Swept Off Her Feet (Swift Justice) Read online

  Maggie surprised me with a cake that she’d baked for us, and Wesley said a few words about how happy I’d made his brother. I felt myself tearing up before I even cut into my piece. It seemed that no sooner had I thanked my new sister-in-law, Clay was rising to take his leave. He reminded Maggie that he would be back on Sunday, tipped his hat, and was gone. No sooner had he left, Maggie began clearing off the plates. I helped her with the dishes, though my mind was far from washing right then.

  When it was time to say goodnight. Trent didn’t rush me. He stood by and watched me bid everyone goodnight without comment. Soon we were left alone, staring at each other. I wondered where Maggie was. She was sleeping in the parlor until we figured out what to do about living space for the two of us, but she was strangely absent just then.

  “Are you tired?” I asked finally, breaking the silence.

  Trent’s smile made my heart flutter wildly. “A bit. It’s been a long day.”

  “It has,” I agreed, the words sounding wooden to my own ears.

  “Shall we?”

  I nodded, because I couldn’t trust myself to speak. Taking my hand Trent led me past the parlor down the hall. He stopped in front of the door, and I tried to muster my courage to speak, but I couldn’t find the words for what I would tell him. He opened the door, and I followed behind him. When we were safely inside, he closed the door and looked at me.

  Without a word, he began to unbutton his shirt. I found my eyes drawn to his fingers, and I watched as he worked, feeling my mouth dry as his bare chest became visible to me. I was surprised at the dark, curly hair that covered his chest, as surprised as I was at my desire to reach out and touch it. I licked my lips and waited in tense anticipation. What was I supposed to do? Would he tell me?

  “Do you want to lie down?” His words were as considerate as ever, and it relieved me to hear him speak.

  “If you want me to.”

  “Do whatever makes you feel comfortable. If you’re not ready…”

  I swallowed over the lump that formed in my throat. Was I ready? I didn’t think so. But my ma always liked to say that we were rarely ready for what life held, and I knew that the longer I waited, the more my fear would grow. I took a tentative step toward him, trying to smile. “Thank you, Trent. You are so kind to me.”

  “Oh, Abby.” He took a long stride forward and was by my side in a moment. Sliding his arm under my legs, he gathered me into his arms. It made me giggle, but I immediately put my hand over my mouth, embarrassed. “There’s something to be said for living alone, isn’t there?”

  “It’s alright.”

  Trent laid me down on the bed and bent his head close to mine. His brown eyes looked like liquid pools as he stared at my face. He began to stroke my cheek with a finger. The feel of his skin on mine made me sigh with pleasure. Seeing my smile, he bent his head and kissed me. It was longer than the one we’d shared in the church, long, lingering and full of passion. I could feel the heat of his body radiating to my own; I could feel his need for me in a way that I couldn’t explain. Something about the way he looked at me made me feel whole, as though nothing bad had ever happened in my whole life. Trent turned back the clock until everything was right in the world.

  The love that I felt for him helped calm my nerves, and I sat forward and kissed his mouth, laughing at my own daring. Trent accepted my attention eagerly, and our lips met again and again. He slid a hand under my dress, pressing his fingers against my leg. I shivered at his touch while I silently urged him on. I didn’t know what was happening to me. With each passing moment, the closer our bodies became, I felt something happening inside of me. My heart was racing, my breath coming in short, excited gasps. My body was heating quickly from the inside out, or so it seemed to me. There was a delicious wetness forming between my thighs that I couldn’t explain.

  I was normally one to think everything over, but Trent’s slow, deliberate caresses made it impossible to focus on anything else, even the changes taking place inside me. I’d just gotten used to the feeling of his hand on my leg when he moved it upward, causing my breath to hitch.

  “Can we take this dress off?”

  Obediently I turned my back to him and bit my lip to stifle my contented sighs at the feeling of his fingers at my back. When he’d worked his way down to the last button, I stood and let the garment slide down to my feet. I stepped out of the puddle and turned to face him. With shaking fingers I removed my waist cincher and drawers until I was standing in front of him, shivering from the sudden chill. I covered my breasts with my hands, but Trent stood in front of me and pulled my arms down. Holding my hands, he took in the sight of my uncovered breasts. When he met my gaze again, his eyes were hungry.

