by Wick,Christa
“This wasn’t here six months ago,” Trent mused as she led him deeper into the structure.
“Collin wants the farm sustainable with a surplus,” she explained. “There are plans for a second, more commercial, greenhouse. He and Mishka were with the surveyor staking it out when you arrived. Construction starts next month.”
Stopping where the tomatoes gave way to bell peppers, Trent pulled her close. “What about the work you’re doing for the foundation?”
Daniella closed her eyes so she wouldn’t roll them. She shouldn’t have started a normal conversation with Trent when she wanted him naked.
With a sigh, she looked up. “I don’t have to be on site very often to do the work—which I would like to continue doing.”
“Don’t worry,” he teased as she pulled away to lead him deeper into the greenhouse. “I don’t expect you barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. Shoes are optional and you can be pregnant in an office.”
She stopped again, a whole body flush infusing her skin with heat and turning her thighs to jelly.
His lips suddenly against her neck, Trent chuckled. “That’s what people in love do, Dani. They procreate…and practice. Lots and lots of practice.”
He gave her a little nip that curled her toes and then he pulled away.
“What makes you reasonably certain there are no cameras in here,” he asked.
“Did you notice the locks?”
He nodded with professional confidence. “Regular door lock, plus two dead—”
There was just enough moonlight for Daniella to see his mouth twist into a grin.
“Two deadbolts,” he continued. “But the third only locks from the inside.”
“That’s the first datapoint,” she agreed, fingers circling his wrist and pulling him toward an internal boundary of flowering trees.
She stopped just in front of the border and slipped her shoes off. Trent mirrored her action and then they ducked and slipped between two slender trunks.
Feeling the thick, rich grass against the soles of her feet, Daniella let out a sigh. After a few seconds breathing in the naturally perfumed air, she released her hold on Trent.
It was darker within the circle of trees than elsewhere in the greenhouse. She slid her phone out of her pocket and used the flashlight app to find the nearest hanging candle holder. She lit the first tea light then moved on to the next until all twelve in their glass and bronze cages cast a golden glow over the scene.
Turning back to Trent, she saw him looking up at the hanging plants that helped block out much of the moonlight and add another layer of privacy.
When he dropped his gaze and met hers, she experienced another warm flush from head to toe. Once again, he was staring at her like she was the most beautiful, most desirable woman in creation.
“Baby, why do you suddenly look like you want to cry?”
Daniella shook her head, held out her arms and made grabby hands to call Trent close because her throat had become tight for words.
He rushed forward, his worried look disappearing into an indulgent smile. He claimed her mouth with a kiss that was soft at first but quickly turned ardent as her body responded. His hands traveled along her back, caressing and rubbing.
He stripped away the shawl. She worked at his jacket.
A shaky breath filled with anticipation escaped her. Trent echoed the sound, his mouth fastening against the depression just above her left collarbone. His hands surfed under her blouse, tracing the edge of her bra from back to front until he found the closure centered between her breasts.
He groaned, his cock tapping once against the curve of her stomach before he unsnapped the bra and filled both hands with her flesh. A responsive moisture coated her lower lips and her knees started to give out.
Together, their bodies folded, Trent keeping Daniella from landing hard. The grass was cool but dry, the dirt beneath it soft and spongy.
Coaxing Daniella onto her back, Trent hovered above her, kissing at her face and neck, one arm keeping his weight off her and the other surfing her curves.
She reached between them to work the buttons on his shirt. They were small, malicious pieces of plastic and she cursed them inside her head.
“Here, baby,” he offered, straddling her as he settled his weight on his knees and lifted his torso. His fingers worked quickly on the shirt buttons as Daniella tackled the fasteners on his dress pants.
Ah, sweet, merciful Heaven he was so hard on the other side of that zipper. Hard and thick. Her mouth and pussy flooded at the same time.
Conquering the zipper, she reached into the silky briefs and wrapped her fingers around his cock.
Her body vibrated with need, the contractions already running through her core giving her a hard squeeze that lifted her hips, pleasure rolling in a wave that compressed and curled her spine.
“Every night,” Trent confessed, slipping out of reach so he could strip his clothes all the way off. Naked, he settled over Daniella again and teased her with small kisses around the edges of her face. “Every night I’ve thought about this luscious body.”
His fingers skimmed lightly over the fabric of her blouse, tracing one erect nipple as he licked just below her ear.
“I fantasized about sucking these tight buds.”
Another wave of need cascaded through Daniella, her hips, then breasts, cresting.
Biting at her chin, he cupped her mound and squeezed.
“Of feasting mercilessly on this hot, wet pussy.”
She convulsed, a thick outpouring of her cream spreading between her labia.
“Can I do that, love? Can I consume you?”
Her eyes rolled up in her head at the question, a faint mewl of consent crawling its way past the constricting throat muscles.
