Her breath came in gusts. She bent one knee deeper and braced the sole of her boot on his shoulder. His collarbone became her stirrup, and he really didn’t care if she cracked it clean in half. He knelt there between her legs and slid his tongue right to the quivering rim.
With an edgy, “Yesssss,” she shifted her hips and took him in. He kept still and let her use his tongue as she saw fit—let her control how fast and deep she wanted him. She wanted him slow and tentative, at first, but with each undulation of her hips, she increased the depth and speed. When her moves got jerky and less precise, he took over. Banding his hands around the backs of her thighs, he spread her wide and speared into her until his lips became her backstop. Then he proceeded to fuck her with slow, deep, swirling thrusts. A breathless stream of, “ooh…ooh…ooh,” followed.
Those little noises eventually blended into a long, needful, “Ohhhhhh.” He switched tactics, closed his lips around the tight knot of nerves at the tip of her clit and sucked her in. She braced her other boot heel on his shoulder, bowed and vibrated like a high-tension wire. Her grip on his hair turned punishing, and his scalp burned from the intensity of the sensations barreling down on her. She pulsed in his mouth for one heartbeat…two…and cried out his name in a ragged breath as her orgasm crashed over them.
“Now the bedroom,” he said and hauled her still-trembling body into his arms. A few long strides brought them to his bed. He slid his arm out from under her legs and let the toes of her boots touch the floor.
She cuddled against him, warm and boneless, and cupped her palm against his cheek. He felt her smile against his chest, and then she pressed a kiss over his heart. Did she feel it racing like a fucking bullet train? A second later she tipped her head up and sent a lazy grin his way. Her misty eyes didn’t quite focus. “That was the best breakfast I ever had.”
The sly smile was impossible to resist. He leaned down and kissed her pliant, parted lips. When he raised his head they were both breathing heavy. “Baby, we’re nowhere near done with breakfast. That was just the first course. We haven’t even tried the condiments yet.”
Confusion stole over her face. “Condiments?”
He gestured to the lube and latex on his nightstand, and suddenly the lightness of the moment evaporated for him, because he thought about her arriving home yesterday afternoon, excited about her good news and her bag of treats. And he’d stayed out drinking and sulking because she couldn’t wait to not need him anymore.
But apparently she needed him for this, and he could deliver in motherfucking spades. He put a finger to the center of her chest and pushed. She staggered back. Her legs hit the bed and she landed on his mattress. “Be gentle with me.”
“You’re in the driver’s seat, Madison. Be gentle with me.” He unbuttoned his jeans, shoved them down, and kicked his feet free. Okay, sure, his engorged cock might have undermined his words, but hopefully she wasn’t too nervous. She’d handled him plenty in the last weeks, and she knew he could take his fair share of punishment.
The punishment started now, because she tugged off a boot and then tossed it over her shoulder. The second boot landed with a thud just seconds behind the first. Then she got to her knees on the bed and unbuttoned her skirt. The scrape of the zipper came next. Finally, she shimmied out of it, and tossed the skirt and her silky white panties to the floor. She knelt there in the center of his bed, facing him, the hem of the sweater reaching the tops of her thighs.
Blood pumped heavy in his veins, flowing like a river of fire into his dick, leaving him lightheaded at the thought of finally seeing her completely naked. No panties, no slouchy, threadbare T-shirt that drove him insane with everything it revealed—and everything it hid. He crawled onto the bed, cock leading the way, and reached for the hem of her sweater. She scrunched her arms across her middle. “My stomach’s still not…normal.”
“You’re beautiful.” He gave the sweater a tug, but she didn’t move her arms.
Her cheeks turned from a post-orgasmic pink to an embarrassed red. “I can’t compete with all this.” Her eyes raked down his stomach and then her fingers followed, stopping just below his navel. The pad of her index finger grazed the head of his cock and sent a current of electricity singing a path straight down his shaft and into his balls.
“Holy shit, Madison, this isn’t a competition, and I’m sure as hell not perfect.”
