The Cowboy's Curvy Mail-Order Bride's Wild Wedding Ride

The dust of the Montana plains swirled around the little wooden chapel like a living thing, carrying the sharp scent of sagebrush and sun-baked earth. Jacob Kane stood on the warped steps in a clean but worn black coat, his broad shoulders straining the seams, hat in hand. At thirty-two, the rancher had a face carved by wind and hard work—strong jaw shadowed by stubble, eyes the color of storm clouds. His heart hammered with a mix of anticipation and raw nerves as the stagecoach finally creaked into view.

Amelia Hart stepped down with the help of the driver, and Jacob felt the air leave his lungs. She was nothing like the frail, delicate women in the catalog. At twenty-two, the widowed beauty possessed the kind of lush, ripe body that made a man’s blood run hot. Her travel-worn blue dress clung to full, heavy breasts that rose and fell with each breath, the fabric stretched tight across wide, womanly hips and a round, generous backside. A few dark curls had escaped her pinned-up hair, framing a heart-shaped face with wide hazel eyes and a mouth made for sin. She met his gaze without flinching, and something electric crackled between them.

“Mrs. Hart?” His voice came out rougher than he intended.

“Mr. Kane,” she answered, a faint tremor in her soft voice. “Or should I say… husband?”

The circuit preacher, a wiry old man in a dusty frock coat, wasted no time. He ushered them inside the dim chapel that smelled of candle wax and old pine. The vows were spoken in minutes—simple, binding words that made Amelia’s pulse thunder in her ears. Jacob’s large, calloused hand engulfed hers, and she couldn’t stop noticing how tall he was, how powerfully built. When the preacher declared them man and wife, Jacob leaned down and brushed the lightest, most chaste kiss across her lips. It still sent heat licking down her spine.

The ride to the isolated cabin was silent but charged. The sun had dipped low, painting the hills in fire and gold. By the time they arrived, the only light came from the lantern Jacob lit inside. The one-room cabin was simple—stone hearth, sturdy wooden table, a large bed piled with quilts, and the faint scent of pine and leather. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing them in with nothing but the knowledge that they were now legally bound, and the marriage had to be consummated.

Jacob set the lantern on the table and turned to her. His eyes dropped involuntarily to the deep valley between her breasts, then lower to the flare of her hips. Amelia felt her nipples tighten under his hungry stare.

“You’re even more beautiful than your letters let on,” he said, voice low and gravelly.

Amelia’s cheeks flushed. “And you’re taller than I imagined. Stronger.” Her gaze drifted down his body of its own accord and widened at the unmistakable, massive bulge straining against the front of his trousers. The sight made her thighs clench and a rush of wet heat bloom between them.

He stepped closer, towering over her. “Let me help you out of that dress, wife. It looks like it’s been squeezing you all day.”

Her breath hitched as his big hands moved to the laces of her corset. The rough pads of his fingers brushed the soft, heavy undersides of her breasts as he worked the ties loose. Each accidental graze sent sparks racing across her skin. When the corset finally fell away, her full breasts spilled free, nipples already stiff and dark pink. Jacob groaned at the sight, his hands hovering as if afraid to touch something so perfect.

Amelia reached out boldly, her palm pressing against the thick, hard length trapped in his pants. The size of him made her whimper. “Jacob… I haven’t been touched by a man in over a year. Not properly. I need…” She swallowed, cheeks burning, but the ache between her legs gave her courage. “I need to be taken hard by a real man. I want you to claim every inch of me tonight.”

His control snapped.

With a low growl that vibrated through her bones, Jacob cupped the back of her neck and crushed his mouth to hers. The kiss was fierce, demanding—tongues sliding, teeth nipping, years of pent-up hunger pouring out. His other hand filled itself with one heavy breast, kneading the soft, yielding flesh, thumb flicking roughly over her nipple until she moaned into his mouth.

