The Virgin’s Offer - Chapter One

Sophie Kerr paused before knocking on Zach Briscoe’s cabin door, listening intently for any sign her foreman might have a woman in his bed. But the only sounds were the creak of Zach’s footsteps. Better the floorboards than the bedsprings.

She knocked softly and waited.

The evening was still, the moon rising on the horizon. On Saturday evenings, the ranch hands went to town to play cards, drink and carouse. She didn’t approve, but it was good the men weren’t around to see her outside Zach’s door at this hour. They’d be shocked she wasn’t in her usual trousers and chaps. Tonight she wore a dress. Her laciest, most feminine dress, complete with corset and stockings. All to convince him to stay on as foreman of the Kerr Ranch.

The door opened and Zach appeared. His shoulders spanned the width of the doorframe and his head barely cleared the top. His eyes, the color of turquoise, widened and then darkened. Looming over her, he seemed even more intimidating than usual.

His lip curled with obvious displeasure. “What the hell are you doing?” He pulled her inside, slamming the door. “Good thing none of the men are here.”

She tried to swallow the knot lodged in her throat. “I came to talk to you.”

He held her arm in his grip, encircling her wrist with his work-roughened hand. Heat sparked from his touch. She tried to give him an imperious glare, but he was head and shoulders taller. Her I’m-the-boss attempts were always easier from atop a horse.

His eyes flashed with fury as his gaze drifted down her dress. Awareness bloomed inside her, starting at her breasts and further down her belly, to gather between her legs.

His gaze bore into hers. “You going somewhere, or did you get all prettied up to come see me?”

“I came to see you. To talk about w-work.”

Now she started stammering? When she needed her confidence more than ever?

Her words sounded pathetic. While dressing that evening, she’d rehearsed her speech, but all her sensible arguments drifted away. She felt like a fool, standing in his cabin on a Saturday evening in her best dress.

He arched a brow. “You’re a lot of trouble. You know that? Maybe I’ll just leave you in charge of the ranch since you seem to know how to do everything so much better than me.”

She shook her head, rejecting his words. Zach was a tyrant – ruled the Kerr Ranch like it was his own kingdom. It was because of him the ranch hands followed orders, and it was because of him cattle sales had doubled in the last year. The ranch needed him. She needed him.

“What if I double your wages?” She knew the question of wages was hardly an issue, but she was desperate. When he’d taken the last group of cattle to auction, she’d offered him half the profits. He told her to give it the ranch hands instead.

“Double wages…”A smile tugged at his lips as if the suggestion amused him. He stroked his thumb under the cuff of her sleeve. “Mrs. Rawls offered me triple just yesterday. Guess word’s gotten around how I don’t care for backtalk because she came right out and said she’d do anything I told her to do. I think she’s sorta lonesome.”

Sophie pulled away from him as jealousy burned inside her. Julia Rawls’ husband died of a fever last year and she’d been making eyes at Zach ever since. Sophie always assumed he’d be there for her, that he had a certain fondness for her. He’d run her father’s ranch for two years now. He taught her how to ride, rope and even how to two-step and waltz when she was eighteen.

She was twenty now, but he still watched out for her. Her father never gave her the time of day, too busy with travels and visiting his mistress. After he passed away she wondered how she’d manage on her own, but Zach stayed on, protecting her from cattle rustlers and cutthroats and every other sort of nasty character. Now he was leaving – leaving her to fend for herself.

A trunk sat in the middle of the cabin, the lid open. Lamplight flickered across the room, casting it in a soft, amber light. Was he packing? Already? He was angry with her. The latest row started that afternoon when they’d had an argument about a new bull she bought at auction. It had quickly turned into a heated debate. Zach told her if she wanted him as a foreman, she’d better start asking permission before buying livestock – especially a dangerous animal like a bull.

Permission! Like she was five and not almost twenty. She’d called him an arrogant, cantankerous beast which only made him more furious. She ran her fingers along the top the trunk, aware of a coldness filling her. A feeling of vulnerability and loneliness. The trunk stood empty, but soon it would contain his belongings. Her heart pinched with pain.

“I can’t run this ranch without you,” she whispered, keeping her back to him. Tears burned her eyes.

He moved behind her and cupped her shoulders. The warmth of his hands made her heart beat an erratic rhythm.

