She made a soft sound of appreciation at the back of her throat and leaned into him, one hand settling on his chest while the other moved up into his hair again. He slanted his mouth hungrily over hers, running his tongue along her lower lip, encouraging her to part for him. And she did, with a soft sigh, allowing him to taste the sweet depths her mouth offered.
Her tongue met his, teasing and gliding in an effortless dance, one they both seemed to know so well, though their kisses hadn’t been anywhere near enough for that to be the case. It’s as if she was made just for me. She belongs just to me. It caught his breath again as he felt the possessive desire to hold her and claim her as his and his alone. Why did he feel this way every time he was with her?
Slowly, he eased away from her and stared down at her kiss-swollen lips, then at her soft, shining eyes that were watching him under heavy lids. She was incredibly beautiful and was the temptation he couldn’t deny. But he had planned to treat her the way she deserved, not to take advantage of what she offered.
“Why? Why, Anya? You could give yourself to any man in the world. Why did you choose me?”
She looked at him, and her fingers smoothed down the facial hair he had started to grow in. “Because you make me feel more like a woman than I’ve ever felt before. You make me feel desired and feminine, something that is very rare these days. I’ve never had a man look at me the way you do.”
“Anya.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how to thank you for giving me your innocence. And I don’t know how I can really expect you to forgive me for last week.”
Anya’s eyes dropped slowly and she stared at the blanket where her fingers picked at the fabric. “What did happen last week, Stryker? I was a bit foggy when I left Sunday morning.”
Stryker ran a hand through his hair, then repositioned his hat on his head. “I don’t really have a good answer for you, Anya. Not one that I’m proud to say, at least.”
Her eyes searched his face, and he could tell she wasn’t willing to take his noncommittal response as an answer. He had hoped the week and a half of being away from her would have given him the chance to realize that they’d just been two consenting adults who had enjoyed their time together, and that he owed her nothing. Instead, the longer he was away from her, the more he craved her. He sighed heavily and shook his head.
“You don’t know me very well, Anya. I’ve done some terrible things in my life. And I won’t ever speak of them. I’m not a good man.”
She frowned at him. “I don’t give a damn about your past. I care about the man who is sitting in front of me this very moment. And this man—the one I’m looking at—is a good man.” Her eyes searched his face. “What haunts you, Stryker? I can see it in your eyes. I’ve seen flashes of it before. And it isn’t the rodeo. That wouldn’t leave such a dark mark.”
“I wanted to spend tonight with you because I have to leave town tomorrow. I shouldn’t be gone long, but it is to take care of some business that I can’t talk about.”
Her eyes searched his face, and she smiled slowly. “Then we should make sure tonight counts for something.”
Chapter 15
Anya wasn’t used to being the one in control. She wasn’t used to any of this. But she knew what she wanted. And that was Stryker. She craved his touch, his scent, his arms, all of him. And if he wasn’t willing to make the move, she would. Even though she was certain she was going to make herself look quite the fool.
She leaned into him, resting her hand on his chest, and looked up into his eyes. They had become so dark, and, with the faint streamers of the setting sun behind her, they looked like a fire blazed within their depths. Should she ask him to kiss her? No. She was in charge.
She stretched forward and placed her lips to his, tentatively at first, and the taste of him was intoxicating. She moved her lips leisurely over his, taking her time to enjoy him. The smell of his cologne filled her nostrils and the spicy scent seemed to wrap all around her. She could drown in this man. His lips responded to hers, moving just as lazily, while her heartbeat seemed to double.
The fire that had been in his eyes seemed to have settled deep within her. She felt warm, flushed, and excited at what she knew was to come. She pulled his lower lip between her teeth and sucked on it gently. He drew in a deep breath, and she felt a smile pull at her lips, interrupting their kiss.
“What are you so smug about?” His voice rumbled around her.
“Just knowing that I can make you feel some of what you make me feel is a very nice experience. Is this what it feels like when, well, whenever you do this?”
“First off,” he said, stretching out on the blanket and pulling her along with him so she lay partway on top of him, “I don’t do ‘this’ with any woman. She has to be incredibly special. She has to be smart, and funny, and beautiful, and sexy as hell.”
“Oh.” Anya suddenly felt very self-conscious. Did he really think all of those things about her?
“And B, I’m not sure what you’re feeling. You might have to describe it to me.”
“Oh, no,” she groaned and dropped her head to his chest. She tried not to laugh, but the chuckles slipped out.
“What’s so funny?”
“You’re one of those people. You can’t keep track of your logic.”
“What are you talking about?” He lifted his head and stared down at her as if she had lost her mind.
“You said ‘first off’ and then you said ‘B.’ When you should have said, ‘second off.’”
“Oh, so you’re the leading authority on the way a person should keep track of their logic, are you?” He was laughing with her, but his hands reached down to her ribs where he found her sensitive sides, and his fingers moved quickly, until she let out a peal of laughter that caused the horses’ heads to jerk up from where they’d been tethered and grazing nearby.
