“You heard me.” His tone still held a thread of steel, but it was tempered now with a lap of velvet, seductive and dark. “But I’ll allow you that one mistake because you’re going to have other things on your mind.”
Outrage peppered through the pleasant haze. “If you think you’re going to get into my-”
“Don’t even go there, Belle.” The words cracked like a whip. “Not like that.”
Now she started to struggle. “Let me go! How dare you-”
He let her go all right, but only enough to swing her around. Arched back against the kitchen counter, her were hands braced back on it to keep from falling backwards. But what really spun her senses was that his position leaning over her allowed his much taller frame to press against her, chest to breast, hips to hips, long legs entangled with her shorter ones, his hands on her waist.
The position was tantalising enough, but combined with the carnal heat in his eyes it was a fiery combination. Belle could only gape up at him. No one - no one - had ever looked at her with such hunger, such blatant lust, such pure, craven heat.
“Getting the idea, Belle?” The words were a low, primal growl.
For the life of her, she couldn’t form a single coherent word. Her heart pounded, her skin tingled, and her panties were damp. Oh lord.
His big hands slid around her waist until they rested in the small of her back and with one sharp yank he jerked her up flush against his chest, making her tilt her head back just so she could see his face.
His jaw looked rock hard, his eyes gleamed with primal instinct, and his arms were like hot brands around her. However, it wasn’t just his arms. Every inch they were pressed together felt like it was going to start smoking with the heat between them.
In place of the laid-back, easy-going, handsome lothario she’d first met, stood a man who exuded sexual heat, his charm more lethal, his carnality bordering on dangerous - hot, heavy, almost aggressive.
It said a lot for her that she was drawn to it like a moth to a flame, ready to be burned in the fire he promised.
His gaze drifted over her face, his words low and husky. “You’re right in that I want you, but not in the crude, cold way you think. Yes, I want to be with you, in you, naked together.” His pupils dilated. “I desire you. Crave you. You’re like a fire under my skin that I can’t put out, and I believe that if we come together then that fire is going to burn us both up, baby. Yeah, I want you. I want you bad.”
The last words were almost laughable except that when combined with the carnal passion gleaming in his eyes, they were anything but hilarious. His head dipped low, and lower still until his lips hovered just a hairs breadth from hers. “And I’m going to have you.”
The words hadn’t quite left his mouth before his lips claimed hers, pressing against her, his tongue tracing her lips, dancing along it, teasing her until she opened with a helpless moan, and then he swept inside.
Sparks ignited deep inside her, burning embers that flared out and sizzled deep in her veins, heating her, and without thought she pressed close to the man holding her, drinking from her, teasing her with not only the thrust of his tongue but the rocking of his hips against her.
Instinctively she reached up, winding her arms around his neck, drawing him down, arching up into him. Heavy muscles crushed her breasts and dimly she was aware of something else, a small, hard bar that bit into her. Reaching down between them to pull his shirt aside, the stud buttons popped open until her hand pressed flat against his right nipple. The small bar piercing his nipple rubbed coldly against her palm as he pulled her closer, almost seeming to nestle his nipple into her hand, and she rubbed lightly, the metal smooth and cold in sharp contrast to the warm, male nipple.
Marty growled his approval into her mouth while sliding a hand down to her bottom, long fingers curling against her ample derriere, squeezing and releasing, stroking. His hips jerked against her and she felt his shaft, long, hard and thick against her belly, undeniable proof that he desired her, wanted her in the basest way possible.
No match for his expertise, she could only go with instinct, and that instinct had her pressing into him, kissing him deep, sweeping inside his hot mouth to taste him.
His flavour was addictive, making her crave more, so much more, and she could only cry out her disappointment when he pulled back suddenly, but just as quick he turned her, pressing her forward against the kitchen counter again. At the same time his hand swept beneath her skirt, his other hand curved around her jaw, tilting her head back so he could claim her mouth once more.
