Goldilocks and the Three Behrs Page 2

  Victoria licked her lips just as Caroline lowered her mouth to the plump head of her husband’s cock. Samuel’s head dropped back and a harsh moan ripped from his throat. Caroline’s mouth was stretched wide, but she swallowed him whole until her chin grazed against the soft sac that hung between his legs.

  Victoria bit her lip to keep from crying out as her fingers moved faster over the nub between her folds. Spasms danced through her belly to the ends of her toes until she thought she might collapse from the pleasure.

  She leaned against the rocks she was hiding behind and tried to slow her breathing. The rocks were warm from the sun and felt good against her sensitized breasts. The inside of her legs were coated with her desire, and she continued to circle the nub lazily as she kept watching the couple.

  “Enough, Caroline,” Samuel said through clenched teeth. “You’ll make me spend too soon.”

  “Good,” Caroline purred and continued swirling her tongue around her husband’s cock.

  Samuel let out a harsh laugh and pushed away from her. “Greedy wench. That’s enough. I need to bury myself inside you.”

  He knelt down in the shallow water until he was sitting on the soft silt at the bottom of the creek and the water was lapping gently against his legs.

  “What—” Caroline started to ask, but Samuel pulled her down and turned her so she sat in his lap facing the boulders Victoria was hiding behind.

  Victoria couldn’t have asked for a more perfect view of the couple. She felt a quickening in her pussy once more at the sight of Caroline exposed so openly—her pussy open like the petals of a flower—and Victoria slipped a finger inside of her tight sheath, pushing it in and out and spreading her juices over her engorged clit.

  Caroline’s thighs were open and draped over Samuel’s knees, and Victoria was close enough to see the drops of desire clinging to her auburn curls. Samuel’s cock stood rigid, poised at her entrance as he lifted her by the hips and slowly began to stretch her wide with his penetration. Caroline moaned at the intrusion and her nails scored his thighs as he pushed further inside.

  Victoria was amazed that he was able to fit, but Caroline opened and stretched around him until she surrounded him like a glove.

  “Mmm, that’s the way,” Samuel purred. “Just relax and take all of me.”

  He brought his hands around so they cupped her breasts and played with her nipples, tweaking them between his fingers, as she squirmed on his cock.

  “Samuel,” she moaned. “Please.”

  “You’re in control, baby. All you’ve gotta do is move.”

  Victoria’s breath came faster as Caroline lifted her hips and slammed herself down hard on Samuel’s cock. Her fingers flicked her clit faster and faster until she no longer cared if the couple heard the tiny mewls of satisfaction that came from her throat.

  Caroline held onto Samuel’s knees for balance and rode him into oblivion, her head tossed back as she lost herself to the pleasure that took over her body. Samuel trailed a hand from her breast down to the moist curls and circled her clit with his thumb.

  Spots flashed in front of Victoria’s eyes as she felt the familiar tingles of release tightening her womb. A heated flush race across her breasts and neck, and she was suspended in a kind of timelessness just before her orgasm erupted. Her knees buckled and she went down into the water as the orgasm sucked the strength from her body. But she found she still couldn’t look away and found another space between the rocks to keep her eyes on the couple.

  She watched as Caroline stiffened and let out a scream, her pussy clenching like a vise around Samuel’s cock, and her feminine juices running freely down his shaft. Samuel gritted his teeth as he waited for her pleasure to end before he took her by the hips and slammed his cock into her in four short bursts of speed. She watched as his balls pulled tight against his body, and he pushed deep inside her one final time before groaning out his release, pumping his seed into her womb.

  Samuel kissed her on the back of the neck as his cock softened and slipped out of her sheath, and Victoria looked on with curiosity as a thick white substance dripped down Caroline’s thighs and into the water.

  Samuel and Caroline washed up quickly and dressed, heading back toward the wagon train before Victoria had even fully caught her breath. It seemed that Harold had been right after all. She had a lot more to learn about the marriage act.

