by Lucy Monroe
“Glad you think so.”
He joined her on the bed, his movements predatory as he crawled over her. “This would go a lot easier if you were naked, wildcat.”
“Yes.” She nodded, only vaguely aware of the decided lack of stress she felt at getting naked with this man.
That was something of a miracle, and a welcome one.
He grinned, the expression feral. “You going to take your clothes off, then?”
“Can’t.”
“Am I in your way?”
“Yes. No. Don’t move.” She liked him right where he was.
He caressed her breast through her sweater. “This is soft, sweetheart, but not as smooth as your skin.”
She didn’t reply, her voice lost to the sensation of his hand on her. He gently pinched her turgid nipple through the layers of fabric.
“Oh!” Pleasure radiated out from her peak, sending goose bumps skating along her skin.
He squeezed again and then cupped her breast, gently kneading the swell of flesh. “Does that feel good?”
“Yes.”
“It will feel even better naked, wildcat.”
Her thighs pressed tightly together in involuntary reaction to the dark promise in his voice.
“N-naked would be good,” she choked out with a stutter.
He sat up, keeping his weight off her as he straddled her hips. “Let’s start with this.”
By this he meant her black cashmere Hermès sweater, the T-shirt she wore beneath it, and her bra. He never hesitated, removing each article of clothing with single-minded determination until they had all been stripped from her and thrown aside, landing on the floor somewhere.
Tack didn’t give her a chance to worry he found her thin-side-of-normal figure wanting, but mapped every inch of her skin, his eyes as hot on her as his big, calloused hands.
He cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing back and forth over already distended nipples so very eager for his touch. “So pretty.”
“I have freckles.” Just a smattering over her shoulders and breasts, but enough they couldn’t be ignored. “And I don’t tan.”
Not even a little. Her skin was so pale she swore it glowed in the dark.
He shook his head. “You think there’s some bad there?”
“You don’t?” Okay, so a few insecurities had surfaced.
“Your freckles are like cinnamon sprinkled over whipped cream. They make me want to lick each one and see if you taste as sweet as you look.”
“Oh?” she asked on a gasp.
“And I tan enough for both of us.”
She giggled. “You do.”
His skin wasn’t as dark as his mother’s, but in the summertime, Tack took on color in a way that Caitlin had always envied and made his Inuit heritage a lot more obvious.
“Does that bother you?” he asked.
Her brows drew together. “What? Why would you ask that?”
He was by far the sexiest man she’d ever seen, but she wasn’t going to say so, pretty sure his ego didn’t need that stroking. Still, how could he worry he was too dark?
“It’s the same as you worrying you don’t measure up to the California golden crowd you’re not even a part of anymore.”
“I didn’t mean…” But that was where her uncertainty came from.
Years of living among perfectly tanned bodies, where her natural brassy red hair stuck out as much as her pale skin, had convinced her she was lacking. She’d highlighted and color-toned her hair, gone weekly for spray tans, worn the latest size-two fashions, and had still felt like a Holly Hobbie among Barbie dolls.
“You do remember the first couple of years at USC?”
“Um, yes?” She did, but she wasn’t sure what part of that he was referring to.
His eyes challenged her. “Did I ever date a single beach bunny or Rodeo Drive diva?”
“No.”
“I want you exactly as you are, Kitty Grant.” His dark chocolate eyes burned with a hunger she couldn’t mistake.
“I’m very glad.” Her body was burning with how glad she was.
Tack leaned down and kissed her, the slide of his lips against hers not as devouring as his expression, but far from chaste. His tongue sampled her flavor but didn’t dwell there. Moving his mouth down her neck, he pressed tasting kisses along the path of her freckles like he’d said he wanted to, leaving a trail of sparking nerve endings in his wake.
She’d never had someone trace her collarbone this way, drawing forth a response she wouldn’t have guessed possible from a spot she’d never considered an erogenous zone.
“So good,” she said on the tail end of a moan.
He hummed. “Delicious.”
Changing tactics with her breasts, he rubbed his soft, short whiskers against her skin until her skin was so sensitive each brush sent a thousand nerve endings screaming with pleasure.
“Tack! What are you doing?”
He looked up at her, his expression wicked. “Playing.”
His answer was so unexpected, she gaped at him for several seconds. “I thought we were going to make love.”
“We are. Haven’t you played in bed before?”
“No.”
His smile was one hundred percent wicked. “I told you, I’m going to rock your world.”
“Consider it rocked.”
He shook his head. “Not even close, Kitty. We’ve got a long way to go before mind-blowing pleasure.”
“Speak for yourself,” she gasped out, her breathing ragged already.
He dipped his head, his mouth closing over one nipple, and he bit down just enough that she felt the edges of his teeth and no pressure. It was the most exquisite sensation, and she didn’t move even a centimeter so it wouldn’t stop.
Then he started to suck.
She keened. Her pelvis thrust upward, her body bowing with an involuntary contraction of muscles. Sexual ecstasy coiled tight inside her. Did other people experience this every time they had sex?
