Holding Lillian’s hand, Mic opened the cabin door and stepped inside. Wade, Noah, and Jeremiah sat around the table speaking in low voices and drinking. Noah had his usual enthusiasm, and by the scrunched up look on Jeremiah’s face as he took a gulp from his mug, it wasn’t alcohol or coffee. Wade had probably given him milk or water since—to the best of Mic’s knowledge—the only whiskey in the place was resting in the hip flask in the medical chest upstairs.
After Wade’s nearly destructive bout of drinking himself insensible after Jane’s death and the incident that had almost cost Wade and Noah their lives, Mic had refused to have any on the premises. Mic wasn’t going to lose Wade to drink or Noah to some dumb accident caused by Wade’s carelessness while drunk. Wade hadn’t protested much; the incident had shaken him worse than Noah.
Mic took a seat, tugging Lillian down onto his lap when she would have sat beside him, and wrapped his arms around her to hold her still. She didn’t protest. Instead, she sank into his arms.
Resting his chin on her shoulder, he looked toward Jeremiah. He was pretty sure he already knew what Jeremiah had to say and if Lloyd wasn’t involved, he would have told them to get lost until morning. He’d like some time with his wife that included lots of kissing and a bed. “Is it time?”
Jeremiah grinned at them, shaking his bear-like head. “Always to the point, Mic. Abby says Charles’ men entered Laramie about sunset yesterday. They’ll be sleeping off their excess today and heading out for the range tomorrow. And I want in.”
“Jere, this isn’t the time for revenge,” Wade said. “We’re going to get Lloyd and get away.”
Jeremiah glared at Wade. “Charles’ day will come, but I owe it to Jane to bring her son home safe.”
“Let him come, Wade.” Mic tightened his arms around Lillian, sudden fear in his heart. She’d want to go too and while he’d like to refuse her, they needed everyone they could get. Which at the moment included himself, a vengeful brother, a furious father, two green boys, his very smart but vulnerable wife, and a knife-wielding sister. Not much of an army against Charles and the few men that would remain behind. “We’ll leave tomorrow and head for Charles’ place.”
The men nodded, all knowing what they needed to do. It wasn’t like they hadn’t discussed it a dozen times before now. They’d just decided that it would be their last recourse.
Wade rose when it was obvious that there was nothing else to say. “Come on, Noah, Jeremiah, might as well get the supplies ready.”
Nobody could claim his brother was too daft. Noah looked ready to protest, but Wade gently pulled him from the cabin. Jeremiah was a little slower to move.
“What?” Mic asked, recognizing the look on Jeremiah’s face.
“Do you know who she is, Mic?”
Lillian stiffened in his arms and Mic drew her tighter against his chest, rubbing her arm. “Yes.”
Jeremiah nodded, downing the rest of his drink with a grimace, and stood. “Good to know.” He left the cabin, closing the door gently.
Lillian glanced at Mic, fear in her liquid green eyes. “Do you think he knows I’m Prudence?”
Mic wasn’t sure what his brother knew, not that it would matter who she was to Jeremiah. He gave her a reassuring smile, tugging on a lock of hair and curling it around his finger. “Would it matter?”
“It might. If he knows, then someone else knows, too, and that could mean it might get to Robert.”
He sighed, pulling the hatpins from her hair then removing the hat from her head and setting it on the table. “He was most likely referring to your lack of name during the wedding.” At least he hoped that was what Jeremiah was referring to, because the alternative meant his new wife wasn’t safe and he would do anything to make her safe. “You did, after all, call yourself Uzizitka Lewis.”
“Yes, that’s true. But I thought he’d ask my real name when I did that. I was only kidding.”
“Would you have given it to him?” He placed his focus on pulling the rest of the pins from her hair and pretending her answer was of no note, even if it was important. “Would you have told them who you really are, Prudence?”
She smiled and leaned closer to him, stroking the back of his neck with her fingers. “I never liked the name Prudence. I chose Lillian because I like it. ”
His body responded to her touch, tightening and hardening beneath her rear. He was almost glad for the padding of her petticoats that would keep her from feeling his desire. He’d have hated to scare her. From what his few friends had said about their wedding nights, women seemed particularly frightened of that part of a man.
“I like your names. All of them.” He drew the last pin from her hair, watching the fiery curtain cascade around her shoulders. He liked her hair down, even if it wasn’t considered modest in the white man’s world. Cupping the back of her head, he leaned in, nuzzling her neck. “If Jeremiah had asked again, what name would you have given him?”
“Mrs. Mic Lewis. Though I’m partial to Uzizitka. ”
She gasped when he nipped the skin of her throat lightly with his teeth. “Then you shall be Uzizitka. My wild rose. ”
He lifted her off his lap and set her on the table. Giggling, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, her soft lips touching his. Her tongue hesitantly licked the seam of his mouth, seeking entrance. He opened to her, nudging her knees apart, and settling between her thighs.