  “Trent,” I whispered.

  “You’re scared,” he whispered back. “Don’t be. I’ll be right here, I promise.”

  There was so much to say—part of me wanted to protest further, to tell him that I’d changed my mind, that it would have to wait for another night. The other part wanted to reassure him of my devotion and love. The words stuck in my throat until I simply nodded.

  With tenderness in his touch, Trent laid me on the bed. I kept my eyes fixed on his face and his calm, reassuring smile. When he leaned down to lick my nipple, I closed my eyes and stifled a moan. I arched my back until both nipples were reaching for him and his caresses. He turned his attention to the other one and licked it and teased it with his tongue until they were both hardened peaks. He kissed my belly next, and trailed his kisses down my stomach until he reached the center of my thighs.

  I couldn’t help but wonder what he thought about the downy blond hair that covered my secret spot. I could feel it pulsing with heat, and the smell of my juices filled the air, signaling my eagerness. Trent inhaled deeply and smiled at me, and I saw that he knew it too.

  “Tell me if I’m hurting you, and I will stop.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “But first…” To my surprise, he sat up straight on the bed and reached for me. I met him halfway and was surprised when he took me in his arms and placed me over his lap. “I think you need a little love spanking.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at the teasing I heard in his voice. I’d never heard of such a thing! “What is that?”

  “You’re about to find out, Miz Abby.”

  “Miz Swift, if you please,” I said, daring to tease him back.

  “Now, does a good, sweet wife talk back to her husband while over his lap?”

  I smiled even though he couldn’t see me. I’d only met him, but I had a feeling that Trent would be more than just a husband—he seemed to be the perfect mate if ever there was one. I couldn’t wait to spend every day of the rest of my life getting to know him and loving him.

  When the first spank came down on my upturned bottom, I felt a warm tingle on my behind. More followed, each one delivered softly. I couldn’t help but laugh; I was so deliciously happy. Trent’s spanking felt pleasurable in a way I’d never imagined a spanking could feel.

  Almost as though he’d read my mind, Trent spoke up. “This isn’t a real spanking, of course. But I certainly don’t ever want to give you one of those.” A few more slow, stingy spanks accompanied his words.

  Even the thought of one day getting a real spanking from Trent couldn’t dampen the excitement that was coursing through my body. When Trent finished and laid me back down on the quilt, his eyes were sparkling. I was certain his excited expression mirrored my own. I felt him lower his body onto mine, and I moaned again, louder this time.

  “Tell me if I hurt you, and I’ll stop.”

  But he didn’t hurt me. He took his time, savoring every kiss and making sure that no piece of skin was left wanting for attention. By the time he entered me, I thought I would nearly burst with longing. Instead, my balloon of longing only grew larger with each and every thrust.

  “I love you,” he whispered, and it was all I needed to hear. I surrendered myself to the feelings washing over my body; ple
asure mingled with a bit of pain. It wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d feared and only seemed to amplify my desire. I loved the way our bodies moved together as though to music that only we two heard. I locked eyes with him and reveled in the way his eyes drank in the sight of my face.

  “Trent,” I gasped, feeling my body clench in a way I couldn’t understand. All I knew was that it felt delicious.

  “I’m right here, honey.” His thrusts were coming faster together, though he was still gentle.

  With a cry, I felt myself floating, my balloon released, rising higher and higher until I thought it might touch the heavens. I closed my eyes and saw stars. I whimpered as my body shook with the most exhilarating feeling I’d ever felt. Then, just as suddenly, I felt like I was spinning out of control. I could hear myself crying out and moaning, and I didn’t care one bit for what the others would think. There was only this moment, this man, and the way he made me feel.

  “Trent!”

  “Hang on to me, Abby.”

