Free Outlaw Rose by Celeste Rupert Page B

around her middle and she pushed them back. His face appeared in front of her, his hand back on her breast. “Remember, Miss Bank Teller, this was your idea.” He gave the breast a squeeze that made her squirm. “I’m sure you have more skills to demonstrate. I know I do.” He disappeared from her vision and went back to battling her skirts. This time, she didn’t flip them back. He was right—this was all part of the plan.
    She’d nearly forgotten about the plan—this common thief was clouding her judgement. She needed to find what she had come for and get away from his distracting influence. Maybe after he’d come twice he’d be so spent she could even escape, find the camp and the gold on her own.
    Caught up in planning, she jumped when she felt his hands on the bare skin of her thighs. He’d disposed of her petticoat and firmly moved her knees apart with his rough, warm hands. She reared up as he slid one thick finger deep inside her without warning.
    “Ah,” he said, as he drew the finger slowly back out again, making her shudder. “All wet and ready for me.” He leaned over, pressing her back into the ground as he trailed his finger over her sensitive tissues, making her buck against him. “And I thought you were only doing this so I would spare your life.”
    She opened her mouth to reply, but instead let out a sharp cry as he began a lazy circle around her swollen sex and her hips rocked towards him of their own accord, trying to follow his hand as he pulled it away. She hardly had time to miss it before he grabbed her, dragging her towards him and up onto his lap. Her legs were spread wide by the width of his body, the sharp edge of the butt of his gun digging into her upper thigh just before he let go of her with one hand to guide himself into her in one long, solid thrust.
    She gasped as her sensitive inner tissues stretched. He paused once he was seated deep within her to adjust his grip, his fingers biting into her as he began to move. Rose flailed her arms, searching for something to grab onto, clawing handfuls of dried grass, the only thing within her grasp. She couldn’t touch him, couldn’t sit up with her head down, her hips up on his lap. She couldn’t even see him as he surged into her in the darkness, but she could hear him as he breathed in rhythm to his thrusts and she whimpered as the pressure built.
    He released his hold on her and leaned over her, his hands braced on the ground either side of her as he increased the tempo, shifting to rock into her at a deeper angle. She reached for him, grateful for something to hold on to as she planted her feet on the ground and lifted her hips to meet every pounding thrust. He dropped his head, sucked hard on a nipple and she arched up with a moan, tangling her hands in his hair. He switched to her other breast and she bucked beneath him as the tug of his mouth added to the rolling sensation of his fast, hard thrusts and pushed her over the edge. She heard a long, keening cry and realised it was coming from her and she clung to him, riding out the waves of her climax as he gave another deep thrust, stiffened, then let out a shout and collapsed on top of her.
    Her body gave a final twitch and she let her arms fall to her sides as she struggled to catch her breath. His body was a solid weight on top of her, his face buried between her breasts as he sucked in air and she could feel the puffs of breath on her wet breast. Her nipples were painfully hard.
    His voice was muffled when he spoke. “You’re something else, Miss Bank Teller,” he said. “I’m glad I didn’t shoot you.” He lifted his head and pushed himself up, giving the nipple a pinch that made her gasp before he pulled slowly out of her, her body clinging to him. She threw her head back as residual sensation coursed through her.
    “You’re a bit of a surprise yourself, Mr Bank Robber,” she said, mocking his name for her even as she caught her breath. “You sure you don’t