Chilled?
She glanced down. Sure as shit, her nipples jutted against the wet tee in complete, look-at-us-here-we-are fashion. Mortified, she crossed her arms over the frozen peaks.
Chapter Three
Beth caught the heated look and odd flare of his nostrils just before he’d turned away. She realized he hadn’t missed what she’d just become aware of and subconsciously drew her arms tighter together. Heat bloomed in her cheeks over how oblivious she’d been about her wet tee.
She observed him in quiet admiration as his attentions remained fixed to the ancient-looking fireplace he fiddled with. Beth took in the fine view his backside offered. She bet a coin would bounce right off that derriere of his. No matter how hard she tried, her wild mind veered back to decadently erotic thoughts.
Once the fire cackled to life and its ember flames danced among the dry wood, he rose and headed toward a small chair off in the corner. When he rose to his full height, the cabin appeared to shrink around his massive muscular body. He appeared completely unabashed by his nudity as he stripped off his wet pants, showing no hesitation or embarrassment at the fact he now stood nude, nor that his boner bobbed up against his belly. Hell, he seemed to be sporting the thing like a badge of honor. Yet there she sat, crossing her arms to cover the outline of her tits and fighting to keep her hormones in check.
She would put him at around six foot four, maybe 240 pounds. Yeppers, 240 pounds of pure, aroused beefcake. She should say something, but words congealed in her throat even as decadent thoughts flashed through her mind.
Her hand shot to her mouth, checking to see if drool had formed in the corners. A glance at his expression confirmed the cocky look he wore, and again she worried he could read her mind.
If he could …
She trembled, and it had jack to do with the chill and more to do with the slow steps of the man approaching her. She would almost describe it as stalking. Little did he know if he hadn’t been heading to her, she’d have headed to him. Well, she would have if she’d been able to pull her courage out of her ass.
She’d followed the damn rules all her life, and whether any of this made sense or not, she was going with her instincts, or rather hormones, on this one. Her gut screamed this man was far more than just your average guy. Something told her he was a noble and honorable man who, if nothing else, had saved her ass.
“What is your name?”
“Be … Beth Sloan.” Oh, my God, she’d just frigging squeaked. Her weak-sounding voice irritated her, as well as the fact she was acting more like a damn schoolgirl than the competent woman who should be grilling the large, nearly naked man for information on where she was and how she could get home. Or at the very least, who he was and what he wanted. Okay, maybe just who he was, since what he wanted seemed pretty damn clear. But oy, her mouth grew dry with each heavy step he took.
Her skin tingled, her ears rang, and strange black dots blurred her vision. Then, for no rhyme or reason, everything around her began to spin. Later she’d wonder why, and assume the heat — and by heat she meant all the forms of heat — had gotten the better of her. So much seemed to be happening in such a short span of time. The hunt with Robby, getting lost and the overwhelming urge to jump the man before her. When the strange feeling passed a few moments later, she buried her head between her knees, nearly choking on her own drool in the process.
“Are you unwell?”
“No. Just a dizzy spell, I’ll be fine.” She was thankful he must have assumed her jerky reaction from the dizziness, but hell no, he had himself to thank for her quick head to knees move. She’d done it to buy time to help yank her wits and jaw back in place.
He stood right in front of her, and she knew without looking in a mirror her face covered every varied shade of red imaginable, as her position left her nose to, uh, cock with him. And damned if the thing didn’t keep bobbin’ up and down as if waving hello to her. Though she was no virgin, she was also no slut. She’d seen enough penises, whether in person or online to know the difference between large versus wow, and holy shit, he was generously blessed.
What the hell did one say when placed eye to eye in the most literal sense? Finding no words forthcoming, she did the last thing she’d planned and giggled. Oh, yeah, perfect reaction. She must look like a complete boob right now. Her stomach twisted and turned in several different directions at once, and it took all she had to stifle the nervous giggles fighting for more airtime.
“My pants were in need of drying,” he stated, eyebrow arching questioningly at her nervous laughter.
He obviously was aware where her attentions had centered. She watched, dazed and bedazzled, as he stalked even closer, stopping to kneel before her. Kind eyes, yet assured actions, as if he knew how nervous he made her.
Gazing deeper into his eyes, she caught a slight glint reflecting back, and knew though he understood her wariness, he also acknowledged her physical reaction to him.
She wanted him. She knew it. He knew it.
Just once, she’d like to let go and do something wild and impetuous. Spur of the moment without dragging in all the “what ifs” and overanalyzing the situation to death.
When he knelt, pushing her knees out to the sides to make room for him, she didn’t try to push him away, nor did she even turn her head. Instead, she held his fiery, determined gaze and matched it with a fire of her own.
Desire and intent flew between them as the need and nature of the moment, so basic and pure, overwhelmed them. His lips brushed across hers, and the knots in her stomach fled, replaced by a strong, pulsing heat coursing through her. His tongue pushed past her parted lips and she opened wider in greeting as her hands drew up to his large, strong shoulders. His kiss deepened to the point she thought breathing an overrated inconvenience. And when his rough, leathered hands brushed against her stomach, grasping the hem of her tee, she instinctively stiffened a bit.