  Chapter Two:

  The Blackstone Gang

  The sound of rifle fire echoed through the trees, scattering birds and other wildlife with a flurry of feathers and rustling underbrush. Victoria jumped and quickened her steps to get back to her wagon. The wagon master always fired his rifle just before they were about to depart to let everyone know it was time to go.

  But she slowed her steps just as she reached the trees closest to the wagons. More rifles fired, and they seemed to be coming from all directions. Men shouting obscenities and a woman’s scream filled the air. Victoria clamped a hand over her mouth to keep her own silence as she ducked behind the trunk of a large oak and watched chaos reign over the wagon train.

  She counted eight men on horseback, the horses all black as thunder and flecked with dirt and grass from a hard ride. Bandanas covered their faces and their rifles were trained on the people she’d been travelling with over the last two weeks.

  Bile rose in her throat as she saw the wagon master dead on the ground by her wagon, his body so bloody and destroyed that he was barely recognizable. They’d found the chest of gold Harold had given over for her safe travel, and they were loading it in their saddle bags. Most of the gang went from wagon to wagon, stealing whatever they thought might be useful and laughing as they terrorized their victims.

  Victoria felt a scream build in her throat and she was paralyzed with fear as she watched what the rest of the men were doing. Caroline was flat on the ground, her skirts thrown over her head so she was bared from the waist down, and one of the masked men pumped himself quickly in and out of her—the pale, bare flesh of his behind flexing with every thrust.

  Samuel was being held captive by two other bandits at gunpoint. His temple was swollen and blood dripped down his face. A gag was stuffed in his mouth and his hands were tied behind his back, and he watched with murder in his eyes as the man on top of Caroline stiffened with his release, jerking and twitching while he grunted inhuman sounds. The man rolled off of Caroline and hitched his pants up, grabbing his rifle off the ground, as the man holding Samuel hostage loosened his belt and went to take his turn.

  Victoria closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to watch, but then a voice called out and something about it made her feel compelled to obey his orders.

  “Listen up,” one of the masked men called out. “If you folks cooperate then maybe everyone will get to go home tonight. My boys and I have an appointment with some lovely ladies over in Oak Hollow tonight.”

  He pulled his bandana down so an evil smile full of stained and crooked teeth appeared like that of a jack-o-lantern from his beard. From the way he carried himself and watched the others with detached amusement, Victoria guessed he was the one in charge. He wore black from head to toe—even his shaggy hair and his eyes were blacker than midnight. There was nothing soft about the man. He radiated evil all the way to his soul, and Victoria somehow found the strength to scoot backward and put as much distance as she could between them, while still being able to see what he was doing.

  “Maybe you folks have heard of me,” he said. “My name’s Curtis Granderson, and all of these fine gentlemen riding with me are the Blackstone Gang.”

  Victoria gasped and then quickly covered her hand with her mouth. She’d read all about the Blackstone Gang in the papers. They were wanted men in twelve states, and Federal marshals had been leading a manhunt to capture them for more than a year. Victoria knew as well as everyone else who was trapped out there that the Blackstone Gang didn’t leave survivors. And there was no way she could save them without getting captured herself.

&nbs
p; “Now I’m gonna ask y’all real nice,” Curtis said. “Whose wagon is this?”

  He ran a gloved hand down the carefully carved wood of her wagon before opening the door and hauling out a piece of her luggage. He opened the suitcase and held it upside down, so her carefully folded clothing tumbled to the ground in a heap. He kicked the pieces around looking for valuables and muddying her fine dresses with his boots. He pocketed her mother’s pearl necklace and an emerald ring that had been her grandmothers, and he found another bad of gold coins that had been part of her marriage settlement.

  “This here lady’s got more baubles and gold than the bank in Grand Junction,” he said, shaking his head. “Well, looky here, boys.” He spit out a stream of tobacco before picking up a sheer chemise that had been part of her trousseau. “Ain’t this purty.”

