Released to Rapture (Irresistible Inmate)

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Released to Rapture (Irresistible Inmate) Page 3

by Jean Baker


  His mood dropped with the sun and became as dark as the sky in the east. Anchored to the ground where he sat, he couldn’t force himself to move. He remembered and relived everything that passed between him and Goldie. She hadn’t been affected as much as he, but by God, she didn’t find it easy to let him go. A spark of hope entered his mind. If he went back, she might let him stay. His heart dropped again. Should his past come to light, it would be the end. Forget it and move on.

  Instead, he unwrapped the meatloaf sandwich he’d grabbed on the way through the kitchen. His throat tightened until it felt as though he ate rocks. He washed it down with Coke, squashed the can and threw it across the road. Tucking his shoes under his arms, he stood, and hiked down a corn row toward Goldie.

  By full darkness, he reached the barn. Animals stirred, whinnied, grunted, and clucked. Pressing against the barn, he stared toward the house. In the warm light of the kitchen, Goldie sat at the table with her parents. He reached in the waist of his pants and adjusted a hard cock from its painful position. Jesus, all I have to do is see the woman, and I turn into a column of fiery need. Exhaustion overtook him. So he went in the barn, hoping to find a place to sleep.

  A smidgen of moonlight shined through a hole in the roof. I’m going to fix that, if I stay. The huge, old-time barn had a wide, center aisle down the middle and stalls either side, with an enclosed area at the back. Mid-way the aisle, he stumbled over a pile of hay and realized feed had been forked from above. Okay, where’s the ladder? Fumbling around with his arms outstretched, his hands hit the illusive steps. Perfect. Once in the loft, the light improved, and he smiled at a stack of bailed hay. He loosened enough from one large cube to make a comfortable place to sleep and fell into it with a grunt of pleasure.

  A movie played against the blackness of deep sleep. Why was a woman in his wheat field? She sauntered away from him, her naked back covered in a fall of black hair. Her rounded ass swiveled as she disturbed the wheat into waves of gold. His eyes fixated on the movement and his cock hardened. A tornado of animal lust consumed his body. My wheat, my woman. Soundless, he raced after her, his cock pulsing painfully. Only a few feet to go. She glanced over her shoulder and raced away, as fleet as a deer. The need to push into her body burned into his mind and body. He dropped to four feet and bounded after her. A vision of mounting her caused his steel rod and clenching balls to react. As he ran, they emptied in spasms onto the wheat.

  Oh God, she’s getting away. Heavy muscles in his flank forced him forward, his hooves cut into the soft earth. Although aware he remained a man, the pleasure of being a wild animal overtaking his mate caused every rigid muscle in his body to react. Almost on her. Before he leapt, his cock enlarged, ready to take her. Airborne, he overtook her, threw her forward onto her face into the wheat. He tried to force his cock into her weeping, ready sex. But she struggled to throw him off her back. Winding his hand through the black strands of her mane, he jerked her still and, raging with the mating fever, he tried to force himself into her.

  She sobbed, cutting through his frenzy. Her head turned, her emerald eyes glaring. “You must kiss me first,”

  With a man’s arms, he flipped her over. With a man’s legs, he forced her to open to him. His burning mouth descended onto her soft lips, and she swallowed his growls and offered her tongue. He sucked it into his mouth. At the same time, he plunged into her depths. She screamed into his mouth. Her hips elevated, inviting more. His hips drove his cock deeper and harder. Her cunt bit down and contracted around his member. Nails clawed his back—teeth latched onto his bottom lip. The pain drove him into an explosion of continuous ejaculations. She matched his every move, and her juices joined his. Screaming, screaming—what?

  His chest pumped, fighting for oxygen. A straw dangled from his mouth—his face was buried into a mound of hay. The orgasm over, his cock continued pumping. It took a moment for Duncan to realize he lay in a barn, having the best wet dream of his life. Oh, shit, my jeans! His hands covered his crotch. Thank goodness, somehow, he had managed to take them off before shooting off. Damn, how much cum could a man produce. An awful lot, it seemed. His eyelids drooped as his mind processed remembrances of how many times he’d ejaculated since arriving at this farm. He had gone from a disinterested, worn man to a raving teenage sex machine in one day. A grin spread across his face, and he fell asleep.