  I obeyed him and wrapped my arms around his neck with my eyes still closed. I could hear his breathing coming faster and faster with each thrust. I mewled like a kitten, feeling something release inside of me that I couldn’t name. With a shuddering cry, I felt myself falling. I’d been lifted high and had far to fall.

  When I opened my eyes, Trent was right there, staring lovingly into my face. I should have known he would be there to catch me.

  Chapter Four

  Libby

  “Maggie seems much improved since her whipping,” I remarked, studying my reflection in the looking glass that had been a wedding present from my own mother.

  “Hmm, might be, but I suggest you stop speculatin’ on other people’s business,” Wesley ordered, giving my bottom a firm pinch. I hadn’t finished dressing yet, and I felt it keenly. “Unless you’d like a whipping of your own.”

  I lowered my eyelashes demurely. “Yes, sir. No, thank you, sir.”

  “That’s my girl,” he murmured in my ear, making me shiver.

  The sky was still dark, as it always was when Wesley got up to start work. I wanted nothing more than to crawl back under the soft, warm quilt and close my eyes, but I knew that he would not take it well. Never mind that my newest sister, Abigail, wasn’t rising until well after dawn. When I’d mentioned it, my husband had told me, with that all-too familiar warning in his deep, masculine voice, to stop borrowing trouble and worry about myself.

  “It’s her honeymoon,” he’d insisted. “Let her be.”

  I had wanted to reply that I’d been shown no such favors, and certainly not a week after my marriage, but I swallowed it, where it would sour along with all the other things that went unsaid, slowly turning to bile at the bottom of my stomach.

  Tugging his hand, I considered that maybe I could get his thoughts to turn to more pleasant things. My husband followed my eyes, looked at the rumpled bed sheets we’d left only minutes ago, and smiled. I felt my heartbeat speed up. I held my breath, hardly daring to hope—after all, I knew very well that he had work to do. Yet, to my utter surprise and delight, Wesley picked me up around the waist and tossed me, giggling, on the bed, as though I weighed no more than a bag of flour.

  He pounced on the bed like a cat, his hair still sticking up wildly, his brown eyes large and warm with desire. I met his embrace enthusiastically, covering his face with eager little kisses. He hadn’t yet put on a shirt, and I let my hands rove over his bare chest, then to the muscles in his arms. I never felt safer than when I was in his arms. Who could intend me harm after taking just one look at my husband? He was muscular from hours of hard work—there wasn’t an ounce of fat anywhere on his body. No one would dare.

  Wesley kissed me hard—long, lingering kisses that took my breath away, and yet made me ache for more. I arched my back, and he ran strong, calloused fingers up my throat to cup my face, making me shiver at his touch.

  I love you. The words reverberated through my body, but I did not say them. I wasn’t one for sweet nothings, and my husband had yet to complain. He seemed just as content with the desire that filled my eyes whenever he looked at me. It was so rare that I got to have him like this, with the scent of soap from last night’s bath on his skin, his cheeks clean shaven. By the time he returned home for supper, his hair would be dark and dripping with sweat. His clothes would be stained with it, his body would glisten with it.

  Yes, there was something sexy about the smell of him—something came alive inside of me just looking at him, even when he had a thin layer of dirt under his fingernails. Being a shopkeeper’s daughter, I worried that I would never quite get used to the dust and filth that came with living on a farm. I’d get used to the smells and the lack of entertainment in time. I’d come to love him stinkin’ and tired after a hard day’s work, hadn’t I? But secretly, I thrilled at those times when we made love and his skin was still warm and clean beneath my fingers.

  I moaned as he nibbled on my flesh. He bit down harder, and I had to stifle my cries by putting my hand over my mouth. When he pulled back and gently licked the hurt, I had to bite down on my palm to contain my ecstasy. It might not be the kind of slap and tickle that most couples favored, but I couldn’t be troubled to care. What we had in the bedroom was magic. We scorched the sheets until I thought they’d come apart at the seams.

  This morning was no different. I grabbed for his trousers, fumbling for the button. “What a wanton woman I have! Tsk, Tsk,” he scolded, grinning from ear to ear.