“My point exactly.”

“Tell me how to fix this.”

“You can fix this by telling me why you’re here. Do you need a foreman?” His voice dropped. He leaned closer “Or do you need me?”

She closed her eyes and swallowed. He’d humiliate her, make her beg, all because she’d sassed him about the bull. Worse yet, she’d sassed him in front of the cowboys. He alluded to what had simmered between them from the very beginning, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until she confessed.

“I need you,” she said.

The words hung in the space between them.

“That’s nice. I like that.” A soft rumble of laughter greeted her ears. “Keep talking. You could probably convince me to stay.”

This was progress, even though his arrogant words grated. She felt powerless to his demands, but at least they were talking. “I’m…sorry.”

“Sorry? What if that’s not good enough?”

He pulled her closer and swiveled her to face him. His embrace felt like steel, impossible to break. Awareness danced along every nerve ending. His fingers gripped her arms, sending raw need through her. He always kept a respectful distance, even when in the heat of an argument, but now he held her so close her breasts pressed against the muscular planes of his chest.

She drew a sharp breath as his scent hit her. He smelled of leather and saddle soap, and a masculine scent that was all his own – an essence of danger. He was hard, aroused – she could feel the unmistakable heat pressed against her belly.

“I know you,” he said. “You’re stubborn. Saying sorry isn’t good enough for you.”

She shivered and fought the currents of need that raced through her. “What more do you want?”

“Maybe I want to be sure you’re sorry.” He spoke sharply.

Uncertainty gave way to alarm as a dangerous energy pulsed between them. His eyes darkened with desire. She’d come here ready to offer herself to him, but his intensity frightened her and made her want to flee.

He went on, “If I’m staying, you’re doing what I say from now on.”

She nodded, tamping down the panic inside. Maybe they could come to some sort of agreement.

“You’re going to have to pay for talking back to me.”

Fear slammed into her. Pay? “Wh-what do you mean?”

He closed the trunk and sat down. With a quick movement, he snared her waist, and pulled her off her feet, making her cry out. She found herself over his lap. She twisted in his grip, but he pressed his forearm across her shoulders and she stilled, panting softly. Her whole body hummed with fearful anticipation. Her nerves drew taut as a barbed wire. Once before he’d threatened to put her over his knee. She remembered the threat with crystal clarity. Remembered how his words had both shocked and aroused her.

He leaned down. “Problem is, you never had anyone care enough to discipline you. Your daddy just let you run wild.”

Discipline…? “Let me go. I don’t like this.”

He rubbed a knuckle along her jawbone. “I think you do.”

She kicked her feet and struggled, but he held her in an iron grip and yanked up her skirts. They landed on her back. Desire bloomed inside her and she drew a gasp, not from his rough treatment, but from the warmth that heated between her legs.

Stroking her bottom over the cover of her pantalets, he chuckled. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve wanted to give you a good spanking.”

Disbelief battled with need. Surely, he wouldn’t really spank her. Rough calloused fingertips ran under the edge of her pantalets and she moaned softly, fighting the desire to part her legs. Like some sort of wanton, she needed his touch.

He tugged down her pantalets. She reached back to stop him, a startled cry frozen in her throat.

“Put your hands on the floor,” he ordered.

With a small whimper, she did as she was told and cringed with humiliation as he pulled her panties down to her knees. He drew a breath, the air hissing between clenched teeth. He stroked her bottom. His touch was so gentle she wondered if the threat of a spanking was genuine.

“I’m going to spank you ten times, if you’re a good girl. Twenty if you’re bad.”

“What do you mean?” she asked in a panicked whisper.

“If you keep your hands on the floor, I’ll only spank you ten times.”

Before she could respond, his hand came down on her bottom. She shrieked. It felt like fire burning on her skin. When he spanked her again, she writhed as tendrils of flame raced along her bottom and heated her feminine core. Her mind rebelled at his punishment, but her body responded with primitive desire. Twice more he smacked her on her thigh, then twice more on her other thigh. She whimpered, feeling her sex grow slick.

She wriggled, seeking relief from the arousal. He growled, clasping a hand on her waist to hold her still. Four more blows stung her skin. When he was done, he caressed her. She waited, her breath slowly coming back to her and she wondered what surprised her more, his severe treatment or her wicked arousal.

