Take Me Under

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Take Me Under Page 17

by Rhyannon Byrd


  “But I’m not done yet,” she complained, holding his molten gaze as she sucked him in again, using her hands to massage the inches she couldn’t fit in her mouth.

  His head fell back on his shoulders, his breath hissing past his lips as he cursed another dirty, graveled string of swear words.

  “I never understood how women could like this so much,” she whispered, running her lips along his broad shaft. Then she flicked her tongue over the slick, flushed head, taking the salty drops of moisture there into her mouth. “But I think I get it now.”

  “Reese.” There was a wealth of meaning in that harsh word.

  “Shh. This is supposed to be about me getting pleasure, right? And this is what I want. I want more of this right here. More of you.”

  “Hell,” he groaned, shoving the heels of his palms against his eyes as he let her pull him back into her mouth. But he only lasted another handful of seconds before pulling her off, saying, “Damn it, you can make me come in your mouth next time.”

  “What’s wrong with now?”

  “Because I said so,” he growled, picking her up under her arms and tossing her back on the bed. He pulled the condom on and came down over her quickly, pinning her beneath him and spreading her legs.

  “You’re so damn bossy!” she said with a laugh.

  He didn’t smile, his green eyes shadowed and dark. “I warned you about that.”

  “So you did,” she murmured, fighting back a smile. There was a hardness in him, a kind of raw, intense focus, but it didn’t scare her or turn her off. She loved it when he was playful and fun, but she loved this rough, aggressive side of him, too. Especially when he gripped the back of her neck, took her mouth in another ravaging kiss, and rammed that magnificent cock inside her. It took a few hard, pumping lunges before he was packed in deep and tight, her body clenching around him, already pulsing.

  “No. Don’t close your eyes,” he growled, muscles rippling beneath the hard stretch of his skin as he sat back on his heels and gripped her hips. Wrenching her lower body off the bed, he pulled her along his shaft, the erotic position revealing his penetration in shocking, explicit detail. It looked so brutal, but spellbinding. She could hear how wet she was, the air filled with the moist, slippery sounds of sex. Could see the slick juices she left gleaming on his dark shaft every time he pulled back, then thrust that huge beast back inside her.

  “Ben . . .”

  “I know. It feels so fucking good.” His voice was rough and low, jaw clenched as he forced out the guttural words. “All those snug little muscles inside you, rippling around me, squeezing me so fucking tight. It’s like you were made for me.”

  His husky words and thrusting body shot her into another mind-shattering climax, her throat still hoarse from her cries when she finally blinked his gorgeous face back into focus. It was clear from his breathtaking expression that he was nowhere near being done with her, and her heart gave an excited jolt.

  “Again,” he growled, swiveling his hips so that he stroked that sweet spot deep inside her. “I want to see it again.”

  “See it?” she panted.

  “The way you look when you come around my cock. I can’t get enough of it.”

  Holding her hips in a bruising grip, he powered into her in a hard, relentless rhythm that just kept getting faster. It was raw, bordering on violent, but she loved it. He was grinding himself over that cluster of nerves inside her again and again, his skill with her so perfect she didn’t even need his fingers on her clit to make her go over. She started screaming somewhere in the middle of it, when the spasms started deep inside, then shot out through every part of her body. He went wild then, her reactions fueling his aggression, and she wouldn’t have changed it for anything in the world. This was Ben losing control, lost in her, needing her, and her hunger matched his, feeling just as sharp and visceral. She wanted to claw at him, sink her nails into his tight ass and tell him to fuck her harder, but she couldn’t stop screaming long enough to do anything but shiver and come, her body milking that massive shaft until her orgasm had bled into one endless explosion of dark, devastating pleasure.

  Gasping for breath, she stared up at him through a shimmery wash of tears as he came. She loved the way he had his head thrown back, his strong throat working as he swallowed, rugged muscles bunched tight beneath his sweat-misted skin. Making love with him was the most amazing, mind-blowing thing she’d ever experienced, and as she closed her eyes, all she could think was Oh, God. How am I ever going to live without this when it’s over? Would she go through the rest of her life aching for it, feeling empty without it, like a broken cup that could never be full?