  “You love it,” I whispered, my voice husky and confidant, daring him to deny it. He bent his head close to mine as my fingers finally slipped the button through its hold. I reached inside and drew him out, his long cock ready and waiting for me. It pulsed in my hand, eager to experience the pleasures I had in mind.

  “Get on with it, woman,” Wes growled, low in his throat.

  I laughed up at him, taunting him lovingly. He was so used to being in command and control that the rare moments I had him in mine made him a bit uneasy. He was not used to anyone else having the upper hand. I did not let him stew long, but instead moved my hand up and down the length of the shaft, meeting his dark eyes right before he closed them, leaning back and groaning in pleasure.

  Bending my head, my reddish-brown locks fell into my face. Pushing them aside, I put my mouth on his engorged member; I taunted him at first, just allowing the tip of my tongue to graze the tip, making him wait. When I licked a circle around the head and finally slid my lips down his shaft, I thought he would explode then and there.

  “Jesus,” he ground out, his body tensing at the sensation.

  I sat up quickly and tossed my hair with a bored air. “Should you get to the field before it’s light out?”

  Wesley yanked me down, hard, but it only made me laugh. “If you think for one minute you’re not finishing what you started, missy, I’ll take you over my knee right now. How’d you like to start off your day with a red bottom beneath your pretty dress?”

  Any other time those words would have made me still and think twice, but they were said in a voice that was filled with longing. “Yes, sir,” I replied, ever the dutiful wife. I took him in my mouth, pushing his manhood as close to the back of my throat as I could without gagging. I moved my lips up and down, spurred on by his audible pleasure.

  When he could take no more, Wesley leapt up and pushed me backwards. I tumbled onto the quilt, my breathing deepening as I waited. He wasted no time in yanking my nightgown up and peeling my drawers down. He brushed a hand over the silky curls that hid my sex, and chuckled at the moisture he found there. “Might be you’re right… is that light I see out the window?”

  “Don’t tease me,” I begged, my voice soft and sweet as it only was after a spanking or before we made love.

  “The fields are callin’ my name, darlin’, Horses to be tended to, sheep to shear…”

  “If you go, I’m going,” I vowed. “In my nightshift! What would decent folks say?”

  Wesley laughed
so hard that I shushed him in admonition. “Oh, yes, we have to keep your secret don’t we? If anyone knew that you went after me like a bitch in heat…”

  I grabbed his hot, hard rod in my hand and tried to push it into my dripping cunt. With another chuckle, Wesley obliged, plunging deep inside me. I felt something release within me the moment he did—a peace washed over me, stilling the wild beating of my heart for a moment. My pulse picked up again as he slid in and out, his body meeting mine in a kiss of the flesh. It was a dance we’d done together many times before, but each time it felt thrilling and brand new. My breath hitched with each thrust, and I closed my eyes as I felt my body humming underneath his own. My blood was singing with pleasure at the feel of him inside me. I curled my toes, and clamped my lips together to try to conceal my exhilarated cry when my body was taken over by the force of my orgasm.

  Wes put his hand to my lips, a gentle gesture that allowed me to groan into his palm without fear of being overheard. My hands were otherwise occupied, my fingernails scraping down his back. His thrusts became frenzied, my juices spilling onto my thighs as he hurried toward his climax. When it came, he shuddered with the strength of it before rolling off.

  A thought occurred to me as I listened to his heavy panting. “Wes?”

  “Hmm?”

  “What you said earlier… did you compare me to a dog?”

  * * *

  Libby

  Wes had left minutes later, cursing himself as the sun began to rise in the sky. When I finished dressing—taking my time, trying to recover from our arduous activities—I let myself out of the bedroom. I instantly smelled the strong scent of coffee and spotted the empty plates on the table. Looks like Wes had wolfed down his breakfast, I thought, sighing to myself. I felt a momentary pang at not being able to have breakfast with him. It was the price I paid for enjoying his attentions in the morning. Call me spoilt, but there were plenty of times that I wished I could have it both ways, that I could have a husband who didn’t have to rush in the morning, that could make love to me and eat breakfast with me too.