Bent over her, he seemed bigger, taller, making her feel smaller, surrounded. At his mercy.
He drugged her with his kisses, stirred her desires with his fingers smoothing across her bare stomach and down between her thighs. She couldn’t even remember when her panties had disappeared, she only knew that she was bare to his touch.
His oh, so knowing touch.
His thigh between hers kept her from involuntarily clamping her legs shut when his fingers slid between the slick, plump labias, his fingers seeking and finding the little hidden nub as though he’d done it to her a hundred times. He seemed to know her body, strumming her, stroking her, bringing her to a fever pitch that had her unashamedly pressing her bottom back into him.
Her shirt was open, her bra undone, his free hand palming one breast, massaging it. The whole time he played her body, he never left her lips, swallowing her moans, her cries, her gasps, licking at her honeyed depths.
Hot, liquid heat seeped from her and she pushed back into his stroking fingers, only to gasp and come up on tippy-toe as one long finger slid deep inside her.
“Easy, baby.” Moist lips on her shoulder, a scrape of his tongue across her skin. “So tight. So wet. So wet for me.” He drew his finger out partway then thrust back in, adding a second finger, stretching her so decadently. His hand left her breast, smoothing instead along her spine at the small of her back. “That’s it, Belle, arch up for me.” He nipped her shoulder, laved it with his tongue, trailed his lips up the side of her throat as she moaned. “I love those little breathless cries, baby.”
His fingers turned, hooked, dragged down, and she nearly shattered at the sensations that bloomed, threatening to overwhelm her, making her arch her spine, throw her head back and push her bottom wantonly against him, his hand cupping her as his fingers slid free.
“No, no.” She gasped. “No, please. Please don't.”
“Don’t what?” His fingers feathered over her clitoris in a touch so light, yet it made her vision dim with sparks on the edges. “Tell me, Belle. Tell me what you want.”
“I want…I want…” She shuddered.
“Tell me.” His mouth was at her ear, his tone demanding, dark with desire, heavy with carnal heat.
“You. I want you.”
He took her. The shift of his hips, the rasp of a zipper, and then he was there, his hot, hard length pressed to the entrance of her body, lodging just inside. His hands settled on her hips, fingers biting as he shoved partially inside her, his breath hissing out. “Oh Jesus, you’re so tight. So bloody tight.” Another flex of his hips and he slid deeper. “So wet for me.”
His thick length, steel wrapped in velvet, slid deeper still, filling her, stretching her, and she could only strain upward, push back, moan, pleading for more.
He gave her more, pulling out until he was nearly unsheathed, leaving her suddenly empty before he slid deep up to the hilt inside her, making her breath rush out, her fingers grip the counter edge, knuckles white.
“So good.” Marty growled it, his hands tight on her, holding her still as he started to pump in and out of her, the muscles of his thighs flexing, bunching, so hard against the inside of her thighs.
So damned, deliciously hard.
His shaft was thick, long, pushing through her sheath which clasped him, her muscles clenching down on him each time he withdrew, and she was rewarded by his hiss of pleasure.
Caught up in a storm o
f sensations, fire building inside her, every nerve seemingly centered deep down where his shaft filled her, claimed her, Belle was a prisoner for his desire, unable to do anything but take what he gave, her body open to his, helpless against his erotic invasion.
His thrusts became faster, harder, and he shifted suddenly, one hand leaving her hip to reach over and grab the other side of the counter, the change of position making him come down over her, his chest to her back, the small, metal bar piercing his right nipple rubbing along her skin in a erotic drag.
His free arm curved around her waist, dropped lower until he encircled her hips, holding her securely as he pumped shorter, harder, withdrawing only a little before pumping back in. His every breath was harsh, warm against her temple, his skin so hot, even the nipple piercing warming between them.
