Cotton Blossom

"Mmmm," was all that little Evangeline could muster as he touched her so delicately. Despite clearly being careful, tending to her body with sweet tenderness, he brought her great pleasure. Eva's body jerked and all the new sensations and places that he was touching; places that the young woman really did not know existed, much less felt so sensitive.
Evangeline could feel how moist she was down below, and blushed slightly at that. Her need for him was apparent, almost obvious... and she hoped that he would like that. Her body was the type that needed pleasure rather to the give it; although, with time and practice, she hoped that Wesinaco would show her to make him feel good, too.

Reaching in front of her, Evangeline gripped onto the silk bedsheets, clawing her way onto them. As he touched that most sensitive nub in between her legs, her body jerked a bit, both in surprise and pleasure. It was as though a million little nerve endings concentrated right there, and now he was touching it! "O-Oh," the young woman gasped, rocking her hips a little bit farther into his hand. She knew that he could bring her to great heights and was left wondering how he was going to bring her there. Eva had never touched and been touched, and it was certainly a thrill of a ride.

As his gentle fingers began to circle around her clit, Evangeline's body moved the other way and she pressed back into his chest. His lips were hot against her skin; was it possible for him to have more than two hands? It felt like they were everywhere, on her clit and her bottom, her breasts and her arms. Evangeline sighed and wiggled beside him, imploring him for more. Her mind was so fuzzy she could barely make completely sentences, barely even think straight! All that came out were soft moans, so low and pleasureful, and little whispers of her pleasure. "It... oh-oh," she whimpered, "it... it's good."
 
Her instincts were reacting to him and that's all Wesinaco could ever want. She gasps and moans, even uttering her satisfaction. Now that she has definitely lubricated herself, Wes finds it hard to slow down or even stop. The soft fabric of the bed wrinkles under her strain, causing Wes only to admire how much he is moving her. Before tonight, she was unaware of so many sounds, motions, emotions, and feelings. A rippling tide of them all opening up to her by his fingers. Whether its a kiss, touch, or pull, he is gentle, knowing how scared he was the first time he allowed a woman to moan and touch him. Reveling in such a memory, Wes pushes her to her limits.

Having to be careful not to have her scream too loud, Wes keeps his right hand motionless against her wetness. Knowing only that stopping will make her crave him even more. Shifting his weight, he slinks his arm underneath her body, resting his palm against her stomach. "It is good?" Wes asks, her moist center taunting him to no end. When he speaks, he growls, having to use upmost self control to not force himself upon her. Well, he assumes by the way she is reacting that she will willingly let him but that's not how Tim would see it. All Tim would feel on his wedding night, if he lasts that long, would be her already popped cherry. Wes would hang for what he had done. Living would be so much sweeter, having them sneak their way around her husband and still find this heavenly bliss.

"I want you to do yourself a favor," Wes whispers, his hips crashing against her, leaving his weight there. "If you're comfortable, that is." swallowing, he assumes she will follow his instructions but at the same time, the Cheyenne is hesitant. "You see, I don't want you to be afraid of me... will you be a good Evangeline and listen to what I need you to do? Only then will you understand completely." Bending over her, he grazes his teeth along her neck, following with soft kisses, lost in his passion for her. His fingers may have slowed down but they still make their lazy circles, hearing the small crackle of her satisfaction below. Never before, he believes, has a woman been so ready and willing. Her juices nearly drowning his hand as he taunts her lower lips with a slip of his fingers over her entrance.
 
His voice was a haze, a little fuzzy against the charged air in the room and her soft moans. It took Evangeline a moment to realize that he was actually speaking to her, and her eyes opened a little farther. Despite the fact that he had slowed his hands a bit, she was still in sweet agony - and now her body was practically begging him for more, like torture. Her slender hips bucked up into his hand, encouraging him. It was absolutely wonderful, the feel of his fingers teasing and touching her. Evangeline no longer felt embarassed on afraid; how could she when he was so doting on her, so loving and caring? Most men would have gladly forced themselves onto a young woman so willing, much less a virgin, but Wes was greater than that... so much greater.