  Goldie staggered into the kitchen and fumbled for the coffee pot. She rubbed her eyes and looked at the wall clock. Damn. Two hours past time for Bessie’s milking. It had been a rough night filled with wild sexual dreams. With a mental kick in the butt, she thought yesterday had provided enough wild and wonderful sex to last her ten years. A vision of Duncan’s eyes lighting with the heat of sexual need made the core of her body burn. She groaned. I’ll never find anyone like him again who’s also self-supporting and acceptable in the tight social circles within which I live.

  She poured a cup of coffee and glanced out the window. What! Her horse stood behind the tractor, reins tied to the equipment, eating from a bucket. Her coat glistened, golden in the sun, and her mane and tail fell in smooth strands of silver. Goldie had forgotten how beautiful her mare could be. What nerve. Someone intended to steal her horse and had the damn audacity to clean her up first by using the farm’s equipment and water. Jerking the pantry door open, she grabbed her double-barrel and ran out the door. Jogging across the yard, awareness of things out of place pierced her mind.

  Stopping dead in her tracks and dropping the shot-gun to her side, she stared. The mess of fire wood was now a neat stack. Someone had cut all the weeds and grass around the fence of Baby’s pasture. Farm debris, scattered around the major barn, had been removed. Duncan! She tried to be angry, but found it difficult with a wide smile on her face. Mumbling and cursing came from inside the barn and she tip-toed inside. He sat on a stool, his head pushed into Bessie’s side. Very little milk hit the bucket. “Damn it, this can’t be a difficult thing to do. Cow, you aren’t cooperating.”

  “Oh, I’m surprised. I thought you were an expert with breasts.”

  Duncan leapt up, knocking the pail over. His eyes wide, he threw up his hands. “Please don’t shoot.”

  Goldie dropped the muzzle to her side and began laughing. After catching her breath, she said, “I’m so happy you came back.” Her mouth trembled. “I had a miserable night believing I’d never see you again.”

  The milk bucket, caught by his foot, almost threw him into her arms. He kicked it away, grasped her by the waist and swung her around. “Thank God and everything holy. I shouldn’t have let you send me away.” Holding her tight against his body, he covered her mouth and kissed until he could no longer breathe and broke away. She placed her hands on either side of his face and pulled him back to her lips and swirled her tongue over his lips.

  They eventually parted and she asked, “Did you sleep here?”

  His thumb jerked up toward the loft.

  “I’ll race you up.”

  Once upstairs, Duncan picked her up and stretched her out on his bed of straw. His eyes burned through her clothes. “Your folks?”

  “Both sleeping.”

  He dropped to his knees beside her, his cock pushing his pants straight out. “I intend to start at your toes and kiss every inch of you.”

  Goldie smiled up at him, licking her lips. “We don’t have much time, so let me take care of things.”

  His brows arched.

  “Lie on your back, please, and put your hands behind your head.”

  After some hesitation, he did as she asked. “Are you going to punish me for coming back?”

  She straddled his knees and unzipped his jeans. His cock leaped forward. As she pulled his pants down, her tongue traced the underside of his erection, giving special attention to the tender spot right under its crown. Duncan’s back arched and he moaned. Down came his hands and slipped through her hair. “Uh uh,” came from around his cock, and she motioned for him to put his hands back behind his head. Suc
king hard, she slid her mouth down to the base of his erection. Clutching it, she dropped her head between his open legs and sucked a testicle into her mouth, rolling it around with her tongue. Then she graced the other one with tender affection, while her hand stroked his rod faster and faster.

  His hips moved in time with the movements of her hand. “Oh, my God. Sweetheart, move. I’m about to lose it.”

  With a quick movement, her mouth covered his cock. One arm reached between his legs, gripped his ass and held him tight against her face. He lost control and seized her head and plunged into her mouth. She began sucking and swallowing, pulling everything he had from his raging body. He pumped his essence deep into her throat, crying out and moaning.

  His arched back collapsed into the straw bed. Breathing like a freight train, he tried to speak, but couldn’t.

  She straddled his waist and smiled down at him in female victory. She had ravaged, taken, and overcome. Never had she felt such power. But then, she’d never serviced a man this way before.

