Hung Sweetheart

by Lena Lucas

  And when Sloan started moving in and out of me faster, with more force, I couldn’t wrap my head around the exquisiteness of it all. The pain started to diminish fully as pleasure took over, and I embraced it all, just giving myself completely to Sloan.

  I watched the play of ecstasy cover his face, unable to look away, his arousal making mine soar even higher.

  He pushed deep into me, grinding his pelvis against mine, and I gasped, “Sloan,” in surprised ecstasy.

  He pulled out, and the head of his cock brushed along a hidden, sensitive spot inside me. An involuntary shiver worked through me. What spot he hit had my eyes rolling back in my head and a mewling cry leaving me.

  “Christ,” he grunted in an almost animalistic way, and I gasped at… how much that turned me on. “You feel sooo fucking good.” He groaned and clenched his jaw immediately after, a muscle ticking under the scruff-covered skin.

  He hovered over me, his body so big and imposing, my frame so slight and feminine compared to his. My inner muscles clenched around his huge girth almost involuntarily, and he gasped then groaned. “Fuck, Pepper, you can’t do that.” His words were broken up from his pleasure. “I’ll come before I want this to end.”

  I gasped at the powerful thrust he did just then, as if he wanted me to know with his body that he was still in the game, that this would only end when he was ready for it to be done.

  “Oh… God, Sloan,” I moaned and kicked my head back, closing my eyes and parting my lips in the process as intense pleasure claimed me. “Yes. So good. Ahhh,” I cried out when he thrust in hard again, then ground himself against me, the pressure on my clit intense enough that stars burst across my closed lids.

  He pistoned into me, slamming his hips against mine, making me take all his massive, thick inches. I felt my eyes widen as any kind of discomfort I initially felt vanished and was replaced by this intense bliss that stole my breath.

  In and out. In and out. His hips swinging back and forth. Back and forth.

  Sloan was so far inside me that there was no part of my body he wasn’t touching, no part of me that he wasn’t connected to. This wasn’t just on a physical level but went deeper. So much deeper.

  “Fuck,” he growled and curled his fingers around my waist even harder, pinning me in place, making me take all he had to give. The sounds of our flesh slapping together was filthy and wet, erotic and had my pleasure mounting.

  And as I gripped his forearms, curling my nails into his tawny flesh, and widened my thighs farther, I knew I was going to go over the edge hard. And this orgasm wouldn’t be like any of the ones before. I’d feel this in my soul.

  The root of his cock rubbed against my clit every time he slammed into me, and all I could do was hold on and breathe, not wanting it to end, wanting the pleasure to break inside me and live in me forever, but I knew my time was coming. The end was coming like a freight train, and there was no stopping it.

  And with each passing second, Sloan was increasing his speed, his pace… his aggressive arousal that brought me to the brink of pleasurable madness.

  “The things I want to do to you,” he murmured and buried his face in the crook of my neck, running his nose up the length of my throat and nipping at my ear. “The things I want to say right now as I’m deep in your pussy, feeling that tightness all around me….” He didn’t finish, not as he threw his hips against mine, sheathing himself so far in me I didn't know where he ended and I began.

  “Tell me what you want to do to me,” I gasped, surprised at myself that I wanted to hear the dirty words. God, I want to hear them.

  He growled low, his eyes locked on mine, his hips never stopping their frantic pistoning. Sweat lined his big, muscular body, dripping onto mine, a searing pleasure moving right to my pussy and causing my inner muscles to clench him tightly. He hissed then groaned.

  “I want to see you get off, Pepper.” His voice was nothing more than a deep, husky murmur. “I want to feel this tight little pussy milking my cock until we both go over the edge, until I fill you up and make you take every ounce of my seed.”

  Yes. God, yesss.

  He pulled back and reached between our bodies to press his thumb to the hard bundle of nerves that was already swollen and ultra-sensitive. Sloan rubbed my clit back and forth, his cock still deep in my virgin pussy as he slowly pushed into me and then pulled out. His eyes were on my face the entire time.