Evangeline bit her lip and craned her head to look at him. His green eyes were deep, endless pools of wanting and lust. The young woman felt bad that she could not bring him pleasure, but imagined that would come later, when Tim had broken her and Wes could have his way. The thought of Tim being this close made her stomach churn, but Eva was at least glad that she had some sort of refuge with the Cheyenne male.

"I... I can, t-try," she whispered, entirely unsure of what Wes was going to ask of her. She had never touched herself, much less a man, and her stomach fluttered in anticipation. She wondered if Wesinaco could feel her pounding heart the same way he could feel her burning wetness. Did he like that? From his movements, she supposed so... as though her body was preparing itself for him, even if they did have limits. "I can try," she repeated breathlessly.
 
"I know I have pulled you out of a wondrous place, believe me, I do." Carefully taking his hand from under her, he removes his wet fingers from her pleasure center. Crawling on top of her again, he takes a long moment to stare into her pools. "You have just felt so much in such a small amount of time. You shall return. Soon you will return. Believe me, you will. I'll make it my priority to take you -all- the way until you have no choice but to scream at my work into your pillow. I have learned so much about your form and the way you react to me. Gods know that I want to show you -all- of what I can do but we must be patient. You have allowed me to roam and fiddle with you. Don't you think it's only fair that you learn how I work? How a man works?"

Leaning down, he kisses her cheeks, nuzzling himself between her hips. Even though the linen of his pants, he can feel her soaking against his manhood. "I don't want you uncomfortable. I want you to understand." Sucking in a breath, he brings himself up and off of her. Still kneeling before her, he motions for her to sit up. When she slowly picks herself from the bed, his hands slip down her bare sides, his throbbing growing worse. "If at any point you feel strange, tell me. Don't hold it in. I want you to understand." And there he says it again, wanting her to know what a man looks and feels like.

He finally rests on her wrists, pulling her limp arms in the direction of his lower abdomen. Pushing her fingers up against him, he flexes, making sure she can feel what power he holds beneath the thin layer of skin. There, his skin is as smooth as a riverstone and has hard as one too. Every inch of him tenses, pressing his hot palms against her even hotter hands. If she hasn't resisted yet or tried to pull away, Wes pushes her hands to his sewed button, silently pleading with her to open himself up for her and her only. "Do you want to know what makes a man truly a man?" Wes whispers, groaning as he slowly lets go of her hands, letting her explore the rest on her own.

"Do what you will, my dear Eva." his head moves up to look above her, the chiseled perfection of his jaw outlined in the moonlight. The anticipation kills him, wanting to feel her small hand, or hands - he shutters at the thought - against him. Only then will she find true comfort in him as a whole for she knows every secret he has to hold.
 
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Her breathing laboured, and Evangeline's heart thumped against her eardrums, making it almost hard for the young woman to hear what he was saying. She could gather enough from his actions, however, his hands taking her own and pressing them against his hardened flesh. Eva had felt Wes's body before, her fingers tracing his chiseled muscles when they had been lost in the woods together. This time was entirely different though - his skin was hotter, and his skin was taut in anticipation. The lust nearly radiated from his skin, making Evangeline shiver a bit.

Naturally, Evangeline was quite hesitant. Wes let go of her hands and allowed her to touch what and where she wanted to. At first, she merely froze - his body was a mystery to her, and even if he was exposed to her, so was still nervous to uncover to the rest of him.
Her fingertips gingerly toyed with the button of his cotton pants, not knowing the treasure that laid beneath but imagined it. She had heard her friends gossip back home, about the wonders of the male anatomy, so strong and hard. Evangeline could see that, and wondered how deep those hard muscles develed below his undergarments. Her fingers hesitated on the button, afraid to open it and reveal himself to her. What makes a man. Evangeline did not know a man - not one that was like Wes, anyways... so strong and powerful, muscles powerfully roped and dominance in his every action.
Evangeline did not fear him or his body, she was merely nervous.

"I... I...," she whispered, meeting his gaze. She could see the pure lust in his eyes and wished she knew how to make him feel good, too. Did he not understand that she had never seen a man before like this, much less touched him?
Recoiling one of her hands, the other remaining against his hip, Evangeline brought it to her chest and bit her lip, "I... I'm not sure, W-Wes."
 
