His Errant Educator (Willamette Wives Book 3) (4 page)

"Naughty," he said, reaching for her hand and giving it a squeeze before pinning it to her lower back. "Only a few more and then, I do believe, your arse will be quite well heated, my dear."

"Twenty-six," she said a few minutes later, wondering if her friends were ever required to count swats during a spanking. She began to rise only to feel his hand pressing harder against her lower back.

"Did you forget that little eye roll earned you extra?"

"Oh… I-I did," she admitted truthfully.

"An additional half dozen should keep my naughty little wife's mind focused," he said, rubbing his hand over her right cheek.

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

"Ow! That hurt!" she said, her back arching as her head lifted off the bed.

"I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with that number…"

"I meant thirty!"

Crack!

"Thirty-one!"

"That's my good girl." His hand returned to soothe her reddened skin, fingers pausing to give the tender flesh a squeeze, causing her to moan. "Last one." This was the loudest crack of all, sounding exactly like his rifle did when he pulled the trigger.

"Thirty-two! Ow!" she yelped, her hips wagging up and down.

"Is your bottom warm?"

Looking over her shoulder, she knew her face most likely turned the color of her bottom—bright red—but she didn't care. "Yes, sir, but, Wyatt?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm really cold… inside." That was the absolute truth. All she wanted, make that desperately needed, was to feel her husband push inside her.

"We can't have that can we?" he said, grinning as he released the hand he was still holding and unbuttoned the fly of his trousers to release his cock. She swallowed hard, moisture dripping from her core at the sight of his erection.

"No, sir," she agreed, pushing herself up from the bed. She only got halfway before his hand pushed her down again.

"I didn't say you could get up. Spread your legs."

Her stomach spasmed and her sex clenched at his order even as she spread her legs a couple of inches.

"No, baby, spread them wide."

She obeyed.

"That's my good girl," he praised and caused her to groan as the palm that had just spanked her cupped her sex. "My, what a wet little girl you are, Agatha. Don't you think it's quite naughty to be dripping when you are getting your bottom spanked?"

She was positive her facial cheeks' color now surpassed the crimson stain of her nether cheeks at his order, and yet she felt another rush of her arousal leaking from her body. "Please, sir… please!"

He'd never taken her in this position, her cheek pressed to the mattress, her freshly spanked ass high. She felt his cockhead pressing against her slick opening, expecting him to enter her, and yet she needed to learn that her husband was not one to follow any expectation. Instead, she felt him sliding his cock up and down her slit, the tip nudging against her swollen clit with every pass. Whimpering, she attempted to follow it, to capture it between her pussy lips, to force it up inside her empty channel.

"Naughty," he said, drawing back so there was no contact even as he bent over her frame. "My game, remember?"

"Ye-yes, sir, but… please, I need…"

"To let me lead," he supplied, placing a kiss on the side of her neck and then nipping her earlobe. Pulling away, he again slid his shaft along her sex until she swore she could feel her toes curling with desperate need and her nipples aching from being pressed against the quilt's surface.

"Pull your cheeks apart," he said, continuing to stroke his shaft along her soaking slit.

"Wha-what?"

Crack!

"You heard me. Pull those little red globes apart." Her hands, which had been clutching at the sheets, fluttered back behind her. Dropping a finger to her sex, he circled her clitoris. "Show me your little secret hole."

"Wya… Wyatt…"

Crack!

"Ow… yes, sir!" His cock continued to slide as her fingertips slid into the divide of her bottom and slowly dragged them apart.

"Good girl. Wider, please." Once she had obeyed, the finger he'd used to stroke her little nub slid across her cunny, gathering even more of her cream and then moving up to her back entrance. He slowly pressed it inside, loving her mew as he continued until it was buried as deep as it would go. "Such a good girl." Wiggling his finger for a moment, he pulled it out only to add a second, scissoring them to encourage her tight muscle to relax.

