whore and knowing he had the right to.

“It does matter,” he insisted. And just like that, her fury drained away. He hated her for being a whore, but he cared that she’d been hurt.

It was one of the reasons she’d fallen in love with him so many years before. He was big and gruff and serious, but he would still fold up leftovers in a napkin for the stray kittens that lived behind her house. He’d confessed once that he was terrible at breaking new horses because he felt sorry for them. They only wanted freedom.

He was practical and tough and stubborn, and he had a bigger heart than any fine gentleman her father had introduced her to. God, she loved him. Even after this.

“You can stay,” she whispered. “Until the storm passes.”

For a moment, she was afraid he’d laugh at her. Laugh at the idea of lying in bed with a whore. The moment stretched into awful silence. He didn’t answer. He didn’t move.

“If you want to,” she murmured, her mouth dry as sand, heart fluttering as she waited for him to reject her.

“Thank you,” he said, which wasn’t an answer, but then he lifted the covers. The bed shifted. He lay down behind her, and his body pressed into hers.

“Oh,” she sighed, shocked at the contact. She’d never felt that. Someone naked and hot against the whole of her back. His hand settled on her waist, the weight of it strange and comforting.

“I’ll leave as soon as it clears.” His breath warmed her neck.

“All right.”

Her muscles ached with tension as she tried to hold herself still against him. But she was so tired. She’d hardly slept at all the past two nights. She relaxed bit by bit, letting herself shape to him. She became aware of his body. His hard thighs behind hers. The feel of his body hair on her skin. The heat of his cock nestled against her bottom. Her heart began to calm.

In the silence, she had time to think, to wonder at what he’d made her feel earlier. He’d put his mouth on her. There. A place she tried not to touch now, because it was soiled. Ruined. But Caleb had touched it. He’d touched and kissed and licked, and the strangest feeling had filled her up and pushed at that part of her body.

She’d wanted it. More of it. She’d pressed higher and higher toward it, and finally something miraculous had happened. Something so sweet and bright and overwhelming that her cries of pleasure had turned into sobs. Just thinking about it began to melt her inside again.

Is that what men felt every time? Is that why they were so greedy and grasping, their faces turning from familiar and polite into an animal grimace of need? The sensation had made her groan and scream. Her throat was still hoarse with it.

Caleb sighed against her neck. His hand slipped along her hip, then back to her waist. “You’re still so beautiful, Jess.”

She might have wept at those words if she hadn’t been distracted by the slow drag of his hand as it shaped her hip. This time his hand slid all the way up her ribs to her breast.

“So perfect,” he whispered.

She felt his cock move against her, swelling as his thumb brushed her nipple. She was hardening again too, her nipple pressing into his fingers. His hand barely moved, and he held her as if she were a treasure.

Jessica decided to pretend.

She closed her eyes and let herself feel what she wanted.

“You’re so soft,” he breathed. “I can’t believe how soft you are.”

Yes. This was their bed, and she was his wife, and he still loved her. She wanted him to touch her everywhere, make her
feel
him everywhere. She wanted to give him everything over and over because they belonged together. Like this. Alone and naked with his cock growing hard against her.

He caught her nipple tight between his fingers, and she inhaled sharply.

“Do you like that, Jess?”

She was ashamed to say it. But there was no shame here in their bed, because she could pretend he loved her. She closed her eyes and refused to remember the truth. “Yes.”

“God,” he muttered, his fingers tightening again.

The pleasure of it shot through her. She arched into his hand, her hips pressing closer to his. He grunted and moved against her. His cock settled snugly between the cheeks of her bottom.

“I didn’t know you’d like it,” he murmured, his fingers plucking now, pinching her nipple until she squirmed and moaned. She hadn’t known either. Surely she wasn’t supposed to enjoy it. She’d been raised as a gentlewoman, but perhaps that wasn’t her true nature. Perhaps the reason she’d said yes to this—to all of this—was because that was how she was made. To be used, pleasured, violated.

“And this,” he said, his hand abandoning her nipple to slide down her naked belly. His fingers touched her curls and pushed on. “You like this.” He found her slit and stroked over the wetness there.

“Yes,” she gasped, her hips jerking against his touch.

He rocked into her, pumping his shaft between her cheeks with a moan.

“Yes.” She parted her legs a little so he could touch more of her. Yes, she liked it. She loved it. And if a woman could pay to feel this way, maybe she’d pay for it too. She’d pay him to do everything he wanted. To fuck and suck and kiss and stroke.

“I like it,” she panted as his fingers played with her, stroking up and down between her legs. “I like it.”

“Yes,” he rasped, working himself against her ass. “Yes. You love it.”

“I do.” She put her hand to his and pressed him lower, deeper, pushing his fingers inside her. “I love you,” she groaned.

His hand jumped, and she knew she shouldn’t have admitted it, but it didn’t matter. This wasn’t real. She was only pretending.

“Oh, God. Jess.” His fingers pushed too roughly, and she didn’t care. His other hand wound into her hair to pull her head back. His mouth opened on her neck as he fucked her with his hand, his hips still pumping against her ass. Her cheeks grew slick, and he moved more easily now, sliding so sweetly along her. She arched and writhed, wanting more, wanting that sensation again. She could feel it there, distant and shimmering, taunting her.