“Yes, you are.”
“You realize you’re saying this to a man who threw up on his front lawn last night?”
“Yeah, well, that’s better than throwing up in your bed, which is what you’re liable to do if I flash my big ugly belly at you.” If possible, the red staining her cheeks intensified.
Dammit. He should have just torn the stupid T-shirt off her the first night they’d fooled around, and then they’d be past all this by now. But he’d known from day one she battled self-consciousness, and he wanted her to be comfortable. He also wanted her out of the sweater. He slid his hands around back and cupped her ass. “Some of my favorite parts are under here. C’mon, baby, let me take it off. I promise you won’t be sorry.”
She bit her lip, and her gaze drifted to the pillow on “her” side of the bed. “I had this all planned out last night. All the stuff we’d need, and exactly what I’d wear. I was going to surprise you. Everything was going to be perfect.”
Right. And he’d ruined it. He dropped his head in defeat. “Want me to step out while you slip into something more comfortable?”
The appreciative look she aimed at him almost erased his disappointment. “Just turn around and face the wall for a second. This won’t take long.”
He did as she asked, silently reciting square roots in his head to distract himself from the sounds of her shifting around on the bed behind him. After a moment, she said, “Okay. I’m ready. You can turn around now.”
“I don’t know. This ‘face the wall’ business is pretty hot. Maybe I’ll just—”
The smack of her palm across his ass cut him off.
“Excuse me, Miz Foley, did you just spank me? That’s the thanks I get after all my cooperation?” He turned to find her balanced on her knees, wearing one of his old shirts and a poorly stifled grin.
“Want me to kiss it better?”
“You don’t get off that easy.” He leaned in and caught her wrists. “Two can play this game.”
Despite his hold on her wrists, she edged away, putting as much distance as she could between him and her vulnerable backside. “I’m smaller and have a much lower pain threshold.”
“Sounds like stuff you should have thought of before you dished out something you couldn’t take.” He pushed her wrists together and cuffed them in his left hand.
“I bruise easily.”
“Same answer.” With a flick of his arm, he pulled her forward, unbalancing her and jostling a squeak out of her when she spilled across the mattress. Before she could even attempt to get to her knees, he threw a leg over her hips and straddled her. Then he pinned her arms behind her and held her wrists in a loose but unbreakable grip at the small of her back. “This here is what we call a teaching moment.” He slowly raised the T-shirt up to her waist, deliberately taking his time exposing the pale, perfect target. “Are you ready to learn your lesson?”
Chapter Fourteen
Madison blew her hair out of her face and then did her best to twist around and send Hunter a pitiful look.
He shook his head. “Uh-uh. Those kitten eyes won’t work on me.” As if to prove it, he lazily circled a finger and drew a bulls-eye on her butt cheek. The feel of his big blunt fingertip swirling over her skin enlivened her hypersensitive nerve endings, and no amount of willpower could keep her from twitching to escape the torture.
His fingers stilled, but she knew a temporary respite when she experienced one. “Why, Madison, are you ticklish?”
She closed her eyes and pressed her face into the comforter to smother the laughter welling in her chest. “No.” The comforter muffle
d her bald-faced lie but not her helpless scream when he tickled her again—longer and more vigorously this time. She laughed, and squirmed, and sucked in heavy, desperate breaths when he stopped for a moment, then she screamed yet again when he attacked the other cheek.
She heard him laughing, too, and the last slivers of nervousness inside her melted away. Trust Hunter to keep things playful and fun, despite all her crazy hang-ups.
He leaned over her, his voice low and teasing in her ear. “Say, ‘Hunter Knox, you own my pretty little ass.’”
“No wa—aahhhh. Nooooo!” Those wicked fingers attacked again, and reduced her to a twisting, sweating mess.
“Say it.”
“Hu-Hunter Kn-Kn-Knox”—she dragged in a much needed lungful of air and then spat the rest out in a rush—“You own my prettylittleass!”
