Shaken (Colorado Bold Book 1)

by McCullough, Maggie

  Evan pulled her pajama bottoms over her hips, down to mid-thigh. His fingers homed in on her slick entrance, stroking and teasing her to new heights. Ravenous tremors rippled in waves through her body.

  “Only pleasure, baby.”

  Without warning, his open hand smacked one buttock, the sound loud in the near-empty apartment. A quick spank on the other cheek had her gasping.

  Evan rubbed the sting from the affronted flesh with slow, circular motions.

  A finger slipped through her sodden, desperate opening as he continued tugging on her extended nipples. She wriggled in lewd excitement.

  “Do you really want to throw us away?”

  Anne jerked as his hand landed on one ass cheek and then the other in quick succession.

  Four, she thought. That’s four.

  She lay across his lap, moaned and whimpered, the throbbing of her ass adding to her sensory overload. Her bottom arched into his hand as he soothed and caressed her.

  “Your cute ass is almost as pink as your pajama bottoms.”

  Again, his finger penetrated her, searching for that sweet spot. She moaned and went limp when he found it.

  Her entire body reverberated with sexual need; the dual assaults on her nipples and her pleasure center were serving his purpose. Her breaths came in gasps and whimpers, punctuated with little squeaks of pure arousal.

  “Don’t come, baby. Not yet. Not until I’m finished.”

  He removed his hand from her and administered numbers five and six, started the routine of soothing and teasing again. The nerves in her ass burned with a heat that rivaled the protracted simmer in her loins.

  “What—makes—you—think—I’ll—come,” Anne choked out in-between pants.

  “Oh, you’ll come, baby. That’s a given.”

  Seven.

  She almost came right then and there.

  Eight.

  Her ass was on fire.

  Her pussy was swollen and sodden.

  Her nipples, tender and oh-so-sensitive, throbbed from the relentless stimulation.

  Her clit pounded, aching for his touch, any touch.

  Still he stroked, pulled, and teased. She was going out of her mind. He kept her right on the edge, never doing enough to topple her over.

  Nine.

  She moaned Evan’s name, writhed in carnal abandon on his lap. She waited for the tenth one to fall.

  “Please, Evan.”

  Ten.

  Anne cried out. Oh, God.

  This time, his thumb pressed inside her as his fingers stroked her trembling clit.

  She convulsed, cried out, and with a guttural wail, free fell into a pit of sexual oblivion.

  She jerked and quivered, mindless with release. Evan stroked and tugged until he coaxed every salacious shudder from her limp form.

  “I do believe…I’m going to…find…ways to be naughty,” she panted as she tried to catch her breath. Anne wriggled her butt for emphasis.

  “Show me to your bedroom, baby.” Evan swatted her ass one last time before helping her up. “Unless you want me to fuck you on this table.”

  Anne pulled up her bottoms and led him to her room. He took off his shirt, sat down, and removed his boots and socks. She flashed back to the first time she’d seen him in jeans and nothing else. He was as mouth-watering now as he’d been then.

  Evan walked around her bed, his hands caressing the rounded tops of the low posts of her footboard. “Nice. I like these. They look good and sturdy.” His expression was deadpan as he pulled two dark items from his pocket. “I brought scarves.”

  Anne trembled as he bound one scarf around her wrists and then bound them to one of the posts on the footboard. The other scarf was tied around her head as a blindfold.

  “Clasp the post, baby. You’ll need to brace yourself.”

  Anne did as he instructed. Evan pulled her hips back, urged her to step back from the post so that she was leaning forward.

  He copped a feel of her loose breasts under her tee and teased each nipple to a taut, rigid point. Evan peeled her pajama bottoms over her hips to pool at her ankles. She stepped out of them when Evan urged her feet apart.

  “You remind me of a spirited filly I used to have.” Evan caressed her back, and his hands wandered over her hips.

  Goosebumps broke out all over her. Her nipples tingled.

  “She’d snort and stamp her feet, kick out viciously when my stallion came near. It was a different story, however, when she came into season.”

  His voice soothed and lulled her into an erotic trance.

  “She’d stand, much as you are standing right now, back legs spread apart, tail up, her sex winking, signaling her willingness to accept my stallion.”

  Evan moved one hand to her pussy as he spoke. He separated her labia and stroked between the slick folds. Anne moaned and arched into his hand. Her hips twitched.

  “The scent of her readiness reached my stallion. To my surprise, he seemed to sense she was nervous and did not mount right away.”

  Evan removed his hand from her wet clutch and continued caressing her spine and hips. Then he moved back to her breasts.

  “He snorted and licked her shoulder, her ribs, and her flank. Not just one side; he walked around and did the same on the other side.”

  Evan walked back around to Anne’s right side, still continuing to touch and tweak.