Fire seared, pouring through her, coming out from the centre of her to surge through her body, pushing outwards only to curl in as his shaft thrust deep, the tide of passion rolling in upon itself, crashing down and drawing back into her on strings of taut desire, fiery brands that pulled and plucked at her womb as surely as his seed leaking from the tip of his shaft branded the walls of her sheath.
It felt like her soul shattered, fiery sparks that tore her asunder, a wild wave that tore her apart, throwing her out in carnal abandonment only to suck her back under.
As her orgasm swelled, she dimly heard Marty growl something, felt his last, hard thrust, then the heat of his seed deep inside her, his body hard against her, taut, pushing and pushing, and then she was flung over the wild wave and could only ride out the orgasm in a flame of desire that took her apart.
~*~
Slumped over Belle, his chest against her back, his groin snug against her lush bottom, Marty took deep breaths, calming his ragged breathing, enjoying the feel of the generous, warm curves beneath him.
Jesus, he couldn’t remember sex ever being this hot and wild, and he’d had some pretty wild sex in his time. But sex with Belle had just about blown his head off. It sure had blown another head off.
He couldn’t stop the small chuckle escaping him. Oh yeah, he felt great. True, his knees were a little weak, but he also felt like beating his chest with his fists and yelling out his claim to the neighbourhood. He felt energised, his blood pumping through his veins, and the combined scent of Belle, himself and sex that drifted in the air pleased him. It was an aphrodisiac that made him harden and slowly he pulled back, his shaft sliding through her slick sheath, rewarded by her quick intake of breath.
Feeling her tense, he couldn’t help the supremely male grin curve his lips. “Hey,” he said and slid back in deep.
Oh yeah, it was like coming home, like he belonged, her body a tight, perfect fit for his shaft, those lush curves cradling him so sweetly. Bending low, he scraped his teeth across her shoulder blade, laughing softly when she shivered beneath him. Her body, still damp from their previous love making, creamed under his ministrations, and he slid one hand over the gentle swell of her belly and lower, brushing through the curls that protected her secrets.
Leisurely he pumped into her, enjoying the clasping sheath, the drag and push of his shaft inside her. Loving the way she arched back, her head angled just right for him to lean down and place his lips on her cheek, rasping his tongue down to the corner of her mouth, and as her face turned towards him, he claimed her lips in a long, leisurely kiss.
When he broke the contact of their mouths she moaned, and he looked his fill of her, seeing the red, swollen lips that he’d caused, the dreamy yet hot gleam in her eyes, the green of her irises seductive pools. Her cheeks held a light flush.
Belle looked like a woman who’d been made thorough love to, and right now was gradually spiralling upwards once more.
Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to her throat, he flexed his hips, pumping a little harder, a little deeper, while sliding his fingertips between the swollen folds of her sex, finding the little clitoris which was hardening, begging for his touch, and he feathered over it, teasing, enjoying the way Belle undulated against him, pushing herself into his hand, wanting more.
Begging.
“Please. Please, Marty. Please.”
Soft little whimpers that held the rasp of building desire. It inflamed him but he didn’t want to let this magical moment go, this time of just him and Belle, their naked bodies sliding against each other, her pretty little kitchen with its country theme a private oasis, the world shut outside.
Just him and Belle making love. Sweet, slow, torturous, hot love.
With several expert strokes he had her ardour climbing, felt her shiver, felt her sheath contract and clasp him tight in an erotic fist as her climax shuddered through her, and still he pumped slowly, riding her almost gently as she came down, but she didn’t come down completely, not with his hips moving continuously against her, his hands now cupping her generous breasts, his thumbs scraping across the little pink nipples that begged for attention.
Soon, he promised himself, he’d claim those little nipples with his mouth, suck them and roll his tongue around them, but right now he played with them, alternating between light flicks of his thumbs and then rubbing them against the middle of his palms, rewarded by the small, hard nubs pushing against his skin.
“Marty,” she whispered. “Oh, God.”
“Just what I like to hear.” Grinning, he changed angle, making her gasp and try to rise on tip-toe in ecstasy, but catching her hips he held her still, laughing softly, darkly, when she tried to pull away with a frustrated moan.