He punctuated her surrender with a loud smack on said ass, which startled another giggle out of her. But her laughter faded into a moan when he hooked his arm around her waist, hauled her onto her knees, and proceeded to kiss her punished cheek.
His mouth roamed lower. “Hunter…” She tried to draw her arms under her and push herself up, but he took hold of the backs of her thighs and applied enough forward pressure to make it difficult.
“Just like this. Don’t move.”
Good lord, he expected her to stay put, with her butt in the air, and the rest of her angled down? Clearly yes, because now the real torture began. He settled low on the bed, braced himself on his forearms, and used his tongue on her again, sliding in out and around the same territory he’d thoroughly exploited in the living room. But whereas he’d given her a measure of control last time, this time their position left her very much at his mercy.
The abrasion of his whiskers awakened a whole new set of nerve endings from this direction, as did the open-mouthed kisses he pressed to all her freshly shaved flesh. Nothing escaped his reach. His tongue teased her clit, her folds, ultimately easing into her channel to stretch her anew from behind. She grabbed fistfuls of comforter and held on.
The room filled with the thick, wet sound of his mouth working its magic. If he kept this up, it seemed likely she’d wasted twenty-five bucks on lube they wouldn’t need—not that she was complaining. No, she was breathing heavy, and moaning a little, but complaints? Not a one.
Eventually, though, the slide of his mouth, the thrust of his tongue, and her spread-eagled pose only intensified the empty ache insider her. “I’m ready. Hunter? Please, I’m ready. Really, really ready.”
Despite her urgency, he took his time disengaging. She did her best to be patient while he reversed course—until she realized where he intended to trail his tongue next. She pushed up onto her arms and wriggled out of his grasp.
“Hey,” he grumbled, “I own your pretty little ass, remember?”
“I’m taking it back.”
“I thought you said you were ready?”
She glanced over her shoulder and caught his challenging grin.
“Not for that.”
He shifted around until he was propped against the pillows, his legs stretched out in front of him, his hands behind his head, his crunching abs providing a rugged backdrop for his imposing erection. This long, rangy, absolutely unrepentant tribute to masculinity stared at her with dazzling blue eyes. “What are you ready for, baby?”
His low drawl served as a whole new seduction. Her insides quivered. She crawled up his body, her arms bracketing his crossed ankles, his sculpted, hair-dusted shins and strong, muscular thighs. She stopped when she straddled his lap. He ran his hands up her thighs and under the hem of her shirt to rest at her hips. “According to my doctor, I’m ready for something called controlled penetration. It’s when—oh…”
He settled her on his lap, nestled his thick ridge against her soft parts, and drew his knees up behind her. She leaned back against his thighs, which brought her pelvis forward and pushed their lower bodies into deeper, hotter contact. He tugged the neckline of her T-shirt down to expose her breast and cupped it in his callused palm. His eyelids drifted down. He pulled in a slow breath through his nose. “I know what it is. I’ve been reading up.”
And now the place between her legs wasn’t the only part of her melting. The knowledge he cared enough to research how to make this good for her left a warm, soft spot dangerously close to her heart.
She tightened and relaxed her muscles, simultaneously rocking herself against him and hugging that hard curve lodged between the folds of her sex. His jaw clenched, and his hands grew slightly rougher with her breasts, but he let her keep at it for a bit. Finally, he caught her hips and held her still. “You want to ride it, cowgirl?”
“Yee-haw,” she whispered.
He scooted her back until he had access to his equipment. “Get ready to mount up.”
She scrambled for the box of condoms, tore it open, and pulled out one foil wrapped square.
“Hold up there, quick-draw. Don’t forget to take care of your animal.”
She paused in the act of tearing the foil. “I thought I was.”
He plucked the condom from her fingers, dropped it on the nightstand, and picked up the Liquid Silk. “Hold out your hand.”
When she did, he pumped a dime-sized pearl into her palm. The container went back on the nightstand and then he gripped the base of his erection, manhandled it until it pointed straight up, and guided her hand down until she could curl her palm around the smooth, wide head. She massaged her lube-slicked hand over him. The back of his skull thunked against the headboard.
