by Nan Ryan
Thinking how perfectly their bodies fit together, Brit playfully teased and tormented Anna. He would slide almost all the way into her, then slowly pull almost all the way out. After only a couple of times she was frantically tilting her pelvis up to his and gripping his ribs with her hands, anxious to have him back in her. Pleased with her reaction, Brit made her wait for only a few tense seconds, then he drove deeply into her, giving her all he had, making her take every hot, hard inch of him.
Anna clung to the bulging biceps of her experienced lover and gave herself wholly to him, loving the feel and sight and scent of him. The electrifying sensations touched off in her by his artful lovemaking were both fantastic and frightening in their intensity. She’d had no idea such ecstasy was possible.
His weight supported on his flattened palms, Brit watched the changing expressions march across her beautiful face and promised himself that he would hold back, would keep the pace of his lovemaking slow and easy, for her sake. He wanted, he realized, to bring this beautiful woman to climax again and again before he sought his own.
He shuddered involuntarily at the stark realization that her pleasure meant more to him than his own. Or anyone else’s. He’d made love many times in his life, but he had never cared as much about making a woman so completely happy as he did now.
Perversely, the fact that it meant so much to him kept him from performing as planned.
It was too good.
She was too sweet.
The hot softness so snugly gripping him was already threatening his tenuous control. He couldn’t believe it. He was in danger of losing it, of going over the edge.
Brit quickly closed his eyes so he couldn’t see her beautiful face, couldn’t be pulled into the depths of those fathomless eyes. He tried to distract himself. He guessed the number of cattle in each Regent pasture. He named each division boss who’d ever worked at The Regent. Finally he reminded himself that this silky-skinned beauty stirring beneath him was his adversary, a lying, cheating vixen bent on stealing his inheritance.
It didn’t work.
His climax was coming and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Instinctively, Anna knew what was happening to him and took pride in the fact that she was responsible. She felt a delicious surge of female power and she eagerly accommodated his swift, powerful thrusts, speeding her movements to match his.
His eyes were closed, but hers remained wide-open. She watched in wonder as his release came and his handsome face, already hardened with passion, grimaced as if in great pain. A vein stood out on his forehead; he gritted his teeth and groaned low in his throat.
And as he shuddered in satisfaction, she could feel the hot, thick liquid of love fill her to overflowing.
Spent, Brit collapsed atop her.
Anna sighed with contentment and cradled his dark head on her breasts. He panted heavily, loudly, and his heartbeat was rapid and forceful, pounding against her, through her.
When his breathing began to slow and his pulse decelerated, Brit apologized. “Forgive me, sweetheart.”
“For what?” she asked as he moved off her, stretched out on his back beside her.
He said, “Give me a couple of minutes to rest and I’ll make it up to you.”
Eighteen
It was past two o’clock in the morning.
Only the diehards remained.
Most of the tired, sleepy guests had gone home. But not all. A number of people milled around, visiting the recently refilled buffet tables, eating, laughing, enjoying themselves. Others were scattered about the white-clothed tables beneath the lanterns, drinking, spinning yarns. An orchestra was still on the dais, playing slow, mellow ballads. Several couples leisurely spun about the dance floor.
One of those couples was Sally Horner and Buck Shanahan. Since their first one, they had danced every dance together, and they meant to stay on the floor to the very end.
Shortly after midnight, Sally’s father, the distinguished Jameson Horner, had interrupted the dancing couple to tell Sally to say good-night to Buck and come along, it was time to go home. Sally had strongly protested, not wanting to go, exclaiming that it was much too early to leave.
Buck hadn’t wanted her to leave, either, so he had nervously asked Jameson Horner if Sally could please stay an hour longer. Buck quickly assured the frowning father that he would be more than happy to see Sally home. He could borrow one of The Regent’s buckboards and drive her straight to her house.
Jameson Horner had started to object, but Sally had made a mean face at him, and his wife, Abigail, standing close beside him, had squeezed his arm meaningfully, so he had relented.