  He pulled her down and gently kissed her lips. His eyes flared. “First time I’ve ever tasted myself.” His face blazed.

  She chuckled. “Good, hmm?” He seemed stuck for something to say. “I’m going inside and start breakfast. Give me about thirty minutes and come in, please.”

  “Your parents?”

  “Yes, if you intend on hanging around, you have to pass Dad’s muster.”

  “Kinda nervous before—now you’ve scared the hell out of me.”

  “Am I worth it, or not?”

  “Hell yes, but it doesn’t do a thing for my nerves.”

  She shimmied down the ladder and headed for the house, brushing strands of hay from her body.

  Biscuits were in the oven, bacon fried, and Goldie whipped eggs as Susan walked in. “Oh, honey, something smells so good. Pulled your dad and me right out of bed. What time is it?”

  “Ten thirty.”

  Her father strode through the kitchen. “Here on the old farm, being a sluggard makes me feel right guilty.” He jerked the back door open. “Pretty day. Let’s leave the door open. My God, what happened out here?”

  Susan joined him, her eyes following his. “Oh, things look nice. Goldie, did you have a genie visit while we slept?”

  Clinton asked, “Why is Baby tied to the tractor? And, where’s the stallion?”

  Goldie’s throat tightened. “A genie is shoveling out her stall. I sold Jumper.”

  “Why did you do that? Jumper is a fine horse.”

  “Without Leven around to ride him, he became too wild for me to handle. Besides, I needed the money.”

  She glanced in the oven. The biscuits were browning, so she poured the prepared eggs into oil from the bacon. Come on, Duncan, get your butt in here. She stirred the scrambled eggs with one hand and pulled the bread from the oven with the other. Flipping the pan, the biscuits tumbled onto the counter. Her mother joined her and put them in a bread basket.

  Clinton stepped from the door. “Come take a look, Susan. I do believe Goldie’s genie is strolling this way. No, he turned back.”

  Goldie raked the eggs into a bowl and joined her parents.

  Duncan turned the spigot on and washed his face and hands. His stomach tensed after glancing at the man standing in the kitchen door staring at him. God, he was big. Filling a water bucket and taking it to Baby to kill some time, he took a deep shuddering breath. Chill, man, nothing worse can happen to you than you’ve already experienced. Yeah, but the future I hope for is probably at the mercy of Goldie’s father. He scratched between the horse’s ears, spun around, mentally kicked his own butt, and ambled to the house as if he had not a worry in the world.

  As he fought to keep his chin up, Goldie pushed past her father onto the porch and stood waiting for him. “Put a move on it, Duncan, breakfast is getting cold.”

  Damn, she sounded like a wife. My woman. His body relaxed and he smiled.

  He took a deep breath and stepped onto the porch. Goldie waved her hand toward him, saying, “Duncan meet my parents, Susan and Clinton Stanton. Mom, Dad, Duncan—”

  To cover her stumble, he held out his hand to Mr. Stanton. “Duncan Elvery, sir.” He ducked his head to Susan. “Ma’am.”

  Goldie led them into the kitchen. “Okay, guys. Take a seat. Mom, I’ll fill the plates and you can serve.” Once everyone was seated, Goldie joined them, placing the basket of biscuits in the middle of the table.

  Clinton took two biscuits and smeared them with butter. “Son, have you ever feasted on my girl’s biscuits?” Duncan shook his head. “Take one. They’ll make your stomach jump up your throat to get ‘em before you can swallow.”

  “Oh, heck. Forgot the coffee.” Goldie jumped up, placed cream and sugar on the table, and filled everyone’s cup. Her hands shook.

  Susan glanced at her daughter and held up the creamer. “Take cream and sugar, Duncan?”

  “No, thank you, ma’am.” He felt his face heating. For God’s sake, stop blushing like a kid.

  The woman smiled and patted his wrist. Damn, just like she thinks I am a kid.

  It became quiet for a moment while everyone ate. Duncan buttered the top of a biscuit and looked across at Goldie. Her eyes were fixed on him. Dropping his eyelids, he looked through his lashes and slowly licked the butter from the bread. She grinned and glanced at her mother.

