His Wild Blue Rose

by A. J. Downey

  He drew it over his head, grabbing it from the back between his shoulders and hauling it over his head, and the movement was just so powerful, I pressed my thighs together and sucked in a breath as I felt myself flush, my pussy giving a little throbbing ache of Want!. He gave me a reckless sort of grin and reached for me, his arms twining around my waist, bringing me to him his mouth pressing against my chest, just below the hollow of my throat. I wondered if he would go high or low as he walked me the two steps back so the backs of my thighs fetched up against the edge of my bed.

  I plunged my hands into his hair and scraped my nails lightly along his scalp and he growled, his lips parting, his teeth scraping lightly along the top of one of my breasts just above the lace of my bra’s cup. I moaned in answer, my head falling back, my hair sweeping along my lower back and the top of my ass and I shivered from the unexpected sensuality of the sensation.

  Golden was determined to seek out and find every one of my erogenous zones before he went any further in undressing me. I worked at his belt with my hands and shoved them off his hips, his black boxer-briefs a maddening final barrier, hiding him from my sight. I didn’t want to rush, but at the same time I was so impatient, so, for now, I settled with smoothing my hands over every exposed, reachable inch of him.

  His hands dropped to my lower back, tracing along my skin in a feather-light touch that drove me wild and soothed me at the same time. I sucked in a breath and held it as he plucked at the hooks holding my garter belt. He undid them, the lace giving with a little sigh, and he smiled, going to his knees in front of me, staring up at me like I was some kind of personal goddess for him.

  “Sit,” he urged, his voice husky, rough with lust and something that sounded like awe. Surely he couldn’t really feel that way about me, though? Could he? I sank to the edge of the bed and he peeled the garter belt down as I went, unhooking the back on first one side then the other. He did it by feel, his eyes locked on mine the whole time, the intensity in them unlike anything I had ever seen before. Focused, his energy so calm, so stable, I’d never felt anything quite like it. He was in control and I found it a relief to cede what little I thought I had left, laying it in his hands, which were busy gliding one of my stockings down my thigh.

  He leaned in, his eyes still fixed on mine, and pressed a kiss to my knee. His eyes slipped shut and he followed the hosiery’s descent, pressing a line of chaste kisses down my shin, along the top of my foot as he pulled it off, half taking the other with it as the garter was still attached. He laughed and I giggled with him and once we were done, he gave the other leg the same treatment.

  God, he was such a slow tease. I almost couldn’t stand it. He smiled with the devil’s own fire in his eyes, knowing the sweet torture he was putting me through and took my toes into his mouth. I gasped, the sensation was so foreign but at the same time, really nice. I swallowed hard and he placed kiss after kiss back up my leg, walking up the bed with his arms on either side of me, overwhelming me so expertly with his sheer presence that I found myself lying back. He kissed along my stomach, up to my chest, pulling down one of the cups on my bra and taking the nipple into his mouth and sucking.

  I sighed out, my hands flying from the covers to his head, cradling it gently, pulling him to me, my back arching and thrusting more of my breast into his mouth. My head fell back, my eyes closed, and I captured my bottom lip between my teeth as I let out a passion-filled sigh. I shuddered and whatever tension my body held drained from my muscles, and left me loose and compliant beneath him.

  His fingertips traced my collarbones as his mouth migrated to the other breast and gave it the same lavish treatment. His fingers did some walking, sweeping out from my throat, travelling in an upward trajectory to curve around my bra straps, drawing them down off my shoulders. I helped him, bringing my arms out and he continued to feed on my breast, tongue playing along my tight nipple, sending a blush of pleasure through my body and leaving no doubt that I was wet and aching to have him inside me.

  He stood and reached down, helping me to sit up, and he made quick work of getting my bra off the rest of the way. I could see him straining at his boxer-briefs and I hooked my fingers in the waistband, pulling them out from his body and sweeping them down his legs boldly. The backs of my knuckles traversed the rough terrain of the scar tissue that created seams in his left thigh, where he’d been shot.

