She stole a sidelong glance at her stoic companion. Was basic and utilitarian really the impression she wanted to make on such an incredible man?
Of course not. While she wasn’t about to invite him into her bed right there and then, a woman had her pride to consider.
“Many of these are matching sets. I thought you’d like to see the lower half to get the full effect.” The elderly woman paired together several bras and panties with finicky precision, setting them aside for closer inspection.
Deanna’s eyes widened involuntarily at the selection presented. These weren’t just the ultrafeminine undergarments she’d come to expect from seeing Miss Ginnie’s living room; they were deadly weapons, an arsenal for seduction.
She fought to keep her gaze trained ahead and not to peek sideways to check Graeme’s reaction. Her newly revived libido tantalized her with images of her standing before him wearing only the sexy garments. Her nipples tingled, tightening reflexively, as heat pooled in her belly. If she truly wanted him in her bed while she was in Woodrose, Miss Ginnie’s wares could only help.
Graeme eyed the flimsy scraps of lace displayed before him, hard pressed to maintain an expression of calm disinterest. If Deanna knew he was imagining how she’d look wearing nothing else but that itsy-bitsy red number she held up, she’d probably run away screaming.
Little had he known when he suggested going to Miss Ginnie’s that he’d set himself up for torture.
He’d heard some female deputies refer to the librarian as a “passion consultant,” but he hadn’t realized just how seriously they’d meant that description. Good God, he now couldn’t help wondering if they wore that stuff under their uniforms—as a matter of scientific curiosity, of course. He’d never thought of them that way before and didn’t want to start now.
Deanna, on the other hand…
He was more than willing to imagine her in any of the naughty numbers displayed on the table. But it still shocked the conservative wolf in him to learn that the little old librarian who baked him fudge brownies for Christmas peddled the stuff.
Not that he was about to say anything. It had been his idea to come here, after all.
“Why don’t you try them on?” Miss Ginnie suggested, nothing about her manner indicating that her invitation or his presence was out of the ordinary. With an aside to him that they wouldn’t be long, she led Deanna down the hall to another room, carrying some pieces in which Deanna had apparently expressed interest.
Graeme followed their progress through a mirror in the hall, delighted when they didn’t close the door. The two women clearly hadn’t noticed the mirror’s strategic location. Well, he wasn’t about to tell them.
Deanna winced as she pulled off her tank top with Miss Ginnie’s help, slowly revealing a large, violently purple bruise on the left side of her ribcage.
The librarian clucked at the sight, too softly for Graeme to make out any words but definitely outraged.
He scowled in agreement.
If Henckel hadn’t been in jail, uninjured despite his role in the accident, Graeme would’ve been tempted to share the hurt…with interest. As it was, it took everything he had to stay on the couch and not charge into the next room to check Deanna’s condition up close.
All thought of wringing that young idiot’s neck vanished, however, when Deanna shed her bra.
Forgetting about stealth, he stared at the bounty revealed in the mirror. High round globes with just the slightest hint of sag. Pale and creamy, like the underbelly of a mountain lion. His palms itched just looking at them—and looking from a distance, at that.
With a feeling of unreality, Graeme watched as Deanna tried on one sexy confection after another, twisting and turning as she checked the fit. Each one seemed designed to showcase her assets to their throat-drying, cock-hardening best advantage.
He shifted his weight against the too-tight fit of his jeans. Damn, but she looked edible! She smelled it, too. He resisted the urge to stroke his hard-on; Deanna wasn’t prancing around to tempt him deliberately, and he knew very well he couldn’t finish himself in Miss Ginnie’s living room.
Deanna changed to another bra that plumped up her breasts, raising the mounds as though presenting them to a lover. The two women broke into conspiratorial giggles as Deanna scrutinized the result from various angles.
Graeme’s inner wolf growled approval of the lavish display. He hurriedly reached down and adjusted himself. All he needed was for his circulation to get cut off for his torture to be complete. But still he couldn’t tear his gaze from the mirror, not until Deanna and Miss Ginnie made to rejoin him.