When she doesn't move her hands from his button, Wes can almost swear that she will give in to his wishes. Closing his eyes, he inhales again. His chest faithfully moves up and down slowly. Then she denies him such satisfaction. If it were any other girl, Wes would coax her and eventually break her down so that he gets what he wants. That warm face of her's presses up against him, his manhood attempting to push through the fabric. Wes could spit fire. He has been told that much. His anger is like a volcano though. Buried deep beneath layers and layers of thick crust. Yet, his face flinches for only a moment, an angry snarl greeting only the ceiling and the smooth blue paint with blotched clouds that lies up there.

"You are a flower, Evangeline, and therefore cannot be asked to bloom. You are what you make yourself and I respect you greatly for -knowing- your limits." Not drawing from her, he collapses his arms over her shoulders. Kneeling back on the bed, his heels lick his butt, still holding Eva dearly in his grasp. "In time you'll be sure. When that moment comes you'll be guided by your own guardian. The thing you trust most dearly. Your human instincts." scoffing just a little, he recollects how many times he has talked about the rawness of human existence. "That line must be getting old, hm?" His hands come up to her jaw, pulling her from his chest so that he may look into her bright blue eyes. The best part about it is that she alone is staring right back at him with much of the same caring gaze.

"Think nothing of it. Only think of what gift I have given you tonight. The door that I have only just cracked ajar and now you must fling open with all your might. I am your servant, Eva, for I will always be below you. Rank or class. Yeah." swallowing, his face looking just a bit too concerned, "So do with me what you will." Being with white men for too long, he has learned to accept punishment. Doubting Eva, he still offers himself freely. Wes has asked too much. Will he always be asking too much of this lovely girl?
 
As soon as she rejected touching him, Evangeline regretted it. She could see the need and the anger in his eyes, and for a mere moment, she flinched, an instinct really. She knew that Wes would never hurt her - but any other man rejected might have. She clung against his strong shoulders, wondering how upset he might be because she didn't know what to do. Perhaps she was right when she suspected he thought of her; did he think she had touched and been touched before, that she had experience with pleasuring a man?

"I do not believe you are below me," she whispered, her blue eyes bright and saddened looking. She wondered if he was angry with her for rejecting his own desires and not wanting to yield to them. It was a scary prospect; to touch a man in such sensitive and dangerous places.

"Please do not be angry with me," Evangeline whimpered, clinging to him. Had she ruined what they had? Eva did not know what to make of his reaction or their relationship now... would he still care for her, want her to feel good? Did he still feel that connection even once she had refused to give him the one thing that his body needed most? Eva almost felt selfish, taking not but giving... something it seemed that the whites were fond. Her head dipped down, and she blinked away her sadness, hoping he wouldn't see her despair. "Please... do-don't... be mad at me."
 
He alone has changed the mood of the room. He alone craved more, to feel as she feels and to breathe as she breathes. Rugged, sexy, and in a whirl of want or need. Swearing to himself when he first started to touch her that it -would- be all about her. Tonight, since she is so young, would have been better spent completing her introductory into this beautiful new world. Instead, he has a girl clinging onto his flesh as if it were her very last lifeline. On top of that heavy weight comes the thought that Eva believes him angry at her. His green eyes rest on her locks in the moonlight. How can I be mad at such a virgin? Wes alone asks himself, knowing the answer is that he can't. It's her first experience. He asked too much.

It's true that she has forbade him from the stimulating pleasures yet it should be this way. The Cheyenne giving himself to the white folk and they give him nothing in return. Oh but Wes doesn't want to make it personal between his people and her people. They already hate one another so what will come of him hating Evangeline? She, Wes bends down and twists his neck so that he may look at her blinking hues. "No, my dear Evangeline, I am not angry at you. If anything, you should be angry with me for I have asked too much." rubbing his hand over her cheek, he knows the only way to get past this bump is to forgive her. His time will come where he can sin and swim in the spoils she will offer him.

"I was hasty in my," he looks down at himself, adjusting his pants with a free hand. "My... emotions but now they're clear. I assure you there is no trace of anger."
 
