Beholden: A Small-Town Standalone Romance (Carmel Cove Book 1)

by Dr. Rebecca Sharp

  And fuck if I didn’t feel the same.

  My hands gripped her scalp, bleeding red-gold strands between my fingers as I angled her head and lost myself in her mouth.

  Her taste was complex, like the finest coffee, and I wanted to explore every nuance. The notes of sweet. The bursts of bitterness. I devoured her like she was the finest drug with long, savoring strokes of my tongue against hers. Invading every inch of her mouth, the kiss was a foreshadowing—a promise that I would do the same to the rest of her body.

  Explore it.

  Cherish it.

  Take it.

  Thick, smoky lust leaked from us—from the flames our kiss stoked back to life. Flames that refused to be stifled—refused to be doused no matter how hard we’d tried. When I finally dragged my lips from hers, a voracious need that matched my own reflected in her ocean-blue eyes, just as vibrantly as the sea reflects the sky.

  From the first night I held her in my arms, when she begged to not lose anything else, I knew that I’d do anything to give this woman anything she ever asked of me. Any fucking thing.

  And it had nothing to do with who her grandfather was to me.

  It had everything to do with how my body required her with an intensity that rivaled its requirement for oxygen.

  “You sure—” I broke off because the question was more than the words I had to ask it.

  She needed to be sure. Even if she never spoke about it, I knew being here was like walking on logs that moved and shifted unsteadily in a mire of memories. I didn’t want her to cling to me because there was nothing left.

  I wanted her to reach for me because she wanted me.

  “Eli.” She sighed my name, arching against me and letting the last of her defenses fall away. “I need you to stay. I’m tired of fighting how I feel about everything and everyone in this town. And I’m tired of fighting how I feel about you…”

  I was slain by the small fingers that clutched into my shirt with the strength of steel and the fortitude that went unmatched.

  She was asking me to stay.

  This strong woman, so injured by life, who’d lived for so long never asking for help, never asking for a hand to hold or a shoulder to lean on—the woman who’d never felt safe enough to let her emotions out, safe enough to have the luxury to ask, was asking me now to stay.

  Because she finally felt safe.

  My cock jerked against my jeans, desperate to be inside her heat. To feel her wet warmth that tempted me to insanity the other night. To take everything she was offering and make it mine. Treasure it. Keep it safe.

  Sealing my lips over hers once more, my groan drowned in the warmth of her mouth.

  Her body spoke for her, latching on to mine with every ounce of strength that she possessed. Her tongue whispered against mine how much she wanted me. And mine listened. It licked and stroked, encouraged and pushed her to feel more, to give me more because I would take it. I wanted to. I wanted every beautiful, broken, and uncertain emotion she had. And I would hold her steady until she found what she was looking for.

  “I’ve wanted you like this from the moment I ran into you,” she confessed against my mouth as I hoisted her into my arms, her legs wrapping instinctively around my waist.

  “I know,” I growled, my cock cradled against her heat.

  She bit my lip and sucked. “No, you didn’t.”

  I groaned, low and deep. “That night I did.” I carried her into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind me.

  “I was drunk, that’s why I took off my clothes.”

  “And is that why you asked if I was going to kiss you?” I growled against her mouth.

  Her surprised inhale jerked her hard tits against my chest and a wave of ferocious need rocked through me.

  “I did—” she broke off with a squeal as I dropped her onto the bed.

  Planting my fists into the mattress on either side, I stuck my face right in front of hers, both of us panting, heaving desire in and out of our chests like it was the new currency our lungs traded in.

  “I wanted you that night, too,” I rasped, memorizing every soulful fleck in her eyes. “And it was so fucking painful. To want you when I shouldn’t.” I bumped my nose against hers. “To want to finish stripping you. To want to taste every inch of your skin.”

  I slid my hands to her hips and then up, grabbing the edge of her shirt and lifting it over her chest.

