Her eyes rolled back in her head as she moaned, pushing herself into his hand. He rubbed, flicked, took it between his fingers and twisted, and holy shit, she was sensitive as fuck. The sensations were so intense, they were borderline painful, but she didn’t want him to stop. She never wanted him to stop.
Releasing her mouth, he pulled back and started playing with her other nipple. Leaning down in front of the first, he replaced his fingers with his mouth, wrapping his free arm around her waist and supporting her when her knees weakened and she had trouble holding herself up.
Oh fuck, this was delicious. Better than she ever imagined it could be. He kept his mouth gentle, suckling and tonguing her nipple softly, like he sensed she was too sensitive for more. And every pull of his mouth sent a bolt of pleasure through her body, shooting straight for her core. She knew if he touched her there now, she’d be soaking wet. That was the effect he had on her.
Wanting him, deciding to act on it, was the absolute best decision she ever made in her life, hands down. She couldn’t imagine anything feeling as good as this did.
And then he moved his mouth to her other nipple and let his hand trail down over the swell of her belly. He traced the edge of the elastic band of her shorts, and then slid his hand inside those and her panties, cupping her center. She was so wet that his fingers slipped inside without him even trying, and when they brushed her clit, she swore stars danced in her vision.
Okay, she was wrong. There was absolutely something that could feel as good as him playing with her nipples. No, better. This was the most amazing thing she’d ever felt.
Letting her nipple slip from his mouth, he captured her lips again, kissing her fiercely as his fingers played. The sensations were so intense, so overwhelming, that she couldn’t even participate in the kiss. All she could do was clutch his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin.
He circled her clit, moving faster with every pass, and then rubbed directly over it. Holy shit, the rough pads of his fingertips were amazing, sparking sensations inside her she hadn’t known were possible.
He pulled his finger away, and she whimpered against his mouth as he eased back. Hooking his fingers in her waistband, he pulled her shorts and panties down, and she kicked them away as his fingers went straight back to her core.
This time, he rubbed her clit for a moment before moving his fingers down, easing first one, then another, inside her. He slowly pumped them in and out gaining speed as he pressed his palm over her clit, putting much needed pressure on it.
She started to kiss him, and then buried her face in the crook of his neck instead, muffling the loud, uncontrollable moan spilling from her throat. She normally rarely got off, and when she did, it took a lot of work. Work most men weren’t willing to put in.
But he’d only just started, and she was already right on the edge of an orgasm. She just needed something—
Jameson moved his hand, changing the angle of his fingers, at the same time his thumb pressed firmly against her clit. And that was it. She exploded, flying high, so high it scared her.
But this was Jameson. And no matter how high she soared, she knew he’d always be there to catch her when she came back down.
The fear left her at the thought, and she let go, flying high in the heavens—no, higher than even that, up into the galaxy. Her body was convulsing with pleasure, and she had the distant thought that surely she looked like she was having a seizure, but she couldn’t even begin to make herself care about that right now.
The pleasure was so insanely overwhelming that she didn’t have room for any thought at all.
When it finally started easing and she became aware of her surroundings again, she found, to her horror, that she had her teeth planted in Jameson’s shoulder. And she had no idea for how long, or how hard she’d bitten down as her orgasm consumed her.
She immediately released him, horrified by the mark on his skin, the perfect outline of her teeth. “Oh, God, Jamie, I’m so, so fucking sorry.”
He cocked his head, looking confused. “What in the world for?”
Gesturing at his shoulder, she looked at him helplessly. “For biting you. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t even realize I was doing it. I hope it didn’t hurt. What am I saying? Of course it did. It had to, to leave a mark like that.”
He glanced at his shoulder, but she didn’t think he could see it. The angle was all wrong. “There’s nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. I enjoyed it. It barely hurt, and only in the best possible way. I loved it.”
