Rescue Me (Butler Island)

by Nikki Rittenberry

  “Is it Grant?—Kendall?”

  “No.”

  “Work?—your boat?”

  Randall subtly shook his head. “No.”

  Lana placed her palm over her chest and asked, “Is it me?” She waited a few long beats for Randall to dismiss her as the subject of his fury, and when he didn’t outright deny the notion immediately, she knew she was getting closer to the core of his anger. “Did I do something wrong?—something to offend you? Because you barely spoke two words to me tonight—I just don’t get it! Please, Randall, talk to me…”

  Randall groaned deep in his throat, running his hand through his black hair before placing it low on his hip again. “You really want to know?” he questioned gravelly. “Because once it’s out there, I can’t take it back.”

  She hesitated for an instant. “Yes.”

  Taking a deep breath, he gathered his courage, ignoring the whisper of forewarning clutching his tongue. He couldn’t live like this anymore, couldn’t pretend he wasn’t feeling what he was feeling.

  “You drive me crazy”, he began. “It takes every ounce of will power I have to keep my hands off you. Every time I’m with you, I want to touch you…

  “I want you, Lana—so bad, sometimes it’s hard to breathe. I want to do things to you”, he murmured as he slowly walked toward her, halting when their bodies were inches from colliding. “Dirty things…”

  Chapter 15

  Lana drew in a rapid breath. He eyed her carefully, searching for any signs of anger or disgust. Shock had widened her eyes a bit at first, but mere moments after the words had left Randall’s mouth her expression softened, revealing she was not only curious, but eager about what he had in mind.

  When the massive lump finally dislodged from the back of her throat, she swallowed hard, whispering her plea. “Show me…”

  She was killing him—fucking killing him—nibbling on that plump bottom lip, her eyes clouded with so much desire he went instantly hard. More than anything he wanted to scoop her up and devour every inch of her beautiful body, but he needed to know—without question—that this is what she truly wanted.

  No regrets.

  “Are you sure about that, Sweetheart?” “He asked as the pad of his thumb caught her bottom lip, tugging it downward. “Because once I start, I won’t be able to stop…”

  Their eyes met and held, the sound of their heavy breaths echoing, curling around them. This was it, he thought to himself: the moment of truth.

  Randall had finally confessed the depth of his desire for this beautiful, fascinating woman. She was now aware of the anguish he endured when she was near and no matter what she decided tonight, he’d have to accept it. Steeling his spine, he waited, aware that the course of his future lay in the hands of a woman he didn’t deserve.

  Lana’s mouth opened then closed. She couldn’t find her voice, couldn’t seem to move her mouth to form the words and enunciate them. The need to feel Randall’s hands on her body was so intense, it nearly paralyzed her. She was frozen, yet so incredibly ablaze with heat she feared she’d spontaneously combust. With her voice on temporary hiatus, she did the only thing she could. She nodded her head, giving Randall carte blanche over her eager body.

  Randall was one-hundred-ninety-five pounds of raw flesh. Damaged. Completely unworthy of the beauty that stood before him, but damn if that didn’t stop him from taking what she was altruistically giving.

  Palming the sides of her angelic face, Randall lowered his mouth over hers. The moment their lips touched, a surge of electricity arced, zipping down his spine, expanding, thrumming through him. And when Lana’s lips parted on a sigh he ceased the opportunity, sweeping his tongue along hers. Answering the need that’d been stifled inside him for far too long.

  Slowly he backed her into the hallway while their tongues tangled and tasted. He had every intention of taking her to his bed, but when his bare shoulder brushed against the cool surface of the wall the sheer craving he harbored for this woman halted him.

  Turning slightly, he sandwiched Lana between his body and the wall, bracing his left hand against the smooth white plaster beside her head while his right began wandering. His calloused fingertips traced the contour of her shoulder, the outer curve of her round breast, finally coming to rest at her narrow waist. Her body was lean, but still soft and curvy in all the right places. She felt good pressed against him—and it was then he wondered what it would feel like to have her naked body mashed against his.