  He let me undress him, but bent at the waist and hooked his fingers in the waistband of my panties, preventing me from doing anything beyond that just yet. I lay back and pressed my toes into the floor, arching my hips so he could draw them down my thighs.

  He reached down and had me sit back up, but got up onto the bed beside me, walking on his knees so that he knelt behind me before I could do anything. I waited him out patiently as he gathered my hair behind me, up off my neck, and though I couldn’t see, I got the distinct impression he brought it to his nose and breathed me in as he let it plunge through his hands. It swept along my back, cascading against my skin in a cool, silky rush that made me shiver, and I couldn’t think. His lipswere at my neck, working along the side, pinging that erogenous zone so perfectly, so completely, all thought fled before the onslaught of sensation he wrought.

  His hands swept over my body, caressing my stomach, his fingertips delving down my front and I parted my thighs for him. I could feel the hot press of his erection against my lower back, just below my hair, which he gathered with his free hand and swept over my shoulder opposite where his mouth worked the side of my neck.

  “Golden!” I gasped as his fingertips found their mark, sliding through my wetness, over my clit. He pressed the pad of his middle finger against it and swirled it in a tantalizing motion and I shuddered against him.

  “Lie back,” he murmured, and he helped me to lay down in the center of the bed, kneeling between my knees, his mouth back at my chest, kissing down, down, impossibly down, between my breasts, over my stomach, at the top of my mound, just out of reach of where I really wanted him to be. His fingers threaded between mine as he shouldered my legs apart and with those impossibly dark eyes staring at me, he made sure I watched him as he tasted me for the first time.

  I made this strangled noise, somewhere between crying out and a gasp, as if the air rushed from me yet my throat forgot to make sound. I fell back, my hands gripping his, holding on to stay grounded, as his tongue worked against the most intimate part of me, lavishing my body with attention long denied it, teasing at my clit and bringing me right up to the edge.

  Oh, he was good, keeping me there, right on that edge, but backing off and letting me recover so that he wouldn’t send me over, alternating between teasing soft licks of my clit and plunging his tongue just inside my entrance. I shuddered and shook under the onslaught and bit my lip until it very nearly bled.

  “Oh, god!” I cried, “Please. Please, please, please!”

  “Please, what?” he asked, and his voice was as devilish as his look had been moments before, soft, dark, totally inviting.

  “Please, come up here, I want you, I need you inside me.”

  He chuckled darkly and obliged my begging, but at his pace, on his terms, his cock brushing against the inside of my thigh a couple times on his way up. He grabbed my hips forcefully and bodily brought me up off the bed, sitting on his knees, lining me up with him, checking my expression and my body language to make sure he wasn’t doing anything frightening or triggering.

  I didn’t care, I was too far gone, too drunk on his love-making to be any kind of afraid and it felt so good to let go of all of that and just live totally and completely in this moment with him. He rolled his hips, the head of his cock nudging against my pussy lips and I cried out, stuffing the heel of one of my hands against my mouth to keep quieter, the other hand gripping the blankets at my hips as he found purchase and eased the first inch or so of himself inside me.

  “Look at me, Lys,” he said and I opened my eyes. He smiled and murmured in Spanish as he eased himself all t
he way in, so slowly I swore I died a partial, little death, though I hadn’t come. Not yet. It was a near thing, though, pressing my walls around him, just there beyond his penis like low-hanging fruit. Just one last final nudge and I would fly apart, I just knew it, and oh, how I wanted it. How I wanted him, and to be like this with him forever.

  He stayed inside me, fully-seated, his eyes heavy-lidded with his passion, his breath weighted with his desire as it rushed from his lips and spilled heated over my nude body spread beneath him. I bit my bottom lip and moaned, and he smiled like it was the sound he’d always wanted to hear most. He rolled his hips ever so slightly, moving within me easily, and I gasped, arching.

  “Eyes on me, baby,” he whispered and I opened them again. He nodded and started, low and slow, rolling his hips carefully, sliding out so carefully before easing back in. He felt so good, so incredibly good, but he was holding me right there on the precipice and wasn’t ready to let me over.