A small inner part of her still warned, Wrong. Stranger. Run.
• • •
He drew back, pausing as he sensed her confusion. Though many called him a monster, he would never harm a woman. He saw the apprehension flickering within her eyes as she seemed to search for something within him.
“What is it you want? Do you require something?” He barely held back the primal urge to take her, claim her, and mark her as his, though she wasn’t and could never be.
After only a moment of uncertainty, during which he saw her battle her inner sensibility, did she answer him with a throaty yet confident, “You.”
He loved her bashfulness as she began worrying on her lower lip. Something so innocent, yet utterly seductive as it pulled his gaze to the now-plumped pout. Her pink tongue darting back and forth teased his mind with erotic imagery of where else he’d like to see that tongue of hers.
“You are sure of this? Once started, I may not be able to refrain again,” he warned through teeth clenched tight, barely hanging on to the little bit of restraint he currently had.
She nodded, yet her body trembled beneath his palms, he hoped in anticipation and not fear.
Moss reached down and encircled her waist, lifting her from her crouch on the bed before bending forward and planting a mind-numbing kiss on her mouth. His mind spun from the intensity and this time, when he grabbed the hem of her shirt, she didn’t tense up. Instead, she lifted her arms above her head to assist in its welcomed riddance.
He trailed his tongue from her mouth to the hollow of her neck where he continued his gentle nips until reaching the front clasp of her bra. Her erotic sighs were like music to his ears, urging him onward.
Never before had he experienced this kind of vulnerability — the urgency of wanting her to feel everything he was, from the raging desire to the intense need for her to understand who and what he truly was.
• • •
Beth watc
hed as sculpted shoulders bunched and beads of sweat rolled down, catching in the many golden, muscled crevices of his body. He appeared to be fighting to hold part of himself back. Quivers rocked his body, and she felt like a goddess taking her god to the brink. He turned predatory as his calm façade fled and sheer urgency surfaced. If he wanted it rough, wanted to grab her ankles, spread her wide and plunge in, hello, that worked for her. She wanted all he offered, however he offered.
She gasped in surprise when teeth tore through the front clasp of her bra, leaving the silken remnants to fall to her sides. Her bared breasts swayed from their sudden release. No sooner had she recovered from the shock than his hot mouth latched onto one now very sensitized nipple.
Her pleasured mewls elicited an almost animal-sounding growl from him. Her head lolled back as he suckled one breast then the other, each time lightly blowing across them so that the contrast from cool to hot was near unbearable. He seemed to take delight in her responses and gave both tight buds lavish attention.
He tore his mouth away like she was a succulent pleasure. Moss recaptured her mouth as his hands made quick work of her khaki shorts. God love drawstring shorts, she thought as they swiftly fell around her combat-booted feet. She was awed when he somehow managed to toe off first one of her boots then the other while his mouth and hands never left their explorative paths along her body.
She went with his every urge and found herself lying back across the bed as he knelt before her again. His eyes sparkled as he took in the sight of her sheer black thong, and she thanked the karma gods she’d chosen the pretty panties over the comfy, ugly ones she’d thought about donning for her trek in the swamp. He fingered underneath the band, almost as if he’d never seen one before. No way a dude this damn hot had never been with a woman wearing a thong.
Grasping the little bows adorning both sides of the sheer fabric covering her mound, he gently tugged until the delicate little things came unbound. The last obstacle shielding him from front-row seating at her bare body quickly flittered away. Now nothing stood between them except for the funky pink polka-dot socks she’d tossed on that morning.
They were skin-to-skin, male to female, and she savored his musky scent.
He placed a hand on each of her knees and gently coaxed them open, never losing eye contact with her as he teasingly lowered his head.
She watched, breath held as his eyes hungrily drank in the bare sight of her. His pupils dilated and his own breath grew ragged. Never before had a lover brought her to this level of being aroused this fast on simple foreplay alone.
Something in him screamed wild, untamed, and dangerous and she reveled in it.
Chapter Four
A gasp escaped past her lips from the shock of his mouth and tongue working with masterful precision. She sighed when his tongue alternated between long languid laps and fleeting swirls over her little bundle of nerves, lost brain cells when small, gentle nips from blunt teeth added to the symphony he orchestrated. He played her like a finely tuned instrument, as if he knew her inside and out and always had. She had the strangest sense they’d always known each other. Like they’d just found one another again. What else could explain the way she responded to him? The lack of fear, the overwhelming desires?
Stop, don’t think. Don’t even try to analyze this, she told herself. Live for now, live for the moment, live to please him, and accept the pleasure he’s giving.
Beth moaned when rough, calloused hands blazed trails across her body, stopping only when they reached her chest. Rough palms kneaded her breasts. He lapped at her creamy center, bringing her to the edge of climax. But when one hand left her aching mound and fingers opened her lower lips while coating them with her juices, lubricating them, before slipping into her … she skyrocketed. When a second finger entered, she came unhinged. The climax hit with a fever she’d never before experienced. Her world erupted around her, sounds and lights taking on new hues as her body trembled in sheer delight. No sooner than she’d begun to come back to earth than he poised above her, a hand to each side of her, caging her in for what she expected would be the ultimate in couplings.