  “I was amazed at the equine version of foreplay. Meanwhile, you could see her becoming more receptive.”

  Evan’s hands were at her bottom again, stroking her into a heated agitation. He walked to her head and held a hand under her nose.

  “I imagine her scent was similar to yours.”

  Anne inhaled her own essence. It was earthy, musky, arousing. Her pussy clenched and released.

  “Finally, it was time to mount her.”

  Anne fidgeted impatiently while he removed his jeans.

  He stepped between her legs. His cock nudged at her slick opening.

  She bucked back at him, desperate for his impalement. Evan entered her, slow and steady, and then stopped. His testicles were snug against her moist heat.

  His breathing was ragged as he fought for control.

  “She stood there trembling and shaking as you are now.”

  He fondled her bare bottom with one hand while the other lay with fingers splayed between her navel and her mound.

  Her naked belly shivered and shuddered with carnal yearning; her breasts hung swollen and aching, nipples extended and begging for attention.

  She did the only thing she could; she used her slick, velvety walls to ripple and contract around his cock, to suction him in, to entice him to plunge into her depths.

  “Fortunately, I have more stamina. It will not be over in one or two thrusts for you.”

  He pulled out and entered oh-so-slowly again. Anne whimpered; her arousal bathed his cock with fluid and velvety convulsions.

  “You do not need to fear this compulsion between us. I get off on having you willing and submissive, trembling with desire, craving my touch.”

  Evan withdrew and penetrated her once more, as slow as before.

  “I want your surrender and capitulation, acceptance of the pleasure only I give you.”

  Evan’s husky declarations stoked the carnal fires burning within her. She moaned as he pulled out and whimpered at his unhurried breach of her defenses.

  Damn the man for his everlasting patience.

  His hand at her belly moved lower, his fingers searching. Anne moaned as he found the sensitive flesh he sought and whimpered in submissive devotion. Every muscle in her body trembled. Her heart beat quickened; the ravenous craving in her loins flamed once more.

  Again, he withdrew…entered…oh-so-slow…paused.

  His cock twitched in anticipation.

  Anne was mewing non-stop at this point, every nerve sensitive, alive, pulsing.

  “You are like that filly, Anne, wanting to run wild and free.”

  Two
fingers captured her turgid clit and massaged the feverish flesh.

  “She needed a bit of discipline, as you do. I’m not going to break your spirit, just tame it a bit, gentle it enough to accept me.”

  Anne’s entire body twitched, wept with animalistic arousal, and milked him incessantly.

  “Are you willing to accept me? Accept us, Anne?”

  Anne choked out a breathy, “Yes.”

  “Yes, what? Remember the appropriate response, Anne.”

  “Yes, Evan.”

  “Who do you belong to, Anne? Who? Answer me, Anne.”

  “I belong to you, Evan. Only you.”

  Her body had been waiting for that admission. That, and Evan’s final thrust, the spilling of his seed in her. She fell into the pit of sexual oblivion, turned into a convulsing vessel, grasping and clutching at him with wicked spasms, intent on wringing him dry.

  He kept with her until the last frantic tremors ebbed and faded from her body.

  Evan removed her blindfold and untied her wrists. He picked her up and deposited her carefully on the bed. The bed dipped as he lay down and pulled her into the comfort of his arms.

  Anne listened to the thump, thump, thump of his heart and rhythmic breathing for several minutes.

  “Evan?” Her voice was breathy and timid.

  “Yeah, baby?” How she loved the low rumble of his voice.

  “Do you think we could go on a real date sometime?”

  A soft, relaxed chuckle was her answer, followed shortly by a masculine snore.

  She drifted to sleep as he held her close to the warmth and stability of his body.

  A Letter From The Author

  Thank you for reading Shaken. This story was inspired by a comment from my husband while we were en route to Laramie, Wyoming. We passed a VW Bug driven by a pretty woman. Instead of remarking on her cuteness, he said with a great deal of sarcasm, the Bug would probably fit in the bed of his truck. Thus the idea for Shaken was born. The story has been expanded and has undergone several edits in order to provide you with the best reading experience possible.

  If you liked Shaken, would you please pop on Amazon and leave a review? I love to hear from my readers.

  If you can’t wait to see more of my writing, I have an entire series of free Hot Flashes and news of my upcoming releases on my website at www.maggiemmcullough.com.

  May you always surrender to the fire.

  Maggie

  Don’t forget to check out my short story, Educating Rena.

  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00W5SWVY8

  Author Bio

  Maggie lives with her husband in rural Colorado. Her two children and three grandchildren live within 30 miles. They love to see the horses and goats when they visit. She works part time for a local insurance agent, happy to have left the stress and long commute of the corporate world behind. When not writing, Maggie enjoys horseback riding and genealogical research. Don’t tell anyone, but she also plays World of Warcraft.