by Sophie Stern
No one else had ever told her, though.
No man, for certain.
The idea that Luke loved her made her eyes water. Willow felt weak. She didn’t like feeling weak, but somehow, with Luke, she thought it might just be okay. He would be strong when she couldn’t be. He could be strong enough for both of them.
“Tell me again,” he whispered. His lips pressed against her ear.
“I love you,” she said. “I love you, Luke.”
He lifted her up and she wrapped her arms around him. Luke kissed her with the power of a thousand suns, with the strength he’d hidden deep inside himself. She liked that he made her feel this way. She liked that he didn’t hold back when he was with her.
Luke ran his hands down her back and cupped her ass. He pulled her closer to him, tightly. Her legs were snug around his waist and she still felt like they weren’t close enough. She still felt like they should just get a little bit closer. Just a little bit more, and then everything would be fine.
Everything would be okay.
Luke kissed her cheek, then her ear, then her neck. He sucked, nipping at her. Willow let out a moan.
“I want you, baby,” he whispered.
“I want you, too.”
“I know. I can fucking smell you. You need this as much as I do, Willow. Tell me you need this.”
“I need it,” she said. Her voice was whiny and desperate. Luke sat on the bed with Willow straddling his lap. She could feel his cock pressing up against her and it only made her want him more.
She wiggled her hips against him, pressing harder. His cock strained against his pants, silently begging to be let loose. Willow was happy to oblige.
She slid off his lap and slowly took off her clothes. One by one, she stripped out of her robe, her shirt, her pants. She pulled off her bra and dropped her panties so she was bare before him.
Luke didn’t move.
His hands were clenched into fists on his knees, like he couldn’t quite control himself, like he was about to go insane with need if she didn’t hurry.
Willow dropped to her knees.
She ran her hands over her breasts and pinched her nipples until they were hard. Her legs were spread, giving Lukanterao a perfect view of her pink shaved pussy. She moved her hands up over her neck and through her hair. Then Willow closed her eyes and pretending Luke was the one touching her.
She moved her hands back down her body, taking her time. She touched every inch of herself, then her hands reached her pussy. She was wet, soaked, but they both knew it already. The air smelled like her. It smelled like her desire, her need. It smelled like want.
“Willow,” he groaned, and she knew she had him. Willow opened her eyes. Lukanterao was looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He was looking at her like he’d die if he couldn’t be inside of her.
Fortunately, she was happy to oblige.
She leaned forward and began to pull off his pants.
“What are you doing?” He whispered.
“Something I should have done a long time ago,” she said.
It took a bit of fumbling, but she managed to slide his pants and underwear down to his ankles, then off his legs. She tossed the fabric aside and moved closer. This was what she really wanted to do, what she’d been waiting to do.
Willow didn’t care that her sister and Les were somewhere on the ship. She didn’t care that they might know what she was doing. Hell, Wilma apparently had way more experience that Willow, and she hadn’t even known. That was good, though. Wilma deserved to be happy. She deserved to feel sexy.
Now it was Willow’s turn.
She was a seductress as she moved. She was a wicked angel. She was a naughty girl, and she loved the way that made her feel. She reached for his cock, felt it heavy and thick in her hand. Willow slid her hand up and down for a moment and Luke let out a growl.
“Fuck, baby,” he managed to say. She was only just getting started, though. Willow leaned down and flicked her tongue along the tip of his cock. She swirled it, encircling the head, then took the shaft down her throat.
Blowing Luke was a thrill, a rush. It made her feel like she was more in control of everything than she’d ever been her entire life. It made her feel like she was on top of the fucking world. It made her feel like she was a goddess.
His cock slid deeper into her throat, but he didn’t rush her. He simply allowed her to get used to his size, allowed her to get used to him being deep inside of her.
He tasted like sin and perfection wrapped in one lovely package.
Willow had waited her entire life to meet a man like Luke, and now she couldn’t imagine her world without him. She couldn’t imagine going back to who she was before. She couldn’t imagine going back to living the way she had on Mars. She had been alone and scared and isolated.
She had been afraid.
She had been weak.
Now she was strong. Now she was taking what she wanted from the man she wanted. Oh, she wasn’t naïve. He could stop her at any time. The fact that he didn’t only made her even more excited.
She wanted him even more.
Willow moved back to her feet. She reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head. Luke was still sitting on the cushion bed and she was standing in front of him. She reached for him, bringing his head to her chest. He sucked her breast into his mouth.
“Luke,” she groaned. “That’s right. Right there.” She ran her hands through his hair and pulled him closer. He switched breasts, licking and sucking her nipples until they were sore and swollen.
“I need to be inside of you,” he groaned. He kissed her again and lifted her up. She moved so she was straddling is lap, and he lowered Willow onto his dick. She cried out as he filled her. She’d never been so full, so sated. He thrust up into her and she cried out.
She held onto his shoulders for support as he thrust into her, deeper and deeper until she couldn’t take it anymore. He bit her nipples and she felt it all the way to her clit, all the way to her very core. She came on him, hard, and whispered his name as she exploded.