Brow twitching, she searched his swirly blue eyes, but they were open and honest. The concept of enjoying pain was a foreign one to her, but she had to admit—being marked by him, even in a small way like that, would most likely feel amazing.
Not that she ever wanted to find out for sure.
“In that case, let’s continue, shall we?” she asked with a smile.
Turning, she started to climb into bed and then froze when she heard his swiftly inhaled breath. She felt him gently touch his finger to a few spots on her back and hips, and she closed her eyes. Fuck. She forgot all about that shit. She couldn’t believe she had. It was always in the back of her mind, but she hadn’t once thought of it tonight. If she had, she would have insisted on keeping her shirt on, maybe having them both under the covers as soon as her clothes were off. Or even before. She could undress while under the covers.
When he spoke, his voice was full of barely leashed fury, and she flinched. Not at him—never at him. She wasn’t at all scared of him, but he was so very obviously furious, and she hated it. If only she’d been thinking clearly, she could have maybe kept him from seeing them at all.
“What the fuck is this, Cadence? The scars look like burn marks. Like cigarette burns, only bigger.”
“They’re from a cigar. And no, I don’t want to talk about it. Not now, and maybe never.”
“Cady—”
Turning, she shook her head adamantly. “No. If you can’t accept that, or if the scars disgust you or turn you off, then we should stop. And I won’t be mad, I promise. I know they’re ugly. It’s okay. I’ll understand.”
No, she wouldn’t be upset or mad. But she couldn’t deny, if he decided he didn’t want her because of them, that she’d be hurt as hell, maybe worse than she’d been when she was on the receiving end of the glowing, hot as fuck cigar cherries that made those marks.
He shook his head in disbelief. “I won’t ask you about them, but like with your name, the disguises, the way you’re running, I want to know. And I hope you’ll tell me the truth one day. And they sure as fuck don’t turn me off, or make me want you less. Does this feel like a man who doesn’t want you?”
Grabbing her hand, he pressed his palm onto his hard erection, and sweet Jesus. The bulge she felt earlier hadn’t deflated one bit, still straining to break out of his jeans. And it was so big. She couldn’t wait to see it fully, without anything barring her view of it.
Unable to help curling her fingers around it as much as she could, she squeezed, delighting in his resulting groan. The sound went straight to her core, and she squirmed as her desire came roaring back to life, the flames of it licking at her skin.
“Then why don’t you take off these jeans and climb into bed with me? Let’s do something about this, hmmm?”
Smiling as he cursed, she turned back around and climbed in the huge bed, scooting up the middle to the pillows. She looked over at him to find him still staring after her, pushing the heel of his hand against his erection. She arched an eyebrow, and he sprung into motion, quickly popping the button of his jeans open.
Moving to his zipper, he went slower, easing it down as he hissed a breath. Looking on in interest, she squinted. Those were blue boxers he was wearing, she thought. But she didn’t care about what color his boxers were. She wanted to see what was hiding underneath them. He hooked his thumbs in both waistbands and shoved them down, stumbling in his haste to step out of them.
Her initial thought was
to laugh, but the desire to do so quickly fled as she got a look at him. His dick was long and impossibly thick, straining upward, veiny with a dark purple head. She’d never in her life thought a cock could be gorgeous, but his absolutely was. She clenched her thighs together, feeling the moisture staring at it had conjured seeping out of her.
Oh, tonight was going to be so much fun.
He climbed onto the bed, crawling up her body until he was hovering over her. He kissed her again, and it quickly turned passionate, like it always did. His lips were on the thinner side, but just as soft as she thought they were when she first saw him. And skilled. Lord Almighty, were his lips ever skilled.
As were his hands. And she had a feeling the rest of him was just as skilled. She couldn’t wait to find out for herself.
He lowered himself a little, his chest pressing against her but his strong arms holding him up just enough that his stomach barely brushed hers. Pulling back, he slid his mouth to her ear again before trailing it down her neck, and she fought a shiver as he licked her skin. One of his hands began roaming, and she started writhing underneath him, her blood boiling.