"I don't know," he said, pushing both deep as she groaned. "It feels pretty warm to me. But my fingers are only so long." He thrust a few more times, in and out, stretching, pushing, delving deep until she was pushing up, mewing yet again. "I so want to please my wife, to fulfill her request to warm her. How fortunate that I have a much longer appendage to test the temperature of this incredible ass." As his fingers had played, he'd pressed just the smallest bit into her cunt to coat the mushroom shaped head of his cock. It took but a single breath to remove his fingers from her ass, replacing them with his shaft.

A scream split the air as he thrust into her and pulled her up at the same time. One arm slid around her waist, holding her to his chest, his fingers pinching and tugging on pebbled nipples, while the other kept her hands pinned between them as he began to fuck her in earnest. She had exploded within three strokes and could already feel another climax building as he took her as he desired. Each thrust upwards almost took her off her feet, her head thrown back against his shoulder, his fingers busy at her breasts, the taut peaks pulled and twisted until she was writhing against him. She got a hand free and lifted it to place it around his neck. With that, he released her other hand so he could give both her breasts the attention she craved and he loved to provide.

"Come for me again," he demanded, pulling out and thrusting up into her heat again. "I want to hear you scream as you spend. Play with your cunny."

"Wha-what?"

"Put your hands between your legs and play with yourself. I want you to pinch your little clit like I'm pinching your titties. Slip a finger inside your cunt and feel all the cream your body produces when we play. Do it, Aggy. Play with yourself. I want you to feel how your cunt clamps down around your fingers when you come as I feel your ass convulse around my cock."

Never having done anything of the sort, she hesitated, and yet she could feel the small bundle of nerves seeming to pulse harder, as if guiding her to the destination he'd indicated.

"Aggy, it's all right. Obey me. It will pleasure me knowing you are pleasuring yourself. I want you to touch yourself—I love the way you moan when I pinch your clit."

Part of her wanted to say she couldn't, and yet she was suddenly desperate to see what it would be like… the naughtiness of his command having her shaking her head even as she slid her hand down her body and past the curls of her pubic hair. Her fingers were hesitant at first, sliding through her copious moisture, but when they landed on her clit, she gasped and jerked.

"That's my good girl. Now, let's finish playing the game together. Slip a finger deeply in your pussy as you play with your clit."

Her fingers slid over and around her bud and when she felt her body beginning to coil yet again, she moved to slide a finger into her body, blushing hotly as she brushed against his cock that immediately drove back into her bottom. Her clit jumped, her sex spasmed knowing he was in a place that was so private, so intimate, so… so dark. At the next withdrawal and thrust of his cock, she plunged a finger into her cunt, the entry made easy as she'd been dripping from the moment she begun to undress. Matching her movements to his, discovering how to rub her clit while finger-fucking herself, she wasn't positive she was still breathing.

"Wyatt…" she gasped as he filled her again and again.

"Aggy," he said, pulling almost out and, at her soft mew, thrusting hard to bury himself fully.

"Oh… I'm-I'm going to… to come," she gasped. "Please…"

"We'll come together," he said, filling her, pumping his hips and tugging on nipples that remained rock hard.

Suddenly, the coil sprang, her body convulsing, jerking, flooding the finger… her finger invading her sex and clamping around the cock still pounding in her bottom. Screaming his name, she heard her own as he yelled just as loudly as he flooded her with his release.

He continued to thrust several more times before releasing her breasts and gently bending down, guiding her to once more bend over the bed. She felt him pulling from her and only then, her cheeks flushing, did she remove her own finger. Her husband, her wonderful, magnificent husband dropped onto the bed, rolled onto his back, and pulled her onto him. It was another several minutes before either of them spoke.

"Oh, my," Agatha said. "That… that was…"

"Better than sledding?"

She giggled and lifted her head from where she'd had it pressed against his heart. "Well…" A quick swat of a hand capable of practically covering the entirety of her ass had her squeal, "Yes, definitely better!"