  “How’d you like that, baby?”

  I licked my lips then moaned when he added more pressure on my clit. “I loved it,” I whispered honestly.

  “This pussy is so juicy for me, Pepper, all this honey covering my cock, making it slick from your need.” He purred from the pleasure and then slammed his hands down by my head on the mattress, his forearms straight, and went right back to the powerful thrusting, pushing all those thick, long inches into my pussy and causing me to cry out.

  And every time he pressed into me, the root of his cock would rub against my already sensitive, engorged clit, the ecstasy intense. Sloan never relented as he ground himself against me again, rubbing my clit, making me cry out. He brought me to the precipice of pleasure I'd never even known existed.

  I was swiveling my hips on him, writhing under his big body, seeking more. I ground my pussy against him every time he thrust in deep. The sounds leaving me were so guttural I should have been embarrassed. I wasn’t. They turned me on.

  “Fuuuck.” That lone word came out of him so harshly that it set off another round of intense pleasure in me. “God, yes,” he hissed. “I never imagine anything could feel like this.” He had his head slightly lowered, his eyes hooded as he stared at me, all while he pumped in and out of my very willing body.

  His hips slammed in and out fast, hard, like a piston.

  In and out. In and out. Faster and harder until I was holding onto his forearms so I didn't slide up the bed. He buried his face in the crook of my neck and pounded into me like he had no more control.

  “Come on, baby. Give me one more. One more and I’ll follow you over.”

  And that was when I finally let go, when Sloan begged me to go over so he could follow.

  Oh. God.

  I moaned long and loud as my orgasm crashed through me, took my sanity, and refused to let go until I was nothing but a pliant mess pressed to the bed with Sloan.

  The pleasure was never ending, and when I felt him follow me to that ecstasy, his orgasm rushing out of his cock and filling me up, I felt connected in a way I never had before. And I knew this wasn’t because I lost my virginity to this man. This wasn't because I was desperate for that solitary feeling to leave. I felt like this, because Sloan brought it out in me.

  He’d been the only person to have that power, and I clung to it as the pleasure receded, too selfish to let it go. To let him go.

  He groaned deeply against my throat as his climax started to end, as his big body relaxed against me and we panted identically, erratically. And when he pulled out of my body with a grunt, I felt that loneliness start to crash in, but he pulled me close to his side instantly, tucking me against his body, wrapping me up in his strong arms.

  There was nothing else I could do—that I wanted to do in that moment—than cling to Sloan and let the aftereffects of what we’d just done and shared wash through me.

  “Never letting you go,” he murmured against my hair, and I sighed in contentment, resting my cheek against his chest, hearing the steady drum of his heart lulling me to sleep.

  “Good,” I whispered in return, but I was already drifting off, and for the first time in my life, I actually felt that loneliness that had always clung to me fade away.

  EPILOGUE ONE

  PEPPER

  Three years later

  I’m really doing this, I thought as I exhaled and stared at my reflection in the large mirror right in front of me. I exhaled a nervous breath, my muscles tight, butterflies moving in my stomach.

  Marriage. With Sloan.

  That had a smile fo
rming on my lips.

  He proposed last year, telling me he wanted to marry me from the moment he’d seen me. I knew why he waited, knew he wanted me to finish up getting my associate degree, to be steady on my feet and not feel tied down with marriage.

  I wanted to tell him I would have married him years before now, as soon as we’d become an official couple. But I admired—and was thankful—he’d given me time and the chance to carve out my life a little first.

  I stood in the little back room of Grace Star Church, the tiny, intimate church in Sweetheart, Colorado, so nervous to finally be Sloan’s wife, so excited to make my vows with him.

  This wasn’t a massive wedding, and we didn’t have many guests, hadn’t spent much of anything on it, and it was exactly how I’d always envisioned. Sloan had wanted to spoil me, to give me this grand wedding with a big frilly dress, a huge reception, and this fairytale fantasy he thought all girls dreamed of when they were little.