  “Jesus, Reese. Why are you crying? Did I hurt you?”

  She quickly opened her eyes to find him staring down at her with a tense expression, his dark eyes shadowed with fear. “No!” she whispered. “I’m fine.”

  Confusion creased his brow as he carefully pulled out of her, lowering her back to the bed. “Then why the tears?”

  Swiping at her wet cheeks with her fingertips, she said, “I don’t know. I think it felt so good I just got a little overwhelmed. I’m sorry for crying all over the place.”

  Ben stretched out on the bed beside her, bracing himself on an elbow. “No need to be sorry,” he offered quietly, catching one of her tears with his thumb as it slipped over her temple. “Tears don’t scare me.”

  She gave a watery giggle. “That’s probably a good thing, then.”

  Knowing he probably looked uncomfortable as hell, he said, “Reese, I—”

  She put her fingers over his lips, silencing him. “Stop worrying, Ben. No, you didn’t hurt me. And no, I’m not getting all clingy on you. I know the score. It’s just that . . . just that that was a pretty powerful . . . experience.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed, unable to get enough of the way she was looking at him. “It was for me, too.”

  A soft smile curled her mouth. “Thanks. That means a lot to me. But you really can relax, okay? I swear I’m not expecting you to give me anything more than this.”

  Son of a bitch. He should have been relieved that she was letting him off easy. That she was happy to enjoy the mind-blowing sex, without expecting more from him emotionally. It should have been the perfect goddamn situation. But as he stared into her beautiful eyes, those dark lashes glistening with tears, he wanted to tell her that it was bullshit. That a good time in the sack wasn’t all he had to give. That there was more, surprisingly much more. But the dangerous words were choked up inside him, unable to work their way out.

  Deciding that he really wasn’t giving her a choice tonight about letting him stay, Ben got rid of the condom, lifted the covers over them, and pulled her against his chest. She stayed tense for a few moments, no doubt carrying on some internal debate about whether she should try to kick him out or just give in and accept the fact that he wasn’t going anywhere. Slipping his hand down her spine, he was ready to keep smoothing his way down to his new favorite place in the world, when she suddenly gave a little satisfied sigh and snuggled closer. Her breath was soft against his chest, head resting on his biceps, tucked up under his chin, a slender, feminine arm wrapped around his waist, holding him tight. He’d never cuddled like this with a woman before. Had never known how good it could feel, or how right, when the woman was someone like Reese. Her soft, curvy body was nestled against his, her mouthwatering scent flowing through his head, a sense of ease settling over him that he hadn’t felt in . . . Christ, he didn’t think he’d ever felt anything like this.

  He should have been worried or freaking out, trying to keep his fucking head on straight, instead of getting mixed up in something that was getting dangerously . . . complicated.

  But at that moment, it felt so good Ben just didn’t give a damn.

  11

  BEN SQUINTED AGAINST THE EARLY MORNING SUNSHINE GLARING OFF the highway, wishing he hadn’t forgotten his sunglasses. It hadn’t been easy to drag his ass out of Reese’s bed when the five
a.m. call had come in on his cell. There’d been a nasty head-on collision on the interstate, out on the edge of town, and three people were dead. One of the trucks involved had been carrying a heavy load of gasoline, and both vehicles had gone up in flames too quickly for anyone to escape.

  Considering how the accident had taken place, he wondered if the driver who’d veered into the oncoming lanes had been drinking, or if there’d been another factor that made him lose control. Hopefully the coroner would be able to shed some light on the situation, giving the victims’ friends and loved ones a better sense of closure. It was a miserable situation, and for the first time that he could remember, Ben found himself wondering how he’d react if one of the victims had been someone he had a personal connection to. Hell, what if it had been Reese in one of those cars? He couldn’t imagine the rage that would consume him, or the kind of raw, gaping hole her death would leave inside him. He shuddered, not even wanting to follow that particular trail of thought. He was barely dealing with this stalker shit as it was. If he started thinking about something bad happening to her, he’d lose it. Big time.