He grinned and pulled her up his body until he could kiss her thoroughly, only seeming to remember she was naked when she shivered. Sitting up, he pulled back the quilts and tucked her beneath them.

"We have chores to do," she reminded him even as her eyelids fluttered.

"They can wait," he assured her, stripping out of his clothes and diving beneath the covers.

"Wyatt!" she screeched when he pressed his cold feet against her recently warmed buttocks.

"Yup, do so love hearing my name."

Awakening and smiling as she stretched like a contented kitten, Agatha suddenly realized that she could hear voices. Scrambling out of the bed, she quickly pulled on her clothes. It was one thing to be naked while in bed with her husband, it was quite a different thing to loll about while they had company. Once presentable, she was about to push the partially opened door but paused at hearing Roger's voice.

"I don't know what made me madder. The fact that Teresa still acts as if she did absolutely nothing wrong or that her pa questioned my honor."

Fearing that the conversation would cease the moment the men realized she was awake, she froze, her palm on the door and her head tilted, hearing Roger continue.

"The man actually threatened to get his shotgun and a preacher! Can you believe that!"

"Well, since you aren't bleeding, I'm guessing he didn't?"

"No, but it took some rapid talking. Of course, I can't say I blame him. Half the damn town heard me threaten to tan her hide."

Wyatt chuckled and said, "Since you are obviously still riled up, I'm guessing you didn't follow through?"

"How could I? I mean, hell, I could see the man's finger twitching and all I could think about was that shotgun's trigger. I can't imagine he would have even hesitated if he thought I was gonna lay a hand on his little princess."

"Perhaps if her pa had taken her to task a time or two, she wouldn't have been so quick to dismiss any responsibility for what happened."

"I admit I've had the same thought once or twice since I started courting her. Anytime I've even begun to scold her, she acts like I'm speaking a foreign language."

"There's one language that I guarantee she'd understand," Wyatt offered.

From behind the door, Agatha rolled her eyes. Trust her husband to not only voice but to truly believe that a spanking was the solution for all of a woman's transgressions.

"Do it right, with her understanding you are disciplining her because you truly care about her safety or to help guide her into becoming a better person. I promise she'd learn soon enough that you wouldn't bother if you didn't care for her."

His words had Agatha silently chastising herself for the eye roll. She might not be as eager to voice her belief or admit that he was right, but she had never doubted that while yes, Wyatt spanked her, he did so because he loved her.

Roger's deep sigh pulled her from her thoughts. "I'm not sure Teresa would believe that, Wyatt. All I know is that perhaps it's a good thing she didn't show her face again. If she had, I'm not sure I wouldn't have chanced a bullet just so I could give that gal a lesson she wouldn't forget."

Agatha felt her bottom clench as if recognizing exactly what sort of lesson that would have been. She wasn't the least bit surprised hearing her husband's response.

"You should have done that before you ever took her home. If you had, I guarantee her attitude wouldn't have been so poor."

"Well, that's what I really wanted to talk to you about. How did you, Richard, and James find women who allow you to… well, you know?"

"Lift their skirts, bare their little behinds and spank them soundly?" Wyatt's words, so blatantly offered, had Agatha forgetting she was pretending to still be asleep, and slapping her hand over her mouth when she realized she had gasped quite loudly. Suddenly realizing that her husband's words had sounded far clearer and quite closer than others he'd uttered earlier, she turned to dive back into bed but before she could, she gave a very loud squeal when the door was pulled open.

Flustered, she said the only thing that came to mind. "Wyatt, you scared me!"

"I'm sure I surprised you," he countered, his tone indicating that he wasn't the least bit concerned about his choice of a far different word.

Deciding that it would be best to continue to pretend she'd just awakened, she scolded, "Why didn't you tell me we had company? What must Roger think of our hospitality?" Unable to meet her husband's gaze, she gave him the widest berth she could as she scurried into the living area. "Would you like some coffee, Roger? Better yet, I'm just about to start supper. Why don't you join us?"