Rearing back, he took his dick in his hand and brushed it against her folds. She sucked in a breath at the sensation but fought to hold onto her wits for a moment longer.
“Wait, Jamie. I haven’t touched you yet. Haven’t gotten you ready.”
He let out a strained laugh. “Does it look like I need to be gotten ready? Besides, if you touch me right now, this will be over before it begins.”
It was obvious he was telling the truth, and a thrill shot through her at his words. She loved that she had the power to affect him so much, just like he did her. She gave him a nod, her smile just a tiny bit smug.
“Okay, then. But one day, I want to touch you.”
“As long as there’s the possibility of this happening again, I’m happy. You’re more than welcome to touch me whenever you want. Just maybe not now.” He glanced down at her belly and frowned. “I’m not sure how to do this. Your belly’s not big, but the logistics… and I don’t want to hurt you. It would kill me if I hurt you.”
Her heart melted in her chest. Just straight dissolved. She wasn’t sure there was anything left of it. She’d never known a man who didn’t enjoy hurting women to prove how big and bad he was. It became obvious fairly early that Jameson wasn’t at all like that. But hearing him say it directly to her, the sincerity in his voice washing over her, body and soul—that was something else entirely, and so incredibly special.
“You won’t hurt me. I’m not fragile, Jamie. And you’re a smart man. You’ll figure out the logistics. I can always get on my hands and knees.”
Pursing his lips, he considered her, gaze moving from her belly to her eyes and back. He finally shook his head. “No, I got this. I just won’t put any pressure on your belly. If you feel me try to, stop me, please.”
God, he was the sweetest. He had the most painful looking erection she’d ever seen, and his expression was strained. She knew he needed relief, but all he was concerned about was her comfort and safety.
He reached over and grabbed a pillow. “Lift your hips. We’ll prop you up. I think it’ll help.”
Fighting a smile, she did as he asked. And then all thoughts flew out of her head when he rubbed himself along her seam. She sucked in a breath, and he looked at her with a question in his eyes. Quickly nodding because she couldn’t handle waiting any longer—needing him inside her now—she held herself still as he coated himself in her wetness, sucking in a breath when the head bumped her clit.
Still up on his knees, he lined himself up with her entrance and slowly began pushing inside. Holy fuck, that was flippin’ amazing. He entered her shallowly before pulling himself back out, then pushed in again, over and over, going deeper each time, until he was seated fully inside her.
He leaned over her just a bit then, planting his hand on the mattress by her shoulder. His arm was trembling and she knew just how he felt. The way he felt inside her, the way she stretched to accommodate him, the way the pleasure lit up all her nerve endings, was overwhelming. Nothing had ever felt this good in her life, but as much as she enjoyed this, she needed him to move.
“Jamie, please. Move. Make love to me.”
His strained expression softened, and he carefully leaned down to kiss her gently. He began moving before he pulled back, and by the time he was propped up again, he was moving harder inside her, more forcefully with every pass.
“Fuck, Cady, you feel amazing,” he gritted out.
Was he growling? It sounded like he was, but she quickly forgot about it as he pushed in hard. Before long, the bed was rocking with the force of his thrusts. She longed to feel him stretched out on top of her, but he was still trying to be careful with her. It wasn’t needed, but she couldn’t seem to find her voice long enough to tell him so.
Maybe it was more accurate to say she couldn’t find her words. Her voice was definitely still working as she moaned long and loud when he shifted and hit a spot that made her think she was going to die of pleasure.
And then he rubbed his fingers over her clit, and she was gone, soaring even higher than she had earlier. She literally shook with pleasure, and she could feel herself contracting around Jameson. It proved too much for him, and he thrust in one more time before holding himself still. She could feel his warmth coating her insides as he pulsed his release into her, and, unbelievably, it set her off again.