“Good girl,” he praised.

She gasped for breath, sniffed and wiped tears from her eyes. His fingers trailed down between her legs and she stilled. He stroked her wet heat.

“What’s this, baby? You want more than a spanking?”

“No!”

He delved deeper across her desire-slickened core until his fingers brushed a spot that sent shivers of need across her.

“No…” She arched her back and shuddered.

He lifted her in his arms and kissed her in a raw act of possession. With his tongue, he stroked the seam of her lips. She parted them, submitting to him immediately. Her bottom stung but she needed his kiss. She clung to him. He cupped her head with his hands and kissed her with long, drugging kisses. He pulled away, his gaze still thunderous.

“You think I’m going to stand by and watch you put yourself in danger? Run off and buy some untried bull?”

She shook her head. “No, not really.”

“How about sitting around watching every single wet-behind-the ears boy with a hard-on come to the ranch to court my girl? Think that’s ever going to happen again?”

“Your girl?” She let out a breathless laugh.

His glare darkened. “I need to put you over my knee again?”

She drew a sharp breath and shook her head. “I want you to kiss me again.”

He pulled her closer. When he kissed her, she looped her arms around his neck, wondering if she was awake or dreaming. His strong arms around her, his kiss, his scent, his hand on her bare bottom – all of it was too much to take in.

Without breaking the kiss, he pulled her dress down and unlaced the ribbons of her corset. “You’re wet,” he whispered. “You want me.”

She should object. Push him away, but her greatest fear was that he might stop. When his rough hand cupped her breast she thought she might die of pleasure. He stroked her and then squeezed her taut nipples. Not only did she not want him to stop, she wanted to touch him, too.

“I do,” she whispered. Shyly, she threaded her fingertips along the inside of his shirt. Her fingers skimmed the thick muscles of his chest. What would he look like without his shirt? She undid the buttons and stroked his shoulder. He groaned and broke the kiss.

“Stay the night with me.”

She nodded, her heart beating a wild tattoo.

He set her on her feet, tugged her dress free and then her corset and pantalets. She stood before him wearing only stockings while he stared at her hungrily. “Just like I’ve always imagined.”

She blushed and wanted to shield herself from his eyes, but he must have guessed her intention and took her hands in his.

“Lie on my bed.”

She obeyed him and he followed, a step behind.

“I sure like the look of your ass after I’ve given you a few licks. Nice and pink. I’ll be doing some more of that.”

She put a knee on the bed and then the other as he loomed over her. A tremor of fear shook her. She glanced at his hands. They were big, strong and capable of every task on the ranch, from calf roping to tossing bales of hay. Now she could add spanking to the list.

Scooting back on the bed to gingerly protect her bottom, she watched him take off his shirt. His shoulders were as wide as she’d ever seen on a man. His arms were thickly banded with muscle. A light dusting of blond hair spread across his chest.

“Lie back,” he commanded.

She obeyed, reclining against his quilt. Her thoughts spun in disbelief. She was lying on Zach’s bed, mostly naked while he watched her like a wolf stalking some small helpless creature.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Spread your legs.”

It was too much. She couldn’t expose herself like that. The cabin was lit only by lamplight, but still, she would feel far too vulnerable to show him. “No.” She shook her head. “I won’t.”

His lips curved into a devilish smile. He prowled across the bed, took her hands in his and raised them to the headboard.

“Keep your hands where I put them and I won’t tie you.”

She let out a small cry of indignation.

He grasped her ankles. Pushing them apart, his gaze drifted down her body and stopped at the juncture of her legs. He lowered to kiss her…there. She gasped and flinched when she felt his tongue stroke her. If he was punishing her, he was doing so in the most carnal and wicked way she could imagine.

He shifted his position, nudged his shoulders between her legs and licked her again.

Knees pushed apart, she was completely open to him. When he laved her with his tongue, a soft pleading came from her lips. What she begged for, she couldn’t say. She was wet. What he tasted was her desire, her need, her wantonness. She wished she could push him away, but what she wanted more was to give herself to him.

Zach growled, feeling the savage desire claw at his insides. He’d fantasized about this woman for longer than he cared to remember. She was always on his mind. Always. And now she was on his bed. He inhaled her erotic scent. “Just like honey,” he murmured.