By the time they did, he had his hands clasped together over his belt, trying for the innocence of a choirboy. There was something crude about flaunting an erection in front of a woman old enough to be his granddam. He couldn’t do it. The mere thought of that formidable woman was enough to melt the steel of his hard-on.
But Deanna came away with a sizable bag of new lingerie. Just the sight of it made his cock twitch with renewed interest as soon as they were back in the Jeep; it didn’t help that the smell of her excitement was stronger than ever, marking the interior with her presence.
Unless he wanted to sport a woody for the next several weeks, he’d have to give the Jeep a deep and thorough scrubbing after she left. Though if he had anything to say about it, she wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.
The rest of Deanna’s errands stretched her nerves to humming anticipation, although—or maybe because—she now wore a fresh bikini panty and its matching bra. The fact that Graeme knew what her underwear looked like had her squirming with an inconvenient awareness. The knowledge that she had several sets of the lacy stuff was sufficient for her libido to concoct titillating fantasies of parading them before him.
It didn’t help knowing that Graeme reciprocated her attraction. Despite his gentlemanly demeanor, the bulge tenting his jeans was unmistakable. Since it hadn’t been there before, that most definitely was not a gun in his pocket.
They stopped by a small store that turned out to be an old-fashioned grocery that sold a little bit of everything, its goods displayed on weathered shelves with charming artlessness. There was something unbearably intimate about shopping for food together. Even a simple choice between apples and pears took on new meaning, as though she and Graeme were weaving the strands of their lives together at a deeper level than mere sharing of bodies. It was like his saving her had forged a bond between them that was being tempered by the everyday activities and growing stronger.
She didn’t know what to make of it. An affair was one thing, but a relationship was out of the question when she didn’t plan to stay in Woodrose for long.
Unnerved by the trend of her thoughts, Deanna tried to dismiss them as she filled her basket with food, books, and supplies. She bought enough to last her a few days, hoping she wouldn’t have to depend on Graeme to help her restock.
It didn’t do any good.
Her libido insisted on remembering how his arms had felt around her shoulders when he’d plucked her out of her car, how the hard slopes of his broad chest had flexed under her hands, how his thigh had pressed on her mound when she’d straddled him. Just that one embrace had seared him in her memory.
Trying to avoid reliving it only brought back more details. His faint sweaty scent that was all male. The warmth of his body and the heat of his embrace. The bass rumble of his voice, like a mountain given speech, crooning reassurance.
By the time Graeme took a turnoff onto a dirt road that climbed the mountainside, Deanna was in a pother of need. The bumps on the uneven track as it wound among the trees only made it worse, rubbing her clenched thighs together and rolling her mound around her aching clit as the Jeep bounced onward.
Wondering how he was taking their extended companionship, Deanna stole a glance at the muscular deputy. If anything, his erection had only grown more pronounced, the taut ridge extending to mouthwatering proportions.
She swallo
wed with difficulty, pure lust tightening her throat. When they got to the cabin, would he do anything?
Would she?
Deanna trembled, poised at a decision point, wondering which way was best…and which way she’d jump.
A weathered split-rail fence was her first indication they were nearing their destination and that their time together was running out. It paralleled the dirt road for a short distance, then disappeared into the woods. Shortly after, the trees thinned, giving way to a small clearing dominated by a lone structure.
The log cabin looked more than a century old, its roughhewn timber silvery with age, the alternating stripes of light and dark wood giving an interesting, if basic, pattern to its walls. Two small windows pierced the side facing their approach but there were none on the empty porch that spanned the bare frontage. Deanna’s instincts told her the interior would be just as austere.
Still, the prospect didn’t distract her libido from more important things. Like whether Graeme’s cock lived up to the promise of his large hands and feet.
She flushed at the erotic image that conjured.
Should she ask him in? He might take that as an invitation to her bed…which it could be.