“Lukanterao,” she said. “Luke.”
“Fuck, baby, that was hot,” he groaned. “I can’t take much more. I’m going to come, too. I’m going to come inside of you, naughty girl.”
“Come for me,” she said. Luke dug his nails into her back and squeezed, pressing her closer to him. She felt his cock pulsing inside of her, filling her with his come. His seed spilled into her body, deep inside of her, and Willow was calmed.
She was relaxed.
She was fucking in love.
She’d never felt anything like this moment.
They collapsed on the bed, tired and happy.
“I love you,” he whispered again.
Willow smiled and ran her hand over the little bit of stubble on his cheek. She could get used to this.
“I love you,” she whispered.
Their journey might not be easy and it might not be simple and he might have to save her a couple more times, but as long as she had Luke by her side, Willow knew she could conquer the world.
She knew she could fly.
THE END
About the Author
Sophie Stern writes paranormal romance and contemporary erotica for readers who like to have fun and explore new worlds. When she’s not busy writing, you can find her pole dancing or reading zombie novels. Sophie lives with her ex-military husband who is always happy to help her conduct research for her books.
Find out more or at www.sexysophiestern.com or join her mailing list to receive updates and information on sales.
Other Books by Sophie
Alien Stories
Alien Dragon
Honeypot Darlings
The Bear’s Virgin Darling
The Bear’s Virgin Mate
The Bear’s Virgin Bride
Honeypot Darlings
Want more paranormal romance?
I have a series called Honeypo
t Darlings featuring three sexy shifter brothers.
Wyatt, Carter, and Micah are all different in their own ways, but they each share one very important similarity: they’re all bear shifters!
In The Bear’s Virgin Darling, Hope moves to Honeypot for a fresh start. She doesn’t expect anything, but a paycheck. Then she meets Wyatt and everything changes.
Here you can read the first three chapters of this book for free! If you prefer to jump right into the novel, you can get your own copy on Amazon here.
***
Chapter 1
Hope
Hope.
That’s my name.
My parents struggled for years to have a baby and then finally, they had me. They named me Hope to remind themselves that things can always get better. No matter how tough life gets, there’s always a way to make things better.
Always.
It doesn’t matter if you’re old or young or skilled or uneducated. No matter what you’re going through, you can get through it.
As I grip the steering wheel of my beat-up Saturn so hard I think my hands might bleed, their words run through my mind.
“Sorry, Mama,” I whisper. “There’s no hope this time.”
The highway is empty and I’ve been driving for hours. I still have at least two to go until I reach beautiful, isolated, far-from-home Honeypot, Colorado.
I don’t know a damn thing about the town except that it’s a 12-hour drive from my rink-a-dink hometown in Missouri and that I have a job interview with some ranch.
Like I know anything about ranching.
That doesn’t matter though. I learned this great skill in drama class called “fake it ‘til you make it,” and that’s exactly what I plan to do.
Holbrook can kiss my ass and so can Jacob Clint. Did he really think I wouldn’t find out he was fucking my best friend?
Did she?
It’s been a month since I caught them fooling around, but the pain hasn’t dimmed. It took me a whole month to sell my stuff, give my landlord ample notice I was leaving, and set up this damn job interview.
I applied for a few gigs closer to home, but when I saw the posting for a ranch hand in Colorado, I couldn’t resist applying. I’m still shocked they liked my application. I’m still shocked they called me.
Granted, I could show up tomorrow and they might tell me to get lost, but it’s something new, something different, something brave.
It’s something to keep my mind off how badly my heart hurts.
I hope Jacob and Margaret are very happy together in hell.
I press the gas pedal a little bit harder.
I can’t wait to get to Nowhere, Colorado. Not too much further now. I blast my music and stare out the window, driving with one hand down the highway. My car is loaded with my life’s belongings. I sure as hell hope I get the job because if I don’t, I’m going to be stuck in Colorado with no house, no job, and no boyfriend.
Soon my stomach growls and I stop for a quick burger at a fast food place just off the highway. The only two things at the exit are a gas station and a fast food chain, so I eat my run-of-the-mill burger in silence, stretch my legs, and fill up the tank. My thoughts alternate between being horrified Jacob was the best I could do and being horrified that I won’t get the job.
I need the job.
Unfortunately, my thoughts are so focused that I don’t realize when the speed limit drops from 75 to 55 just outside of Honeypot. The sirens in the rearview mirror give me the notice and I growl in frustration as I pull over.
Dammit.
A ticket is not what I need right now. I barely have enough money saved for a hotel room while I’m in Honeypot. If I don’t get the job, or if I have a bunch of unexpected expenses, I will definitely be living out of my car.
This is a problem because my car is full of clothes, books, and trinkets I couldn’t leave behind.
Taking a deep breath, I place my hands on the steering wheel and wait for the officer to run my plates. I’ve never had a ticket before, but I’ve been pulled over, and I remember the cop explaining that he had to call in the license plate before he even came to speak with me.
