Dominating Devney (Montana Maiden 3)

I expected freedom in my widowhood, not attempted rape. I'd expected to forge my own path, my own journey for my life, but even from the grave, Jack dictated what I could do. Because of his fortune, I would be sought after. The way Doctor Graham had spoken of my maidenhead, it too, was a precious commodity. How he'd known Jack's secret, I probably would never know. Regardless, these men were serious and a rifle would not sway them.

They were big, virile men, one of whom wanted me. Not my money, but me. I'd heard of the Bridgers from Jack's mumblings over dinner. They were good men who ran a good ranch. He'd had nothing bad to say, at least not within my hearing.

This Bridger, Sam, was tall. As we stood on the porch, I'd had to tilt my head back to look him in the eye even though I was very tall myself. His hair was fair, like wheat in the winter. His eyes were light green, like his shirt. He had a straight nose and a strong jaw that was covered in gold stubble. His shirt snugly fit his broad shoulders and a torso that tapered into a trim waist. He wore tan pants and leather boots; his legs were long as well muscled. Handsome was one word to describe him. Manly, bold and brooding were others. His gaze had been fixed on me since I first opened the door. Even with my naiveté about the stronger sex, I felt attraction. My heart sped when I looked at him. The way he watched me made my palms go damp. The room was overly warm and I believed, but was too afraid, to look down to see that my nipples had hardened. Why, at the old age of twenty-five, did I long to feel the rasp of his whiskers? I'd been out of contact with people too long to have such notions pop into my head.

He was everything Jack was not. Young, handsome, and from his heavy lidded gaze, attracted to me. He'd said outright he wanted my maidenhead. I had no doubt he'd rid me of it with ruthless, sensual precision. But attraction couldn't be enough. I'd learned that rash thinking on lifelong decisions did not bode well.

I cleared my throat. "Thank you, Mr. Bridger, for your surprising offer, but I decline."

There, I'd done it. I could continue to live my solitary existence in peace.

"Very well. Sheriff, grab my satchel, please."

The man stood and left the room, quickly returning with a black leather bag.

"You are both now under my protection until you choose to marry." Doc opened the bag and pulled out a leather belt. Or at least it looked like one. There was more than one strap and it fastened strangely. "You will wear a belt that protects your pussy and maidenhead from men with less than perfect scruples. As the town doctor, I am frequently called out, so I cannot supervise you constantly. This will allow for protection in my absence."

"I will not wear that," Sarah said, standing and moving slowly backward toward the door, pointing at the contraption the doctor held up. She flicked glances behind her as if ready to bolt like an untamed mustang.

"If Devney marries, you won't be obligated. Devney's husband will be your protector until you wed," Doctor Graham replied, adding this caveat.

I sat there, considering the doctor's words. If I married, then Sarah would not only be safe, she wouldn't have to be subjected to this ridiculous belt being held before us. It looked...odd. I could only imagine what it would feel like about my waist, between my legs. The idea was not appealing. And for how long? How long could we endure the rules of the doctor's protection? Or, I could save both Sarah and myself distress, embarrassment and discomfort.

"There has to be an alternative."

The sheriff spoke. "Do you have family to take you in?"

I arched a brow, knowing I’d rather be confined to the doctor's ridiculous contraption than return to my father - if I knew where he was. "I think you're well aware that we don't." The three men sat patiently and waited for me to come to a decision. "Very well," I replied, glancing at Sam Bridger. He remained quiet, yet watched me closely. Waiting. "I will marry Mr. Bridger."

"No!" Sarah cried, placing her small hand on my arm and giving it a squeeze. "You will not sacrifice yourself again, this time for me. It is only a belt to protect my chastity. It is not permanent, like marriage." She stepped forward, all the while keeping her gaze on me. She wasn't usually so obliging. "Doctor, I will wear the belt."

I jumped up. With my height, I towered over my stepdaughter. "Sarah, please. It will keep you from constant grief. Then you may choose whom you wish to wed." After seven years, I knew her well. Knew that the stubborn tilt of her chin meant that she would get her way.

"If you really wish to marry Mr. Bridger, let it be for reasons other than me," she countered. "Daddy loved Barnaby. It was unconventional, and because of that kept a secret, but he loved him. I could see the lust, the desire in their eyes when they looked upon each other. I want someone to look at me in just such a way. I want that for you. You should want that, too. We'll think of something. In the meantime, just...just do as he says. Please. It is a small burden to bear to leave here."

I saw pleading in her eyes and something else, although I didn't know what it was and couldn't ask. We were only a few years apart in age and had spent years isolated together in this very house. I'd been her schoolteacher and companion, but it was time for her to see more of the world. She'd done nothing to be held in this comfortable prison. I, however, had chosen this life. Grudgingly, I had to agree with her.

"All right," I murmured. I would abide by Sarah's wishes and the doctor's order until I could formulate an alternative. Somehow, in the matter of minutes, I'd lost complete control of my life. I had no choice but to go to town and wear some form of a chastity belt until I wed. If I didn't marry...well, I didn't want to consider how long I'd have to don the contraption. In a roundabout way, the doctor was all but forcing me into marriage.

Doctor Graham grabbed a second belt from his satchel. "Please remove your drawers."

We stood as the men sat in a row before us. Every move we made was witnessed by not only the doctor, but by the sheriff and Mr. Bridger as well. Although Sarah was a woman grown, she'd been so sheltered that she looked to me for guidance. Not eager to comply, I had to set the example, so I reached beneath my dress and undid the laces on my cotton drawers, letting them fall to the floor. The way I could feel my heart pounding, I wasn't sure if I appeared as calm and collected as I wished. Darting a glance, I saw that Mr. Bridger's eyes followed the motions of my hands. His green eyes had darkened to the color of emeralds and his jaw was clenched. A vein ticked in his temple.

Heat flooded my cheeks at the very thought of what I was doing.

Sarah slowly complied as well.

"Thank you, ladies. Devney, you are first. Please lift your skirts and step into the harness."

I looked down at the item I was about to don and now understood its function. It was like a belt for a man's pants, but it also contained another strip of leather that ran from the front to the back that would be positioned directly over my woman's place, covering it so that it could not be touched. I could not be raped or violated with it on. It was both ridiculously reassuring after the week we'd had, yet understandably confining. The decision to don this garment was out of my control, and this irked me immensely.

I held my skirt up just enough so that I could see my feet and placed one, then the other, through the straps. Slowly, Doctor Graham worked the cool leather up my legs. Instead of watching his actions, I kept my gaze fixed on Mr. Bridger, who followed the harness up my thighs, my skin exposed to him inch by inch. I should feel embarrassed, should feel something about how this was not appropriate, but I couldn't. The way Mr. Bridger looked upon my flesh made me...warm. Made me want. What? I did not know.

Doctor Graham knelt before me and adjusted the harness so that the strap that went between my legs was positioned properly, then cinched the belt about my waist snugly. "Turn around."

I complied and I knew Mr. Bridger could see my bottom, the leather strap coming from between my legs. It was not comfortable. I'd never had something between my legs in this manner and it was hard and cold, and tight enough where there was no give, no way to shift it aside. The way it slight

ly spread the cheeks of my bottom would be a constant distraction. The belt about my waist was snug, but not tight. He applied a simple lock to the back, cold against my skin, then Doctor Graham slid a finger beneath the leather at my hip to ensure the fit was comfortable. "Very good. You may lower your dress."