His mouth pulled off her now-aching peak.
She whimpered, wanting him to keep doing what he’d been doing. “No, don’t stop.”
She was ready to beg in a way that none of Nevin’s bullying could have elicited.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
You react as if you’ve never been touched before.” Tack sounded like he was trying to work something out in his head.
She couldn’t help him. How could she respond to the implied question in his observation without bringing the past where she didn’t want it to be?
That sexy, feral smile showed itself again. “I like it.”
“I’m glad.” More than thrilled might describe it better.
Caitlin didn’t know what she’d do if he wanted her to react with blasé sophistication in bed. She just didn’t have it in her. Never had and never could with this man.
“I used to fantasize about taking your virginity,” he admitted in a tone that made her shiver. “I feel like that’s what I’m doing right now.”
She swallowed and then decided his admission deserved equal honesty. “I feel like you are too. Nothing has ever been like this. My body is a virgin to this kind of pleasure.”
How could a modern man look so primitively pleased? But Tack’s expression would have been more typical on one of his ancient ancestors.
She reached up and cupped his cheek. “You’re happy.”
“Yes,” he said gutturally.
“Good.” She mock glared at him. “Now, more touching.”
“Demanding little spitfire, aren’t you?”
“Never have been before.”
“Must be the man in your bed, then.” Oh, that tone was smug.
And she couldn’t argue his right to sound that way. “Technically, it’s your bed.”
A strange expression turned his dark gaze remote for a couple of seconds, but then he was bending down to give equal attention to the other breast and there was no room for speculation in Caitlin’s brain.
&nb
sp; She was fully occupied with carnal delight.
She nearly cried when he stopped again, but it was only to show her how much sensation there was to be had with him using his mouth on her stomach of all things, an area she’d never considered sexy. He seemed to find it endlessly fascinating.
When he stopped and moved away, she didn’t care that it was to take the rest of her clothes off.
“Want. Want. Want,” she chanted, trying to pull him back.
He chuckled darkly. “Don’t worry, wildcat, I’m not leaving you hanging, but it’s time to get a little more intimate.”
“What was that?” she demanded. “A handshake?”
He laughed out loud, the warm sound cascading through her, leaving behind a whole other type of pleasure.
“Always figured you’d be a handful like this, but damn, sweetheart.” He shook his head as he tossed her slacks over his shoulder.
“I’m a Grant; it’s in the genes.”
He didn’t smile; he was too busy staring at her nearly naked body, and from his expression, the fact that she could still stand to gain ten pounds didn’t bother him one little bit.
He hadn’t found the waiflike figures so popular in Southern California attractive when they’d attended USC, but there was no doubt she turned him on.
He hooked his fingertips onto the elastic of her panties’ waistband. “You ready to lose these?”
She loved that he asked, especially considering his hard-on had to be painful at this point. Nevin used to whine if she made him wait a couple of minutes to use lubricant to make entry easier.
“Yes, more than ready.”
Tack didn’t wait for further encouragement but slipped the panties right down her legs, exposing the last bit of her body to him and taking any lingering modesty with them.
He gently brushed his fingertips along the ends of the hair at the apex of her thighs, barely touching and sending shivers of delight through her. Who would have known that could be so stimulating?
“I like this.” He ruffled the red curls, sending a different kind of delight through her.
She’d vowed never to wax again but wasn’t sure she would have kept that promise to herself if he evinced a preference for smooth skin. “Yes?”
“Mmm-hmmm. Pretty.” He slipped a finger between her folds, gently rubbing along the soaking flesh.
Getting so wet was new with him, too, and she liked it. A lot. Not only did it make his touching her more pleasurable, but it was also physical evidence she wasn’t a defective woman.
“Aaaah…feels so good, Tack.”
“Yes, it does.” He dipped into her swollen channel. “You’re so wet, wildcat.”
“You’re surprised?” she teased with a seductive tone she’d never used before.
Probably all his partners got wet like this. He was just too good at sex.
Lust flared in his dark gaze. “Let’s see what we can do about getting you ready for me.”
“I am ready,” she promised.
But that didn’t stop him from touching her intimately, spreading her moisture around her labia and up to her clitoris.
She jumped when he touched the highly concentrated bundle of nerve endings. Pleasure shivered through her as he alternated between pinching the swollen flesh and caressing it in small circles with the pad of his thumb. Carnal bliss centered there and then exploded through her, taking her closer and closer to a climax she wasn’t ready to have.
Not until he was inside her.
“Want you, Tack. Inside me.”
“Not yet,” he gritted, his savage expression implying the delay was as hard for him as it was for her.
“Yes. I need you now. Please. I’m going to come.”
“So, come.”
“No,” she pleaded. “Not until you’re in me.”
He stared down at her. “I’ll make sure you come with me inside you too.”
“Not the same.” She didn’t know why it was so important to her, but she desperately needed the intimacy of this orgasm happening when she was as connected to him as possible.
He jumped off the bed.
