“Maggie,” he said softly, “I’m very, very good.”
She glared, and her eyebrows drew together in a tiny frown. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
He shook his head and pulled her hand toward him. “Just the truth. I’m not lettin’ you change your mind.”
Her shoulders straightened. “If we do this. It’s just this once. Just to get past it.”
His grin widened. “Think you can get me out of your system?”
“And this stays between us,” she said, her glare intensifying. “No one else can know.”
His eyebrows lowered. “You ashamed of wanting me?”
The way her gaze veered off again said plainly that she was. “I live here. People knew me before, when Doug was still here. I don’t want them looking at me differently.”
Danny remained silent for a moment, not wanting commit to a promise he didn’t want to keep, but in the end, he blew out a deep breath. Maggie wasn’t going to budge on this one. “Then it’ll be our secret. You finished laying down rules?”
“I guess.”
He stood, pulling her up with him, then turned, switching hands behind him as he pulled her out the door.
He didn’t bother keeping his steps short. Liked hearing her feet skip to keep up as he strode straight down the long hallway to her bedroom.
“Not here,” she said breathlessly behind him. “Your room. Please?”
Danny ignored the small pain that sliced through his chest and passed up her door on the way to his own.
Once inside, he turned, flicked on the light switch, and leaned his back against the door.
Her arms crossed at her waist. “Well?”
Feeling a little ornery, he reasoned she deserved to feel some discomfort after everything she’d put him through. “A man likes to watch a woman take off her clothes.”
She shook her head, defiance glowing in her brown eyes. “I can’t.”
“Just the robe, then. Slide it off.”
“What about you?”
“After you, sweetheart.”
She swallowed hard, opened the tie of her robe, and shrugged it off, letting it pool on the floor behind her. Then her gaze returned to him, one fine brow arching.
Danny leaned away from the door and stripped off his T-shirt, balling it in his fist to toss toward the bathroom door.
He didn’t bother to wait for her to balk at removing another piece of clothing and flicked open the button at the top of his jeans. The scrape of the zipper sounded overloud in the silence of the room.
Once accomplished, he peeled down his jeans and straightened, standing nude in front of her for the first time.
The stunned expression on her face tightened his whole body to stone. His dick jerked as her gaze landed on it. Danny held himself still, except for his throbbing cock, waiting while she looked her fill.
Her eyes widened, her pink lips parted on quiet gasp. “This is wrong in so many ways,” she whispered, but her hands gathered the fabric around her thighs and pulled up her cotton nightgown, baring her body except for a narrow pair of bikini panties.
Danny’s gaze devoured her full breasts, swept down her softly rounded tummy and clung to the scrap of fabric still shielding her sex. “Take it off,” he growled.
Her fingers shook as she hooked her thumbs along the sides of her panties and slowly rolled them down. When she stepped out of them, she lifted her face, looking more than a little anxious.
“You’re beautiful, Maggie Dermott,” he said, his voice sounding rough to his own ears.
They stood for the longest time, both naked, both staring. Danny wanted to take the first step forward, but needed a little time to plan the best approach to give her the maximum pleasure.
Only he couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.
She was so damn beautiful. Round swells, deep troughs, her body was a little heavier than he remembered, but the curves only accentuated her femininity.
An urgent throb entered in his groin, impossible to ignore. He stepped toward her, slowly lifted a hand, and curved it around her cheek. Then he holding her gaze, he leaned down to capture her lips.
He wondered at how right it felt, sharing their first kiss without a scrap of clothing between them. He lapped at her lips, drinking in her nervous little pants, before stroking the tip of his tongue inside to touch hers. Their tongues pressed together than slid alongside each other, stroking slowly in and out.
He lifted his free hand and gently cupped one soft breast and nearly groaned into her mouth. Softer than anything he’d ever felt, the flesh beneath his palm was warm and quivering with her shortened breaths.
The tip of her nipple dragged across his palm, and urgency gripped him harder. He had to have it in his mouth. Needed to taste her, now.
He lifted his head, spearing her with a glance that told her not to bother complaining, and then knelt on one knee in front of her.
Everything that followed was pure instinct, pure pleasure.
He pressed a kiss between her breasts and nuzzled the sides of both with his cheeks. Then he began to press wet, openmouthed kisses against them, one at a time, as he held both in his hands and gently massaged.
The soft clean scent of her, baby powder and plain soap, a dab of something floral between her breasts, the ripening scent of her moist sex…
God, he couldn’t get enough.
Her hands landed softly on the tops of his shoulders and fluttered like she wasn’t sure where to put them.
He paused, reached up to grab them and lifted them to his head, his palms flattening against the back of her hands to guide her fingers through his hair. “Don’t be afraid to touch me. You can’t hurt me. Pull, if you like. Scratch if you feel the need.”
Her lips curved slowly, and she tugged on his hair.
His eyes half-closed, and his mouth opened around a groan. Then he leaned forward again to finally root at her breast the way he’d always imagined.
She swayed toward him, murmuring something so low he couldn’t make it out, but the soft, desperate edge to her voice burned him, and he opened his jaws wide to suck as much of her rounded breast as he could take into his mouth.