Trent pushed the hem of her blouse upward, hooking her bra as he went. She squirmed, half assisting, half hindering. When he had her torso bare, he paused to suck at her breasts, starting beyond the nipples that his fingers plucked and pinched.
Daniella exhaled, every last ounce of self-direction leaving her. For that moment, she was his to devour, to stroke and lick and fuck her to a state of mindless nirvana.
His lips sealed around one nipple, roughly drawing it deep into his mouth as he maneuvered one hand between them to unfasten her slacks. His hand plunged beneath the top band of her panties, a groan vibrating against her breast when his fingers found her slippery from her hot juices, the labia extra plump with swollen arousal.
Trent released her nipple with a pop and quickly slid down her body. “I have to taste you now, Dani.”
“Yes,” she answered breathlessly, fingers fumbling to help him get the slacks down her full hips, legs kicking weak and erratic until they were free of the fabric.
Wrapping his hands around the inner curve of Daniella’s thighs, he pushed her wide open and buried his face against the wet, pulsing folds of her pussy. She convulsed, fresh cream slicking Trent’s chin as his tongue and top lip attacked her clit.
She reached down, curled her fingers in the thick black hair. Wanting him all these lonely weeks had been pure torture. Having him now was a different torture, sweet but maddening. She wanted everything at once, his mouth, his cock, his hands, the weight of his torso atop hers, his hard body beneath her as she rode him.
Thick fingers slid inside. Her brain shut down with a meandering groan. Inside and out, he rubbed slow but rough, his tongue firm against her clit and the calloused fingertips massaging the fat, pleasurable bulb of tissue that clung and spasmed at the ceiling of her pussy.
Her legs pressed at his shoulders, her ass squirming tight circles as her muscles milked his fingers, shallow thrusts working him in and out as strangled moans stacked up one behind the other in her throat.
Trent retreated, his mouth abandoning her but not his fingers. He rubbed his bristly cheek against her thigh then kissed the flesh. Lifting onto her elbows, Daniella stared at him with half-shut eyes. Candlelight reflected back at her.
With a hungry growl, he surged forward, forcing her flat again. His arm and hand strained to keep his fingers buried deep within her as he savagely kissed his way from her aching nipple, up to her collar bone, then to her throat and finally her mouth.
His tongue swept in, filling and dominating the space. His thumb landed on her clit and began to grind the swollen pearl to dust. Daniella gasped, hips lifting and slamming as she gripped his shoulders.
Contractions rolled through her pussy, soaking his fingers in her juices, lubricating every inch of her interior in anticipation of the thick invasion of his cock.
When he broke the kiss, she moaned his name, her climax wringing out each letter.
“Please, Trent…”
She forced her trembling thighs wider, her hands surfing down to his hips. She wanted him in her, possessing her completely, filling her with his hard flesh and the hot, stringy jets of his release.
“Please,” she repeated, her legs curling around his tight, muscular ass, her heels digging at him like spurs on a stallion.
Biting at her shoulder, Trent entered with a hard thrust, burying his entire length inside Daniella. Her pussy clutched and clawed, jerking along his shaft. A shudder rolled through him but he kept right on rocking and thrusting, the bites turning to sucking kisses.
Her arms wrapped around his shoulders. She clung to him, her clit dancing in a combination of need and satisfaction, her entire body a bundle of greed that wanted more.
The light from the candles fractured as her vision blurred. She was fucked through and through, both their bodies straining for that last flood of release.
Trent lifted and stared down at her face as his hips took up a bruising rhythm, the thick cock with its punishing head slamming into her, rocking her from the rapacious, twisting mouth of her pussy to the rapidly dilating gate of her cervix.
Her shoulders bounced against the carpet of fresh grass. Her hands seized his hips as she tried to anchor herself to him, to last as long as he lasted, to stay with him in the moment so that they both tumbled together into the pulsing chasm that loomed just out of reach.
Harder he slammed, the force almost punishing, but there was too much pleasure running through her for it to hurt. She cried out, greedy for more, yearning after another slam, another twisting thrust as her clit danced and her pussy sucked at his shaft. The tug was there, pulling at her self-control, unraveling it nerve by nerve.
She sucked a breath in, every muscle seizing save for the complex network of swollen tissue that coiled around his cock, knotting itself tighter and tighter, squeezing and pumping, voracious, insatiable, demanding—
A cry shook the leaves around them, not his or hers, but theirs as the flesh of two bodies molded together. Waves of pleasure collided, changed course, then ever so slowly ebbed until Trent’s chest pressed against her breasts and he buried his face along the curve of her neck.
“Only you,” he whispered then lifted his head to meet Daniella’s shining gaze. “Only you could save me from the dark.”
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Copyright © 2016 by Christa Wick
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