  Her stare held mine, a sexy stalemate as I slid the fabric up over her head.

  “I wanted to see if you tasted like moonlight and madness,” I growled as I dropped her shirt to the floor.

  She shuddered, desire rippling across her body like a breeze over the sea, and her eyes glittered up at me. “So, taste me.”

  My cock swelled, and my focus held on her face for a few tenuous seconds before it finally fell under the weight of my need to taste the expanse of pristine skin I’d revealed.

  “God, Laurel…” I groaned.

  I’d seen a lot of beautiful sights living on this coast. Ocean panoramas and sunsets that would make your chest tighten and your mind wonder if such beauty could be real.

  But this… her…

  My knees slammed down onto the unforgiving wood floor, my gaze captive to the sight in front of me.

  Her red hair streamed down like falling, flaming stars over her pale shoulders, fading just at the swell of her tits. Pale and creamy, the pert globes stared at me with rosy red peaks. More than the ocean, more than a sunset, my soul wondered not if her beauty was real, but if this moment was.

  “W-What did you say?” she stammered, her breasts shaking with her wavering breath.

  I didn’t answer her right away. I couldn’t. My attention was enraptured by my hand as it reached out, filling my palm with the warm weight of her snow-white breast. She moaned as I rolled a thumb over her nipple, teasing the peak the way that had driven her insane before.

  “Eli…” she whimpered and threw her head back.

  I bit into my tongue, drawing blood when her thighs parted on instinct—with pure ache.

  My other hand gripped her thigh, spreading her legs even wider so I could tip forward between them. Holding her nipple up like it was a fucking prized dessert, my tongue flattened and dragged over the stiff peak.

  Hot, sharp lust stabbed through me like the most violent assault and her soft whimper poured salt into the wound.

  Latching around the taut peak, I groaned and sucked the sweet, soft bud until she writhed against me. This was what I wanted. Not just to taste her. Not just to give her a safe place to let go. But to make her feel whole.

  “You passed out before I could answer,” I finally answered hoarsely, dragging my teeth over her sensitive skin. “But I would’ve told you that once I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop.”

  Her gasp was small but resonated down her body like an earthquake, her tit shoving against my mouth while her hips gyrated against my stomach.

  My hand splayed on her thigh slid up over her quivering stomach to cup the firm weight of her other breast, kneading and tugging while I worshipped her with my mouth. She might not be ready to let herself cry from sadness, but from pleasure… she begged to cry from that.

  She begged to be consumed by it.

  Her little pants and moans drove me insane, past the brink of what my brain was able to process. My body moved with a will of its own—a primal need to make her mine.

  My lips licked across to latch on to her other nipple, sucking hard as my fingers drifted lower, toward the wet heat I knew was waiting—aching for me.

  “Eli, please.”

  With a growl, I pushed her loose shorts and panties to the side and it only took one swipe of my knuckle over her slit to coat my finger in her slickness and incinerate any last trace of rational thought.

  “God, how I’ve dreamt of this,” I confessed, delving two fingers inside her heat.

  Her body tightened greedily around me, rippling with need as my thumb rubbed over the hard nub of he
r clit. With my fingers buried inside her, I curled them into her front wall, pressing against her sweet spot and she jerked violently against me.

  I teased her mercilessly, over and over again, sliding my fingers out before sinking them in deep and rubbing inside her. Her desire gushed from her in waves, coating my fingers… coating my palm.

  “So wet, sweetheart,” I groaned, listening to the slick sounds of her body sucking in my fingers. “So fucking wet.”

  Taking an immeasurable second, I worked her shorts and panties off her before wrenching her legs wide so my whole hand could pleasure between them.

  “Madness,” I murmured against her chest, watching her body eat up my fingers. It was the only explanation for how I was able to forestall my own need, drunk on the reaction of her body around me.

  I wanted her beyond the brink of sanity. I needed to. I fucked her with my fingers until she had no more strength to hold up her walls. Until it was more painful to hold on than it was to let go. To let everything go. And to give it all to me.