“I’m going to claim every lush, curvy inch of my new wife’s body,” he rasped against her lips. “Going to fuck you so deep and hard you’ll feel me for days.”

He spun her around, bending her over the sturdy oak table. Amelia gasped as her heavy breasts pressed against the cool wood. Jacob yanked her skirts up to her waist, exposing thick, creamy thighs and the soaked slit of her pussy. He ran a rough hand over the generous globes of her ass, squeezing hard.

“Goddamn, look at you. So wet already. This pretty cunt is dripping for me.”

Amelia cried out as he notched the thick, blunt head of his cock against her entrance and drove forward in one powerful thrust. The stretch was shocking—his cock was long and brutally thick, splitting her open until she felt every ridged inch buried to the hilt. The burn melted into blinding pleasure as he began to move, hips snapping forward with raw power. The wet slap of flesh filled the cabin, her heavy breasts swaying and dragging against the table with every thrust.

“Yes—harder!” she begged, pushing back to meet him. “Take me, Jacob. Claim your bride.”

He gripped her wide hips with bruising strength, pounding into her soaked pussy with deep, punishing strokes. The angle let him hit a spot inside her that made her vision spark white. Her first orgasm crashed over her without warning, walls clamping down around his pistoning cock as she screamed his name.

Before she could catch her breath, Jacob pulled out, lifted her into his powerful arms, and carried her to the bed. He sat on the edge and positioned her over him reverse cowgirl, lowering her dripping pussy back onto his massive shaft. Amelia’s head fell back as she took him to the root again, her thick thighs spread wide over his lap. The new position let her feel every inch even deeper.

“Ride me, wife,” he ordered, voice rough with lust. His hands roamed up to cup and squeeze her bouncing tits, pinching her nipples until she whimpered.

Amelia braced her hands on his muscled thighs and began to move, rolling her hips in long, sinful strokes. Her heavy breasts bounced wildly with every rise and fall, the wet sounds of her pussy devouring his cock obscene in the quiet cabin. Jacob’s palm cracked across her plump ass—once, twice—leaving bright red handprints that only made her ride him harder.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he groaned, spanking her again. “Look at that ass jiggle while you fuck yourself on my cock.”

The filthy words sent her spiraling into a second, sharper climax. Her inner walls fluttered and clenched around him so tightly that Jacob had to grit his teeth to keep from spilling.

He wasn’t done with her yet.

With a growl, he flipped her onto her back, pinning her thick thighs wide apart with his broad shoulders. The sight of her—flushed, sweating, pussy swollen and glistening—made his cock throb. He drove back inside her in a single brutal thrust, folding her nearly in half. The new angle let him grind against her clit with every deep plunge. Amelia’s nails raked down his back as he fucked her relentlessly, the heavy wooden bed creaking beneath them.

He gave her two more shattering orgasms like this—pounding her soaked, quivering cunt until she was hoarse from screaming. Only then did Jacob pull out, rising to his knees between her spread legs. His fist flew over his glistening cock, veins standing out along the thick shaft. With a guttural roar, he came hard, painting her soft, quivering belly and heaving breasts with thick, rope after rope of hot, pearly cum. The sight of his seed marking her lush curves sent one final, fluttering aftershock through Amelia’s body.

For long minutes afterward, the only sounds were their ragged breathing and the crackle of the fire.

Jacob rose on unsteady legs and fetched a basin of warm water and a soft cloth. With surprising tenderness, he cleaned his new bride—wiping away the evidence of their passion from her breasts, belly, and between her trembling thighs. Amelia watched him with heavy-lidded eyes, a soft, sated smile curving her lips. When he was done, he pulled the quilts over them both and drew her curvy, satisfied body tight against his broad chest, one big hand possessively cupping the swell of her ass.

Amelia nestled closer, pressing a sleepy kiss to the center of his chest. Her voice was a husky, contented whisper in the firelit dark.

“Our wedding night has only just begun.”