Evangeline frowned lightly, twisting her wrist so that she could cup his face. His skin was hot and rough underneath her gentle tendering and smooth skin. Of goodness, she wished more than anything to be able to give him the wonders that he have gifted her. Evangeline figured that they would come with time... and some instruction, of course. The thing that frightened Eva the most was the fact that he had given her free reign over his body; she hadn't known how to unbutton his pants, much less how to touch and pleasure him.

She was at least relieved that he was not angry at her... she could see in his eyes that he was calming himself, those green pools going from a deep emerald to a grassy green, the colour she was so fond of. "I'm really sorry," she whimpered, burying her face into his shoulder and sighing softly. Her breath flowed along his skin, causing goosebumps to rise and make a trail for her fingertips to travel along. Despite being nervous and inexperienced, Evangeline loved his body and enjoyed his reactions. She was amazed at the different sounds he made, the way that his muscles flexed when she touched certain parts of his solid form.

Evangeline took a long moment to stroke his strong shoulder blades and smooth back, her fingers dancing along the skin.
She kissed his mouth a few times, and then his jaw, "I... I want-want you to feel... good, too. But... I... I don't know how... what to do. I don't... I don't understand it." Didn't understand her body and his, their reactions, how she was feeling... how to touch and made him feel pleasure, too. Her cheeks flushed pink.
 
It was reassurance that helps Wes gain his footing again. Her word against his that she -does- want this. Even if she didn't utter a word, Wes would have understood with the music from her fingers. Magic fingers. Every muscle she touches spasms ever so gently as if sighing in relief to have her weight against him. Her rosy lips press up against his and he closes his eyes, remembering the wiggling of her body underneath him as he touched her. Curving into a smile, Wes restrains his tongue from slipping into her mouth, letting their lips smack and whatever breath he has left to roll over her face.

"Do not cause yourself worry, Evangeline. One day you can give back to me what I have given you." grinning, he chuckles against her as she pecks at his jawline. "Are you content with what I have shown you?" Pulling her down with him, he lies on his back, allowing her form to slip over him if she is so inclined. "Now, just relax. What is to come will take great energy." smiling cooly, Wes runs his hands over her back. Tracing her spine with his fingers, each vertebra new and different from the rest. Eventually, he hits the last of her bone, running his palm against the sloping curve of her lower backside. "Just promise me that you'll," squeezing her, his hand easily fanning over her area, "still be interested when you're ready."

What he told her earlier in the night, all that junk about their impossibilities of being together, have now challenged Wes. Most white men say that it's in a man's blood to take up such lofty heights. Wes will, no matter what, have Eva be his. "I couldn't live knowing that you are betrothed to such slime. Men have affairs with married woman all the time. What makes me so different." his heart beats faster in his chest as the plan unfolds before his minds eye. "We can spoil ourselves when Tim is away on business or just passed out drunk somewhere. Perhaps you'll start to take more walks..." kissing her earlobe, he whispers, "I hear the forest can be quite the spot to make the height of passionate love. Being one with nature completely. It's true we'll have to be secretive but that makes it more fun. Sneaking around. Taking our moments when we have them. Would you like that, Evangeline?"

Swallowing, Wes anticipates her answer, his chest bellowing out hot air. In all his excitement, a picture of them paints itself in his head. Any thoughts of detention are lost. It's taken her naked form for him to start thinking this way. Biting his lip, Wes pushes his face against her neck, not wishing for her to see his worry. What if all these feelings are gone with the morning sunshine on the night we finally unlock our full potentials together? Wes can't think of it. His heart rejecting her, breaking the girls heart, once his bodily needs have been satisfied.
 
Evangeline's feelings for Wes ran deep; had she not been betrothed to Tim, she might have really considered marrying the man and living somewhere in the woods. Despite barely knowing him she trusted him, beliving that he would bring no harm to her. He had so many opportunities to dominate and ruin her... but not once had he laid an ill hand on her... not even when he had grown the slightest bit angry, or upset. Eva imagined he would make a good husband and even father, teaching his children the ways of the wind and the beauty of nature. Evangeline was saddened that her babies would never know such wonders; not from their father, at least.

