Saturday, February 12, 2022

Moon Feather: Part 26: Ask Pretty


Her arms instinctively went around his neck as he gripped the tender flesh of her ass and stood. Joey wrapped her damp legs around his waist and he carried her up the steps, effortlessly holding up her weight to reduce the strain on her injured arm. It wasn’t all that impressive if she thought about it. She weighed less than half of what he did, she was sure, but it was still hot.

In the two hours between the spanking and the bath, instead of sleeping, she had debated with herself on how to handle all of this. In the end, she decided to resign herself to her fate and throw her reservations to the wind. The fact of the matter was, she was here now with no hint of a way to return or any idea how long she would be here, so there was little reason not to just embrace the situation. If she woke up tomorrow back in her time, she would at least enjoy herself before then. And if she never went back at all, she needed to make the best of it. 

So, fuck it...or fuck him, as it were.

Everett set her down on the foot of the bed and took a seat on a chair near the dresser. His eyes never left her as he tugged off his boots and sat them aside. He stood then, advancing on her, his eyes full of heat as he pulled his neckerchief loose and tossed it to the floor. Stopping a few feet from her, he started unbuckling his belt, eliciting a small gasp from her. He regarded her curiously for a moment, his lips tilting upward as he threw the belt aside.

“Seein’ as you’re apparently no stranger to bedsport, I ain’t gotta be gentle,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt with a deliberate slowness. Payback for her soapy teasing, she was sure. 

Joey leaned back onto her good hand, tilting her head. “Gotta say, I was surprised you weren’t bothered by that fact.” 

He shrugged out of the shirt and reached over his head to pull his undershirt off. “I ain’t never bedded a virgin, and I certainly ain’t one myself, so I surely wouldn’t begrudge a lady a man’s appetites, or her own for that matter.” 

Once again, his bare chest was revealed to her, although the sight was even more enticing with the light of the late afternoon still spilling through the windows. He had the defined chest and flat stomach of a man used to physical work. It was different than the cut physiques of the gym rats of her time. She couldn’t count his abs beneath the delectably generous dusting of black hair on his belly, but she knew it would be hard to the touch. Everything about him, from his sinewy arms to his narrow hips spoke of an effortless strength that he came by through honest labor.

“Ya know,” he said, unbuttoning his fly, “I went through all the trouble of makin’ us a good supper, and now it’s just sittin’ downstairs gettin’ cold.”

Joey squinted at him suspiciously. There was a hint of warning in his tone that sent sparks of electricity down her spine. “Are you complaining?”

In one motion, he shucked both pants and drawers, leaving him as naked as her. She barely had time to take in the sight of his thick legs and unveiled arousal before his hand was on her throat pressing her into the bed. “Not a lick, but it would be remiss’a me to let such wastefulness go unaccounted for.” 

His lips crashed down on hers with a ferocity she wasn’t expecting. His hand tightened around her throat, not enough to choke, but enough to let her know in no uncertain terms that she was thoroughly outmatched. They battled back and forth for control of the kiss, nipping at each other’s lips. Joey caught his tongue between her teeth and sucked hard, pulling a moan from him. Just as she let him escape, she sharply nipped his tongue. He pulled away with a muttered curse, leaving them both panting. 

Everett chuckled darkly, eyes wild with excitement. “I guess we’ll add manners to our lesson about wastefulness.” He squeezed her throat. “Ask me ta punish ya, Jaybird. Make sure you ask real pretty too.” 

Her eyes widened. “I’m already bruising!” she protested. 

Again with that ominous chuckle that set her belly fluttering with a titillating sort of dread. “Oh, Jaybird, there’re other places ta punish.” He landed a sharp slap to her thigh, making her yelp. “Open up.”

Slowly, she let her thighs fall open, watching him with narrowed eyes. She should have known he’d be a kinky bastard. Not that she had any room to talk. The next slap took her by surprise. He brought his hand down hard on the lips of her sex, already slick with water and need. The impact sent twin bolts of pain and pleasure straight to her clit. She let out a groan, closing her legs reflexively. 

