Below: Rose & Lyle get into the holiday spirit in Rocky Mountain Romp

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Snaking his right arm around her, he continued to torment her breasts with that hand, while the left traveled slowly downward, exploring the soft island of her belly, the curve of her hips and the sweet, sweet valley between her legs. By the time he reached his destination, her hips were moving restlessly, an undulating dance that stirred his cock until it strained against his trousers.

“What do we have here?” he growled into her ear, stroking her folds with a feather-light touch, and hearing her whimper softly as her body started to quicken. He played her body like a fine instrument, fiddling between her legs, squeezing her breasts, even dipping his head to trace her ear with his tongue. “You ready for me?” he asked when the soft noises she was making became more desperate. His fingers between her legs did a swirl and her hips jerked, begging him.

“Yes, please, Lyle.”

“Hmm, I’m not sure, darling. Perhaps we should just sleep.” His fingers retreated, even as his cock throbbed almost painfully, nestled between her bottom’s fleshy cheeks. With a cry, she grabbed his hand and pressed it to her slippery quim. Keeping his fingers firmly between her legs, she rolled towards him, lips drawing his into a frantic kiss. Her breathy moans called to him, her grip on his wrist tightening as her body still strived towards the fingers strumming her clit. Shifting so his long body lay over hers, Lyle kept one hand between her legs and undid his breeches with the other. His wife writhed before him, her pale body under her thin chemise almost glowing in the darkness.

“Lyle, please.” Hearing her soft cry, he pulled his hand away and replaced it with his cock, sitting right at her entrance. She squirmed, trying to reach for him, and he held her hips down to teach her who would lead. Rose went on begging, even grabbing at his buttocks to pull him closer, and he took her wrists and planted them firmly on either side of her body. “Be still, Rose,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument. His Rose had spent a lifetime controlling men with her looks and body. By controlling the pace of their loving, he made it clear he wouldn’t be one of them. As usual, her body responded to his dominance, her pleading sweet to his ears as her pussy creamed even more around the head of his cock.

“Who rules this body?” he asked, even as his cock pulsed, longing to sink into her sweetness. She moaned, and he leaned over her, holding his body over hers. “I can’t hear you,” he growled, nipping and sucking at her neck, keeping her arms pinned to the mattress so he could torture her without interruption. When he raised his head again, her body was shaking, taut with desire, and her pussy was wetter than a rising river.

“You do,” she sighed. Immediately he rewarded her, sliding his length into her soft folds, biting back a groan as he felt her quiver around his dick. He started to thrust in and out of her sopping quim.

“That’s right, Rose. I do.” His mouth fastened on hers, plundering it with his tongue and swallowing her cries as they both rode over the crest together.

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Christmas is coming, and the Rocky Mountain Brides are hatching a plan to find a wife for the shyest man in town. When a blizzard snows all the couples in together, their mischief is exposed when their matchmaking plot goes horribly wrong. Will the women’s schemes lead to love, or a long, hard discipline session—or both?

Whether playing Cupid or getting bent over their husband’s knee, Esther, Carrie and Rose will have a Christmas romp to remember! Set in the 1860s Wild West, the Rocky Mountain Bride Series follows the lives of mail order brides and the strong frontier men who take them in hand.

 “Great continuation of Rocky Mountain stories”

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