His words of their secret times together gave her hope, at least. Evangeline was glad that she would have refuge with him, and only prayed that his devotion to her would last even when Tim had taken her and beat her. The thought of it all made her shiver, and she snuggled against his chest, running her hand along his smooth muscles and firm torso. She adorned what parts of his body she was comfortable with, fingers dipping into the cracks and crevices. She was rather amazed at his muscular physique, each muscle so perfectly sculpted and protruding, his anatomy obvious to the naked eye.

"That sounds... very nice," she admitted sheepishly, kissing his shoulder and then his jaw. When he craned his neck towards her, she kissed his mouth, enjoying the taste of him on her lips. She sighed against his mouth, wishing more than anything that he could just take her away.
In the beginning that had been her dream, to escape this nightmare and run away. However, her common sense had kicked in since then... and now Evangeline was merely going to take what she could get. If it meant sneaking away with him at night, she would gladly take it.

"What... what about," she swallowed, gazing up at him in the darkness, "how long will we be able to keep this up, though? What happens... when I have children, or when Timothy decides he wants to build us a home?" She frowned at the thought of being left alone with that horrid man, no refuge in the Cheyenne she had grown so fond of.
 
"I'm glad you think so," Wes starts, his own digits crossing over hers as he mirrors her pattern across his form. Not wanting to answer her right away, Wes chooses to keep silent once her mind pushes her to reveal the reality of the situation. Bringing them so close and in such bliss of one another could be a mixture for utter chaos. Once she has children, they'll need her care. Wes assumes that Tim will grow tired and dip himself even further into the bottle once his children start to come to light. They'll scream, requiring love and care. His brother, if he dare call Tim that, will only dump her children into her hands. If Wes is seen within ten yards of this new home Tim constructs, his step-brother will happily shoot him on sight. A story will be printed about some cheyenne man trying to murder him and his family.

"We will have to find some sort of ..." he sighs, all hope draining from him. "The truth is once you have children, it'll be nearly impossible for us to be as careful. A baby, one with your bright blue eyes and radiant smile, will need all the love you have to offer. Questions will be asked if you aren't there to care for your child when he or she screams in the middle of the night." letting go of her a while ago, Wes rubs his hands over his face. Turmoil strikes his body with a hard mallet. "The question is... could you live wondering where our passions will take us? Or would it be easier not to look back at every heart throbbing moment and feel as though a knife has settled into your gut? To yearn what was or to desire what never could be...."
 
Hot tears began to fall down Eva's face once again; she felt awful for crying so much, but her emotions were a mess. She was caught in between what she really wanted - Wes, of course - and what her obligation was to her new husband. More than anything she wished that she would not have to face that man ever again, and be able to live the life she had always dreamed of. Every woman, including herself, imagined living with a man she truly loved, enjoying his company and bringing many beautiful children into the world. Bethany and Melinda had been lucky; despite being set up with their husbands, they were kindly treated and overall happy couples. It seemed as though Evangeline got the short stray and now had to face her demon of a husband. She knew that time and marriage would only make him worse.

Rolling onto her side, Eva wiped at her tears and sniffled a bit. She could see the agony in Wes's eyes with the knowledge that what they had would eventually come to an end.
Tears falling down her face, Evangeline reached out and stroked his bicep, her touch so gentle and weak. "I do not want to look back and regret my entire life, when Tim and I are old and grey, and I hate his guts." She sighed and closed her eyes, causing more tears to fall, "I want at least something to be thankful for, and I imagine that it could be you... and of course my children."

Pulling at the sheet, Evangeline grabbed it and placed it over both of them. She was still throbbing between her thighs and drew them together, trying to ignore it. She continued to touch his arm, so delicately and careful. "I know truly what my heart wants, but... I realize... it's surely something I cannot have. But I suppose I will take what I can get, and not think too much of the future." Eva knew that Timothy was going to put her with child rather quickly, he was quite eager to start what he seemed to think as an empire and family business. Evangeline clutched at her stomach and closed her eyes again, crying softly, "why... why does God do this to me? Why is he so cruel?"
 