Now Sally and Buck swayed languidly on the floor, flirting and laughing, caught up in the first thrilling stages of a budding romance. Both agreed that although they had known each other all their lives, it was as if they were seeing one another for the first time.
“Excuse me again, Buck, Sally.” The red-haired widow, Beverly Harris, stepped up and tugged on Buck’s shirtsleeve.
Sally and Buck both blinked, abruptly brought back to reality. One glance at Beverly Harris and they knew she was furious. The pair stopped dancing, but Buck kept his arm around Sally’s waist.
“Mrs. Harris,” Buck acknowledged. “What can we do for you?”
“You know very well what you can do for me! You can tell me where Brit is. Where is he? I know you know.”
It was not the first time she had asked. Growing increasingly short-tempered, Beverly Harris had spent the last hour anxiously searching for the mysteriously missing Brit.
Buck shrugged broad shoulders, looked over Beverly’s head at the sparse crowd. There was no sign of Brit. “Ma’am, as I told you before, I really don’t know where Brit is, but—”
“He’s been missing for two solid hours!” Beverly declared impatiently.
“Two hours? That’s a long time,” Buck said thoughtfully.
“I went to the house to freshen up. I told Brit it would take only a few minutes and I’d be right back. But when I returned to our table, he was gone,” Beverly complained. “Can you imagine that? Just left me high and dry and never came back! I’ve looked everywhere for him, asked everyone if they’ve seen him.” Her face flushed scarlet and her eyes snapped with anger.
“Well, now, I’m sure he’s around here somewhere,” Buck said, trying to placate her. “He surely wouldn’t have gone off to bed—”
“Bed is exactly where the son of a bitch has gone!” Beverly declared. “The question is, with whom?”
“Now, now, Mrs. Harris, calm down,” Buck cautioned. “Brit wouldn’t do a thing like that.”
“No? How can you be so sure? When did you last see him?”
“Lordy, I don’t remember,” said Buck truthfully. “Sally and I have been dancing for the past couple of hours…” he looked at Sally, grinned, squeezed her waist “…and we kinda forgot about—”
Interrupting, Beverly shifted her narrow-eyed gaze to Sally. “I notice your little friend Anna has been missing since midnight.”
“Has she? I wouldn’t know,” said Sally. “Last I saw of Anna she was at the table with LaDextra, Will Davis and Dr. McCelland.”
“Dr. McCelland left hours ago. LaDextra retired shortly after midnight and Will Davis left a half hour later.”
In a gay mood, Sally smiled at the irate widow and said, “That’s amazing. You know where everybody went and when.”
“Don’t get smart with me, Sally Horner,” Beverly warned. “Where is she? I want to know. Is Anna with Brit? Are they together? You tell me right now!”
Until Beverly had raised the possibility, it had never occurred to Sally that Anna might be with Brit. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen either of them in hours. Could it be that they were together? Had they discovered one another the way she and Buck had discovered each other? Had they slipped away to kiss in the moonlight? She hoped so. She disliked this bossy red-haired widow and thought Brit could do much better.
“
Oh, very well. We just can’t hide anything from you, can we, Beverly?” Sally said, enjoying the stricken look that came to the redhead’s pretty face. “I promised Anna and Brit I’d keep quiet, but what’s the use. You’ve already guessed, so…”
“Then they are together?” Beverly’s voice lifted an octave and her eyes burned with outrage.
Sally didn’t have to verbally confirm. All she had to do was smile as if she knew a delicious secret, and lift her shoulders in a shrug.
“That two-timing bastard!” Beverly hissed, redfaced and shaking with anger. “And that simpering blond bitch! Damn them both to eternal hell!” Muttering under her breath, cursing them both, she stormed away, imagining the worst.
Wondering miserably what the two of them were doing at that very minute.
At that very minute Anna, serenely nude and glowing with happiness, lay on her stomach atop the blanket covering the soft bed of hay. In her right hand was the shiny silver concho she had twisted loose from Brit’s black trousers.