  Tearing his lips from her luscious mouth he raised his head, gazing at her pretty face through hooded eyes. “Do you trust me, Sweetheart?”

  “Yes”, she whispered without pause.

  Randall’s heart thumped an extra beat, striking the center of his chest with a heavy thud. He didn’t deserve her trust. Her unyielding faith in him was a priceless gift, one he knew she didn’t readily give—at least not since that fateful day last May. He had no right to take what she’d so generously offered him, but damn if he was strong enough to resist the temptation hidden beneath the thin cotton of her dress.

  “Put your hands above your head”, he commanded gravelly. He waited while she complied with his demand, Lana’s eyes never veering from his laser-like stare as her arms skidded along the wall, stretching toward the ceiling. Slowly, he gathered the hem of her dress in his fists, hauling the soft material up over her hips, past her waist, beyond her perfectly round breasts until the thin white cotton had cleared the bright red polish on her dainty fingertips.

  Lana was paralyzed, her hands still positioned above her head. She flinched the moment the warm skin on her back pressed against the cool plaster behind her, but that was quickly forgotten when she realized she was standing in a pair of brown cowgirl boots, pale pink satin panties and a sage lace demi-bra. She ought to feel embarrassed—if she’d known earlier what she knew now, she’d have put more thought into matching her undergarments. But the hunger in Randall’s eyes soon put her mind at ease.

  She watched as two assessing gray eyes perused her body, his heated gaze searing her sensitive skin as it carved a perpetual path down the midline of her small frame.

  “Jesus…I’ve died and gone to heaven”, she heard him mumble under his breath a second before his mouth landed against her lips again. Tongues collided: steadily tasting, exploring, grappling tenderly. And although technically this was only their third kiss, they found an easy, unhurried rhythm.

  The backs of Lana’s trembling hands gradually slid down the wall as the passion unfurled; unsure what to do with them while he seduced her mouth, she kept them pressed against the cool plaster on either side of her head.

  This was so much more than a casual kiss—more than a simple means to an end. It conveyed something deep and powerful and aspiring. She’d never felt so precious. So desired. Warning bells sounded in her brain, but the utter pleasure mounting inside weakened her resistance.

  Don’t think—don’t worry—just feel—just enjoy…

  Torn between devouring her hungry kisses and exploring the hidden gems he’d unearthed minutes earlier, Randall peeled his lips away from her mouth once again, ready to delve into a sensual adventure he’d likely relive in his fantasies for years to come.

  Lazily he tasted his way down her vanilla-scented neck, over the ridge of her collar bone until he reached the swell of her soft breasts. Without hesitation Randall tugged on the delicate cups until two hard pink nipples suddenly spilled over the lacey edges, just like he’d done countless times in his vividly-erotic fantasies.

  The moment his hot, wet mouth settled over her left nipple she sucked in a shaky breath, arching her back in an effort to communicate how impossibly good it felt. Her entire body was ablaze and with every swipe of his slick tongue, every slight nip of his teeth, she surrendered to the exhilarating pleasure pulsing through her veins and pooling between her thighs.

  “Tell me what you like, Sweetheart”, she heard him mumble against her breast before he sucked her nipple back into his hot m
outh again.

  Lana moaned, the back of her head aimlessly rolling over the wall behind her. “This”, she uttered breathlessly. “I-I like this…” She felt his smile against her skin and then he was on the move again, paying homage to the other side before shifting lower. Her stomach quivered as his mouth skimmed down the center of her body.

  Slow.

  Painfully slow.

  And when he reached her navel, a groan—deep and pure male—ricocheted off her tummy, causing a shiver to work its way over her feverish skin.

  The discovery of her pierced belly button sent Randall’s body in a tailspin. He could feel the grip on his self-control loosening, slipping through his fingers. He had an inherent hankering for using his brawniness to subdue the women he was intimate with. He wasn’t hardcore—wasn’t in to leather, whips, and torture devices; derived no pleasure from spanking. He wasn’t a sadist, for heaven’s sake! But he tended to use his male strength. Tended to be a bit rough.