  Need twisted in my gut so hard it ripped the air from my lungs. I found her lust-laden gaze and held it as I kissed down her stomach, slowly fitting my shoulders between her thighs. Her pussy clenched around me, knowing the torment that was coming.

  Sinking down, I slipped my fingers from her. I fought the urge to lick them clean, but the only place I wanted to taste her desire was straight from the source—straight from the spring of her sex.

  My gaze finally slid to the treasure in front of me.

  Pink. Swollen. Glistening.

  My cock threatened to explode as my pulse screamed in my ear, pounding a savage beat when I saw her dripping with desire. The heady scent of her need drowned out all thoughts but one: to taste her.

  “Oh, God. Eli…” she gasped in a breath like I was about to drag her underwater—like she didn’t know when the pleasure would let her come up for air again.

  I closed my mouth over her pussy, and with the first swipe of my tongue along her entrance and up to her clit, she was gone.

  Her desire took over with a beautiful violence.

  Instantly. Savagely. All-consuming.

  Her fingers speared through my hair, locking my mouth against her as she bucked underneath me. I ate at her, swirling around her clit before jamming my tongue as far inside as it could go. All the while, feral growls escaped as she coated my tongue with her need.

  Her moonlit skin glistened with sparkling sweat as she shook and shuddered, falling back onto her elbows as she lost the strength to hold herself upright.

  “Let me taste you come,” I demanded roughly, dragging my teeth over her and pushing one finger back inside to give her body something to hold on to.

  “Make me, Eli,” she pleaded.

  Make her come.

  Make her let go.

  Closing my lips over her clit, I flicked my tongue over her before sucking hard and sending her shattering over the edge.

  She cried out and orgasmed so hard I thought her body might disintegrate into particles smaller than sand under its strength.

  I lapped up the waves of her release, relishing every moment all the while my own body threatened to fracture under the strain of wanting her with no relief.

  Lifting my head, I found those tempestuous blue eyes that glistened with tears and swirled with savage desire. Her flush was high on her cheekbones, blending the pale skin of her face into the fiery tresses of her hair.

  “Eli…” My name was all she ever needed to say for me to know exactly what she wanted.

  What we both needed.

  I rose up, reaching over my head and tugging my shirt off. Her eyes hungrily drank in the sight of my chest, following my hands to my belt. I didn’t drag out the motions. I didn’t have fucking time. My cock strained painfully against my jeans even as I undid them, finally bobbing free as I shoved the rest of my clothes to the floor.

  When I looked back to her, Laurel’s mouth parted with a delicious pout and my dick throbbed, releasing a drop of cum at the thought of pushing between her soft lips. But not tonight.

  My lip curled, wild with need as I moved over her, her thighs drifting open to accommodate me and her chest rising and falling raggedly in anticipation.

  She was so beautiful like this—magical and vulnerable and all mine.

  “Do you trust me?” I rasped against her cheek, dropping tender kisses on the now-dry streaks from her tears.

  I caught her holding her breath before she nodded. “Yes,” she murmured, firmly clamping her hand around the back of my neck and pulling my mouth down to hers.

  And the cape of chivalry gave way to the beast.

  I devoured her mouth as I angled the tip of my cock against her dripping entrance, feeling the heat pulsing, welcoming me inside. Reaching down, I pulled her leg up between us.

  There was only one first time. One first time to leave my impression. To make my mark and stake my claim.

  Bending her knee between us almost down to her chest, I teased her entrance with the tip of my cock, coating the fat head with her desire until she was rocking up against me.

  “Mine,” I growled against her mouth as I slammed home.

  Home.

  It was the perfect fucking word for how she felt around me. Warm. Welcoming. Enveloping.

  Her tight pussy stretched around me, scrambling to accommodate the invasion and clenching to draw me deeper.

