Glory had no time to think before Riley was upon her and holding her, kissing her. His arms slipped around her back, pulled her closer against his muscled length. Faint with wanting him, and not quite understanding the hot, pricking sensations happening inside her, things Riley caused with his nearness, with his kiss, she surrendered to his touch. And realized she could do that because she trusted Riley. Trusted him not to hurt her, not to betray her. Not to take more than she could give.
Riley broke his kiss. He pulled back enough to stare down into her face. “I’ve waited years for you, Glory. For this moment. I just hate that it’s out here, out in the open like this. I wanted it to be special, to be something more…” His voice trailed off. He smiled, his expression baring his heart.
Glory reached up and stroked her hand down his tanned and smooth cheek. “It is special, Riley. It’s wonderful. Because it’s you.”
She watched the effect her words had on this strong, strong man. Clutching at her hand, holding it to his mouth, kissing her palm, he closed his eyes, his mouth quirked into a tender line. His expression suggested he savored her words, as if each one were a treasure he could never recapture after this moment. As if this were his only chance to enjoy them.
Warmed to her core, despite the day’s coolness, despite not having on Papa’s coat anymore, Glory tugged her hand from his and slipped her arms under his duster and around his back. She then lay her head against Riley’s chest. Even through the thickness of his flannel shirt and underlying combination suit, she could hear, could feel his heart beating right under her cheek. “Oh, Riley, I do love you.”
Riley stirred, tensed. “Oh, damn, Glory,” was all he said, his words no more than a husky whisper sighing off his lips. His arms encircling her more fully, he said, “I’ve got to feel you in my arms.”
“I want that, too,” Glory heard herself saying. “I want you.”
Riley smoothed his hands around to her arms and held her away from him, looked down into her eyes. “Nothing and no one will ever stand between us again. I swear, it to you right here, right now.” With those words, and with suddenly feverish motions, Riley kissed her again with all the fierce longing for her that Glory knew he’d harbored for years.
Almost overcome with his intense passion, with his hands roving hard and fast over her body, as if her clothes were no barrier to his touch, she felt a faintness settle in her knees. And a hot heaviness in the vee of her legs. A throbbing pulse burned in her secret woman’s place. The hurting ache of it, she somehow knew, could only be quenched by Riley’s touch, his kiss. And so she put everything she felt into returning his kiss, into dueling with his tongue, into opening herself fully to his onslaught.
Riley broke away, breathing rapidly, staring down at her with an intensity she found both frightening and exciting. That she’d have this effect on such a man as Riley, one so normally cool and distant, so quiet and remote, was astounding to her. And very heady. Feeling suddenly wanton, wanting to make him feel more, Glory stunned even herself by beginning to unbutton her blouse. All without a word. And without breaking eye contact with him.
Riley watched her a moment, sucked in a breath, let it out in a shuddering ripple, and stood helplessly before her. Glory smiled … an ancient smile of female knowledge, of female conquering. “Make our bed, Riley.”
Blinking—and not from anything to do with the warm beating down of the sun in his eyes, Glory suspected—Riley became a galvanized blur of activity. He all but ripped off his duster and spread it at her feet. Papa’s coat was added to the nest. Riley then feathered it with his heavy flannel shirt. With hurried, fumbling motions of her own, Glory shed her blouse and fluttered it atop his shirt. Riley muttered a heated something as he stared at her. Then he frowned. “Are you cold, sweetheart?”
Glory nodded, hugged herself. Riley stepped over their makeshift bed and took her in his arms. “Let me warm you.” And then he proceeded to do just that with the kisses he trailed over her jaw, her neck, across her shoulder, and down her chemise-covered chest. A shuddering gasp from Glory brought his head up, his dark eyes staring into hers. “Come with me.” He pulled her down with him onto the bed he’d prepared for her atop a hill on Lawless land.
Lying in his arms, feeling his weight pressing into her, Glory closed her eyes, surrendering her will. Whatever he wanted from her was his. But she had no words to say what abided in her heart. She could only show him the way there. Marveling that she was unafraid, she flattened her palm against his chest, against the fabric of his combination suit, and smoothed her fingers under the unbuttoned neck, feeling for herself the warm, hard muscle there. The pulsing between her legs ticked off an aching beat, tore words from the depths of her soul. “I want you, Riley.”
And those words were all it took. Riley tipped his forehead to hers and took several breaths. “All right, baby. All right.”
In only moments, there were no clothes between them. No stitched fabric to hide behind. In only moments, they were as God made them. With His world as their witness, with the wind through the waving tallgrass as their music, with the sun shining its warm approval, with their horses grazing afar, Glory and Riley learned each other’s bodies. And deepened their love.
