Set Fire to the Rain
This fanfiction is intended for mature readers due to the vivid depiction of a consensual adult relationship. The setting is First Season, post-The Preacher. Any historical, medical, psychological, geographical, agricultural, biological, financial or scientific errors in this story are completely the fault of the author as I am an expert at nothing at all save happy endings.
Chapter 27: The Height My Soul Can Reach
Sleep remained elusive for the lovely young woman reclining upon the chaise lounge by her bedroom window. She wore only a loosely flowing, gossamer white nightgown edged in satin ribbon, and any man fortuitous enough to catch a glimpse of her at this moment in time might be forgiven if he mistook her for that most enchanting of goddesses, Aphrodite, who sprang from the sea fully grown, goddess of love, beauty, and desire. Her abundant red hair was twisted into a thick, ropey braid over one shoulder lightly sanded with freckles, bare where her aunt Océane's nightdress refused to stay up on pale, silken skin the color of milky sea foam.
Kitty Russell gazed outside at the bewitching slice of shimmering moon, absently tracing smooth patterns on the windowsill with her restless fingers. She listened to the ancient, comforting chorus sung by frogs down at the Arkansas, while her thoughts mostly dwelled on her handsome young lawman and the ache she felt inside when they'd been forced to say good night in the parlor before bed.
While she was extremely grateful that Chester was here, helping her make repairs at the ranch, he also made things considerably more difficult for the two young lovers. Matt had promised to come visit her in her bedroom again, but he'd been unable to keep that promise as he and Chester had been so busy with mending fences and barns. And at night, Chester slept on the settee in the parlor, or even on the floor, when he said his bones ached from sleeping so cramped up. Matt couldn't very well slip inside her room at night with Chester right there, ever watchful.
Kitty felt badly that she'd been unable to help with the ranch reparations herself, and when she'd tried to join them one day, it'd set off a strident male chorus of displeasure, all of them claiming she was still not entirely well yet. Doc swore up and down he wouldn't be held accountable if she had a complete and total relapse, and that she was to get back into the house and rest right this very minute.
She'd pouted a little, but she'd gone. She wouldn't have been a whole lot of use to them anyway. Kitty couldn't even hammer a nail in straight. So she'd puttered in the kitchen with Isom, helping to fix dinner, until even he shooed her off, claiming she was looking plumb peaked again and needed to lie down for a spell. Sometimes she wondered if she'd ever be completely well again.
Kitty looked around her pretty bedroom, cast in inky nighttime shadows, wondering not for the first time if this had been Oceane's sanctuary in her lifetime. She hugged herself as she thought of all the things she had to thank her aunt for. It had been she who had made the ranch repairs possible. Apparently Océane's rainy day savings had been wisely invested in the booming Orleans Western Railroad. Virgil confirmed that the small company had since been bought out by a much larger one a few years ago, but the stocks were still good, and she'd been able to sell them for the much needed funds for building supplies.
Kitty's dear friends were doing all the work, even Virgil, whom she'd come to understand had a keen interest in the place. He'd assured her that he'd always admired the ranch and wanted very much to buy it from her, and to her very great relief, fully intended to keep on Isom and even Big Sam the faithful yellow lab. Kitty couldn't help but wonder where Virgil Ware was getting his money—railroad work and a sheriff's pay weren't quite commensurate with purchasing a ranch outright, but she didn't want to pry. She was just awful curious about the quiet-spoken young man's past was all.
Suddenly, she heard her door creak the tiniest bit and she eagerly turned her head to see Matt tiptoeing in on stocking feet, dressed only in his union suit and pants. She put her hand over her mouth to contain the exclamation of surprise that threatened to burst out, her eyes twinkling happily. Kitty stretched out her arms to Matt as he slipped noiselessly across the floor and pulled him down on the chaise opposite her.
"I didn't wake you, then?" he asked under his breath.
"No, I couldn't sleep at all!" Squeezing his hands, she pulled her chilly feet beneath her as she settled closer to him.
"You weren't moonin' over that handsome young sheriff now, were you?"
"Oh, Matt!" She pressed her lips into a thin line and balled her fists on her hips playfully.
He grinned at her. "Well, he did say you were welcome to come back any time to visit your family's ranch."
"He's just being nice, Matt."
"Well, yes and no. He's sweet on you, Kitty."
"He is not! He's just being friendly, I told you."
"Well, in any case, if you come back here to visit, it'll be with me along for the ride."
"Don't you trust me, Matt?"
"Oh, I trust you. But I don't know that I trust him with a girl as pretty and sweet as you, Kitty Russell."
Her blue eyes sparkled in the moonlight, and she threw her arms around Matt Dillon's neck. She'd never felt like this about anyone in her life. Her big marshal just seemed too good to be true sometimes. How come he loved her so much? Why was he so good to her, a common saloon girl? It was a mystery to her still, but she wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Kitty's thoughts wandered again to her aunt's favorite poem, so lovely it made her chest ache, so simple and so very true: How do I love thee? Let me count the ways…
She hugged Matt's neck even tighter until he made a little strangled sound and chuckled. He raked his hand through his rumpled dark curls. "You must be feelin' better cause you're gettin' your strength back, little lady!"
She let go, biting her lip and wrinkling her nose at him impishly. "How on earth did you manage to sneak away?"
"Well, both Doc and Chester were sawing logs like thunder, so I figured I could slip in here pretty easy, and neither of them would be the wiser." He chucked her softly under her chin. "But it's pretty dadgum late, you know. I can leave if you're tired…"
"Oh, don't you dare, Matt Dillon…" Her eyes gleamed at him as she watched his gaze travel appreciatively over her voluptuous figure, scarcely concealed by gauzy white cotton.