“You love it, damn you,” he growled into her wet neck. “You love it.”

“Yes!” She was his. His harlot or lover or wife. It didn’t matter.

“I want you from behind,” he said, his voice so deep she barely understood him.

She moaned, “Please. Please.” She knew that, at least. He wanted her on her knees like an animal. She’d done that. She’d do it for him.

He moved away from her, leaving her back cold. Jessica forced her weak muscles to work. She drew her knees up and rolled over, pushing up on her arms. She waited a moment, eyes still closed, but Caleb didn’t touch her. She heard his footsteps. Heard the boards of the floor creak. Just as she opened her eyes, the bed dipped again. She tensed, waiting for him to enter her. But he didn’t.

His hand touched her bottom. His fingers slipped between her cheeks, and something cool and slick touched the tight hole of her ass. She flinched.

“Caleb?” she whimpered, but he didn’t shy away. Instead, he pressed more firmly. She tensed in utter shock, but his fingertip slid in.

Jessica winced, expecting pain and ready to move away. This wasn’t what she’d meant. It wasn’t what she wanted.

But she knew it was done. More than one man had told her he’d like to do it. In fact, Mr. Steele the butcher, who would’ve tipped his hat to her during her previous life, had leaned close at the dry goods store and whispered about how he’d like to grease her ass and fuck her there.

Jessica stared wide-eyed at the headboard as his finger pushed slowly deeper. It didn’t hurt, but it felt strange. Wrong. She panted, her breath drying her throat. His finger moved in and out, sending an odd pleasure spiraling through her.

“Oh,” she breathed, her eyes fluttering closed. That strange pressure wound around inside her.

He pulled free of her, and now even that felt odd. The emptiness. As if she’d already settled into the violation. Apparently that was all it took with her now. A brush of degradation and she wanted more.

She caught the lavender scent of her skin cream. He touched her bottom again, and this time he penetrated her easily, though she still flinched away. But then he began to fuck her with his finger, a slow glide that made her relax, and then whimper. Then her arms grew weak and her thighs trembled. Sweet promise hovered at the edges of her soul again. This was wrong. So wrong. But that certainty only made the pleasure more intense.

“Caleb,” she sighed, her arms collapsing, hips pushing up. She pressed her forehead to the pillow and groaned. She wanted to tell him to stop, but she was too afraid he would. This shouldn’t feel so good. It shouldn’t. But even without him touching her pussy, the wet, hot center of her was throbbing now, tightening with each slide of his finger into her bottom. “God,” she groaned. “No.”

She moved her hand to her pussy, to the place that ached, pushing hard against it, wanting it to stop, but that made the ache worse. She shook her head against the pillow even as she tipped her hips up for more.

His finger slid free. “Please,” she begged. “Please, Caleb.” The pleasure was rolling closer, closer, like the thunder above them. She needed it to break over her.

She heard the sound of a wet stroke on his cock, then more cold slickness against her. This time he pressed harder. She felt her body opening for him. Stretching. “Caleb,” she gasped, knowing he was pushing inside her now, not his finger but his cock.

“Wait, wait,” she panted, thinking she’d tell him now. That she’d never done this, that she couldn’t, that he needed to stop. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t right. It was wrong, so wrong.

“Shhhhh,” he murmured. “Let me, Jess. You said you’d let me.” His hand caressed her hip. The pressure eased a bit, and she tried to catch her breath. It burned a little but it didn’t hurt exactly. She just felt…full. Full of his body and his need. Completely taken over.

Both of his hands spread over her hips now, stroking, soothing, but his cock was still tight inside her. “I want you every way, Jess,” he said. “Every way. I want to touch each part of you. Explore every inch of you before it’s all over.”

No. She shook her head. It wouldn’t be over. Tonight she could make this what she wanted. Caleb was her husband. He loved her. He always would. She’d give him everything. She wanted to be filled with him. To feel nothing but his cock impossibly tight in her. To know nothing but that. She needed to be violated so thoroughly that there was never anything but this. This night, this act, this man.

She pressed the heel of her hand between her legs, and the shock of pleasure made her groan low and deep like a beast. Caleb’s stroking fingers went still. Then they firmed on her hips, turning from a touch to a grip.

Jessica pressed harder, rolling her hand against the ache, moaning as sharp, sweet need shot through her.

Caleb pulled back and then sank a little deeper. “Yes,” he growled. “Give me this, Jess. Give me everything.”

“Yes,” she answered, the word a broken gasp.

“What you gave to other men.”

“
Yes
,” she lied.

He moved slowly within her, in and out, a careful slide. His cock pulled at her stretched, burning flesh, sending ripples of sensation that pressed from inside her while her hand pressed from the outside. The pleasure squeezed her.

She cried out, wanting to claw her way to that peak she’d reached before.

“Do you like this too, Jess?”

His fingers dug into her skin. His hips moved faster, still careful though, still smooth and easy.