Naked, long of frame, hard of muscle, and warm of skin, Riley covered Glory with his protective length, sheltering her in his embrace. His hands—so square and fine and capable—slipped over her skin, gliding like a soft wind over the peaks and valleys of her woman’s body. Under his touch, she ached and arched, tossed and rippled. Riley bent his head to capture a nipple, even as his hand cupped the fullness of her virgin breast.
A cry rang from Glory when Riley’s lips closed over her, peaked flesh. She clutched spasmodically at his arms. Riley raised his head, looked with hooded eyes into her face. Glory felt the blaze of pain that was desire, that was lusting at its most beautiful. She needed this man, like she needed air, like she needed food. Like she needed love. Riley smiled down at her, seemed to sense these new and strong emotions tearing at her.
All while looking into her eyes, he smoothed his hand down her belly and cupped her femininity. Glory sucked in a breath and clutched at his wrist. Riley bent to whisper into her ear, kiss her neck, her cheek, her eyes … and moved his fingers. Stroking the slick and velvet folds of her desire, Riley softened her resistance, kept whispering to her, telling her of her beauty, of his love. Until Glory opened to him.
But it was Riley who made the noise at the back of his throat. Who reared his head back, his face reflecting the rapt pleasure he felt at pleasing her. Glory wanted to please him in return. But she didn’t know how. As if he’d read her mind, Riley looked down at her under him and said, “Touch me.”
A frown of confusion mirrored her lack of experience, of know-how. Riley smoothed his hand—that same hand which only a moment ago had her centered in its palm—smoothed his hand up her belly, captured her hand and placed it against his hard length. Glory gasped, her eyes widened. Riley smiled a deep and tender smile down at her. “It won’t bite.”
Glory lowered her gaze to his throat, caught her bottom lip between her teeth. A different heat, different from the hot, aching one of desire, suffused her cheeks. She absorbed the feel of him in her hand, allowed herself a moment to get used to this new sensation. And found she could make him gasp … if she only moved her feather-soft touch over him, up and down him. She chanced a look up into his face. Oh, he liked this.
After only a moment of stroking, Riley pulled her hand away, kissed her fingers, and pulled her arms up over her head as he lay himself across her and settled his hips in the saddle of hers. “Bend your knees, sweetheart. Wrap your legs around me.”
Without thought or hesitation, Glory did just that. She marveled at the feel of him against her. He was so finely formed, so hard and handsome, so tender with her. He pressed himself against her, released her hands, and smoothed her hair back from her face as he captured her mouth with his, sipping hungrily of her. Glory’s belly contracted with need, with a burning ache that nearly had her mad with desire. Breaking their kiss, she tossed her head impatiently, dug her nails into Riley’s shoulders. “Please,” she cried out, not even knowing for what she asked.
Riley kissed the tip of her nose and chuckled. “It might hurt.”
Glory opened her eyes and poked out her bottom lip. “It hurts now. Do something.”
Riley laughed out loud. Glory felt his belly laugh against her own abdomen. His muscles contracted and rippled over her softness. “Yes, ma’am. I aim to please.”
With that, he began sliding himself inside her. Glory gasped, tensing. Riley stopped, looked deep into her eyes. “This is what you want, honey. This is what you’re asking me to do. It’ll make the hurt go away.”
Glory blinked, felt dangerously close to tears, even closer to telling him no. She shook her head. Riley again soothed and aroused her with his whispered words in her ear, with his hot and trailing kisses down her neck. The tingling sensations he produced in her … so much lower down caused her to buck against him and tighten her muscles. Riley groaned, tensed … and slid in a little more. “You’re so tight, baby. So wet inside.”
Glory sucked in a breath—and Riley buried himself inside her. Glory went rigid, her eyes wide open, staring at the clear blue sky above them. It hurt. It hurt a lot. But she refused to whimper, to cry out. Instead, she bit down on her lip, felt certain she tasted her own blood. Riley looked down at her, seemed to understand. “It will never hurt again, sweetheart. Only good things now. You’ll feel only the good things. I swear it.”
Bravely, tearfully, Glory nodded, willed her chin to stop quivering. Riley placed a tender kiss there, rubbed his thumb over the dimpling flesh. “Don’t cry. Just love me.”
Glory wrapped her arms around his neck, mimicking her legs around his hips. “I do, Riley. Show me how.”
And then Riley showed her. He rocked his hips against hers, using long, slow strokes that seemed to have a clutching end, a spur of hot, hot intensity at the end of each one, before retreating … only to do it again. After only a moment of this, Glory could take no more. She answered him in kind, moving under him, arching into him, until he made a guttural sound and picked up the pace to an excruciatingly agonizing one that wound Glory tighter and tighter, until she felt certain she would burst with wanting him.
And then, she broke, flowering into a shudder of ripples that paralyzed her in position, that threw her head back, and brought forth a sound from her that she’d never made before, a sound driven from her soul to echo in the cool November air all about them. Riley drove relentlessly into her, only increasing her pleasure, only killing her more and more … until he too went rigid over her. Until he too cried out and froze, poised above her. For an eternity.