“No, ma’am,” Everett admonished, jamming a knee between hers and hooking his leg around one of hers and pulling it wide. He loomed over her, dark hair falling around his handsome face like a curtain, his left hand on her throat, right hand on her hip, ready to resume its assault. His fingers once again tightened around her throat. “Ask.”

Every ounce of rebellion in her soul filled her chest as she met his taunting gaze. She squared her jaw and tilted her chin defiantly. “Fine. Punish me.”

An evil grin split his face. “I thought I done told you to ask pretty.” He leaned down, so close that his beard tickled her ear. “Try again, Jaybird,” he growled softly. 

She shivered, her blood pulsing insistently between her legs. She knew what he wanted, but she’d be damned if she gave it to him. Again. 

“No,” she said, shaking her head slowly, a mutinous look in her eye.  

If anything, his smile widened, making her nervous. “Thought you might say that. Thing is, Jaybird, I’m a patient man. I’ve had thirty-five years to perfect that patience. You’re a hunter, so I know ya got your own patience, but, you should know, I can wait you out. I can always wait you out.” 

The hand on her hip moved to her core and he slipped a single finger between her lips to press a calloused fingertip to her clit. Joey sucked in a breath, the slight sensation enough to have her lifting her hips in search of more pressure. He expertly adjusted to every twist and jerk of her body to keep just that barest hint of pressure where she wanted it most. She growled in frustration, her hips falling back to the bed, panting with her efforts. She glared up at him. The smug laughter dancing in his eyes just pissed her off even more.

“Ask.” He ordered again, capturing her lips again in another kiss. It was much more sensual than the first, long and languid, almost leisurely, as if he really had all the time in the world to wait for her surrender. His finger began to move in slow circles over that pesky bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs, mimicking the motions of his tongue in her mouth. He swallowed her moan as pleasure shot through her. Her legs stiffened and she circled her hips to complement his strokes.

Suddenly, he pulled away from the kiss and the delightful dance of his fingers ceased, returning to their previous maddening stillness. She whimpered, the building pleasure low in her belly stopped dead in its tracks. He looked down at her, completely at ease, saying nothing. After several moments of tense silence, his eyebrows rose in an infuriating twist of inquiry and challenge. Joey wrinkled her nose.

“Son of a bitch! Fine! Please punish me...Daddy,” she gritted out.

He laughed. “We’ll have ta work on that, but good enough for now.”

“I swear to God, when I’m able to draw a bow again--”

He cut off her threat with another stinging slap to her center. “Don’t make threats ya ain’t gonna see through. You done told me you don’t like killin’, despite how good ya seem to be at it.” He kissed her again, landing another slap. She cried out, the sound lost to his lips again. It hurt, but at the same time, it felt fucking amazing. 

“If I can hit a dude in the throat backwards at full tilt,” she grunted as Everett mercilessly spanked her slick folds three more times, “I think I can manage to avoid kill shots.”

He shifted, placing his hands on either side of her head, his body cradled between her open thighs. Their hips were lined up perfectly, making him seem even larger as he held himself over her diminutive form.

“Let’s get somethin’ straight, Jaybird. You ain’t ta touch that bow for at least a month. If'n I catch you with it afore I say so, I will wear you out. I don’t care if you was just whooped for somethin’ else, neither.” He tilted his hips, the head of his cock poised at her entrance. “And if ya so much as try to shoot me with it, the hidin’ you got today will feel like a love pat compared ta what you’ll get for that.”

“If I try, I’ll succeed,” she said with a smirk. A stupid thing to say, perhaps, with him all but pinning her to the bed with threats of divine retribution on his lips, but she hadn’t missed a shot in years. It wasn’t arrogance if it was true, right? 

“Well, then, if’n you don’t wanna spend a month standin’ all day and sleepin’ on your belly, you best not try at all.”


If you would like a glossary of western slang used in this story, here is the reference I'm using: Western Slang, Lingo, and Phrases – A Writer’s Guide to the Old West     

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