After a few minutes, my heart finally begins to slow, and I realize that this was just an honest mistake. Besides, getting a ticket isn’t the worst thing that could happen to a girl like me. By the time the officer gets out of his car and walks toward mine, I’ve convinced myself that I’ll handle this like an adult.
I definitely will not cry in front of this stranger. Maybe I’ve been through a lot, but crying in front of strangers is definitely a hard limit for me. Unfortunately, as I begin to roll my window down – yes, my car is so old that I have to roll the window down – I catch a glimpse of the cop and he’s no tubby police officer.
No, this guy is tall, cut, and fit to be tied.
Dammit.
My mouth goes dry when he approaches and I’m very aware of the fact that I’ve been in a car all day and probably smell like stale French fries.
“Hello, ma’am,” the officer greets me, standing outside my window. He places one hand on top of my car and peers in the window at me. I swallow loudly as I stare at his aviators.
He’s so tall he almost has to bend in half to peek into my car. Suddenly, I wish I was wearing a low-cut shirt to give him a show. He smiles brightly, his perfectly white teeth shining in the evening sunset. And oh, is he filling out that uniform in all the right places.
“Fuck me,” I say out loud, and I immediately cover my mouth with my hand and start shaking my head. Shit! Shit. Shit. Shit. I did not mean to say that out loud. “I’m sorry,” I mumble, and look away, completely embarrassed. I can’t believe I just said that to a stranger.
To my surprise, the police officer doesn’t get upset, though. He just chuckles.
“New to the area?” He says, and I nod, but don’t say anything. “Well, do you know why I pulled you over?”
This is the part where I feign innocence. This is the part where I cry damsel, where I say that I just got out of a bad relationship and I’m trying to get a fresh start. This is the part where I say I didn’t know any better, where I missed the sign.
Only when he lowers his glasses and I see his deep brown eyes, I know I can’t lie to this cop.
Something tells me he’ll know whether I’m telling the truth or not.
Something tells me he doesn’t do lies.
“I was speeding,” I blurt out, and again, cover my mouth. What is with my bluntness around this guy?
He nods, and asks for my registration and driver’s license. I hand both over to him, cringing the entire time. He flips over my license and eyes my registration, then he asks me the question I’ve been dreading.
“And where are you headed, ma’am?”
I point to the exit that’s just up ahead, number 234.
“Honeypot,” I say. “I have a job interview tomorrow.”
“Is that so, miss?” He looks surprised, and I wonder why. I’m guessing not too many new people come to Honeypot. It’s basically in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by dense forests. The last exit was about ten miles back, so I’d say it’s pretty isolated.
“It’s not full of murderers, is it?” I ask him on a whim, wondering what secrets I’ll discover in the tiny town. “Because if you say it is, I’ll turn right on back around.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “No murderers. No need to worry about that. Now, you just hold tight.” He heads back to his car and does something. I sit still, not bothering to play with my phone or pretend to listen to music. I don’t have anyone to text and I doubt I get cell service out here, anyway.
Lucky for me, dating Jacob really ruined my friendships, so I don’t have anyone to care that I’m gone. There’s no one to miss me, no one to call. Everyone hated him and when I was with him, I became this unrecognizable bitch. It was my own fault, but the truth still hurts.
Finally, the officer returns and gives me a ticket. He looks at me, all business
, and tells me to slow down.
“Yeah,” I say, taking it glumly. I shove it in my glove compartment, along with my registration. My license goes back in my wallet. “I’ll do that.”
“Best of luck in Honeypot,” he says, trying to be friendly. I can tell he’s the kind of cop who takes pride in his work, who doesn’t give out tickets just to be mean. Still, it’s annoying he chose me to target for his ticket-writing today.
“Yeah. Thanks. I hear the Blair Ranch is beautiful,” I say, trying my best to stay calm. Don’t cry, Hope. Don’t think about how much this ticket is going to cost you, Hope. “Hopefully it’ll be everything it’s rumored to be.”
“The Blair Ranch?” He cocks his head, suddenly interested. His body is turned, like he’s going to walk back to his car, but he pauses, waiting to hear more.
“Yeah, I have an interview there tomorrow,” I say. I try not to meet his eyes. Those dark brown, beautiful, gorgeous, could-get-lost-in-them eyes are just too much. This guy must be drowning in pussy because he’s seriously hot. “I’m hoping I’ll get it,” I add, motioning toward the back of my car. “Obviously.”
He looks in the backseat, seemingly noticing the boxes for the first time.
“Is that so?” He says. I can’t tell if he’s curious, amused, or annoyed. This guy is completely unreadable to me, which is fine. I’m not looking for a relationship. I’m only looking for a job and possibly a new vibrator if this town has a sex store, which I’m guessing it doesn’t, based on its current population size.
“Yeah, well, who knows how many people they interviewed?” I shrug. I really shouldn’t get my hopes up. “But the guy wanted to see me in person, so I guess that’s good, right?”
Why the hell am I talking so much? This poor cop doesn’t need to hear my life story or how nervous I am about the interview.