  And I looked at him, smiled, and just shook my head, and said, “All I want is you. That’s enough for me for the rest of my life.”

  My dress was something I’d gotten off the sale rack, a beautiful lacy number that wasn’t anything fancy, probably could be called a “Sunday brunch dress,” and it was everything I imagined for my wedding day.

  I hope Sloan thinks so too.

  I didn’t have anyone to walk me down the aisle, my father once again absent, driving his big rig across the country, even though he knew what today was. I didn’t doubt my father cared for me, maybe even loved me deeply, but the truth was he saw me as a loose extension of a different life he’d led. I was just a product of a time when he’d been sowing his wild oats.

  I exhaled, not wanting to let those thoughts intrude on this day. It didn’t matter either, because my father was who he was, and I was starting a new life with a man who looked at me like I was the sun that lit up his world.

  A flutter happened in my belly, warmth stealing over me.

  There was a soft knock on the door before someone said, “If you’re ready, Miss, everything is ready.”

  I exhaled once more, smiled at myself, then let it turn into a full-blown grin.

  “Here we go.” I headed out of the dressing room and made my way—slowly, nervously—toward the small room where I knew Sloan was waiting for me. But before I could get to the little door that was currently closed, the one that I’d open and walk through to make my way toward my soon-to-be-husband, someone stepped up beside me.

  I stilled, my heart in my throat as I looked up into the face of Sloan. He looked so handsome in his suit, a black, pressed one that fit his big body perfectly, that made me sway and sigh in female appreciation.

  “You’re not supposed to see me in my dress before the wedding,” I whispered, but I didn’t care. I was just so happy to see him.

  He gave me a lopsided smile before curling his big hands around my waist and pulling me in close. “I wasn’t about to let my girl walk down the aisle alone.” He got this serious expression on his face. “I love you too much to let that happen.”

  My heart melted for this man. Here he was, thinking about me, when he didn’t have his father here either. He had no family either, just a handful of mutual friends we made together over the years, but he wanted to ease my loneliness over the fact that my dad was once again absent.

  “I love you,” I whispered.

  He lifted his hands to cup my cheeks. “Not nearly a fraction of as much as I love you.” He stared into my eyes, this look of longing on his face. “Come on, let’s go make you my wife.”

  I chuckled softly but felt my heart swell. He held his arm out to me, and I slipped mine through it, letting the man I loved lead me to that closed door. He opened it, and together we started walking down the aisle. I could see a few friends standing in front of the pews on either side of us, could even see Leo—Sloan’s once employee at the hardware store and someone he cared for—and his girlfriend at the front row. Leo smiled and gave a thumbs-up, and I heard Sloan grunt, which made me smile.

  The music played as I held the arm of the man I loved, his strength keeping me upright. Once at the altar, we took our place in front of the pastor, facing each other, Sloan taking my hands in his and refusing to let them go.

  I stared into his eyes, falling more in love with him at that very moment. He cupped my cheeks and leaned down, kissing me and making the few guests that littered the pews chuckle in response.

  “I think you were supposed to wait for this part,” I murmured against his lips and felt him smile.

  “Like I was going to wait to do that until the end?” He kissed me again and again, and I melted against him.

  After long moments, we finally turned to the pastor, ready to make this official. I looked up at Sloan’s profile, my heart full, my life and future showing so much promise.

  I couldn't wait for what was to come, because I knew I always had this man by my side and in my corner.

  EPILOGUE TWO

  SLOAN

  One year later

  Did all guys go through this panic, this heart-thundering, fear-driven, uncontrollable need to take the pain away from the love of their life as she was about to bring their first child into the world?

  ’Cause I was there, multiplied by ten, and there wasn’t a fucking thing I could do about it.

  In fact, I wanted to punch something—preferably a brick wall—just so I could feel that pain in my knuckles spearing down my hand and arm, something to relate with Pepper, something that let out this wild energy inside me.