Slowly, the shuddering ripples between them subsided. Brought them back to earth. Finally, Riley released himself from his position and collapsed atop her. Glory welcomed his sheltering weight, reveled in the feel of his warm, slick body atop hers. Knew then that she was on this Earth to love this man. She loosened her grip on his neck and his hips, felt limp with pleasure, fulfilled with his loving. “I never … knew, Riley. Never.”
He dragged himself up on an elbow and grinned down at her. Glory’s heart tripped over itself at the picture of male satiation he made. His face a heightened color, his teeth so white in his grin, a lock of black hair trailing over his forehead, his dark eyes dancing. “I know,” he said.
Suddenly overwhelmed with the enormity of what she—they—had just done, with what had passed between them, the terrible intimacy, Glory turned her face away from his.
But Riley would have none of that. He gently tugged on her chin until she was forced to look up into his face. “Hey, you, I love you. What we did is good and right. Don’t you go being ashamed.”
“I’m not. I just—We’re not—Oh, Riley, I’m getting cold.”
The look he gave her told her plainly enough that he knew there was more to her feelings than what she’d admit. But he didn’t press her. “All right.”
With that, he slipped out of her and then off her. The sudden rush of cold air between their bodies brought home to Glory, more than anything else, the finality of their act. She was no longer an innocent. She’d just been initiated into womanhood. There was no going back. Only forward.
Riley stood up, perfectly at ease with his nudity. Glory’s breath caught in her throat, her cheeks burned. He was … such a man. A glorious man, from his broad shoulders and tapering waist, to his muscled hips and down his long legs. And he was hers. A sudden stab of ownership, of possessiveness, entered Glory’s heart. Riley Thorne was hers.
Just then, he leaned over her, held a hand out to her. Glory took it without hesitation, allowing him to bring her to her feet. He pulled her into his arms, holding her as close to his warmth as he could. Glory held him full-length to her, felt fulfilled by how perfectly they fit together in each other’s arms. She closed her eyes. If only they could stay like this forever. But in only moments, the coldness of the afternoon skies forced her away from the comfort of Riley’s arms. He looked down at her. “We better get dressed. You’re a long way from home yet.”
Feeling strangely out of place, out of time, Glory nodded and stepped away. Turning, flinching in surprise at the soreness in her muscles, she sought her underthings. Spying them tangled at the foot of their bed of clothing, Glory squatted down to retrieve them. And gave a startled gasp at what she saw smeared on her thigh. “Riley, there’s blood. I think we did something wrong.”
Just then skinning into his combination suit, Riley stopped and stared at her. A slow grin spread over his face. “No, darling, we did everything right. There’s always a little blood the first time.”
“There is?” Then, Glory tilted her head questioningly at him. “How come you know so much about … these things? Who—? I mean, where did you—?”
Riley cleared his throat, looked everywhere but at her, and hurriedly stretched into his underdrawers, buttoning the one-piece suit up as he went. “Let’s just say I misspent my trips up into the Kansas cattle towns—and leave it at that, shall we?”
Glory jerked her head down, stared at her coarse brown skirt and white blouse atop Riley’s saddle coat, blinking through the white-hot tears of absolute embarrassment that reminded her she was squatting there as naked as the day she was born. Riley’s done this with other women. That knowledge hurt to the bone, made her angry. Quickly she gathered up her clothes, donning her chemise and blouse and skirt with more ferocity than was called for.
Riley didn’t say anything else. And it was just as well, she decided. Only when she was fully dressed, down to her stockings, lace-up boots, and the sheepskin coat, did she look over at him. He was dressed too, and reaching for his duster. That same streak of possessiveness fisted Glory’s hands. “I don’t want you doing that ever again.”
Riley froze, but then straightened up slowly, shooting her a look of wariness. His knuckles, clutched around his coat, were white. “Do what?”
“This.” Glory pointed to the ground where they’d just lain together. “With any other woman but me. Ever. Promise me.”
Riley’s mouth worked—Glory suspected around a grin. And she knew he’d better not. Lucky for him, he didn’t. Getting appropriately sober, he nodded. “I promise. I’ll only make love with you.”
Make love. Glory liked the sound of that, but she wasn’t through with him. “For the rest of your life.”
Riley darned near lost his battle with that grin. “For the rest of my life. Or how about just yours, in case you die before me?”
Glory stiffened. Then with a shriek, she launched herself at him. But he caught her handily under her arms and spun her around and around. This time, Glory’s shriek was one of dizzy laughter. Finally Riley lowered her to her feet and held her against him. With her cheek pressed against his shirt’s button, with her arms around his broad back, and warmed by his love, Glory felt all things were possible. Even a Lawless loving a Thorne.