While there were far more clothes than he wished for either of them to be wearing right now, tearing them off like the mad man he felt at the moment wouldn’t do either of them any good. He had to take it slow and let her set the pace. His fingers tangled in her hair as their tongues mated.
Her fingers fiddled with his shirt, the buttons popping open one by one. Her hands slid up his chest, pushing the edges of the shirt down his arms, and off his hands. She dropped it on the floor. Her fingers skimmed back up his arms and traced over his shoulders, exploring the contours of his chest.
“You feel good,” she whispered, her breathing ragged, her cheeks flushed with pleasure.
She leaned forward, tasting his skin with little nips and licks. She was going to kill him and his resolve to take it slow was heading out the window. Her tongue flicked across his nipple and he groaned, grinding himself against her. She glanced up at him through her lashes, a slight smile curving her lips, and her tongue flicked out, circling his nipple.
“Minx,” he growled.
Shoving her voluminous skirts out of the way, he pushed them to her waist and revealed the silky bloomers beneath. The shadowed triangle of red hair between her legs was barely hidden by the delicate cloth. He cupped her, his finger caressing her secret place through the slit of her drawers, feeling the wet warmth that awaited him.
She jerked against his hand, her eyes wide and her mouth open on a gasp. “Mic,” she moaned in pleasure and wiggled against him.
He reluctantly moved up her body, his fingers flying across the buttons of her shirtwaist, a few sailing through the air in his rush to reveal her creamy flesh.
She reached for him and he pushed the jacket and shirt down her arms, successfully trapping her hands. “Mic?”
She pulled against the tangled cloth and he took her moment of distraction to tease her. Bending over her, his lips closed over the rosy nipple pressing against her chemise, sucking it into his mouth.
She let out a soft cry of delight. Both palms hit the table top, her back arching, pushing her breasts toward him. His hand dipped under the cloth, skimming over her ribs, cupping the other breast. Kneading the small globe, he brushed his finger over her nipple, and she groaned. He played for several more seconds, then switched, giving her other breast the same loving attention.
Her hips bucked against his stomach. Her fingers scrabbled to hold onto something, her hands still trapped in her clothes. She tossed her head back as he sucked harder on her nipple, lightly nipping it with his lips. “Mic,” she keened.
Grinning, he gripped her hips and jerked her toward him, grinding his fully erect cock against her. A flash of guilt struck him. He should be doing this properly, taking his time in the soft bed above their heads, not on the kitchen table where anyone could see them. His thoughts went no further when she moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist and rubbing her most secret place against him. He couldn’t wait to claim his wife.
Unbuttoning his pants, he positioned himself at her opening and buried himself inside her wet passage. She yelped, her eyes widening with surprise, and he stilled.
His body stiff with tension and need, he rested his forehead against hers and whispered, “Sorry, Uzizitka.”
After a moment, she rocked her hips, taking him slowly into her, as if testing the way he felt inside her. He groaned, forcing himself to remain still until she was ready. He kissed the tip of her nose, brushing his lips across her mouth, her chin, and her throat. He pulled out slightly and her legs tightened around him, drawing him deeper inside her with a contented sigh.
She stared up at him with a mischievous smile and desire-filled eyes. “I’m not done yet.”
Mic grabbed her face between his hands and kissed her thoroughly, his tongue sparing with hers, a fight neither of them would win. He rocked his hips, taking shallow strokes at first and deepening them as her noises of pleasure against his mouth increased.
Grasping her hips, he drew her to the edge of the table and withdrew until only the tip of his cock rested inside her. Her muscles contracted around him, seeking to pull him in. “Mic,” she whimpered. Her heels dug into his back, striving to draw him back to her. Her hands, finally free of her clothes, clutched his forearms.
He grinned down at her, thinking she had to be the most beautiful, loving woman he’d ever met and that he would do anything to please her. He would move heaven and earth to make her happy. Maybe he was a fool, but he loved and trusted her with everything that he was.
Sinking into her warm wetness, he claimed her, seeking release that could only be found in his woman. She responded, her back arching, taking all of him, marking him as her teeth sank into his shoulder. She shattered in his arms, her muscles clamping tightly around him, her keening howl filling the house. He plunged deep inside her and spilled his seed, branding her as his forever.
He rested against her, too spent to move and hoped to God no one came in. It would be very obvious as to what they had been doing with clothes strewn everywhere, his barely covered rear hanging out of his pants, and Lillian’s legs wrapped around his waist, the imprint of her boot heels in his skin. He started to chuckle, despite being very embarrassing, it would serve them right for entering.
Her hands roamed over his back in lazy circles. “What’s so funny?”
“Just thinking what this would look like to anyone who walked in.”
She gasped. Pushing on his shoulder, she tried to sit up.” I forgot all about them.”
The temptation to hold her down and tease her was strong. Reluctantly, he drew away from her, helping her off the table. “They know better.”
She struggled to gather her shirtwaist and hat and clutched them to her chest. “You think they know what we’re doing?”
