Dominating Devney (Montana Maiden 3)

She was mine. But she needed a gentle touch, some simple coaxing, for now. She wasn't the typical town maiden, unaware of what happened in married life. She might be a virgin, but she'd been married, and it had damaged her. She had desires and passions that hadn't been aroused. I would do that to her, for her, with her. Soon.

She sucked in a deep breath. "I agreed to marriage with you to protect her, but she's run away. I don't think it's a requirement now, do you, Mr. Bridger?"

I eyed her. The loose fabric of her nightgown hid all her secrets. But I'd felt her long legs, gotten a brief glimpse of her pussy, noticed her tight nipples through the fabric. Marriage was necessary, very necessary if the rock hard cock in my pants was any indicator. "You need a husband, Devney - one that's not going to ignore you for seven years. I'm going to fuck you night and day, anywhere I can have you. I'm going to take care of your every need."

Her mouth dropped open at my plain talk. "I...I don't have any needs."

"You will, baby," I assured her, grinning. "Very soon. Now that you know I'm claiming you, your body will start to recognize that, even if your mind says otherwise. Your body won't lie, Devney."

"How? I...I don't understand."

"You'll start to become hot all over, your skin sensitive. Your nipples will be hard little points all the time. Your breasts will tingle and send little flashes of heat to your clit that's between your lush thighs. It will start to pulse while your pussy is wet. And it's going to get very wet. You're going to fantasize about rubbing yourself, fucking yourself with your fingers, with anything that will fit up inside you. And you'll start thinking of me when you do it."

She held up a shaky hand and I could see her pupils dilate at the ideas I'd placed in her head. "I doubt that very much." She glanced at me, then at McKenzie, who just shrugged noncommittally.

"Don't worry, baby, it's only natural. Jenkins wasn't the man for you. I am. You'll let me know when you're ready." I stood. It was time to step back, let her think I wasn't pushing her into a fait accompli and let McKenzie take care of her until Doc got back. "The sheriff's going to take you back to Doctor Graham's to rest. You'll be safe with both of them."

"When Doc returns, I'll go look for Sarah." McKenzie stood, put his gun back in the holster about his waist. "She can't have gone far."

Devney

I awoke to bright sunlight streaming through the window. The sheriff had escorted me back to Doctor Graham's house and I fell back asleep in the extra bedroom upstairs. It had been dawn then, so I assumed the day was already half gone. I washed at the basin and tidied my hair, then removed the rumpled nightgown. Standing in front of the mirror, I could now see the harness in its full effect. The dark leather was snug about my waist and between my legs. It was wide enough to cover me completely, although I could see some glistening hair peek out, coated in the ointment. The greasy substance had also worked its way down onto my thighs. Mr. Bridger had been correct, the slickness kept the belt from chafing. Instead, it made the leather slippery, and rub against me in a way that I actually found pleasant.

I shifted my hips and sucked in a breath. Something there flickered warmly. I did it again and I gasped. It was a sensation unlike anything I'd ever felt before. I placed my hand over that spot, my fingertips touching the cool leather. Nothing. I pushed harder and a burst of pleasure washed over me and felt my nipples tighten within the confines of my corset. I needed to do it again. But I shouldn't. It was shameful, touching myself like that, so I quickly donned a fresh dress. As I did, my fingers trembled and I longed to touch myself again. Should I do it? I paused, biting my lip as I listened. Nothing. I was alone. I could touch myself quietly and no one would know. It would be a secret.

I sat down on the side of the bed, opened my legs wide and reached beneath my dress to touch that newly discovered spot, moving my fingers back and forth.

My inner muscles clenched, trying to grasp at something. Mr. Bridger had said I'd want to stick my fingers inside myself. Did I? I squeezed internally again. The idea wasn't preposterous, but I couldn't attempt it. The leather was too tight; I couldn't even slip a finger beneath. Frustration welled along with need.

I returned to rubbing the strap of leather, trying to make the pleasure build, but it didn't work. Mr. Bridger said I'd become aroused...Mr. Bridger. His face came to mind. Penetrating green eyes, strong jaw, full lips. He was rugged, domineering, powerful. It was as if his presence overpowered my own thoughts, made me want to please him. I'd never felt thusly before, so why now? Why him? Oh yes, he'd said...he'd said I'd think this way because I belonged to him. That I was his. Was I? Was he being truthful or trying to ensnare me like Mr. Wainright? The fact that my body was behaving as he'd predicted led me to believe he knew of what he spoke. That fact was a little daunting because that meant I'd soon become obsessed with this...ache.

I continued to move the leather strap over my woman's place as I thought of him, his handsome face, knowing he would know what to do to help me. He would--

Someone knocked on the door.

I squeezed my legs together, smoothed out my skirt frantically. "Yes?" I squeaked.

"Mrs. Jenkins, may I enter?"

It was Doctor Graham. I stood and moved away from the bed. "Yes, of course."

He did and his gaze raked over me, assessing with cool, clinical eyes, not with a heated gaze like Mr. Bridger. Could he tell what I'd been doing? "I need to check the harness and make sure it is not causing you harm. Will you follow me to my office?"

The room he directed me to was clinical. Two chairs were against one wall, a neatly made bed against another, a wooden table in the middle and beside that a cabinet holding medical supplies. The floor was wood, the walls plain white. A door led outside, used by people from the town to see the doctor on a professional matter, not personal.

There was nothing out of the ordinary about the space, except for the man casually leaning against the table, arms crossed. Mr. Bridger. I paused in my steps at the sight of him. I felt my nipples tighten even further, felt my skin flush hotly as I remembered what I'd just been doing

as I thought of him. He smiled. That little tilt of his lips did something to me. Why was such a look from him so appealing?

"Hello, Devney."

"As Mr. Bridger is to be your husband, it is important that he is here."

"He's not...I mean, we haven't..." I couldn't collect my thoughts.

Mr. Bridger stood, his large presence overwhelming in the small room. "I am, and we have. I've just been patient."

Before I could argue, Doctor Graham cut in. "Turn around and lift your dress. I'll remove the harness."