  I paced the hospital hallway, not even focused on any of the chaos and commotion currently going on. My mind was focused solely on Pepper and how I excused myself out of the room to grab a cup of coffee and had come back to see a nurse helping her to the bathroom. And that pissed me off too, because I wanted to be the one to have done that.

  Never leaving the damn room again.

  I speared my fingers through my hair in frustration, knowing the strands were disheveled, knowing I probably looked like I was on a razor’s edge where my control was concerned.

  I stopped and glanced at the closed hospital room door. Just imagining her in pain, knowing this was only going to get worse before we had our little boy, made me so fucking crazed. I didn't want to see her hurting. I wanted to take that away from her, let it seep into my body.

  Fuck, right now, I feel helpless.

  I ran my hand over my hair again and again, breathing out roughly, then stepping out of the way as another pregnant woman was pushed down the hallway in a wheelchair, her partner trailing behind with the same “I’m so out of my fucking element” expression on his face.

  I feel you, man. I feel you.

  Although I wanted a houseful of babies with Pepper, I’d wanted to wait, if nothing else than to enjoy my time with her before we started our family. I was selfish like that but made no apologies about it. But she’d gotten pregnant pretty quickly, just a couple of months after the wedding. It’s not like this wasn’t inevitable. It’s not like I ever used protection where my wife was concerned. Hell, I was too primal and territorial in that regard, wanting to fill her up and feel her bare every single time I was inside her tight, hot little body.

  So yeah, not surprising I knocked her up. And that had some fierce pride filling me. I’d gotten my woman pregnant.

  The door opened, and I whirled around. The nurse came out pushing the computer on wheels she’d brought in the room earlier. She was focused on something flashing on the screen, and I didn’t pay her any attention as I hauled ass back to Pepper.

  She lay in the bed with the blankets smoothed over her legs, her head on the pillow, her dark hair fanned out around her. Right now, she looked relaxed and not in pain. That had me exhaling a breath of relief.

  “How are you doing, baby?”

  She opened her eyes and turned her head in my direction, a smile lighting up her face.

  God, she was so strong.

  “Okay right now.
They’re doing the epidural in a few, so that’ll help. I hope at least.”

  I sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed a hand over her cheek, bruising away an errant strand of hair.

  We stayed like that for long minutes, Pepper’s eyes closing again as she rested, but then people filed into the room. A nurse and an anesthesiologist wheeling in the items they’d need to help my wife have less pain. I stepped aside, although it was the last thing I wanted to do.

  And for the longest time, I just stood there watching as they tended to her, hating that even this procedure was a little uncomfortable for her.

  But it was over quick enough, and I was right back by her side, holding her hand, letting her rest. I sat like that for hours, watching her easy breathing, knowing I should have gotten some rest myself, but I couldn't have slept if my life depended on it. My ass and legs were going numb from not moving—like I’d risk waking her by shifting on the bed—but I’d deal with this discomfort ten times over if it eased my woman.

  I felt my eyes growing heavy, when the hospital door opened again, and I once more moved out of the way, walking around the room to get blood flow back to my legs as they checked Pepper.

  “Ten centimeters. Fully effaced.”

  The doctor started rattling off other medical jargon that went over my head, but I’d gotten the gist of it.

  It was time to have this baby.

  My heart was beating so hard it was painful. I was sweating, the droplets forming on my forehead as my nerves and anxiety took root. My spine was ramrod-straight from the tension in my body, the fear and worry… the excitement.

  I didn’t know how long it was, but it seemed like everything happened so fast, a blur of motion and encouraging phrases for Pepper. I stood at the head of the bed, feeling my eyes widen with shock and wonder as I held one of her hands and told her to squeeze the ever-loving shit out of it.

  My beautiful, strong wife pushing, bringing a new little life into the world. The sweat beading her forehead. The strain and pain on her face.