  I settled into his lovemaking carefully, and he smiled triumphantly, bending over me, fully seated, and laid his lips on mine.

  “Good girl,” he whispered against my lips and I eased further into the mattress below me. I don’t know what I’d done to deserve the small praise, but something about it was so incredibly sexy, I felt myself throb around him. He let out a little gasp and stilled, waiting the fine tremors in my pussy out, and I gasped, which sounded almost petulant. He smiled above me and shook his head slightly.

  “Not yet, Lys. I want to make you feel so good, you’ll never want another man again.”

  Despite the possessiveness of the statement, it was so incredibly hot. The tone with which he said it spoke low and soft of other things, of gentleness and safety, of strength and protection.

  “Yes,” I whispered and he thrust into me a little bit rougher than he had been. I let out a throaty half-moan/half-cry and he looked utterly pleased with himself. I had to admit he’d earned it. Golden was flipping every single one of my switches into the ‘On’ position and I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

  I didn’t get to dwell on it for too long, because he bent over me, and put his mouth on mine and I didn’t need to think on anything anymore. It was just pure feeling from there on out. Think or feel, like I could do only do one but not the other, and I was surprisingly relieved to do only the latter.

  21

  Golden…

  I lay my body over the top of hers, kissing her, bracing on one arm to hold the majority of my weight off of her so she wouldn’t feel trapped. My other hand drifted over her silky skin, smoothing down her body until I could palm the outside of her knee and raise her leg. I wanted deeper and she groaned against my mouth, complying, wrapping both her legs around my hips, her hands drifting over my back.

  She twined around me, my wild blue rose, and pulled me closer, wrapping herself around me, holding me to her petal-soft skin, and I about died and went to heaven. I worked myself in and out of her body with solid, sure, yet slow and measured, strokes, ravaging her completely but as gently as possible. I knew I could be intense, but it wasn’t about me tonight. It was about her and making sure she was comfortable, that I made her feel good, safe and loved, appreciated like she hadn’t felt in a long time, if ever.

  Her passionate breathing, her voice when she moaned or cried out in that cadence and tone that told me I was doing everything right, gave me such a thrill. It was the natural virile high any man should get when he treated his woman right.

  I loved how unexpectedly responsive she was, I loved how she kissed me without a second thought, boldly, after I’d gone down on her. She was a princess, a queen, but she also had that down-and-dirty street vibe and I loved that. She cried out and jerked below me, her pussy spasming once around me and I thought This is it, that I’d made her come too soon, but she settled and raised her hips to meet my forward thrust and I realized that she was super close, but not there yet.

  Good. I wanted to make this last. I wanted to love her until she was languid and loose, and couldn’t or wouldn’t dream of getting out of this bed for anything for a while. I wanted to make her feel out-of-this-world, because I couldn’t be sure she’d ever been fucked so good and ‒I‒ wanted to be the one to give her that experience.

  She gasped, her eyes closed, her head back, her dark hair fanned across the lavender pillowcase in the amber glow of that pink rock light on her bedside table and it was easily one of the most beautiful things I’d ever laid eyes on. I rolled my hips forward at a slightly different angle and gritted my teeth as she tightened around me. Close, she’s so goddamned close.

  I wanted to see if she was one of the rare ones that could and would come from penetration alone. Most women needed a touch to their clit to go off, but a few didn’t. I rode her body into her crisp cotton sheets, thrusting deep, making sure I was fully seated inside her before thrusting just that little bit more. It felt good, the slick slip-and-slide of her silky walls around my shaft, the way her body gripped me, the tease of her hot flesh around the head of my dick. Shit, I wasn’t going to last long at this rate and I really needed her to come, I wanted her to come first.

  She sucked in a sharp breath on a surprised and startled cry and I worked myself in short hard thrusts against her body. Her pussy grew wetter, tighter, expanding around my head and I felt my lips curve into a triumphant grin as time and space stopped in that perfect moment like the night held its breath completely waiting, Will she, won’t she, but I had no doubt. I knew I’d unlocked the door and the light she held inside spilled out through it and blew me the fuck away.