Purring and stretching like a lazy cat, Anna smiled dreamily as Brit tickled and teased her with the fragrant scarlet rose he’d taken from her hair. As he brushed the petals of the rose over her pale, luminous skin, he kissed her bare shoulders and back. His lips spreading wonderful warmth, Brit lay partially atop Anna. One hand was underneath her, cupping her breast, toying with her tingling nipple.
Wiggling and stirring from his fiery kisses, Anna couldn’t believe that she was becoming aroused again. It had been only a few short minutes since Brit had brought her to an incredible orgasm.
And that had been the third time she had climaxed tonight.
The first time it happened had been when Brit had stroked and pleasured her with just his hand.
The second time he’d made love to her fully and she had been greedy in her carnal pleasure, bucking and pitching against him, wanting it, begging for it. And then it had begun, a release so intense she was shattered by the fierce explosion of her body. Waves of incredible fulfillment shuddered through her until she had screamed his name and clawed his smooth brown back with her sharp nails.
When finally she had stopped quivering and went limp in his arms, she had realized that he was still hot and hard. He had not yet climaxed.
Then she’d heard him say in a low, caressing voice, “I’m going to lie here close beside you and kiss you and touch you until you want me again.”
Anna had softly sighed and answered, “I’m sorry, Brit, I don’t think that will happen. You loved me too well. I’m too satisfied, too spent.”
He had simply smiled down at her, brushed a kiss to her temple and said, “We’ll see.”
For a time they had lain there like that, she on her back, limp and blissful, he close beside her, fully aroused and burning. Certain that she was incapable of becoming excited again, Anna was passive and pliant as Brit worked subtly at arousing her.
Totally tranquil, an indolent Anna had allowed him to kiss and nuzzle her, not actually participating herself. She couldn’t. She was simply too tired, too content. He didn’t seem to notice or mind. Kissing her parted lips, murmuring words of passion in the darkness, he soon moved between her legs and slowly, gently penetrated.
After a long moment to allow her to adjust and relax, Brit wrapped a hand around the back of her right leg and urged the leg up until her knee was pressed against her chest. Then he pushed her left leg outward at a cocked angle.
Anna was shocked at how this new position made her more acutely aware of his hard flesh throbbing inside her. Her sweet lethargy swiftly subsided and she exhaled heavily. She bit her lip when he drove forcefully into her, and she felt her entire body rapidly starting to heat.
“Brit. Brit,” she breathed, as he adroitly slid her bent knee up over his shoulder.
It was the strangest of sensations, having one leg raised and draped over his shoulder, the other stretched out and cocked to one side. And then he began the slow, rhythmic movements of lovemaking and Anna knew why he had positioned her like this. She felt as if she were open wide to him and therefore able to take more of him in.
She relished it.
And she relished it even more when he primitively pounded into her, conquering her with deep, commanding strokes. The powerful throbbing of his rhythmic thrusts matched the savage beating of her heart. The hot, still air was filled with the perfume of love as they ascended toward that waiting sexual nirvana.
Her body now blazing hot, Anna gripped and squeezed her lover, determined that this time she would take him with her to paradise. But before she realized what was happening, it was happening. She was spiraling up toward total ecstasy again and there was nothing she could do to stop it or even slow it down.
“Oh, Brit, I—I…”
“I know,” Brit murmured, pumping fervently into her. “Let it happen, baby. God, you’re so sweet, so beautiful when you come.”
His words triggered her already threatening release. She felt great explosions of white-hot heat, and the rising ecstasy was so unbelievably potent, she was frightened by its intensity. Tears sprang to her eyes and she screamed as the final burst of pleasure detonated deep in her belly and spiraled outward.
It was several long minutes before she realized that, once again, Brit had not attained fulfillment. She had supposed that he had because he’d slipped off her and stretched out on his back beside her. So she had been astounded when, her breathing finally returning to normal, she had sighed, turned, looked at him and seen that his erection was still fully formed and resting on his belly.