He rolled her onto her back so he could stare down at her, and the laughter on his face was the most handsome thing she’d ever seen. “You really need to smile more often,” she said softly, her fingers reaching up and tracing his lips.
“You make me smile,” he said, his voice in the same hushed tone as hers. “And I can’t remember the last time I laughed like that.”
She sighed heavily, though a smile still clung to her lips. “You make me smile all the time.”
“I wish that were true, bella. I know I’ve hurt you, but I hope I’m making up for some of that.”
“You’ve made a good start.”
His eyebrow lifted. “Did you have something else in mind?”
She could feel her cheeks burning with a blush. “Well, I wouldn’t mind a repeat of the other morning.”
His eyes widened as he looked at her, and a slow, very masculine smile spread across his lips. “Oh really, señorita? Are you sure you really remember the other morning that clearly? You had a pretty bad knock to the head if I remember correctly. And…” He turned her head to the side where the bruising was fading. “The proof is still there.”
“Oh, I know exactly what I have in mind.” She bit her lower lip to try not to smile, and her desire to beam at him faded quickly at the look of hunger that moved across Stryker’s face. “Kiss me, Stryker. Kiss me the way you’ve always wanted to kiss a woman. I want to taste your passion.”
He let out a soft moan before lowering his head to hers, pressing his lips to hers with intensity, so firmly she thought he would bruise them. But she didn’t mind. She kissed him back with the same ferocity, one hand sliding into his hair while the other hand worked to pull his shirt out of his jeans so she could touch his skin.
His hands joined hers at his waist, and he quickly pulled at his shirt. She slid her hand up underneath the material and sighed heavily as she touched the smooth skin of his back. He used her sigh as the opportunity he needed to slip his tongue into her mouth. She moaned in the back of her throat and opened
her mouth for him, allowing him to take as much as he wanted, and she gave just as much in return.
Their tongues danced together, and she distantly became aware of the howl of coyotes in the far-off fields, but it wasn’t loud enough to overpower the pounding of her heart in her ears. The things this man could make her feel were beyond words. All she could think about was having him skin-to-skin with her.
She pulled her hand from his thick hair and her other hand from underneath his shirt, and he groaned at the loss of her touch. But he drew in a sharp breath when he felt her fingers on the buttons of his shirt, and he shifted his weight to give her the room to unbutton it all the way. He pulled back from her and shrugged out of his shirt and dropped back down on his hands, hovering over her to kiss her again, but her hand pressed against his chest, stopping him.
“So…you’re doing this for me?” she asked, her lips lifting in a hesitant smile.
He drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “Yes.”
“Then at least give me a little time to admire,” she murmured, pushing him over and onto his back. She lay alongside him and stared down at his muscular torso, from his broad shoulders to his narrow, tapered waist.
He smiled up at her. “I don’t know that I’ve ever had a woman ask to ‘admire’ me.”
“Any woman would admire you for many reasons. They’d admire your intelligence, your wit, your humor…and certainly your body.” She ran her fingers along his shoulders, pressing and testing the strength of his muscles. When her hand ran down to his smooth chest, a slight shiver ran down her back. He was the most perfectly made man she had ever laid eyes on.
When her hand slid down to his abs, his hand caught hers, holding her fingers in his. “I think there’s only so much admiring from you that I can handle.” His voice was strained and thick, and her gaze shifted to his face.
His eyes were on hers, and his hand reached up into her hair, brushing the strands away from her face. “Are you even remotely aware of how beautiful you are?”
Anya felt her cheeks burning again. “Stryker, I only feel beautiful when I’m with you. You make me feel so many different things…” Before she could say anything else foolish, she lowered her mouth to his and took his lips as aggressively as he had taken hers when he had kissed her only minutes earlier.
His fingers instantly went to work on the small buttons on her blouse, but he made a sound of frustration, as his large fingers couldn’t work the delicate pearls. Licking her lips, she pulled away from him and lifted the shirt over her head and tossed it to the side.
She leaned down toward him to kiss him again, but his large, calloused hands caught her slender shoulders, stopping her. “It’s my turn to admire,” he said, his voice husky.
Anya drew in a shuddering breath as his fingers quickly released the clasp at the back of her bra, and the light material slid away, revealing her breasts for his desire-glazed eyes. His fingers feathered along her collarbone, a gentle caress, and she knew she was blushing to the roots of her hair.
His hands slid down her sides, and the feeling of his calloused fingers rubbing against her smooth flesh made her eyes close in delight. This was what she wanted. She wanted to be with this man, in his arms, protected from the world, without a single care.
“Open your eyes, Anya.” His command wasn’t harsh, but more of a request. “I want to see your eyes while I touch you.”
The air rushed out of Anya’s lungs, and she felt a strong tingling between her thighs. This man knew how to say the right things to turn on a woman. She opened her eyes slowly and was staring into a face full of desire, as her body quivered with anticipation.