She leaned closer and rubbed her cheek against his smooth one. "Mmm… You shaved again?"
"Just for you, sweetheart."
"You shaved just for me?"
"Is that so surprising?" Matt's deep voice tickled her low in her belly.
"You knew you were gonna' slip in here, tonight didn't you, Cowboy?"
"Maybe I did, honey," he murmured, brushing his lips invitingly across her cheek. "Maybe I did…"
"Well, aren't you full of surprises?" She drew back and looked into his blue eyes, fringed with black lashes that made her heart constrict. He had the sweetest eyes, she thought for the hundredth time that day, inhaling his scent. He smelled of shaving soap and…was that a little hint of fancy toilet water? She was astounded and murmured quietly, "And you smell so good, too…"
"As good as Virgil Ware?"
"Oh, Matt, stop that." She slipped her arms around his broad shoulders, rubbed her cheek against his again like a cat and breathed deeply. "You smell better. I could take a bite outta' you, Matt Dillon…"
"Kitty, I don't think you're quite up to…"
"Now, Cowboy, don't you tell me what I'm up to," she purred as she pressed her soft lips against his, kissing him deeply.
Matt groaned and wrapped his long arms around her, pulling her lithe, cotton-clad body tightly against his. They kissed urgently, their desire multiplied because of the enforced days apart in the company of others who might not understand the marshal and the saloon girl's extreme need for each other. He pulled her into his lap, her legs readily wrapping around his waist, and they kissed over and over until their lips were swollen and slick and they were both breathless with hunger for each other.
Kitty broke away, gasping, "Oh, Matt, I want to feel your skin…" She fumbled with the buttons of his union suit and tugged it down off his shoulders and arms, kissing his broad chest, leaving trails of fire wherever her scorching lips touched and her tongue heatedly swirled.
"Kitty…" Matt hissed. "Shouldn't we…oh honey…shouldn't we stop? You shouldn't be…"
She pulled away, her eyes burning with need, and stripped the sheer nightgown over her head, baring her body to the young marshal's searing gaze. His eyes raked over her full, heaving breasts and generous hips, and his hands instinctively reached out to touch her everywhere at once. His objections were forgotten at the overwhelming sight of his sweet, sweet girl, naked and wanton in his lap. His calloused hands swept over her skin, smoothing over her curves, tracing her sweet spots, until she dropped her head back and sighed helplessly. He slid his long fingers around the back of her head, trailing his lips over her silken neck and shoulders, nipping at her milky throat with his tongue and teeth, until her head was limp and her eyes closed with uninhibited yearning. He clutched her thick braid and pulled her gently but firmly closer, kissing her long and deep, his hot mouth eagerly exploring hers while his hand cupped an ample breast that molded perfectly to his palm.
His thumb stroked her tight, pink rosebud nipple until he felt her center grinding against his hips, and then her hand began fumbling for his waistband. He stopped, and they looked breathlessly into one another's eyes. He felt her hands struggling to unbutton his pants, freeing his hot, silken length, sliding over the fevered skin, her thumb sliding over the creamy drops on the tip until he groaned aloud.
She placed her small hand over his mouth, her eyes darting to the door. "You want Chester busting in here right now, Cowboy?"
Through gritted teeth, Matt bit out the words as Kitty's hand continued to slide inexorably up and down on his impressive length, "I think I'd shoot him outright."
Kitty leaned over to lave heatedly at his rosy, pebbled skin, her breath tickling as she whispered against his chest. "I want you inside me, Matt Dillon."
He slid a hand between her legs, his fingers exploring her secret flesh, and she drew in a quick, whimpering breath as he murmured in a low, tortured tone, "God, you're so wet, Kitty."
"I'm ready for you. I need you so bad, Matt." She leaned over and placed a hot, suckling kiss on the head of his engorged manhood and breathed, "I need you inside me."
No further discussion was needed. He embraced her slim waist, lifting her gently, and slipped inside her slowly, slowly, so as not to hurt her. Breathing deeply and deliberately, she let her inner muscles adjust to his large size while his hand comfortingly stroked her smooth back. Her wide, sapphire eyes never left his, not for a moment. When she was ready, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he clutched her round bottom, and they rocked together as one slowly, so slowly still. She gave a small cry at the utter intimacy of the moment, kissing her lover's lips desperately, gripping his shoulders, pressing her aching breasts into his hard chest. It was so slow and so gentle that it lasted an eternity, their sweet intimate embrace. They remained joined together as one in the pearly moonlight, rocking, rocking together until she whispered in his ear, "I love you, Matt Dillon. With all my heart." She kissed the corner of his mouth with tender lips. She began regretfully, "My past..." But Matt hushed her with a tip of his finger to her lips.
Her eyes filled with unshed tears as she confessed to him, "I've never loved anyone like this before."
He huskily urged, "Promise me you'll never go back. Those days are over."
Gasping as he moved rhythmically inside her, she sighed ardently, "I promise… I promise."
"And I'll always be here for you, Kitty Russell." He reached down where they were joined and kneaded her sensitive, swollen feminine flesh. "I'll always be here. Whenever you need me."
She threw her head back and her lips parted soundlessly as her body responded to his soft, searching touch, her private, inner muscles embracing his hard length. He came inside her, passionately, hotly, and he held her securely against him as he thought to himself that he would never let her go.
Exhausted, her supple body wrapped around his skin on skin, she whispered tiredly against his neck, "I love thee to the depth…" Kitty Russell touched her lips tenderly to his throat. "…and breadth…" Another sweet kiss. "…and height my soul can reach…" She tilted her head back to gaze devotedly into his blue eyes as he smiled sleepily at her, his fingers tracing lazy paths over her bare back. "You've made me new again, Matt Dillon. I'm never looking back."