Wild Fire (Book II)

Pleasure From Pain

Warning* Smut ahead

     It had been nearly two weeks since Emma had lay broken in Dutch's arms at the clinic. She was in and out of consciousness again. The trauma of her awakening slamming her back into her minds safe cocoon.

     Dutch had resorted back to his tender feeding of her with Miss Grimshaw changing her and taking care of her everyday needs. He felt the pattern of her far away nearness would drive him mad. He wanted to touch her, hold her. He wanted to taste her mouth beneath his tongue and press his warm hands against her. Sweet Jesus did he want to feel her skin under his fingertips. He wanted....he wanted to love her.

     But as he sat again during the blanketing night in the familiar red union suit, he was still afraid. The traveling thoughts of how her crashing fear of him caused her last terrible ordeal, pained him to the core. The very last thing on this Earth Dutch ever wanted to cause the girl, was any form of pain and that is exactly what he did. He knew the color of her eyes only because of their wide scared look at him. He wanted to see those eyes differently. He wanted those deep blue orbs to be beneath him, dilated, half lidded and eventually closed under the pleasure he knew he could bring her. The thought of it both pleased and angered him.

     He scooted the wooden chair closer to where she lay. He had made it a habit of circling her golden ringlets around his finger and twirling and untwirling them until her hair spilled across her cheek in tight little funnels of sunshine. He did this now as he thought. Springing the yellow strands as he watched the deep rise and fall of her chest while she slept, in her seemingly unending slumber.

     Dutch glanced at the tent flap that had since been mended following Arthur's harsh repour of the thing. It was pulled shut and bound, blocking out the rest of the world again. Just the way Dutch liked it. The idea struck him then that it had been two weeks. Two whole weeks since the incident.

     He looked back down at the girl that curled under his warm bear pelt spread atop her. The doctor had said it would take at least two weeks for her to heal. Didn't he? And the inside of her had had longer than that. How long had she been here now? Two months maybe? Perhaps more?

     She was tiny from so little food, but her skin was pink and healthy. Her long blonde hair rested in spirals on her head again, all the mats pulled free by Miss Grimshaw who brushed them away each day gently. Aside from being so small she appeared almost well.

     He looked down towards her feet. One little foot poked naked from beneath the blanket, pudgy toes peeking up at him. He wondered about the stitches. Were they healed? Could he? Should he check to see? The curiosity bit at him. He had to know.

     He stood, quietly peeling back the blanket from the bottom of her ankle up to her waist. She didn't stir. He pulled back the bottom ruffle of her gown and raised it above her waist. Again she never moved. As carefully as he could, he positioned himself at the foot of the cot and looped his fingers beneath her undergarments pulling them down and off her smooth legs. She was completely exposed to him now, and Dutch could feel that familiar stir below his hips as the length of him pulsed to life.

     He stood for a moment, taking the lamp, and setting it behind him so he could see all of her clearly. The warm light shone down on her, milking her in a buttery glow. Dutch could feel his mouth begin to water. Delicately, he slid his palms upward shifting her hips so that she lay on her back facing him. With the softest of touches, he traced a lone finger down her inner thigh and to the warm folds he trained his eyes on. He took his fingertip and pulled back the left side of her soft closed sex and looked for the stiches he knew to be there. They were gone.