“Oh no, baby,” he said. “Stay right there.”
“I don’t - Marty, I can’t take it - ohhhh.” Closing her eyes, she shivered as he again changed his angle slightly, titling her hips back and up.
“You can.” He pressed his lips to her nape, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, the silken strands of hair tickling his chin. “You will.”
He simply made her, his greater strength and height making it easy to control her movements, to shift her to ensure she received the greatest pleasure, holding her at just the right angle as his hips fastened, his thrusts becoming more vigorous, harder, longer.
The fire that had been smouldering in his loins started to spread, searing out, curling fiery tongues inside the sac beneath his shaft and pulling tight. Blood pounded hotly in his veins, churning through his system, and carnal heat flowed through him.
He gave himself up to it, hearing Belle cry out as she orgasmed, the clenching of her sheath around his shaft causing him to dig his fingers harder into her, making his hips drive harder, his shaft harder and thicker and stiffer than he’d ever felt it before, his movements harder.
God, Belle made him so hard.
He couldn’t stop the rush now if he tried, not with her soft, sweet body pressing back against him, her female muscles clamping around his shaft, her broken moans of ecstasy filling the air and sinking into his senses with tendrils of pure heat.
His sac felt tight, deliciously tight, then almost achingly so, his engorged shaft pumping deep, so deep into her hot, wet secrets.
Ardour rode him hard, as hard as he was now riding Belle, hips pistoning as he thrust almost ruthlessly, but every stroke shorter until he was pushing into her, pressed against her so tight that nothing could come between them, the pressure building and building in his groin, almost pain and pleasure combined in a hunger that was ravenous.
Ravenous for Belle.
The pressure grew, his heart thundering, and then he reached the top, his seed bursting forth deep inside, coating her walls, marking her as his.
Mine. All mine.
The thought came right before he splintered, his control shattering and the orgasm taking him.
Arms wrapped tight around Belle, holding her fast to him, he shook as he emptied into her, feeling as though he would never empty and not wanting to. Wanting the erotic moment to go on and on. Not wanting to let her go.
Then he knew nothing but soul-searing pleasure.
When he finally came to, he realised that Belle was shivering in his arms. Her body trembled and he could feel every bit of it because he held her to him so tightly.
Gentling his hold, he gasped, “Wait, baby. It’s okay. Just wait a few minutes.” Straightening, he kept his arms around her, taking her with him until they both stood before resting his chin on top of her head and breathing deeply, calming his thundering heart while soothingly running one hand up and down her arm.
When her trembling didn’t stop, he turned her in his arms to cradle her against him, and after several seconds she relaxed and rested her cheek on his chest.
Closing his eyes he relaxed in turn, leaning into her and feeling her do the same. Right in that second he was the most contented he’d ever been in his life. Belle in his arms just felt so natural, so right.
He’d have been content to stay like that for a lot longer, but after several moments when Belle placed her hands on his upper arms and pushed, he released his hold only enough that he could look down at her.
Uh-oh.
He might be supremely satisfied but her face was totally expressionless. Or what he could see of it, because she was looking directly at his chest. “Belle?”
“I need some space.”
Uh oh again. In his experience that never boded well, especially as it was usually him that was saying it, not the woman who was usually clinging to him. Talk about role changes.
Ducking his head down, he peered into her face. “Belle, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Everything.” She looked away. “Please, let me go.”
Ah, shit. This could go either way. Obviously she wasn’t having the warm after-fuzzies that he was experiencing, and that was something he wasn’t used to, never in the history of his love-making, in fact.
Not wanting to push her, he slid his arms away and stepped back. Immediately he felt the loss of her warmth, the cool air creeping over his heated skin as she moved to the side.
Biting her lip, she looked down and fastened her bra and re-buttoned her shirt with trembling hands.
The Lawson Boys: Marty Page 14