  And that’s what frightened him.

  Because the last thing he wanted was to hurt Lana.

  It’d been a while for her—nearly ten months. He needed to stay calm.

  Go slow; she trusts you. Don’t take her selfless gift for granted.

  Randall took a deep breath, kneeling in front of her, memories of his erotic fantasies flashing in his vision. His focus quickly darted to her face. She was breathing hard, trembling—

  And she was watching him.

  The grip on his restraint loosened slightly again. Knowing she was watching, studying, anticipating his next move made his cock ache to be inside her. But not yet, not until he had an opportunity to sample the sweet nectar veiled behind the thin sheet of pale pink satin.

  His eyes trailed down her body as his fingertips hooked underneath the elastic along her hips, slowly drawing them down. Carefully, he helped her step out of them and when the thin barrier had been removed, he ran his hands up the backs of her thighs, tickling, teasing. “Spread your legs a little bit, Sweetheart.”

  He waited while she consented, dragging her boots along the wood floor until her feet were shoulder-width apart.

  Holy mother of God…She was even more beautiful than he’d imagined—and lord knows, he’d imagined plenty over the last three months.

  His eyes followed the narrow landing strip of dark hair, then eased downward where he found her slick with readiness. The dim, cave-like hallway was a mass of shadows, but even in the Cimmerian corridor he was able to discern how primed her body truly was.

  Lana watched as Randall’s tongue lightly brushed over her sensitive flesh, evoking a moan so carnal, so deep, she could no longer keep her eyes open. She unknowingly leaned her lower half into him while the backs of her shoulders pressed into the cool plaster, bracing her quivering frame against the sturdy structure to keep from melting into a helpless puddle of wanton woman. She reveled in the slick velvety texture of his lapping tongue, relished the sounds of his coarse groans as he steadily drove her toward the edge.

  The unearthly end to her torturous pleasure was near.

  So close—just beyond her reach.

  He must have sensed how incredibly close she was, because the next thing she knew he was standing in front of her desperately tearing into a foil package with his teeth. Her body was humming, tingling, as he shoved his faded jeans down his hips. His sex sprang free a moment later, revealing his well-endowed dimensions.

  Oh. My. God!

  Randall knew she’d been mere moments from coming. He couldn’t wait to taste the delicacy on his tongue.

  And he would—but not yet. Because he wanted to feel her slick core pulsing around his aching cock, wanted Lana’s eyes to be solely focused on his while her body gripped him.

  “Hurry... please”, she begged breathlessly.

  His hands shook as he rolled the latex down his throbbing length, the sheer magnitude of how much he craved Lana’s body clearly affecting his ordinarily cool disposition. Randall palmed her sweet ass with his lust-filled fingertips, lifting her, opening her up to him. Their noses touched as he pinned her against the wall with his powerful body. “Are you ready, Sweetheart?” He questioned with a voice so rough—so raw—it sounded as though he’d swallowed sandpaper.

  “Yes”, she breathed.

  The affirmation had barely left Lana’s sweet mouth when he lifted her higher, spearing her hot slippery core with his rigid cock. They moaned in unison as he buried himself to the hilt, her snug center sheathing him like a tightly-laced corset.

  Bracing his left hand on the wall, he nuzzled her neck with the tip of his nose. “Jesus, Lana”, he groaned, struggling to recover his restraint.

  Submerged in wet, heated heaven he teetered on the edge of immoral and good. The raw intensity of lust pounding in his veins wanted release: hard, rough, carnal release. But his decent side—the side Lana so adamantly saw in him—wanted to go easy, slow.

  He wanted to show her he was worthy of the gift she’d proffered, worthy of her body even though deep down he knew he wasn’t. He just needed a few seconds to—

  Lana squeezed her thighs, pressing them into his waist for leverage, then wriggled her bottom in a desperate attempt to garner friction, communicating what she needed, what she craved by way of her body language. Randall sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.