As much as Wes tries to speedily wipe her tears from her eyes, they fall too fast. Her speech starts to speed up and he can hear her nose starting to stuff. As a result, she sniffles and blabbers but Wes doesn't mind. Eventually stopping his crusade to clear her face up, Wes speaks to her calmly as if trying to sing a lullaby to her ear only. "It's true that when the day comes to an end, the sun shall set in the westerly direction. But never fear for a new sun shall rise in the east. What they need is balance. You'll learn to survive Tim. You have the prettiest and strongest will that I have ever seen stampede through a woman. Just focus on the here and now."

"Children have been known to make --" she starts to sob again and Wes immediately starts to rub her back, trying to build some comfort into her shuttering breaths. His attuned ears pick up movement in the next room over. The sounds of springs releasing a body from their hold, the worried muffling of Melinda as she quarrels quickly with her husband. He wants her to come back to bed but she says something about having to check on her. "Eva, shhh!" his hand comes over her mouth gently, enforcing how serious he is this time. His breath is short and firm, meaning business. Footsteps pitter patter over to her door and a soft knock erupts across the wood.

Wes' eyes grow wide, looking back to Eva, his heart caught in his throat. Knowing Melinda's next move, Wes points to his chest and to the window. Leaning in, he gives her one last kiss on the lips, a memory to keep her warm at night. Another soft knock comes to the door.

"Evangeline, are you alright? Sweetheart, answer me." by the time the third set of knocks come rapping on the door, Wes is sitting on the windowsill. Taking one last glance at her, he waves before slipping completely out of sight. Tip toeing past the other rooms, he nearly crawls on his stomach to not be detected. The last thing he wants is for someone to shout. Melinda, never being one for patience, places her hand on the doorknob. At any second, she turns it and enters the room. "Darling? Are you crying?" her voice sounds heavy with sleep, yet she has the heart to get up and out of her bed to comfort this lost soul.
 
One moment he was there, his warmth and breath so close against her, and then he was gone. As Melinda entered the room Evangeline clung to the blankets he had been sitting on, his scent still clinging them, although just slightly. Evangeline brought the blankets up across her naked form, hoping that Melinda would not ask any questions. The young woman, several years Eva's senior, smiles softly and sits on the edge of the bed. She was a kind and gentle soul, and since she had known the family she had taken quite a liking to Melinda. She was like the sister she never had, always doting and kind, nearly motherly. Evangeline was surprised they didn't have any children yet.

Melinda smiled softly and stroked Eva's hair from her brow, then frowning when she realized her laboured breathing and tear-stained cheeks.
"Are you alright?" she asked quietly, looking over what she could see of the young woman, inspecting her for any sort of further abuse. Melinda was disheartened that she could not protect Evangeline from her husband's fists, and angry at her husband (his brother) for not intervening. It seemed as though they all thought it was just their problem to figure out, and eventually Eva would learn to cope. Still, Melinda hated see her with a bruised and beaten face, knowing it would not be the last time.

"What's wrong?" she asked again.
Evangeline rubbed at her eyes and looked up at the woman, her black hair curly about her face, wild in curls. Her lower lip began to quiver, "I... I am afraid." Surely it wasn't a lie; she had repeated it several times over to Wes that night, and the fear clenched at her heart.
"Of what?" Of course, Melinda knew the answer.
Evangeline clutched the sheets close to her breasts, "T-Tim... I... I really... I do, I do not like him, Melinda.... he... he is so... so awful... full of hatred and anger, no love or compassion. How am I going to survive marrying him?" It was daunting, to spend the rest of her days with such a corrupt soul.
 
Having to turn his back on Eva turns out to be very, very tough. Throughout his soft, ninja-like, footsteps on the roof, he can't help but turn back and hear the whispers between the two girls. At least his heart can rest, knowing that Eva is safe and it hadn't been Tim knocking down the door in a drunken rage. Coming to his room, more like a closet, Arathi perks his ears up and comes to greet Wes at the window. Placing his finger to his lip, Wes signals his companion that no yipping can occur. The dog licks Wes' fingers, tasting something... different. Sniffing, he perks up ever so slightly as if questioning his master why he smells of that girl who played catch with him a few days prior.