Frowning, she lifted her eyes to his face. “You didn’t…?”
His answer was a smile, a quick kiss and a request for her to turn over and stretch out on her stomach.
So now she lay here on her stomach, squirming and sighing, clutching the silver concho, as the fiery lick of Brit’s tongue brashly dipped into the beginning crevice of her bare buttocks. While he kissed her there, he laid aside the red rose and slid his hand down her stomach to explore and excite her.
She gritted her teeth when his lean fingers went between her legs to touch and tease. Breathlessly Anna surged against that insistent hand, and she emitted a strangled little cry of shocked delight when he playfully bit the pale rounded cheek of her bottom.
Anna came up on her elbows when he slipped his other hand between her legs from behind. She exhaled shallowly when his hands met and his skilled fingers did marvelous, forbidden things to her that quickly set her afire.
“Wh-what are you doing to me?”
“Loving you,” he said, as his fingers gently caressed that concealed, feminine flesh in an intimate exploration that aroused Anna beyond belief. Her eyes slipped closed and she panted with building excitement.
His fingers caressing, toying, his lips sprinkling kisses over her bare squirming bottom, Brit said huskily, “I want you on top this time, baby.”
“On top?” she repeated dreamily, having no idea what he meant.
“Yes,” he said, “you on top of me.”
Abruptly releasing her, Brit moved off her and lay down on his back beside her. Anna levered herself up onto her knees and sat back on her heels, unsure what he wanted, still ignorant to the many ways of making love.
“Come here to me,” he said, and put out his hand.
Reaching for her, Brit effortlessly lifted her astride his hips. He sat her down atop his supine body, then he raised his arms and folded them behind his head. “Mount me, sweetheart,” he said. “Easy. Slowly.”
Anna gave him a puzzled look. “We can make love in this position?” she asked innocently.
“With great pleasure,” he assured her. “Rise up onto your knees.” Anna went up on her knees and looked to him for further instruction. “Now take me, baby. You do it so we can go at a pace that’s acceptable to you.”
Anna nodded.
Finally she put aside the silver concho she’d been gripping tightly in her palm. She laid the shiny disk on the hay beside them, then wrapped a
soft, warm hand around his immense erection. Bottom lip caught between her teeth, she gingerly guided him up inside her.
Both sighed simultaneously as she slowly lowered herself down on him. She gasped and he groaned as he penetrated deep inside her. For a long moment, neither moved. Brit waited, not wanting to hurt her, allowing her the opportunity to settle herself comfortably on him before he began the actual movements of loving. As she enveloped him in her warmth and sweetness, Brit gazed at her through lowered lids and felt his heart hammer in his chest.
The sight of her, naked and fragile, seated astride him, was an image he would never forget. She was perfect in every way. Her skin was like alabaster. Her hair like gold silk. Her breasts were soft and round and topped with satiny pink nipples. Her waist was small, her hips gently flared.
And between her thighs, where her body joined his, a down-soft cushion of golden curls was now intimately meshed with the blue-black hair of his groin.
Brit’s arms came from beneath his head. He laid his hands lightly on her thighs and sighed with exquisite pleasure when she began to slowly gyrate her hips. Anna licked her lips, arched her back and flung a hand up to her forehead. Her thighs tightened on his waist and she moaned, wanting him to do more, wanting him to move inside her.
Brit read the message and began to unhurriedly thrust into her, giving them both a quick rush of sweet ecstasy. Soon they were moving together rapidly, their rhythm almost frantic. Anna rolled her hips and rode her lover with wild abandon. Brit thrust his pelvis upward, impaling her deeply, and watched the delightful dance of her breasts, the swish of her unbound hair, as she bucked and bounced on him.
God, she was a wonder.
A beautiful, wild, wanton creature with no inhibitions, and he wished he could keep her like this forever. Naked and passionate and impaled upon him. He wanted time to stand still. Wanted the two of them to be caught forever in this magical state of building bliss. Yet he knew that nothing this perfect could last.