  She cried out sharply, her arms going around my shoulders as she pulled herself up, stiffening, holding me tightly to her like I was some sort of anchor, keeping her here, keeping her grounded, as her body quivered and shook beneath me. Her body milked me and I groaned, my balls tightening right along with her the higher-strung she got and when she let loose, I detached and flew with her, both of us spiraling out of control, to be held in the velvet palm of night’s gentle grasp.

  I saw stars, I came so hard, and when the white flashes and starbursts of light cleared from my vision, it was to Lys’ smiling face, her bottom lip captured seductively between her teeth, her brown eyes sparkling with an unbridled joy I’d never seen on any woman’s face before. I stared at her in wonder, smoothing some of her wild mane back from her cheek and I think I fell in love right then and there.

  I mean, I couldn’t exactly be sure on that because I wasn’t one-hundred on what love was supposed to be, but I almost had to believe that’s what it was because I had certainly never felt anything like it before.

  “You okay?” she asked softly, her expression tempered with concern.

  “I’m perfect,” I said, my voice husky with untamed growth of whatever this emotion was.

  To prove it, I lowered my mouth to hers, kissing her, my blood hot and racing through my veins, my heart throbbing so hard in my chest I could feel it in my back. No sooner had my cock started to go soft inside her than it was already growing hard again, and I took advantage of it, slowly rolling my hips. Her breath picked up almost as soon as she’d caught it again, her moan of surprise quickly turning to one of decadent ardor.

  I knew the feeling. Recognized it myself. I couldn’t, and I don’t think I would, ever be able to get enough of Alyssa Glenn.

  22

  Alyssa…

  We loved each other into a state of perfect exhaustion, until all that was left was laying sated in my bed, my head on his chest, the warm subtle glow of my salt lamp matching the ambience of the outside to what I was feeling on the inside. I didn’t think that things could get any more perfect or serene.

  He held me, his arm around my back, his free hand tracing up and down my arm in a soothing, light, vaguely-ticklish touch. I lay in an exhausted state of happiness and let my fingers wander over his body, tracing the ridges and planes of his musculature, as if memorizing him as completely as I could by feel as well as sight… because who knew if this w
ould ever happen again? Golden struck me as a conqueror and I very well could be just the latest in the long line of conquests. I didn’t know, and I was too afraid to ask. I just wanted to bask in the afterglow, enjoy the moment and rest, safe in his arms, before facing any more ugly realities.

  Those realities would be there come the morning, but this? I didn’t know where we were supposed to go from here. That made me sad, in a way, but I didn’t let my distress show. Still, he somehow picked up on it because he asked me suddenly, “Whatcha thinkin’, Chica?”

  “Mm, I don’t know if I should say,” I told him, honestly.

  “Why not?” He stiffened slightly beneath me, his body tensing as he went on high alert and I sighed, a little exasperated, because knowing Golden, he wouldn’t let it go until he knew, until I talked.

  “I was wondering what happens now?”

  He chuckled and the rigidity of his posture eased again. His fingertips, which had stopped at my words, resumed their lazy travels over my skin.

  “Now, we lay here and enjoy this, we sleep, maybe go at it again in the morning.”

  “I meant after that,” I said softly, and his hand drifted up from my back to bury itself in my hair as he held me tenderly.

  “Whatever you want to have happen, I’m game, baby.”

  I pushed up and looked at him, to see if I heard him right. His expression was stone cold serious, and I frowned slightly.

  “I don’t know what I want,” I said softly. He reached up and grazed my cheek with his thumb lightly. My eyes slipped shut as I concentrated on the feel of it, such a tender gesture, full of promise, full of meaning, full of potential, but I just didn’t know… which wasn’t fair to him. It wasn’t fair at all.

  “Talk to me,” he whispered.

  “I don’t know what I want, Golden. Everything feels so far up in the air, right now.” I swallowed hard and opened my eyes. He was looking at me, a soft, charmed smile playing along his lips.