• • •
Moss nipped her clit and delighted as she came unglued under his ministrations. Watched as she bucked and writhed over the old ratty bed — his bed — his own arousal spiking at the erotic sight. A light sheen of perspiration shimmered across her skin. In the dim, moon- and candlelit room, she looked like a masterpiece. An angel amid his dark, watery world. And for now, she belonged to him alone. No one was going to take this moment from him, and God help anyone who tried.
He kneed her legs open farther to accommodate the space he needed. She seemed so small compared to him as her long, graceful legs opened. He took a moment to relish in her giving spirit, leaning back to better appreciate her offering.
The moist, silken folds proved how ready she’d become. Their glistening added visual proof to what his other senses had already established. When his gaze moved back to her face, he caught the cute flush that crept into her cheeks.
Modest and beautiful, he thought, running his thumb through her damp lips before slipping up to her encircle her nub. A smile of satisfaction crossed his face when she arched and whimpered at the act. He reclaimed her mouth, stealing the mewl forthcoming, while continuing to run his thumb around and around the swollen little ball. She thrashed about, reaching for him in futile attempts to bring his body over hers. When she couldn’t force him to rise at the moment, her hands clenched the sheet and toes dug into the bed in, he assumed, frustration. He understood the desperation that now fueled her every move, as he felt it too.
• • •
The sounds of the creaking bed accompanied his weight atop her, and she savored the heavy, hard maleness pushing against her own softness. The broad head of him prodded her, toying with her entrance, and she angled and thrust forward, hoping to force him into her, like right damn now.
Everything went beyond any physical sense of want; she flat-out needed more of the primitive release he brought her. She knew her wriggling about only aroused him further. Each time she thought he’d grow no larger, an almost pulse-like sensation stroked her as he continued to lengthen, proving her wrong yet again. Moss was full of surprises. The realization that she was driving this man — no, not just a man, a Hercules-type man — physically crazed, brought her feminine side out, purring.
He stilled as if to verify her readiness, not wanting to rush and, though grateful, she was beyond ready. She grabbed his face, locked eyes with him, and wrapped a leg around his waist to pull him closer while rocking her pelvis into his. That little assurance seemed to send him over the edge, and he thrust.
The force of the initial entrance was powerful enough she was pushed up the bed. Not bad except for scooting her farther away from him, but he quickly rectified that problem by wrapping one arm about her waist, anchoring her to him, keeping her immobile as he began thrusting with obvious pent-up vigor.
She tensed a tad as her walls stretched to accommodate his large girth. The exquisite sensation caused her to gasp as it rode the border between pleasure and pain, with pleasure a rapid winner.
Instinctively she arched, her sensitive nipples brushing against him. The skin-to-skin contact added to her euphoric state. She continued rocking her hips, matching him thrust for penetrating thrust as she held tight to those rock-hard biceps of his.
The sweat they created helped to lube their bodies and create the perfect sliding sensation as they both succumbed to the most basic of all things nature had created. Reaching down, he grabbed her thighs in an attempt to spread her farther. He seemed fueled by her body’s visual reactions to him. That he’d freed her inner desires and had her demanding more. Little did he understand, now that she’d sampled what he offered, she’d take nothing less than everything.
“Your scent … so intoxicating … love.” He growled,
jaw stiff, face intent.
The words went straight to her heart, though she understood things were so intense now that confusion even muddled her mind.
With no warning other than his quick withdrawal, she found herself flipped face down on the mattress, hands clasped above her head, and a powerful arm slung around her waist. He drug her hips upwards so she ended up on her knees, ass up, with him draped across her backside. She moaned her approval of the change, which in this position gave him all control and would allow for deeper penetration.
And oh, hell, how he took advantage of it.
He accommodated her every unspoken desire as if reading her mind. Beth thought for sure there were times he went so deep, he touched her womb. Between his blessed size and the primal positioning, she lost count of how many orgasms he’d brought her.
As he pumped rapidly, his fingers dug into her hips, keeping her firmly anchored. “Please … ” she begged.
“Please what?” He sounded raspy, edgy, demanding.
“Don’t, can’t breathe, no — don’t — stop.” She couldn’t think straight as her body hit boundaries she hadn’t known it had. Everything was too much and not enough all at the same time. He had more stamina than the Energizer Bunny; she stifled the urge to thank him and tell him he was the best lover she’d ever had.
And they weren’t even done yet.
• • •
The fevered pitch of Beth’s moans sounded like a heartbeat in Moss’ soul as he slammed home repeatedly, thrusting a little harder each time, pounding into her as though he couldn’t get enough. He fought back the overwhelming urge to release, opting to savor each moment with her.
Her tight warmth sheathing him made him all the harder. Never had any woman unleashed his beast as she did. It was as if she were the key to unlocking the secrets surrounding the arrival of his current cursed state of being. She was unique in so many ways, and his beast recognized her and raged to mark her as his. Strong and self-reliant, yet he sensed a wisdom far beyond her youthful demeanor.
Swamp Magic (Crimson Romance) Page 2