  Curtis held it between two grimy fingers and looked around at the men he held prisoner.

  “Now I asked y’all a question,” he said softly, pulling a pistol from his belt and cocking it. “Whose wagon is this? And if I don’t get an answer I like, I’m gonna start pulling the trigger.”

  “I…it belongs to Miss Victoria,” a man answered in a sniveling voice.

  He’d been the last passenger to join their group, and Victoria didn’t even know his name. But he sure knew who she was. The bastard.

  Curtis spit again before a smile spread across his face. “I take it that’s not Miss Victoria,” he asked, nodding toward Caroline with a smirk as another of his men turned her so she was on her knees and her face pressed into the dirt. Victoria looked away as the man unbuttoned his fly and knelt behind Caroline.

  “She doesn’t seem like the kind of woman who’d have such…refined tastes. Though my men are finding her useful enough.”

  Spots danced in front of Victoria’s eyes as Curtis rubbed her chemise against his bristled cheek. “What’s yer name, son?” Curtis asked the man who’d given up her name so easily.

  “B…Billy.”

  “Well, B…Billy. Where is this Miss Victoria you speak of? If she looks as fine as some of her under things, I think I might like to get to know her.”

  Billy looked around as he found himself at the center of attention, and Victoria could hear him gulp from where she was hiding.

  “She took her bucket down to the creek. More than an hour’s past.”

  Curtis uncocked his gun and holstered it, making the prisoners breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Billy. You’ve been mighty helpful. But you didn’t mention what direction she went. How am I supposed to find the love of my life if I don’t know which way she went?”

  The Blackstone Gang all started laughing at their leader’s quip, and Billy turned red in embarrassment.

  “S…sssorry, Sir,” Billy answered.

  “It’s no problem, Billy. All you’ve got to do is point in her general direction. I doubt it’ll take me long to find one little woman.”

  Victoria pushed to her feet and tied her skirts back up, her hands shaking so bad she could barely hold on to the fabric. She looked up in time to see Billy pointing north, in the opposite direction she was hiding.

  “Thank you, Billy,” Curtis said, tipping his hat. “You know what to do, boys. I’ll be back with Miss Victoria before the sun sets.” He dug his spurs into the flanks of his horse and took off to the north in search of her.

  Victoria took a second to say a grateful prayer for Billy before she turned and ran for her life into the trees. An explosion of gunfire echoed through the sky, making the ground tremble beneath her feet, and she knew none of her travelling companions would be going home tonight.

  Chapter Three:

  Holly Behr

  Dusk was just beginning to fall as Victoria fell to the ground, a painful stitch burning in her side. She didn’t know how far she’d run, but her feet were raw with blisters and every step felt as if hot knives were cutting into her skin.

  She crawled on hands and knees and whimpered in relief as she saw a small light glowing in the distance. Surely Curtis wasn’t still looking for her. It would be impossible to track anyone in the darkness and through the dense trees. But that didn’t mean she didn’t need to put as much distance between him and herself as possible.

  The light began to shine brighter as she drew nearer, and she realized it was coming from a house. She couldn’t see the size of the place or even where the front door was because of how dark it was, but she could see a lone lantern hanging from a window and the candle flame reflecting off the glass. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen and tears streamed down her face as she began to crawl faster.

  Victoria gritted her teeth and pushed herself to her feet, tripping and stumbling like a drunkard, as she got closer.

  “Hello,” she croaked out, her voice rusty from terror and thirst. “Is anyone out there? Please, help me.”

  She held her hands straight out in front of her to keep from running head on into anything and came in contact with a porch railing made of wide, rough logs. She skimmed her hands along the wood, not caring about the splinters pricking her fingers, as she groped blindly around the house to a set of stairs that led up to the porch.

  “Hello,” she called out again, pounding on a door of thick wood.