  Our kiss had ceased, fading into harsh pants as I settled deep inside her, trying to rein in the intense urge to come.

  “Oh, God…” she gasped with a strangled voice.

  Groaning, I took that as her plea to move. My muscles shook as I slid almost the full length of my cock out before driving back into her, sending her arching up into me. But one slow stroke was all I had left before need took over.

  I began to thrust into her. Uncontrolled. Unrestrained. And urged on by the wet friction of her clenching around me and the sweet moans of pleasure when I hit her sweet spot with the tip of my cock.

  “Laurel…” My face fell into the warm crevice of her neck, her pulse racing against the tip of my nose, as I wished I had the strength to say more. But I had nothing left except instinct.

  My teeth sank into the side of her neck as I pumped into her, tearing her body apart with each and every stroke. I tasted the saltiness of her tears as they slipped through my lips, her body so wracked with pleasure—with an intimacy she’d denied it for so long.

  I squeezed my eyes shut because I couldn’t see any longer. My lips mapped a path to her ear where I begged her, feeling the way every muscle of her pulled taut, her breath stuck inside her lungs as she teetered on the edge… an edge that I was about to fly over.

  “Let go,” I encouraged roughly. “I’ve got you.”

  With one last feral growl, I drove my cock as far as it would go inside her tight, slippery sex and felt my heart stop when she seized around me and screamed my name.

  She came with violent submission, trusting me with her body and her pleasure. And it was that earth-shattering privilege that sent me over the edge.

  With a roar, I released into her, pumping out hot jets of raw release against her womb as her body clutched mine.

  Reality would remind me of our lack of protection later. Right now, my body reveled in knowing there was nothing between us.

  With a groan, I collapsed on top of her, her arms caging around me like she was afraid I’d vanish.

  “You okay?” I rasped against her ear.

  She hummed with sated bliss. “I’m better.”

  My chest swelled, the simple words holding so much meaning.

  Minutes ticked by with our long gasps and hard heartbeats as the world quietly built back up around us.

  “I’m on the pill, by the way,” she said quietly.

  The relief I felt wasn’t as great as I thought it would be.

  “I should’ve asked, but to be honest, my dick really didn’t give a damn at that moment,” I admitted roughly ne
xt to her ear, catching the small smile on her pouty lips.

  When I found some semblance of strength, I kissed gently along her jawline as I pushed up and slid out of her, heading to the bathroom for a warm washcloth. When I returned, I halted, seeing her sitting up in bed, her hair spilling over her shoulders like red ribbons of an opened gift.

  But it was the look in her eyes that forced me to stop—that brought me to my knees.

  “I’m not leaving,” I swore with a low voice.

  She’d let herself be vulnerable. She’d let herself feel. She’d let me in. And now, her instincts were flaring back to life, reminding her how she’d lost everyone else who’d had that privilege.

  Relief flashed as she chewed on her lower lip, admitting softly, “I don’t want you to go.”

  “Good.”

  A few minutes later, not leaving her sight again, I tugged down the covers and we slid between them.

  “I’m not leaving you,” I promised again as I pulled her against my chest. Her weary, relieved sigh made my heart thud erratically as she curled in tightly.

  I repeated the words a few more times until she drifted to sleep and, as my eyes fell shut, I realized something…

  I wasn’t leaving her.

  But there was no guarantee that she wasn’t going to leave me.

  Laurel

  I’d slept with Eli.

  My contractor.

  My consummate savior.

  I groaned, burying my face in my pillow, the long melodic sound pulled from a deliciously sore stretch of muscles used to the very brink of their limits. And while those memories assaulted my body, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee invaded my lungs and the sound of shuffling out in the kitchen gave away Eli’s location.

  I rolled over to find his spot in bed still warm from where he’d held me all night. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was afraid I was going to up and leave without him knowing. This thought pulled a warm shudder through me, quickly quelled with the promise we’d made.

  This didn’t change anything.