He tucked himself into his pants. “Probably.” He lifted her jacket and his shirt from the floor before guiding her toward the loft. “I’m guessing they also headed out of here with Noah before we started.” He snatched two apples from the bowl on the table as he passed by.
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, at least they didn’t hear us. I didn’t think things would get so,” she cleared her throat, “loud.”
Wrapping his arms around her, he nuzzled and kissed her neck. “I liked your noises.”
She giggled. “I liked your noises too, but I don’t want anyone else to hear them.”
He chuckled and pushed her toward the stairs. “You’ll only need to fear it a little while longer. Most of them will leave after this is over.”
Her smile faltered a bit and she turned toward him. “Mic, do you think everything’s going to be alright with getting Lloyd back?”
“Of course. God wouldn’t allow a child to remain in Charles’ hands.” As confident as he sounded, he only hoped he was right. He couldn’t allow anyone to get hurt and they had to get Lloyd back. “Now get that sexy body up those stairs.”
Lowering her arms, the chemise fell just above her nipples, the light pink of her aureoles peeking through the lace. She smiled sweetly. “You really think I’m sexy?”
Mic stared, speechless, swallowing several times before he dropped everything, sweeping her into his arms and pressing her against the stairs. His lips slanted over hers, devouring her. Grabbing her thighs, he lifted her, grinding against her, needing to be inside her again.
She dropped the clothes in her arms and wrapped her legs around him, rubbing herself against him, giving him free access to her neck. His lips glided downward, closing over her nipple, sucking it into his mouth and rolling it. She gasped and bucked, her nails sinking into his back.
Reaching between them, he slipped his finger along her slit, teasing her, enjoying the wide-eyed gasp as his fingertip slid over a tiny, hard nub. “Mic.”
He rubbed it gently, pleased with the small noises of pleasure issuing from her mouth and her passionate, wild-eyed gaze. He’d have to remember this spot for later. It could provide such pleasure for them both.
She rocked her hips, pleasuring herself on his hand. “Don’t stop.”
Unbuttoning his pants with the other hand, he continued to stroke her and slipped his hard cock into her wet passage. “Come for me, Uzizitka.”
She moaned louder, her hips moving faster, her hold around him tightening. She slid up and down his cock, his finger rubbing the nub harder, watching the desire on her face blossom. Her muscles clutched around him and she stiffened. “Mic!” she screamed, bucking wildly against him.
Supporting her weight, he lifted her, pressing her against the wall, and driving into her. His cock pumping into her, her core clenching around him, her body shuddering a second time, her hands clawing into his back, sending him over the edge. “Uzizitka!”
He drove into her one last time, hard, spilling his seed into her. He stilled, resting his head against the wall beside her.
After a moment, Lillian kissed his ear then nibbled on his lobe. “Is that a yes?”
He chuckled. “That’s a hell yes, Mrs. Lewis.”
Not even bothering with the clothes or removing himself from her delectable body, Mic ascended to the loft with Lillian clinging tightly to him, shouting a protest.
Drawing out of her, he set her on her feet and knelt at her feet. He lifted her foot and unbuttoned her boot. After removing the first one, he took care of the second. He lifted her skirt and rolled the stockings down her legs, trailing kisses over her skin.
She shivered in pleasure. “I can’t recall a time I’ve felt this good,” she murmured.
He grinned up at her and rose to his feet, drawing her with him. He unbuckled her belt, tossing it aside. The skirt followed, leaving her in a loose, untied chemise and almost sheer drawers. His grin widened. He probably looked the fool right now with his pants undone, smiling like an idiot at his lovely bride and thinking of all the possibilities her state of undress provided him.
She smiled and kissed him. “You’re a good man, Mic. I’m glad I’m with you.”
“I’m glad you said yes.” He drew the chemise over her head, feasting on her prefect, rosy tipped breasts. He untied the string at her waist, pushing the drawers off the swell of her hips. “I’d hate to have to ambush you in a bramble patch.”
She chuckled. “I won’t make you ambush me there,” she promised. “Though I certainly didn’t mind being ambushed downstairs. That was fun. ”
“And less likely to draw attention from small critters looking for warmth.” He shucked off his pants and gathered her naked body against his, relishing the slide of her skin on his. “I...”
The words caught in his throat. Such simple words, so deceptively simple. He’d already spoken them once, but in the moment he needed them most, when he needed her to hear them from his lips, he couldn’t say them. He couldn’t tell her how he felt about her.
She rose to her tiptoes, her nipples rubbing against his chest, and kissed him, her lips gentle on his. “I love you, too, Mic.” She settled back against him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and snuggled into his arms.
He swallowed hard, resting his chin on her head and held her for several minutes, enjoying the feel of her naked body against his. She yawned, drawing an answering yawn from him. He gently guided her to the bed and helped her into it then cuddled up behind her, resting his arm over her waist. She sighed and hugged his arm against her chest, her breathing deepening with sleep.
Mic brushed his lips across her shoulder. “I love you, Prudence,” he whispered.