* * *
Riley watched Glory ride away from him. Well, he’d lost that argument. Here he stood while she rode for home. He still felt the need to accompany her as far as shouting distance of the Lawless main house, just so he could know she was safe. But no, she’d shown him her pocket pistol and said she’d be fine—after all, she was on Lawless land. The pointed look she’d given him with those words made her position clear. So here he stood, alone with his horse and his guilt.
Guilt was a terrible thing. Weighed a man down. Again, he saw her as she’d looked only moments ago. Her sobering expression as she sat mounted on Daisy and looking down at him. The consequences were beginning to set in, he could tell. Second thoughts. Maybe even regret. Doubt, probably.
Riley slumped, shaking his head. Why in the hell had he allowed their lovemaking to happen? Before this afternoon, before he’d ever tasted her sweetness, he might have been able to keep his distance, to live his life without her. In the long run, that’s what she wanted. She hated that she loved him. She’d as much as said it—today and every other day.
But now? Well, for one thing, he wanted to kick his own butt for thinking with the wrong head. But beyond that, now that he’d known her, had claimed her as his own, his life was going to be pure hell. Because he’d never let her go. Riley quirked a grin. He couldn’t let her go—he’d promised not to make love to any other woman except her ever again. And he wasn’t about to give up lovemaking.
A sober voice in his head reminded him that there was nothing funny about this situation. Riley’s grin faded with his next thought. As much as he loved Glory, as soul-satisfying as the experience had been, why had he made love to her? Afraid of the real answer, afraid he’d hear that voice saying it was for all the wrong reasons, that it only made things worse—which he already knew, even if Glory, in her innocence—didn’t, Riley turned his back on his conscience and sought out Pride. May as well get home myself. I can’t set her world to rights, but I can deal with my own kin.
Feeling the tug of two worlds, of two loyalties, and thinking if he was smart, he’d ride away from them both, Riley spied his horse grazing in the shallow ditch, the same one where Glory had tossed his father’s sign. Shaking his head, Riley whistled, caught the gray gelding’s attention. Pride raised his head, ears pricked forward, and stared. Riley put his hands to his waist and called out, “Just come here. I don’t need any looks from you.”
Pride bared his big teeth and neighed his opinion of that, even as he plodded toward Riley, who felt compelled to mutter, “Yeah, I know. What else can I do to you—I’ve already gelded you. And the more Glory thinks about what just happened here, the more likely I am to join you.”
* * *
Later that afternoon, with her home in sight, Glory reined in Daisy atop the very hill from which she’d last seen Jacey. Sitting there, aching from the unaccustomed activity with Riley and then this bruising ride home, she stared down on the Lawless stronghold. So, this is what Jacey saw right before she rode away. Glory swept her gaze across the bustling expanse of her family’s home. Men going in and out of the barn, some leading horses, some toting their saddles. A stray kitten and a strutting rooster roamed the dirt-packed yard.
Fearing her heart would burst with the rush of love and with the compelling sense of ownership for all that she saw, Glory took a deep breath in and exhaled, feeling gripped suddenly by the fear that she was losing it all. The big, two-storied main house, the wagon yard, the barns, the grazing lands, the cattle. The family cemetery out back.
It seemed to her, sitting there astride Daisy, that time rushed forward, leaving her facedown in its path. As if all this land, these people she loved, were beyond her grasp. How could she ever keep it all together? Surely, loving Riley Thorne was a betrayal of all that Mama and Papa had built here, all that they stood for. No one need tell her there would be consequences.
Raising a hand to cover her mouth, Glory closed her eyes, squeezing them shut against the images of herself moving against Riley, against the images of the land spread out now below her, against the images of her sisters’ faces as they’d made their blood pact to avenge their parents’ murders. Feeling suddenly ill, she opened her eyes and moved her hand to her stomach as she took another deep breath to calm herself.
She was feeling these things today, she tried to convince herself, because of making love with Riley. Making love. What gave her the right to be out making love—with Riley Thorne, no less? Well, it was too late for that. She was changed now. Forever. A woman like she’d never been before. And of course she shouldn’t be surprised that such a life-changing event would make a mishmash of her thoughts and her tummy.
It was that, and nothing else. But she didn’t believe it, even as she thought it. Even as she urged Daisy down the hill’s slope, even as she saw the men posted at the gate come to attention when they spotted her. Even as she felt the tears spilling over her lashes and running down her cheeks. She’d betrayed her family. And her inheritance.
Glory just didn’t see how anything worse, in the whole rest of her life, could ever happen to her. Nothing she could ever do or learn or experience could be worse than this sense of betrayal of her family. She loved a Thorne—Papa’s worst enemy. Glory hung her head. She didn’t deserve to bear the name of Lawless.