He suckled hard, laving the tip with his tongue inside his mouth, over and over. When her hands tugged his hair to move him to the other, he let her guide him, loving the second breast like he had the first, until her knees buckled, and he rose swiftly to scoop her up into his arms and carry her to the bed.
He crawled onto the mattress without letting her go, taking her to the middle and laying her down before crawling right on top of her.
Lying beneath him, staring up at him, her face was flushed, her lips plump and pink. Her eyelids dipped as though her arousal was already in full-bloom.
He bent to press a quick kiss to her lips. “I’ll try to go slow,” he said quietly, “but I’m not sure I can hold back much longer.”
“Then don’t,” she whispered. “I’m dying to feel you inside me.” Her legs opened beneath him, her knees rising to frame the sides of his hips.
Danny rose on one elbow and leaned to the side, trailing a hand slowly down her belly, before spearing through her curls and sliding his fingers into the moisture gathered between her folds.
Her pussy clasped around his fingers, making sexy, juicy little pulses that had his dick jerking in anticipation. He pulled his fingers away, spread the moisture over the sensitive cap of his cock, and guided himself to her opening.
Settling directly over her again, he prodded her entrance, watching as her eyes closed and her mouth opened around a breathless moan. He stroked the tip slowly in and out, drawing more liquid from her body, until he thought her passage lubricated and pliant enough to take more of him.
Then gathering his knees under him, he ground his teeth together and thrust his cock slowly, all the way inside.
Her hips lifted upward, taking him that much deeper.
He glided straight into smooth, creamy silk. He sucked in a deep br
eath, pausing at the end and letting out a painful groan. Then he began to move, pushing and pulling his cock through honey-coated walls that felt like a gentle, wet fist closing around him.
Her head turned away, her eyes still closed, and she lifted her hands to cup the corners of his shoulders.
Something wasn’t right. She was too quiet, lying too still beneath him. He wasn’t getting it. Wasn’t bringing her along.
He leaned away, making just enough space to slide a hand down her belly, his fingers searching for the nubbin at the top of her sex.
With her labia stretched around his cock, he found the little bump, but wasn’t satisfied it was engorged enough. His thumb pushed up the hood protecting it, and he began to swirl a finger across the top, gauging her comfort with the contact of his calloused finger by the little jerks of her hips, until she settled and began to rock against him.
Then, with his finger gliding over the burgeoning knot, he deepened his thrusts.
Her teeth clamped down on her upper lip, and her head turned deeper into the coverlet beneath her.
“It’s all right, Maggie. Make some noise, baby,” he began to croon. “Let me know when I get it right. I’m here. I won’t let you go. Won’t stop until you scream for me.”
Her head shook, and her face crumpled. Moisture gathered at the seams of her tightly closed eyes.
“Baby, come with me,” he whispered.
At last, he felt a gush of hot liquid seep around his cock, engulfing him in the warm honey spilling from her depths.
Her mouth opened, a small shattered cry tearing from her. Her back arched, her fingernails dug deep into his skin.
Danny gritted his teeth, kept his motions even, unchanging, so he wouldn’t stall her orgasm, waiting while her body trembled and arched, and her pussy clasped around him in gentle convulsions.
When her body relaxed beneath him, he pulled away his hand, and lay down on top of her. He framed her face with his palms, waiting until she slowly opened her eyes.
When her sleepy brown gaze finally met his, he said, “Tell me that’s not the first time you ever had an orgasm with a man.”
Chapter Four
‡
Maggie’s eyes widened.
As though she’d just been dashed with cold water, the warm, lazy lassitude she’d experienced was gone in an instant.
What had she just done? How could she have abandoned every bit of common sense and propriety she’d prided herself on and invited herself into this cowboy’s bed?
She inserted her hands between their bodies and shoved. “Get off me.”
His heavy body didn’t budge.
Still pinned beneath him, his cock locked inside her, she squirmed as panic began to consume her.
How had he guessed he’d been her first? What business was it of his? If she allowed him to question her, to wheedle the truth from her, she felt as though she’d betray Douglas. And wasn’t she just as much at fault?
“Get off me,” she repeated, continuing to push.
“Maggie,” he began, and then encircled her wrists and pushed her hands up to rest on either side of her head.
She continued to wriggle beneath him, planting her feet in the mattress to get more leverage to buck him off, but he rolled his hips from one side to the other, capturing her legs one at a time beneath his.
When she was completely blanketed, unable to move, growing breathless with her fruitless struggles, only then did she fall still. “Why are you doing this?” she gritted out, unable to meet his steady gaze.
“I asked you a question.”
“One I’m not willing to answer. It’s none of your business.”
“Probably not, but I think you need to let it out.”
“Who made you Dr. Phil?”
His lips twisted into a wry smile. Yet his eyes darkened, a sadness entering his expression that was just too hard for her to face.
She closed her eyes. “This…with you…it’s just…”
“Just what? Just fucking?”
She winced, opened her eyes and turned her head aside to avoid his gaze. Fucking him hadn’t felt as intimate as this. “Yes. That’s all it can be. You don’t have any right to ask about my life with my husband.”