His hands moved inwards, rubbing lightly over her stomach, and she moaned softly, but never took her eyes off him. She didn’t understand how he could maintain such control. She wanted to feel him, every inch of him on her, around her…in her. She needed to be one with the man who was stealing her heart.
She could feel in her soul that he was a good man. She could tell by the way his buddies respected him, by the diligent way he cared for his animals, and by the tenderness he’d shown to her, over and over again. He may not want marriage or children…things she had craved to have one day in the future. He may not even want to have a long-term relationship with her. But she would treasure what she had now and cherish the memories always.
His hands spanned her waist and his thumbs brushed the undersides of her breasts. She bit her lower lip to hold back her cry of excitement. His fingers moved smoothly, slowly inching up her skin until his palms cupped her breasts, but he deliberately kept his fingers away from her nipples, the part that ached for his touch so much they nearly hurt.
“Stryker,” she moaned.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispered.
Saying the things she wanted him to do to her out loud was incredibly erotic, and she was afraid she would sound like a fool. “Touch me,” she gasped.
“Where? Where do you want me to touch you, bella?”
“My…my nipples. Oh, Stryker, I ache for your touch.”
And then he was touching her, his fingers lightly circling the pouting buds, then his rough palms rubbed over them and she gasped, arching her back so her breasts filled his hands. He squeezed and pinched, rolled and pressed, until she was squirming against him, eager for more.
“Tell me what you want next, Anya. Tell me. This is your night. I want to do whatever you want.”
The feeling of control was as much of an aphrodisiac as his touch and his voice. “I want…” She licked her lips. “I want to undress you.”
He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Do I get to keep touching you while you do that?”
“Oh, yes, of course!” she replied, nodding at him, and he chuckled.
“At least I know you like the way I touch you.”
She gave him a soft smile. “I suppose I was a little obvious about that, huh?”
“You don’t hear me complaining,” he murmured as he squeezed one of her nipples and she gasped, her mind suddenly back on getting him naked as fast as she could.
Her fingers slipped under the waistband of his jeans, and he sucked in a sharp breath. She smiled to herself. Two could play this game. She could make him burn the same as he made her burn. She unfastened his belt slowly and let her fingers linger at his low waist, feeling the thin trail of dark hair that led down to his erection.
Finally, she slipped the button at the top of his jeans free, then pulled at his zipper. Her pulse was racing as she could feel the heat of his body through his jeans. When she finally had the zipper lowered, she gripped the waistband and began to pull his jeans down.
“Let me help.” His voice was thick and husky, and her eyes flew to his face. The desire was so strong, it caused her heart to skip a beat, then lurch forward at a nearly painful rate. He wanted her. He craved her as much as she craved him.
Lifting his hips, he slid out of his jeans and boxer briefs, tossing his boots to the side along with his clothes. Then he lay back and he was hers to look at, enjoy, and pleasure as she felt like it. She wanted to pleasure him to the point that he lost all control.
His desire was obvious, and she couldn’t tear her eyes from the part of him she knew could bring her so much pleasure. She reached for it, and he moved quickly, catching her wrist, stopping her from touching him.
“Anya,” he said, his voice strained, “I don’t know how much more I can take. I need you.”
Her gaze searched his face, and she licked her lips before dropping her head down to his, pressing her lips against the pulse beating rapidly at his neck. “I need you, as well.”
“Good,” he growled, and he made quick work unbuttoning her starched slacks, which she had slid on before driving over to Stryker’s ranch, and he lowered the zipper before her small hand on his stopped him.
“You said this is my night, right?”
He let his breath out slowly. “Yes. But I want to pleasure you.”
“This is all still so new to me, Stryker. Let me pleasure you. We have all night.”
He swallowed, and his hands slid back up to her neck. He pulled her down to him, pressing his lips urgently against hers. “What did I do to deserve you?” he whispered against her ear as his lips traveled along her cheek and jawbone. She tilted her head back, giving him access to her neck, and his hands slid lower, lifting and molding her breasts.
When his fingers plucked her nipples, she gasped and pulled back from him. “You’re distracting me,” she said with a light smile, and while she kept her gaze on his face, her hand traveled down his chest, across his abs, and her fingers combed the hair that surrounded his sex.
He closed his eyes and moaned as her hand slowly wrapped around him, measuring him as she moved up and down his length. Anya’s gaze dropped to her hand, and she marveled at what she held. It pulsed with his heartbeat and filled her palm.
Moisture gathered at the tip, and with curiosity she touched it, smoothing the silky substance around the head. “Anya,” he groaned.
She felt as if she were melting in her very core. She ached between her legs, in the spot that she knew only he could pleasure. Breathing heavily, she stripped out of her slacks and her lace underwear, underwear she had gotten specifically with the hope that she would be with Stryker again. Her clothes and boots landed in the pile next to Stryker’s.
“What…what do I do now?” she asked, suddenly feeling very shy and nervous.
He gave her a soft smile. “What do you want?”
“I want you inside me. I need you, Stryker.”
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