“No!” The word was torn from her.
“I need a condom,” he said in a barely discernable tone.
“Hurry!”
He was back seconds later, ripping a foil packet open.
She reached out to help, but he brushed her hands aside with a shake of his head. “If you touch me, I’m going to blow.”
Those words were the most exciting touch he’d given her yet. Though they affected her heart and not her body, the impact couldn’t have been more intense.
There was no keeping the moan of pleasure inside her, no way to stop herself from writhing on the bed like a wanton.
“You are so damn sexy, wildcat.” His gaze burned as he finished rolling the condom over at least nine hard, very thick inches.
She parted her thighs, lifting her knees in blatant invitation. “Come inside me.”
Suddenly he was all explosive, primitive movement as he leaped onto the bed and moved between her legs. His erection pressed against the entrance to her body, like he was kissing her in a supremely intimate caress.
“Now,” he said gutturally.
“Now,” she pleaded without any sense of shame.
The certainty that she could ask this man for what she needed without worrying he would use it against her created a warm, steady glow deep inside her even as the fires of desire raged around it.
He surged inside of her in one smooth, inexorable thrust. While it lacked the pain, tearing, blood, and tears of losing her virginity, it was no less profound. Maybe even more so.
She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, but it felt like she experienced every centimeter of the stretch necessary in her most intimate flesh to accommodate his heavy girth.
He bumped against her cervix, sending a whole new type of pleasure through her. She’d never been invaded this deeply. Never known a connection that seemed to reach to the very depths of her soul.
He cursed like it was a prayer and stilled, embedded inside her. “You’re so tight.”
She had no words. Couldn’t believe he’d managed speech.
Then he started to move and even rational thought became impossible.
It was all sensation. Burning pleasure. Sparking nerve endings. Hot breath catching in her chest. The slick slide of engorged flesh against tender tissues. A rapid heartbeat pounding in her chest. Ecstasy pushing against every particle of awareness.
Until rapture crashed over her in a tsunami that devastated everything in its wake.
The sound of her name shouted in his deep tones sent another peak washing through her, her body going rigid to the point of pain before melting bonelessly back into the bed.
They lay together in the aftermath, his body a welcome weight on hers, their breathing harsh in the stillness of the room.
Her throat was raw, like she’d screamed, but she couldn’t remember doing it.
She didn’t know how long they lay there either, but eventually, he pulled out of her, his fingertips holding the condom in place. Even with him softened, she felt the retreat along her inner walls and it sent residual pleasure through her.
Reaching across her, his big body emanating heat, he grabbed a tissue from the box beside the bed. He took care of the condom, tossing it in a trashcan next to the nightstand.
Then he moved to sit on the side of the bed, his breath shuddering like he’d just climbed the highest peak in the Kenai Mountains. “That is worth doing again.”
Tension she hadn’t been aware of holding in her body released. “Agreed.”
He turned his head, his gaze trapping hers. “Yeah?”
“You need to ask?”
“You want more sex, no more skipping meals.”
“Are you serious?” She wasn’t sure if she should be offended or touched like she’d never been touched before.
“As a grizzly hunting food.”
“Why, Tack? Why is
this so important to you?”
He shifted so he was sitting sideways, facing her, his nearest leg bent at the knee and resting on the bed. “How can you ask that?”
“I’m not your responsibility.”
He reached out and placed his big hand in the middle of her naked stomach, his thumb tracing over one hip bone. “You’ve been my responsibility since we were six years old.”
Unlike so many times in the past when she was even remotely this vulnerable, she felt no urge to scoot under the covers or leave. Which was really strange, because he drew forth more real emotion than anyone else could these days.
She should be terrified of him, but she just wanted to lay her hand over his. So she did.
But she couldn’t agree with his assessment either. “I abdicated your care and protection eight years ago.”
“It’s not something you get to decide.”
“I never realized how arrogant you can be.”
“Kitty, you used to yell at me for being too bossy and stubborn all the time.”
“It’s not the same thing.”
He shrugged, like it wasn’t worth arguing about, especially since he clearly thought he was right.
Definitely arrogant.
Why didn’t that irritate her?
Maybe because his confidence was well earned. Taqukaq MacKinnon hadn’t made her mistakes and he’d built exactly the life he’d always said he would.
That didn’t mean he was always right, but she wasn’t going to dismiss his opinion without consideration either.
“You want me to be healthy.” Enough to offer his body as incentive for her to eat.
It would be funny to the point of ridiculousness if it didn’t hit her straight in the heart. This man who said he didn’t want anything emotional with her was offering security unlike anything she’d known since leaving Alaska for college. And he seemed determined to make her believe she was beautiful just as she was.
She’d found inner strength she’d thought she’d lost, but she dared any woman to be strong enough to turn this man down.
Tack gave her a serious look. “I’m not the only one.”
“No one else has ever cared enough to look for a way to help.” Her therapist didn’t count, since Dr. Hart had been paid to teach Caitlin tools to overcome her eating disorder.