She wasn’t sure how long she soared, lost in release, but when she became aware of her surroundings again, Jameson had both hands planted on the mattress. He looked exhausted, and like he’d been as overwhelmed with pleasure as she had, but his eyes were soft and full of something she wasn’t sure she could identify if she wanted to. And she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to.
Leaning down on arms that still had the slightest tremor to them, he kissed her softly, pulling back as it threatened to become intense and turn into more. She couldn’t believe, after what they’d just finished doing, that it could have the potential to turn into more, but she couldn’t deny it did.
He eased out of her and then collapsed beside her. They were both a little sweaty, and she shouldn’t want this kind of closeness and intimacy with him. She should be ready to jump up and go straight to her room and lock herself in for the night. And every night going forward until she left.
Instead, she snuggled into his arms, reveling in the feel of being held so close to him. Why not enjoy it a little? She’d be gone in a few days, and who knows when she’d get this again? Probably never, and even if a miracle happened and she did let herself get this close to a man again, she knew instinctively it would never be like this.
Sadness washed over her, but she pushed it away. She was determined to enjoy this moment, and she wouldn’t let anything ruin it.
“That was amazing,” he said, pressing a kiss to her hair. “You’re amazing.”
“It was pretty damn awesome. Although you really didn’t need to be so careful with me.”
“You’re carrying precious cargo. Yeah, I did need to.”
She shook her head, but she couldn’t help her smile. He was something else. They were quiet for a moment before a thought struck her and she stiffened.
“We didn’t use anything. I mean, pregnancy isn’t a problem, obviously, but we didn’t protect ourselves against anything else. I’ve been tested and I’m clean, but—”
“I’m clean too,” he said, interrupting what was almost certain to become a rambling diatribe. “I’d never put you at risk, sweetheart. Ever.”
She relaxed against him, believing him wholeheartedly. She really should get up and go to her room, but her body was basically boneless, and she couldn’t make herself move. Besides, she was really enjoying being snuggled up next to him.
I’ll move soon, she thought drowsily, fighting to keep her eyes open.
But it was a losing battle, and moments later, she was fast asleep.
Chapte
r Eleven
Jameson walked to the woods, glanced around just in case, and started quickly taking his clothes off. He hated to leave Cady when he could be spending time with her, but he needed to shift. Give his tiger his body for a while. Work through some of the emotions he was feeling.
Most of it was good. Amazing, really. He’d finally met his mate. and she was more than he ever imagined his mate would be. Gorgeous, sweet, strong, kind. And she was pregnant, which was fulfilling his need for a family even faster than he ever thought possible. It was by no means why he wanted her. He’d want her just as much if she wasn’t expecting a baby. But it was an added bonus.
And they’d been amazing in bed together last night. He’d known it would be great with her. He heard over and over that sex with a true mate was the best there was. Still—he hadn’t thought it would be like that. It was explosive. He didn’t think there was another way of describing it.
But despite all that, there was absolutely no guarantee she’d stay here in Durga with him once her car was fixed. He thought she was as into him as he was to her. But she had shit in her past, bad shit, and it might be enough to keep her from being with him on a permanent basis.
Which brought him to the main reason he needed to shift. He’d been filled with fury, fury he was desperately trying to suppress and hide from her, since he saw the burn marks on her delicate skin. He was hoping if he could roam as his tiger for a bit, he could work through some of it. Before she saw it, and thought it was directed at her. That would terrify her, badly. Maybe badly enough that he couldn’t talk her back down again.
Hunching over, he gave his cat his body. The sound of his bones breaking and reforming echoed through the woods, and a flash of intense pain burst through his body. It all happened in an instant, and then he had all four paws on the ground. Shaking out his fur, he took off, bounding through the woods, dodging trees, pushing himself faster and being more reckless than he usually was.
But the fury was still snaking its way through him, and he had to try to work some of it out. If he ever came across the fucker who marked her, who hurt her—Winston, she said—he didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself from killing him. He’d tear that motherfucker to shreds—
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