  She knocked so long that her hand bruised and she finally dropped her head against the door in defeat, even as her legs gave out from fatigue. She crumpled to the hard floor of the porch and caught herself on the door knob. It twisted soundlessly beneath her grip and the door opened on well oiled hinges.

  Victoria fell across the threshold into a large open room. The lantern shone from another room to her right and gave off just enough light for her to see where she was. It was a large family room. The floors were smooth wood and braided rugs were scattered about. The furniture was mismatched but somehow still managed to look cozy, and various kinds of rifles sat on hooks high on the wall—they were polished to a shine and she could practically smell the cleaning oil from where she lay.

  A staircase led up to an open room above the stairs, but she immediately dismissed it since her legs protested the thought of going up. She crawled further into the room and slammed the door closed with her foot. She winced at the noise and thought someone would come out and confront her for sure, but only silence greeted her worry.

  “Is anyone home?” she called out just to be safe, and then breathed a sigh of relief when no one answered. She stood up, stretching her sore muscles, and kicked her shoes off, leaving them in the middle of the floor. Her feet were a mess, and they needed a good soak, but she had need of food and sleep more than she did of bandaging her feet.

  Luck was on her side. Whoever lived in the house must be out of town. No one would be crazy enough to be out in the woods alone after dark. They must have left the light burning by mistake. It was a stupid thing to do to be sure. The whole house could have gone up in flames with their carelessness.

  The wagon master had said Wilmont was the closest town, and that was more than ten miles away. She felt reasonably safe making the assumption that she’d be alone for awhile. She could get a good night’s sleep and be on her way in the morning before the owners came home.

  Victoria bolted the door and grabbed a rifle from the wall. She had no idea how to use one, but she’d seen it done often enough. It couldn’t be that hard to point and pull the trigger. She did a quick walkthrough of the first floor, liking how the house was a big open square and the family room and kitchen were open to each other.

  She stopped in front of a large painting that hung over a grand stone fireplace, and stood transfixed as she looked at a portrait of what must surely be the masters of the house. They were both young in the painting. One of the men with fair hair and eyes the color of fog. His was a classic face that showed good humor and intelligence. But it wasn’t this man’s face that captured the portrait. It was the other man that had her holding her breath.

  The similarities between the two were striking, but where one was goldenrod and light,
the other was darkness itself. His hair was thick and black and curled slightly around a face that could charm the devil himself. Dark brows winged over eyes that were the palest blue she’d ever seen. She couldn’t say he was as classically handsome as the other man in the portrait, but this man made her want. He was danger and heartbreak and lust all rolled into one, and it was a damned good thing she was going to be gone before he returned home. There was no way Harold meant for her to get bedroom experience with a man like that. A man like this would ruin her for all others.

  She jerked herself away from the painting and went into the kitchen. The lantern was hanging in the window, and she made herself at home. She sliced a few pieces of meat from the ham that was hanging in the larder, and grabbed a couple of cold biscuits that were wrapped in some cheesecloth. There was fresh jam and butter and she gorged herself as if she’d never had such a fine meal.

  The outhouse was attached to the main house, and she made use of it before turning down the lantern and making her way to the bedroom. She shed her filthy clothes and let them drop to the floor, not caring where they fell. Her skirt and petticoats were left like breadcrumbs to the bedroom, she draped her under things across a rocking chair, and she tossed her cursed corset into the corner.

  There was a washstand in the corner and she took a few minutes to wash up. It was the last thing she had energy to do. She fell face first into a bed of soft white down and was asleep before she could remember she’d left the rifle against the wall on the other side of the room.

  ***

  Victoria woke with the sensation of butterflies kissing her forehead. Pearly gray light washed the room in hazy color and she stretched languorously before lifting her heavy lashes and staring into the most vivid green eyes she’d ever seen. The woman was brushing the hair back from Victoria’s forehead with a gentle touch.