"Don't worry about it, boy, let's just get to bed." squeezing through his window, Wes drops face first onto the sack of lumps he calls his mattress. Sitting and laying with Eva had been but a dream. At least he hopes not. Still, her mattress compared to his is relating the softest of clouds to the hardest of ground. Thinking he wouldn't be able to sleep, his mind moves to his throbbing member, still unsatisfied from their night of sex-less bliss. In retrospect, Wes doesn't think his night was all a failure for he has sorted through his feelings faster than he thought possible. Still, tomorrow troubles him for how Evangeline will feel. Only with actions will Wes know if she truly means her words. White men throw around words all the time but Eva is an extraordinary one. His small gem.
 
Melinda's eyes saddened, her heart truly hurting for the young woman. She had been fortunate to marry a man that both respected and loved her; he was a quiet man, but kind and good to her. She had always wondered what had spoiled Timothy, the rotten apple in the batch... after all, their father had been a kind man and seemed to raise them right. Melinda just felt awful that a sweet girl like Evangeline was stuck with him. She was always dreading the day he would find a wife and had been hoping for someone that would either stand up to him or be unphased by his antics. Unfortunately, that was not Evangeline, and she was breaking down because of it. Going from a peaceful cotton farm to this hell of a marriage had torn her apart.

The worst part was that no one could do anything about it. The dowry had been paid, and the wedding was being planned for the following month. Soon, maybe in a year or two, they'd move out and Evangeline would be on her own. The thought made Melinda's heart clench.

She stroked Evangeline's bare back, not caring about her nakedness. She was hot to the touch and perhaps was just warm in her bed clothing.
"Be strong, sweetheart," Melinda whispered, kissing her hair again and again. She smelled like musk and woods, but the young woman attributed it to simply being in the woods with Wes.
The thought of that man brought her great sadness- Wes seemed to treat her well, saved her, and he was illy treated. She wished that poor Eva had ended up with a man like him, strong and able to care for her, protect, but also kind hearted and sweet.

After reassuring the young woman a bit more, Melinda turned a now drowsy Evangeline into her bed, kissing her forehead like a mother would. She made sure that the door was locked behind her, not wanting Tim to grow angry if he knew that someone had intruded. She slipped down into her own bed soon after, happy to be in her husband's comforting and careful embrace. She only wished that poor Eva could have the same.
 
Tim, waking up on the floor again for what seems to be the third night in a row, stares at the leg of his bed. The blurry distorted image coming into view the more he blinks. Rubbing his eyes, he pushes the empty bottle of whiskey out of his range, hearing the clinking rolls of the cylinder. The clinking only makes him angry, slamming his fist onto the floor. Clenching his jaw, Timothy gathers up the strength to stand up. Noticing the time is well into the hour of brunch, his stomach growls. Along with that, his head feels as if he were dangling from a rope by his ankle, spinning as fast as it desires. "Oh dear me," he mutters, throwing on a blue pair of pants, wiping the dirt off of his knees. Draping a loose white shirt over his head, he ruffles his dirty blonde hair before moving downstairs to expect to see the family eating or out on the porch.

Instead, he finds that the two married brothers have taken their wives into town. Or so the maid says. Quickly, Tim's mind turns to Wesinaco, his "should be dead" step-brother. Not even staying to hear if he has left or not, Tim bounds up the staircase in a ghastly manner. Lumbering over himself as he skips two or three steps at a time. All he can think about his that scum creeping around his wife. Trampling down the hallway, he swings open Wes' door to find no one there. Huffing in a blind rage, he throws his hands up in the air, cursing Wes as loud as he damn well pleases. What if he is fucking my wife? Comes a stray thought, knowing that all redskins are manipulative suckers that feed on good and innocent girls such as his Evangeline.

Nearly kicking the door down, Tim opens up the door, letting it slam on its hinges. His anger, however, is quickly depleted, turning his reddening face white. For he has seen the crescent shape of her perfectly bare ass. Licking his lips, Tim eagerly closes the door behind him. Going so far to as turn around and make sure it doesn't slam, Tim pushes his back against it. If she could see those gray eyes of his, she would see an unfriendly tornado of desire to have himself in her. Oh he can almost smell her sex from here. It excites him, perhaps too much for he doesn't even think of morals. He should deflower her on their wedding night yet, right now she is ever so taunting.