She gave a small astonished gasp, one that reverberated all the way to his cock. He suppressed a smile. If only she knew how long he’d imagined having her spread out beneath him so he could devour her.

He listened to her small mewls and felt his sanity slipping. She writhed, imploring him for more. He held her still so he could tease her as much as he liked, but the teasing made his lust burn hotter. He could feel her begin to lose herself to the pleasure he stoked. He knew she was close, and the idea he was going to make her come like this filled him with a primitive pleasure.

Sophie was his. All his, and he was about to show her. He licked her clit then sucked it between his lips. He added to her torment by stroking her narrow channel. She twisted, bucked and screamed his name as her climax rocked through her.

Like a dream. He coaxed every last shred of pleasure from her. Rising, he kept his gaze fixed on her as he shed his pants and stroked his cock. She stared at him in shock, her hands still clutching the bedpost.

He smiled. She was a vision. Full breasts tipped with small pink nipples, a narrow waist, curved hips that tapered to slender legs. Sophie, his sweet girl, still gripped the bedpost just like he’d instructed. Even though he’d made her scream with pleasure, she’d held her position. Her submission pleased him as much as making her come. For the past two years, he’d been trying to teach her to obey. Maybe he should have taken her to bed a long time ago.

He’d wanted her from the first time he met her – wanted her with a desire that he’d never known. But she’d been too young, a month shy of eighteen. Just a girl. The next two years she spent nursing her dying father, and then in mourning.

But now she was his. The time had come.

“I’ve wanted you a long time, Sophie. I should have walked away. You’re so young.”

“You’re only eight years older.”

He dropped to his bed and crawled over her. He pressed his cock against her tender flesh. She closed her eyes and moaned. He rested his weight on his forearms, pushed deeper till he met with the resistance of her innocence.

Her eyes fluttered open and she bit her lip. In her gaze he saw a mixture of need and apprehension. She was so damn tight. Her legs tightened around his hips, grasping them. The soft skin on the inside of her thighs felt like silk. The need to soothe her and gentle her, battled with the urge to possess her.

“You’ve always belonged to me,” he said softly.

She nodded. “Always.”

He groaned, thrusting hard past her barrier. She flinched and cried out. He held her, kissed her as she shuddered beneath him. He held her and scattered kisses across her jaw. This was the moment he’d imagined a thousand times and he wanted to ease her discomfort, to show her what she meant to him. Everything.

But what he wanted as well was to claim her, to drive hard into her sweet, tight heat. He waited, allowing her time to adjust. Her nails dug into his shoulders. It drove him wild, but he held back. She trembled and panted softly, clinging to him. Slowly, she relaxed, sinking into the bedding. He began slow movements, deliberately taking short strokes.

Beneath him, she moaned softly, her movements small and tentative at first but growing bolder. She lifted her legs and met his thrusts with her own. Gasping for breath, she keened softly, her breath fanning against his skin. Fierce desire overcame him. Abandoning restraint, he drove into her. She opened beneath him, unfurling like a small bloom and cried out as another orgasm shook her.

His response was savage. He gripped her waist, lifting her hips off the mattress to meet his thrusts. She gripped him with her thighs, clawed the sheets and cried out. He snarled as his climax followed hers. Panting, he set her back to the bed. Her eyes closed, she whimpered in his arms. Swollen and red, her lips bore the sign of his possessive kisses. He lowered to brush another kiss across them. He rolled to his side, keeping her in his embrace.

Deep satisfaction rolled over him. He’d taken what he wanted. She was his. Finally. The wind blew, bringing with it a small shower. Rain dripped off the eaves and she turned in his arms.

“This is the way it’s going to be from now on. I don’t want double wages. I want you. In my bed. Naked. And if you give me any trouble, I’ll redden your ass. Well, I’ll do that anyway.”

She drew a breath in preparation for an argument, but said nothing.

“Look at that. You can hold your tongue and not argue with me.”

He brought her a damp towel and tugged the blanket back in spite of her protests. Blood stained the sheets, the evidence of her innocence. She tugged the blanket, trying to cover the stain and her body, but he swatted her hands. Gently he cleaned her, then himself.

“You’ll marry me, too. Don’t think I won’t keep you in this bed till you agree.”

