Read Online Demanding Satisfaction [Bride Train 9] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Reece Butler - Free Book Online Page A

above, he pulsed into her. An inch or so at a time, he spread her swollen flesh as he entered. He kept going, and going. Every inch brought more fulfillment until he was seated deep. His blond hair tangled with her dark at their juncture.
    She gripped as he pulled out, agonizingly slowly. She watched his cock emerge, glistening with her juices. She barely caught sight of the almost-purple head when he entered her again. This time he went the whole way, excruciatingly slowly.
    Again he did it, ever so slow, in and out. Again the tension in her climbed. The third time she couldn’t stand it. She reached down and touched her clit with one hand, her breast with the other. He grinned rakishly.
    “That’s it, my love. I can’t reach those lovelies.”
    Her clit was so tender from earlier, her nipples the same, that it took little to bring her to the edge. She tried to urge Sam to go faster, but though he gritted his teeth, eyes jammed shut above her, he kept the same wonderful snail pace.
    “Faster, Sam! I need to come!”
    “Thank God,” he muttered. Caught almost out of her, he slammed home. She gasped and groaned. He stared down at her as he thrust again, still too slow but deliciously hard. “Mine!” he said between teeth clenched in effort.
    Her busy fingers found what she needed. She was almost there when he slammed deep and hard inside her. Yes! He dropped to her chest and grasped her shoulders, pumping hard and fast. She freed her hands and gripped his bottom. It was good, but she wanted more. She lifted her knees, exposing more of her pussy to him. He almost howled as he came. Hard, fast, desperate, his strokes set her off again. She threw back her head.
    “Oh, God, Sam. Yes!”
    “Sophie!” he shouted, pumping again and again as her orgasm faded.
    Sweat-slicked chests heaved against each other. She looked up, barely able to open her heavy eyes. The wicked boy was back.
    “You’re gonna sleep well tonight, sugar.”
    He winked before snuggling down onto his back. He pulled her over him and tucked her head under his chin. His arm went around her, both possessive and protective.
    “You can’t stay,” she said, though she wished she didn’t have to.
    “Just until you fall asleep,” he murmured in return. “Now hush, sugar. I got you.”

Chapter 8
     
    “You got back late,” grumbled Max as he and Sam travelled the road toward Bannack City. The mountains to the east blocked the sunrise, but the sky was a lighter gray than when they started out. “Were the Jennets fighting again?”
    Neither the banker, Hugh, or his wife, Eudora, were pleased at having come down in the world. She’d been rescued from the possibility of murder or worse, and then left in jail rather than being returned home. Sheriff Barstow ordered it mostly to protect her, but also because they had suspicions she hired Joe Sheldrake to kill her husband. Max had to shake his head when he heard he’d hired the same man to do his wife in.
    But Hugh had hauled Eudora out of jail on his return to town. He could do nothing less with her screaming blue murder to get out. Sheldrake’s death made it difficult to prove if either wanted the other dead.
    That didn’t matter as much to the Pinkerton Agency as discovering whether Eudora had stolen a large amount of gold from her father’s bank, years earlier. His death occurred six months before the Jennets arrived in Tanner’s Ford, flush with enough gold to start a bank. That was nine years ago. Since then their finances had taken a beating, mostly through bad railroad investments encouraged by Orville Rivers. The man accusing Eudora of theft was her much younger brother.
    Her father had lavished attention on Eudora, his only child, for years. But the much-anticipated arrival of a cherished son meant she’d had to share her dear papa’s attention. And when he died, he left everything to his son. That included the right of her younger brother to dictate her life and economic circumstances. Max