You little whore... Is all he can think of. Stepping closer to her bed, his hand rummaging deep within his blue pants. "Evangeline?" He calls as soft as a bear growls, wanting more than anything to claim her. Questioning her reasons for laying in bed naked will come later - right now, he just makes himself ready for her as she lies there motionless. Ever so subtly taunting him, her curves screaming out for him to fuck her. Yes, that's what he will do. Fuck her like the whore she is.
 
Evangeline nestled comfortably in the covers, pleasant dreams surprisingly filling her mind. She imagined innocent little half-Indian babies, so sweet and pure, listening to the call of the wild with their father and coming in for a hearty lunch when they were finished. She lived in pure bliss, tending to their large family by day and making sweet love to Wes by night. Never had she had such a dream before... where her desires ran free, a man ravaging her body for all that it was worth. She twisted and curled against her sheets, wondering if he could make her feel as she had dreamed. He already had, though she knew there was plenty where that came from.

When the young woman felt a hand against her fair skin, curving along her bottom and up against her hips, Evangeline moaned softly. Her mind immediately thought it was Wes, though she had not fallen asleep in his arms. After what he had done to her though, her mind naturally went to come. She smiled a bit, and groggily blinked her eyes awake.
They were bleary at first, and she couldn't make out the figure at her bedside. Evangeline blinked again, twice, three times... and then her eyes widened, realizing that the man before her was not who she had expected.

Timothy looked extremely hung over, big bags like bruises hanging underneath his eyes. His shirt was disheveled, and his pants were loose around her waist. Immediately Evangeline sat up in the bed, and upon realizing her nakedness, she began to clamber for the silken bedsheets. They still smelled of her and Wes's sweet moment, and she prayed to God that Tim would not be able to pick up on it.

"T-Tim?" she whispered softly, blue eyes as wide as saucers, afraid and naive. There was something in his eyes that was disconcerting; not a drunken rage but a raw desire, so powerful he seemed to be losing control. Eva began to clamber for her clothing, "what... what are you.... are you do-doing in here?"
 
Pushing his dirty locks from his face, all he can do is grin. Watching her so swiftly dash for some clothing, his lazy eyes are quick to target her wrists. Dirty and gambling fingers wrapped tightly around his already hardening member, his fist seen from beneath the cloth. But, as quickly as she may have seen what he may have been trying to get out of his pants, he springs into action. As if he were an airplane, he dives at her with two free hands. Not as large as Wes', Tim still has an advantage over poor Evangeline. Not caring if any of the servants hear, he shoves her onto the bed as she tries to sit up. The springs, in response, creak.

His bloodshot eyes stare at her as if he were lucifer himself coming to take her pureness right out from under her. There, of course, would be resistance. Slapping her hands back, she tries and resist. Quickly, he shouts at her, "Submit! I am your husband-to-be and your master. You will obey!" Bringing his backhand right across her face when she tries yet again to move without his permission, Tim utters what he will do to her underneath his breath. She is asking for it, laying in bed naked. Revealing her curves to him in such a way that he has to reprimand her for turning him on so very hard.

"Do you understand?" She tries to speak yet his hands are clamped around her neck, gently squeezing. His forming beer belly crashes down on her ample stomach, the fabric of his shirt causing her skin to itch. Not even bothering to take his clothes off, Tim is way too far into his own twisted world to care. Yanking his belt off, he throws the leather across the room in his daze of excitement. "I'll teach you to taunt me in such a way... give you a nice little lesson you whore."

Revealing himself above her stomach, Tim quickly pins her down to the bed. "You know what you're going to do for me, my lovely little princess?" grabbing her jaw, he grips down tightly before turning her head to the side. Not even he in his sobering rage wants to see his masterpiece from the evening earlier. "You're going to -suck- my beautiful cock," when she whimpers, he only shoves her head to the side of the pillows. "Understand?" Those eyes of his mean business for he doesn't even warn her of what he might do if she tries and hurt him while he is pleasuring himself until his whims are satisfied.
 
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