"That's not necessary," Roger said, already rising to his feet. "I just came by to thank you for the loan of your dress, even though I should have asked permission first…"

"No, no, don't be silly. Of course you are welcome to whatever we have. How is Teresa?"

Hearing Wyatt chuckle, she made the mistake of glancing towards him, feeling her face heat, knowing that he was very well aware that she'd been eavesdropping.

"I'm glad you asked," Wyatt said. "We were just discussing the fact that she seems to be having a great deal of difficulty accepting any responsibility for today's trouble."

"Oh? Um… perhaps she's just, um, embarrassed?"

"Or, most likely, she knows that such childish behavior, compounded by the refusal to accept any blame, should have earned her a red rear. Wouldn't you agree, sweetheart?" Wyatt asked.

She was about to pretend not to understand when her eyes slid away only to land on the mantle above their fireplace. Seeing the centerpiece that Wyatt had made, she felt guilt run through her. The broken egg halves sitting on either side of a whole egg represented the fact that together, things need not remain broken—not when two people were honest, loving, and cared about their relationship. Praying that her answer wouldn't have Wyatt deciding to give Roger a far more visual demonstration of what he'd recommended, she sighed, understanding that pretending not to be aware of what the men had been discussing was futile.

"I… yes, sir." Turning to Roger, she said, "I apologize for listening to your conversation, Roger, but please don't give up on her. I know you aren't happy with her right now, but… well, if you really care for her, don't be too quick to judge her. She obviously cares for you and it would be a shame if you just walked away. Sometimes it is very hard to admit when you are wrong and to… well, to ask for help."

Roger didn't speak but Wyatt came to her, wrapping his arms around her and giving the top of her head a kiss. "I agree," he said, releasing her after giving her backside a pat. "Women can drive you absolutely crazy, but God knows, life would be incredibly boring without them. No matter how hard it is, no matter how much you might want to give up, I'm telling you… if you feel about Teresa even half as strongly I feel about Agatha, you'll not stop fighting for her until you take your very last breath."

"I don't intend to give up," Roger said. "I'm just not sure how to proceed. I wasn't joshing when I said that she refuses to accept any blame. Not to mention I'm wondering if her pa wouldn't shoot me if I turned her over my knee."

"That is a subject which will require a great deal more discussion. And, I promise, it is also something that requires repeated practice."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Roger said. "I'd better get going. Agatha, I'll get your dress back as soon as I can but I was worried that if I asked for it, Mr. Goldman would have an apoplexy at being reminded of how his daughter left his house wearing one dress, only to return wearing another."

"I'm sure he would have understood," Agatha said, moving to take her apron from its hook and tying the sash around her waist. "Goodness, even he has to know that it was far more important to get Teresa warm than to worry about her being naked." It wasn't until she heard Wyatt chuckle that she felt her face heating. "I mean… I'm sure you didn't… she didn't…"

"Start supper, sweetie," Wyatt suggested as he pulled on his coat. "I've still got some chores to do." He dropped another kiss on top of her head before joining Roger at the door.

After the door closed, she shook her head. It was obvious from the expression on Roger's face that he did indeed care for Teresa. But listening to him talk with Wyatt, she had to wonder if his feelings were strong enough to fight for the young woman. More importantly, did Teresa even want to be the object of his affection? She remembered Roger stating that Teresa had dreams of becoming the town's first schoolteacher, but Agatha couldn't help but wonder if the young woman needed a bit of education herself. She'd spoken the truth when she told Roger that it was sometimes difficult to ask anyone for help. It had taken being miserable for a few months before she'd finally broken down and begged her new husband to help her. It hadn't always been pleasant—heck, sometimes it had been downright painful when she'd earned a harder spanking—but with his love and constant demand for honest communication, their marriage had become not only better, but was what she considered her own slice of heaven on earth.