Graeme brought the Jeep to a halt before Deanna could make up her mind. While she was distracted by her warring impulses, he got out and quickly rounded the hood to open her door for her. “Let me help you with those,” he offered, relieving her of her heavier purchases.
“I can manage,” she protested, sliding out of the Jeep to gather the few remaining bags.
“I’m here anyway, so you don’t have to,” he replied in a reasonable tone.
Since arguing would only have been ungracious, she let him have his way. “Thank you.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say that wouldn’t sound stridently stiff-necked; it wasn’t as if he was injured and needed to take it easy.
Deanna’s breasts throbbed as they walked the short distance to the porch together, Graeme carrying the bulk of her purchases and matching his stride to hers without comment. He’d leave soon. If she didn’t do anything, he’d go his way and she’d be left with this aching desire and no relief.
She didn’t want her hand, as easy and uncomplicated as that would be, eliminating the issue of a relationship versus an affair. She wanted him, wanted Graeme inside her, that powerful body between her thighs, fucking all her questions out of her mind. Her mouth dried at the mental picture. Oh, yes.
After unlocking the door, Deanna turned to him, her nerves singing with tension. Did she ask him in? Ask him to kiss her? Something. Anything to prolong their time together.
His mouth descended on hers in an aggressive kiss—a frankly carnal one of possession, hungry and dominant. Taking what she offered freely and claiming more.
Her wits fled, shredded as need clawed at her, demanding satisfaction. Here. Now.
Yes!
She tore at his shirt, itching to have her hands on his wide chest, craving the feel of skin on skin. Pulling at it, she found the hem and pushed it up to bare his chest. The crisp hairs that met her questing fingers made her purr with anticipation. That against her cheeks and her breasts! Her breath hitched at the thought.
Equally impatient, Graeme disposed of her shorts, shoving them down her legs, along with her panty. Hard fingers probed her slit, plunged into her wet pussy.
“Oh, yes.” Groaning, Deanna widened her stance to take him deeper, to let him touch her however he wanted. She’d never known she could need anything so much. His fingers stretched her, filling her as she hadn’t been filled in a long time. “More,” she begged. “Deeper, Graeme.”
He stroked her, pumping strongly, sending sparks of delight dancing along her nerves. He cursed fervently when she gushed hot cream on his palm.
Moaning wordlessly, Deanna scrabbled at his belt, desperate for more. She needed his cock inside her; as good as he was with his hands, it wasn’t enough.
Graeme hissed when she rubbed the hard ridge of his erection. Brushing her hands aside, he unzipped his fly and freed his cock. It rose out of his jeans, thick and flushed, a bead of clear fluid on its broad tip.
Impatient to have him, she wrapped her hand around his proud flesh and aimed him at her slit.
“Wait,” he choked out, catching her wrist. “Condom.”
Oh, God! She’d nearly forgotten. “Hurry!” He was so hard, hot and smooth to touch, like velvet and peach fuzz to her restless fingers, she was tempted to forgo protection.
He reached behind and pulled out a familiar packet, obviously prepared for emergencies. Which was good since Deanna felt like she’d explode if he didn’t take her soon. She snatched it out of his hands and tore it open, to sheathe his thick cock with its veined shaft in thin latex.
The condom only served to emphasize his girth. The sight whetted her desire, making her core spasm with need.
Backing her against the rough wall, he shoved his cock into her dripping pussy, as impatient as she.
With her nerves wound to the breaking point by the prolonged buildup, molten rapture erupted through Deanna at his welcome invasion, her orgasm like fiery lava in her veins. She gasped his name, helpless to deny her response.
Graeme wielded his body like a blunt instrument of brutal pleasure, pounding her into exquisite and utter submission. With tender ferocity, he rode her up another precipice to a greater, more devastating climax.
She clung to him, helpless in the face of all that ecstasy. All her imaginings through the long morning spent with him hadn’t prepared her for the raw fury he unleashed in her body.
Unfazed by her release, he drove her higher, faster, climbing further into the soaring peaks of carnal rapture.
