A Contract Bride's Triple Surprise Read Online Free

would cause problems wouldn’t be back from Baldy’s Saloon until the wee hours. He stopped outside the second door from the front.
    His wife waited in there. If she was anything like Prudence, he wouldn’t have to worry about her clinging to him. Like damn near every woman he’d met, Prue was scared of him. The few others wanted the temporary excitement of being with a man who made tough men gulp and back away. A woman didn’t bring that type of man home.
    None of them cared about who he was or what he wanted in life. He didn’t expect his wife to be any different. At least she’d insisted on meeting in the dark for the first time. She’d be able to see his size but not his features.
    And damn, he was looking forward to her feeling his size. Every inch of it throbbed, and there were more inches pressing against his thigh than in years.
    He knocked lightly on the suite door. When he heard nothing, he used the key Sophie provided when he rented the room. He bolted the door behind him. Not being the trusting sort, he set a chair in front of the door. His hearing was like a fox, but he’d never tested it when he was occupied with a wife.
    The dim room held a light scent of roses, like the fancy milled soap sold at the Tanner’s Ford Mercantile. Sophie told him Amelia had brought only one small trunk upstairs. The rest of her things would arrive by wagon in the morning. Waiting for it would give him time to learn about Amelia before heading home. By then, the wagon would be full of whatever a city woman considered necessary.
    Prue said Amelia had brown hair, was a few inches shorter, and had terrible burn scars on her face, right hand, and arm. Other than that, he knew little.
    His eyes fully adjusted to the dark during the few minutes it took to rest his jacket over the back of a chair and pull off his boots. He walked silently to the half-open door to the bedroom. His lungs contracted and heart thudded hard. He grasped the doorjamb with his hand.
    “Hot damn,” he whispered.
    His wife lay on her left side, facing the far wall. A shaft of moonlight from the high window lit her body. She wore an almost sheer, white nightgown. Brown hair streamed across the pillow like a pennant held by a galloping Army soldier. Her body dipped from her shoulders to her waist before flaring to wide hips. A dark shadow showed the cleft between her plump ass cheeks. He choked. She sighed and rolled onto her back, proving her breasts were as ample as the rest of her.
    His cock jerked, demanding to plow into her, now! He agreed. He didn’t care where, be it mouth, breasts, pussy, or ass, just that he brand her as his.
    Under white man’s law, she belonged to him, and he could do whatever he wanted to her. Lend her to his friends, ignore her, or beat her to near death. It was his right, just because both of their names were written on a piece of paper. It was not his way. When he claimed something, it was his. Child, woman, or horse.
    His cock strained against his buttons. He couldn’t hold back a groan. He knew the second he woke her. She faked it well, but her deep breathing missed a beat before starting again. The clincher was her right breast, the one lit by the slanting moon. As he watched, a large nipple rose to strain against her nightgown. In case he missed it, the shadow thrown by the moon exaggerated its size.
    Ross exhaled all the tension he hadn’t realized he carried. As soon as she knew he was near, her nipple sat up and begged for his touch. He considered that a very good start for an Eastern virgin. He could almost feel the way that nipple would roll around his tongue. He took a few deep breaths to make sure he could speak without his voice breaking like an eager boy.
    “Good evening, Mrs. MacDougal,” he finally said. “I know you’re awake.”
    She stiffened and opened her eyes. He stood in shadow, watching her. Mother Moon had never lit up a more beautiful sight.
    “I was just resting my eyes,” she drawled. “I