For half a minute he let her lube him up. Then he raised his head and sent her the kind of slow, sexy smile that made her insides quiver. He pumped a generous amount of lube into his hand, coating his palm and fingers. When their eyes reconnected, he said, “You take care of your stallion, your stallion will take care of you.”
Then he slid his hand between her legs, and slipped a finger insider her. He had her so ready—beyond ready—the minor invasion only tapped into a deeper well of need. She leaned forward, which pressed her clit solidly into his hand, clamped her hands around his head, and pulled his mouth to hers. Their tongues tangled, and their breath mingled. All the while he cautiously worked his finger deeper.
The caution was driving her out of her mind. “You,” she sighed into his mouth. “I can’t wait anymore. I need you inside me.”
“Another finger. Jesus, baby, we’re just getting started. We’re going to take this slow. Slow and easy.”
Right now she wanted fast and reckless. She wanted heat and friction, pain and pleasure, and every mind-blowing sensation in between. When he nudged the second finger into her, she bore down. Hard. Then inhaled sharply as her body reluctantly stretched to accommodate.
“Damn it, Madison. What part of ‘take it slow’ do you not understand? Don’t make me bend you over this bed and fuck you with my fingers until I’m satisfied you can behave.”
He’d do it, too. He was bigger, stronger, and his propensity to control the situation made him strict about doing things his way. And while the notion of being on the receiving end of his threat sent a spiral of scalding need straight to her center, her version of this moment involved his powerful body under her—lifting, flexing—preferably rising up to meet her as they chased release. This was her turn to set the pace, dammit. Her chance to decide for herself what she was ready for. And she felt more than up to the job.
“Hunter, I’m a grown woman, I’m nowhere near as fragile as you seem to think, and I’m following my doctor’s advice. I know what I can handle.” So saying, she took the condom off the nightstand and rolled it on him while he sucked in a breath. “And I know what I expect from you. The only question I have left is this—are you going to give me the ride you promised, or are you going to turn yourself into a cautious little pony for the sake of your over-protective instincts?”
He stared at her for a moment, and she worried she’d pushed him too far. The ‘bent over the bed’ scenario he’d t
hreatened started to look inevitable.
Instead, to her surprise, he leaned back again, re-folded his arms behind his head, and said, “Do your worst.”
Those three words, delivered in his resigned tone, were all the incentive she needed. She wrapped her fingers around the base of his erection and then inched her hips forward until she’d lined them up.
“Wait.” Hunter pumped lube liberally over the outside of the condom then spread it all over the latex with his fist. “Okay. Now, go ahead.”
Eyes locked on his, she slowly lowered her hips. Midway down she began to feel some strain as her body resisted. She leaned forward, putting her weight on her knees, and reached behind her to grip him again. His pupils expanded, and his nostrils flared, but he kept still. The new angle forced him a little deeper. Forced being the operative word. She did her best to keep her expression neutral, because she feared the tiniest show of discomfort would freak him out and result in an early, unsatisfying end to this adventure.
Keep going. She needed to. She wanted to. But a tight, pinching pain resulted when she flexed her hips.
Okay, just get it done. But the next thing she knew, Hunter pumped more lube into his hand and reached behind her to deliver a positively heavenly massage to her sore, stretched flesh. His other hand clasped the back of her head and brought her mouth down to his. She braced her hands on either side of his chest and balanced there while he toyed with her lips, using his tongue to mimic the movement of his fingers down below.
When her wet lips tingled and throbbed in time with the other wet, tingling part of her, he slipped his tongue inside her mouth. Hunter between her lips. Hunter between her legs. The competing sensations sent shivers up and down her spine. And in that moment, she realized he wasn’t going to pull back and try to satisfy her with alternative measures. He’d committed to giving her what she wanted, and as long as she was game to go for it, he’d find a way to make it happen.
Emergency Delivery (Love Emergency) Page 13