Pleasure crashed through her in wave after overwhelming wave, demolishing all her previous definitions of the word. Her shattered senses fled until all she knew was an endless rolling orgasm that swept her away.
Deanna returned to herself with a whimper, an unfamiliar, rhythmic sensation nagging for attention. She blinked her eyes open to find Graeme stroking her cheek, his blue gaze turned silver with concern. Slowly, her senses came back online, reporting various discomforts: a sore throat, the rough wood against her back, crisp hair rasping against her breasts, her body stretched and still impaled on his, her legs locked around his hips.
“You back now?” His subterranean rumble flowed through her, reaching down to rock her quivering core.
“Yeah.” For some reason, her voice was hoarse.
“Good.” He took her lips leisurely this time, exploring her mouth and tangling his tongue with hers. Enticing her to play. As though he wasn’t already deep inside her.
Replete with pleasure, she reciprocated, content at the slower pace, needing time to recover. The multiple orgasms had been impossibly mind-blowing; she’d never imagined herself capable of experiencing such ecstasy.
Graeme’s hands started wandering, his hard fingers tracing patterns on her sensitized flesh. They found her breasts and teased them to greater firmness, tweaking and rolling her tight nipples. His gentle play stoked the fire in her belly, sending hot need coiling through her responsive core.
Suddenly hungry for more, Deanna clenched her thighs, grinding her mound on his pelvis, trying for an angle that got her clit. She moaned as sweet delight washed over her in a gush of liquid heat.
He probed between them and found her erect nub, coaxing a greater response from her body.
She cried out in wordless disbelief as ravenous lust speared through her, an aching void that demanded filling, that craved carnal satisfaction. Good God, hadn’t those incredible orgasms been enough?
“Ready for more?” He resumed thrusting, his hips pistoning in a slow, measured pace, pumping her to a silent meter. Despite her previous climaxes, he felt larger than before, thicker than ever. Didn’t he come earlier?
His cock shuttled into her, the flare of his head rasping against her inner membranes. In and out. In and in and in until he was snugged against her core.
Then out…out…out, holding to his timing with steely deliberation. He did it over and over. Endlessly. Building her desire higher and higher, but not allowing her release.
Until Deanna was nearly out of her mind with need, begging for relief. “Graeme, please!”
Clawing his shoulders for traction, she writhed in his arms, trying for that perfect angle, the slightest more pressure to tip her over the edge. If only she could make it!
But he had her trapped against the wall, could control just how much of him she got. And he wielded his thick cock with ruthless skill.
Deanna howled as the tension in her core scaled a few notches higher. “Let me come, Graeme!” Her world seemed to narrow down to her body, to the erotic friction of his chest hair on her breasts and nipples, and the conflagration between her thighs.
Flexing his buns, he grunted as his balls kissed her thighs. “Not just yet.”
Oh, God! How much longer could he last?
His head dipped to her shoulder where teasing nibbles added shivers of delight to her predicament. “Damn, you smell so good!” He sucked on her earlobe, the shocking sensation like a live wire plugged directly into her core.
It shattered her.
“Yes!” Graeme was suddenly pounding into her, taking her beyond anything she’d known before. His hips jerked, his cock pulsing and twitching inside her.
Pure incandescent rapture exploded in her core, a runaway steam engine pouring scalding heat through her body. It flooded her veins with unspeakable ecstasy too potent to deny.
She screamed in wordless relief, her voice mingling with Graeme’s as he gave in to his orgasm. The moment spun out endlessly, an eternity of breathtaking pleasure that blinded her to everything else.
Wrung out by her release, Deanna floated in his arms, waiting for restlessness and panic to close in on her. But nothing came to disturb her peace.
3
A hard band suddenly tightening across her waist startled Deanna out of well-earned sleep. Wondering where she was, she lifted her head off a thick hooked rug in front of a cold fireplace. At some point, Graeme had carried her into the cabin. She hadn’t been paying much attention since he’d been inside her at the time, his motions too stimulating to ignore.
Sexy Beast II Page 18