  Clinton took a swipe at his mouth with a napkin. “When did you start working this morning, Duncan? You managed to do a hell of a lot of work before we managed to get up.”

  “As the sun rose.”

  “Good. Like a regular farm boy.” He forked the last of his eggs in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed, his eyes still on Duncan’s face. “How’d you end up here?”

  “Actually, your brother, down at the store, pointed me this way.”

  “And before that?”

  Duncan stilled his heart, took a deep breath, and said, “Simply enjoying the sights while hitch-hiking. Became tired. Wanted to stay in one place for a while. A farm in particular.”

  “Why a farm? Doesn’t city life appeal to you?”

  “Farming’s what I know—what I love.”

  Clinton’s attention went to his daughter. “Where’s Jumper?”

  “Uncle Carl bought him.”

  Susan laughed. “Carl will break his back on such a wild beast.”

  “Speaking of which, wife, let’s go down to the store and visit with Carl. Duncan, when I get back, we’ll do a tour of the farm. I worked this place for almost fifty years and know a few things you might find helpful.”

  His wife stood and began gathering the dishes. “Clint, give me a minute to help Goldie clear the kitchen.”

  “No, Mom. Run along with Dad—it won’t take me long to clear.”

  Duncan stood by the sink and watched Goldie’s parents leave. He sighed in relief. Goldie laughed and put her arm around his waist. “It wasn’t really bad, was it? I think Dad likes you.”

  “Yeah, but Mama gave me the hairy eyeball.”

  “My smart mom knows a looker if she sees one.”

  He grunted. “Wasn’t that kind of look. She’s a sharp one.”

  “I’m their only child and they’re very protective. That often caused a problem with Leven. It’s good they moved to Arizona even though I miss them like crazy.”

  She turned away from the window, and he enveloped her with his arms. “Now they’re gone, I can feast on your biscuits.” He grinned while his hands cupped her breasts and gently squeezed. Pushing his pelvis against her, he thought, well, my man, it’s good to see you can still raise your head. You’ve lain dormant for the past hour.

  Goldie punched his chest and giggled. “Thought I’d fall out of the chair when Dad asked you if you’d had any.”

  “Well, I can tell the good man your biscuits are warm, toasty, and perfect for my mouth.” His thumbs circled the upright nipples. She knocked against his now upright cock.

  She pulled his head down and brushed his mou
th with her lips. “Mr. Eveready, I think you better go out and see about Baby. She’s still tied to the back end of the tractor.”

  He clamped down on her mouth with a thorough, deep kiss. Then he stepped back. “Slave driver.” Heading for the door, he began whistling. His steps bounced as he aimed for Baby.

  After the kitchen had been cleared, Goldie picked a pan of green beans from the garden and sat on the porch snapping them. A noise caught her attention and she looked around. Baby was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes searched the paddock—no Baby. Hooves pounding down the driveway grabbed her attention. Jesus, Baby ran away. She jumped up, shaded her eyes with her hand and gasped. Shirtless, Duncan rode, hell-bent-for-leather, bareback atop Baby, his black hair ruffling and Baby’s silver tail streaming behind him. It was the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen. Tears puddled in her eyes. My God, I have lost the last of my heart.

  Her father’s Silverado followed the horse, and another truck came behind. Baby stopped by the barn and Duncan sailed off, his head thrown back in laughter. Clinton and his brother, Carl, stood together and watched the man, who remained unaware of his audience, hugging Baby. Carl said, “Ain’t that a sight. He’s a man born for riding.”

  “Yeah. I wish he’d been on Jumper. He’s the man for that crazy-ass horse. I don’t know why I bought him for Leven. He was leery of him and didn’t ride him enough.”

  “Got that right, my brother. He was a soulless wimp and Jumper knew it.”

  Clinton sighed. “I hoped he would ride with Goldie—she loves riding so much. Wasted effort on my part.”

  Goldie held her breath and watched Duncan’s reaction to the conversation. Except for a small smile, he ignored the men as he brushed Baby. She turned her attention to her mother, who took the steps up to the porch. “Sweetheart, he’s one damn good-looking hunk, if I’ve ever seen one.”

  “Mom! I can’t believe you said such a thing.”

 

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