  The woman was killing him.

  But oh, what a way to go…

  “How bad do you want it, Sweetheart, huh? Tell me”, he urged gravelly. “I want to hear it.”

  “Please, I… I want…”

  “Tell me.”

  “I-I need this. I need you”, she whispered.

  The last remnants of Randall’s self-restraint slipped through his fingertips at her honest admission, eliciting bona fide masculine instinct to operate in its absence. Withdrawing from her tight heat, Randall slammed back into her body with a powerful thrust, then another. And another.

  And another.

  Their bodies collided, hearts pounded, and heavy breaths intermixed with moans, groans, and cries of pleasure.

  But he wanted more.

  Wanted to reign over her body, using the size and strength of his solid frame to his full advantage.

  Sliding one of his arms between Lana and the wall, he held her snug against his chest, turning toward the master bedroom at the end of the hall.

  Lana gripped his neck with her arms while her legs squeezed his waist. She wasn’t entirely sure where he was going, only that Randall was hell-bent on taking her with him.

  Like there was somewhere else she’d rather be right now…

  Moments later they entered what appeared to be his bedroom. It smelled like him: a mixture of spicy cologne, coastal winds, and pure man. He turned on the small lamp next to his bed a second before she felt her back press against the soft mattress. There was no time to glance around at her surroundings, no time to probe into what the characteristics of the room said about the man hovering above her, because one look into his glazed-over gray eyes revealed a rabid man, ardently crazed.

  For her.

  The discovery raptured her breath. No one had ever looked at her like that before, like her body was a doubled-edged sword: a total cataclysmic breakdown of his control, and unclouded bliss, piled up into one irresistible package.

  He was still buried to the hilt, hovering while his eyes roamed over her flushed skin. Aside from her lace bra, still askew from his oral reconnaissance in the hallway, and her brown cowgirl boots, she was completely nude. His attentive analysis suddenly allowed whispers of uncertainty to sneak up on her.

  What if he sees my imperfections? My flaws? What if—

  Randall’s body slammed into hers again with such force—such passion—her body slid against the mattress toward the oak headboard. Lana cried out in pleasure, staring up at his captivating face.

  He went still again. She could tell by the way his eyes beamed an impassioned shade of steel-gray, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he sucked air into h
is lungs, and by the way he tightly clenched his jaw that he was holding back. She didn’t want that; didn’t want him to curb his desire.

  Because she wanted him—all of him.

  Every inch, every ounce of what he was capable of. Digging the blunt heels of her boots into the mattress for leverage, she lifted her bottom, grinding her body against his, pleading for him to ease the ache between her thighs.

  Breath hissed through his teeth as Lana seductively rolled her hips, rubbing her slippery core against him. “God, Lana”, he growled, the sound of his voice utterly unrecognizable. What little bit of sanity he had left was blown to bits. Randall sat back on his knees and firmly gripped her hips, plunging into her with as much power as he could muster.

  Lana’s lusty cries urged him on. Every time he sank into her tight heat he became more delirious; thoroughly maddened by how beautiful she looked sprawled across his bed, completely aroused by how fucking amazing she felt speared on his cock.

  Tension swirled low in his groin. He was close, but he refused to go there—not without Lana. Gripping her boots at her ankles, he positioned her legs against his shoulders, then leaned forward a bit, bracing his hands on either side of her head. “Open your eyes, Lana”, he murmured. “I want to watch you when you come.”

  Their new position shifted the angle, allowing him to sink even deeper into her slick channel. He pounded into her body with powerful thrusts, each one meant to drive them higher, further, until they reached the crowning point.

  “Oh, God! Randall!”

  He held off until her inner walls clamped down on his dick, milking him, extracting three long months’ worth of pent up infatuation. His arms gave way as Lana’s legs slipped from his shoulders. Afraid he’d crush her, he braced his upper body with his elbows, loving the sensation of her soft breasts mashed against his solid chest.