“He’d dead, Maggie.”
“It’s not fair to him. I won’t speak badly of him. He was a good man.”
“But maybe not such a good husband?”
“Just because he never—”
He grunted. “He didn’t care enough to make sure you were happy.”
“I wasn’t…unhappy.” She spoke the lie, knowing her hesitation gave away her doubts.
Danny sighed so deeply, she felt the ragged exhalation shudder against her chest. “Tell me.”
Maggie slowly turned her head, tears welling at the concern etched in his tight features. Why did he care? His cock filled her, hard and pulsing. Why wasn’t he just taking what she’d offered?
“Maggie…”
The insistence in his voice, the implacable weight pinning her to the bed, told her he wasn’t moving until she shared. “Why can’t you leave it alone? It’s over. Years over.”
He bent and placed a soft kiss beside her mouth then moved back again. “I’m still waiting.
And although she’d never shared her disappointments with another living soul, suddenly, words spilled from her lips. “Damn you, I don’t want to talk about this,” she whispered. Her fingers curled, her nails biting into her palms. “He was older than me. A little set in his ways. He didn’t mind that I didn’t know a gelding from a stallion, wasn’t raised on a ranch, and wouldn’t be any help there. All he wanted was someone to keep his home clean and provide meals for the men.” She blew out a breath. “You know, this might be easier if I could actually breathe.”
“For some ranchers, that’s plenty,” he said quietly, completely ignoring her complaint. However, he did rise on his elbows, lifting a little weight from her chest.
“Thank you,” she replied with a touch of sarcasm. “But I always felt like I was getting the better half of the bargain. He worked so hard.” She halted again, swallowing because the rest was going to be hard.
Danny cupped her cheek, and his thumb swept her lower lip, once. “He worked morning to night? Not much time for the two of you to be alone?”
She nodded, glad he understood, because she didn’t think she explained herself very well. Talking was hard when she found herself lying beneath a handsome, virile male. “We tried, at first. We both wanted children. When it didn’t happen, I had to push him to come to the doctor with me. That’s when we discovered he couldn’t get me pregnant. I think he felt…”
“Less like a man?” he asked softly.
She nodded again, keeping her expression set despite the jagged pain shooting through her chest. “We just stopped,” she said, her voice tightening. “I mean, what was the point?”
His eyes gleamed with compassion—so much of it, she found herself blinking away tears.
“The point,” he whispered, “should have been that you two needed each other.”
She gave him a brittle smile. “Well, it didn’t work that way for us. I guess there just wasn’t enough love to work through it. And then he got sick.” She pressed her lips together and turned away. “Are we done?” she asked dully.
His hand smoothed over her hair, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Well, now I know. I won’t ever make you go there again.”
Now that she’d gotten it out, the tension inside her did relax. With his hand still smoothing over her hair, she closed her eyes and pushed against his hand, needing the comfort of his touch.
Gradually, she grew more intensely aware of the heaviness pressing down on her body, and of the unyielding hardness filling her. Her breaths deepened, and a small echo of a tremor rippled along her channel.
“Maggie…?”
“Please,” she whispered.
He murmured something low and deliciously obscene, and then slowly flexed his hip
s, tunneling into her.
Liquid seeped from inside her, easing the hot friction between his cock and her inner walls. “Let me move,” she said, straining her hips against him.
“I can’t hold back,” he ground out.
“I don’t want you to.”
“I wanted to give you pleasure.”
“Later. Let me see yours.”
His features tightened, rich color flooded his cheeks. “You can’t know how good this feels. Me, inside you. Jesus!”
He released her hands and set his on the mattress, rising above her. A knee nudged between hers, and she opened eagerly, lifting her legs to tilt her sex and take him deeper.
His cock withdrew and slid back inside. They both groaned as he filled her, thrusting through her wet heat. He gathered his knees beneath him and began to stroke in earnest.
Unbelievable to her, desire rekindled, sharp and insistent. Maggie slid her arms around his back and smoothed over tense muscle, tracing the deep indentation of his spine, and flowing downward to his hard, round buttocks.
She stared as passion tightened his whole body, transforming him from the considerate lover who’d gently gifted her with her first orgasm into a feral male.
His jaw flexed, his nostrils flared, his gaze held hers as he jerked upward, rising higher on his arms and glancing down between their bodies.
Her glance followed, skimming his rippling chest and arms, trailing down the muscles that bunched along his deeply tanned abdomen, giving her a view of a six-pack she’d only seen in magazine ads.
But that wasn’t what he wanted her to see.
Trailing lower, her gaze caught on the sight of his thick cock, gliding in and out of her body—slick, satiny, coated in smears of white cream. Hers.
A cry forced its way through her tight throat. Her arousal spiked hard, but she couldn’t tear away her gaze, feeling every inch of him cramming inside, dragging outward, then tunneling deep, again and again.
She squeezed her inner muscles around him and watched him pause to savor her clasp. He grunted as he shoved back inside past her pale resistance. Then he began to circle his hips, screwing himself in and out.
The Cowboy And The Widow (Texas Cowboys Book 2) Page 3