He returned to the bed and pulled her on top of him. Her breasts pressed against his chest, her legs settling on either side of his, exposing her pussy, making his cock throb.

She wriggled until she found a comfortable spot. His cock grew rigid and eager. She rested her cheek against his chest. “You want to get married just so you can boss me around whenever you want.”

Sinking against him, she grumbled about his dominating ways. He barely heard her words, but something about her impertinent tone sent a shot of lust through him that made his cock even harder.

Damn, he was a bastard. The last thing he should be thinking about was having her again. She lay on top of him, trusting him to take care of her and he wanted to take her again. If he wasn’t careful, he’d scare her off for sure.

He stroked the small of her back. It was satin beneath his fingers.

“You just want my land, Zach Briscoe. You don’t really want me.”

She nestled her face against his neck. His cock pulsed, brushing against her pussy. With a small gasp, she lifted her head and looked at him.

“Not thinking about ranchland, baby,” he murmured. Clasping her waist, he eased her down, pressing her against his erection. “I have money to buy my own ranch.” The head of his cock pushed against her.

She drew a breath of surprise. “Why don’t you?”

“Because there’s this girl I’m crazy about.”

She wriggled, the head of his shaft easing against her slick channel. Closing her eyes, she moaned softly.

“I don’t think you’re crazy about me at all. You’re always so stern and so bossy.” Her voice was soft and flirtatious. She edged her bottom away from his straining cock. Sitting up, she straddled him, the warmth of her sex against his belly, drawing a groan from him. Her breasts, beautiful and pert, begged to be stroked and sucked.

“You haven’t smiled at me in months,” she complained.

He reached for her breasts, but she pushed his hands away.

“Don’t do this, Sophie.” She lowered her tone several notches to mock his deep voice. “Don’t do that, Sophie.”

Tilting her head, she drew her pretty features into an impression of him scowling. She went on in a rendition of him giving mandates with a voice, steely and imperious. “Sophie, how many times I gotta tell you to latch the damned gate, check your cinch – twice, and what I’d really like to know is what’s it gonna take to get you to-”

“What I’d really like to know,” he said, grabbing her waist, “is what it’s gonna take to get you to ride my cock.” His voice was rough from need. He lowered her slowly, impaling her on the head of his shaft.

She cried out and bit her lip, shuddering as he eased her down. He released her, folded his hands under his head and watched. His attention was riveted to the expressions playing out on her face.

Her mouth, her lush, rose petal mouth, softened into a sweet smile. Her lips parted, her eyes widening before taking on a sensuous light, as her desire reawakened.

“Zach…”

“Ride me.”

She hesitated and then moved gently. The small motion sparked primitive instincts inside him. He fought the urge to grip her hips and show her how to ride him hard. He’d teach her someday soon.

Licking her lips, she let a soft moan escape. He gritted his teeth. Her breasts bounced. Full, with small upturned rosy nipples, they were the perfect size for his hands.

He wanted to watch her ride him, to find her own pleasure, so he resisted the urge to grab her ass and pull her down hard. A drop of sweat rolled down his temple. “More.”

She closed her eyes and rocked her hips, each motion a little more, but far from the savagery he craved. She leaned down, setting her hands on the pillow. Her tits were inches from his face. Little tease. This was too much for him. He slid his hands out from under his head and cupped her breasts. How long had he imagined what it would be like to caress them, and pinch her nipples? Their weight in his palm made him wild with a possessive hunger. He lifted his head and took a nipple in his mouth. She gasped and bucked on top of him. He flicked his tongue across the erect peak. She responded immediately, riding him harder.

They’d just had raw, primitive sex, but taking her like this felt like the first time all over again. After tonight, he’d never be the same. He’d taken what he wanted, but the taste of her only made him hungry for more.

She was his. He owned her.

Sucking her tit, he clasped her hips and ground her down. She dropped her astonished gaze to his eyes. He watched as pleasure stole across her features. He moved her up and down on him. The sight of her face was the most erotic thing he’d ever imagined. Her small sounds pleased him. He loved watching her ride his cock, everything about this first night a mixture of sin and innocence. Moaning, she closed her eyes and cried out as her pussy tightened around his cock. He roared, dug his fingers into her hips and shot his load deep. Folding her in his arms, he held her close.

“Don’t move,” he said softly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she answered.