The occupants of the ranch were more than business partners or friends. They had become a family; one in which every person would do whatever was in their power to help another. Not a single moment went by when Agatha didn't feel safe, protected, respected, and very much loved. And it certainly helped that she lived on the ranch with two other women who had husbands of the same ilk. Sure, she and the other women sometimes complained or argued over a rule or restriction imposed on them by their husbands, but each had learned that the rules were intended to keep them safe. Yes, there were consequences for misbehavior but each woman knew that once atonement was made for a transgression, they were forgiven. Being able to commiserate with one another, the women's bond of friendship grew stronger with every passing day. Maybe that was the secret—knowing that there was always somebody you could talk to about your fears, worries, dreams, or just to ask questions. Perhaps the fact that Teresa's ma had passed a few years earlier was one cause of her attitude. What the poor girl needed was not to be judged but to be offered a hand of friendship, and an ear—or six. Now that Agatha was satisfied she'd come up with a plan, all she needed was to get with Anna and Charity to decide how to put it into action.

As she began to wash the dishes they'd left from the noon meal, Agatha smiled. Having to clean up the kitchen in order to be able to start preparations for supper was just one example of how rules could be bent. Not too long ago, she would have felt guilty and been unable to think of anything but the fact that she'd left a chore undone. Wyatt had taught her that there were times when just having fun or spending time together were more important than a chore. Sure, chores couldn't be left undone for too long but, well, who cared if a dish or two sat waiting while she lay in her husband's arms after making love?

***

It wasn't until three days later that Agatha had a chance to talk to her friends. Matthew had informed the men that he'd spotted what he believed were the tracks of a large elk in the snow when running the fence line. Deciding that fresh meat would be welcome, the men were going out to hunt and the women had gathered at the Wilcox home to spend the day together. After reminding their husbands to be careful and receiving kisses, the three friends waved from the porch until the horses disappeared over a ridge.

"I swear, they are as excited as little boys," Anna said as she gently rocked Johnny in her arms.

Charity giggled as she and Agatha spread a quilt out on the floor in front of the fire. "I suppose they are just excited to be tracking something other than deer. I wonder if elk tastes different than venison?" She handed her eldest daughter, Hope, her doll and Agatha handed the girl a cookie once she'd settled down onto the pallet to play.

"Forget elk, we have something far more important to discuss," Agatha said. "I call a meeting."

"Is everything all right?" Charity asked, turning her attention to her youngest daughter, Grace, and changing her diaper.

"That's what we need to discuss," Agatha said.

"Don't start the clock without me," Anna said, "let me put Johnny down." It took another few minutes before both Johnny and Grace were asleep in Agatha's bed. After refilling their coffee cups and putting the plate of cookies in the middle of the table, Agatha took her chair.

"I guess it's not a real Tick-Tock meeting," Agatha confessed. "I mean, I don't want to talk about me."

"Ah, so Wyatt forgave you for that sledding fib?" Anna asked, her eyes twinkling.

"Let's just say that if spending the better part of the afternoon wrapped in his arms is the price I'll pay for a teensy fib, then I'll gladly pay that fee any time." She paused and then giggled. "Even if my behind was a trifle warmer than the rest of me." Her friends smiled and nodded, each having experience with exactly what Agatha meant.

"Well, if you aren't going to go into more detail than that, who are we going to discuss?" Charity asked.

"Teresa… well, Teresa and Roger."

"Ah, I've been wondering what happened. I saw Roger talking with Richard the other day. They were talking too quietly to hear but both looked rather serious. I wouldn't have thought anything of it except that when they saw me, they both started talking at the same time, as if to throw me off. Of course, the fact that Richard was talking about cows and Roger about horses… needless to say, I had to wonder. What do you know?"

"Just that I'm afraid Roger might have decided that Teresa isn't worth the trouble," Agatha said. She'd just finished giving them a rundown of what she'd heard being discussed when the three were startled by a knock on the door.

"Who could that be?" Anna asked.

"I have no idea," Agatha said, rising from her chair.