  As he’d left her house that morning, he’d made her promise to lock the door behind him and keep the alarm set. But it didn’t make him feel any better. He wanted her by his side. Wanted her close enough that he could protect her if any fucker ever tried to harm her.

  When he finally made his way into the station, he dropped her phone off to Toby in IT, then ran into Ryder, who gave him a preliminary report on Drew Leighton. Sitting at his desk, Ben flipped through the pages, impressed with Ryder’s work. He didn’t know why the guy was working as a deputy, when he could have had a position with any private-sector security firm in the country, but figured it wasn’t his place to pry. If Ryder wanted to spend his life working for the sheriff’s department, he was damn glad to have him.

  The report on Leighton made for some interesting reading. On the surface, he looked like your all-American prep boy, his background not dissimilar to that of Miami drug lord Ryan Houghton. Growing up, they’d both had their share of mansions, private schools, and pricey beach houses in Martha’s Vineyard. Leighton came from some serious money, and was in good standing with Boston’s social elite. But when you looked a little deeper, you could start to see just what a controlling, arrogant prick he really was. When he was seventeen, his girlfriend’s parents had filed a report against him for harassing their daughter when she’d tried to end the relationship. According to Ryder, he’d had to dig deep for the information and call in some favors, but he’d managed to uncover the unsavory details. It seemed that Leighton had spent a lot of time and money trying to bury the various skeletons in his closet, and Ben remembered hearing that the hotshot lawyer was considering running for public office.

  There were more instances of suppressed complaints during his university years, and even a few from the first law firm where he’d worked. Ben couldn’t help but wonder what kind of husband the bastard had been, then cursed, realizing he really didn’t need to wonder at all. With a scowl on his face, he recalled the way Reese had wanted to rush out of bed that morning and get ready before having coffee with him. When he’d asked her what the hurry was, she’d tried to brush it off as nothing, but he’d pressed until she’d finally admitted that her ex would make fun of her in the mornings, delivering snide comments about her wild hair and lack of makeup. From the sound of things, the jackass had constantly complained about her looks and figure, urging her to go on diets and have cosmetic surgery, systematically doing everything he could to dismantle her self-esteem. It made Ben so angry he wanted to track the smarmy fucker down right then and there, and teach him a lesson about what happened to misogynist assholes who bullied women.

  He was still reading through the report when his phone buzzed, signaling an incoming text. Glancing at the screen, he laughed when he saw a message pop up that Reese had sent from her tablet.

  Laid down for nap, but bed cold w/out u. Thx for last night! Best sleep I’ve had in ages, even if we didn’t sleep much. ;)

  A husky laugh rumbled in Ben’s chest as he thought about how he’d awakened her during the night not once, but twice. Even then, he’d still wanted more. No matter how many times he had her, it just got better. Hotter. More intense. But it’d been fun, too.

  Except for when she’d cried.

  Despite what he’d said at the time, her tears had definitely freaked him out. Not because she’d been emotional, but because of how they’d affected his own damn emotions. He’d done his best to make the rest of the night as lighthearted as possible, and was proud of the results.

  After the second round of sex, they’d spent a long time just laughing and goofing around under the covers, which was new for him. Yeah, he enjoyed a good time as much as the next guy, but when it came to fucking he kept it hard and sweaty. He didn’t linger in bed and laugh with women. But Ben had enjoyed the hell out of those playful moments with Reese. And she’d seemed to enjoy him just as much. Not just his dick, but his jokes and the things he said. Just . . . him.

  He liked that she seemed interested in him for more than just the things he could do with his cock. Liked every damn thing about the woman, which just highlighted how dangerous this situation with her could become. If he wasn’t careful, he could get addicted to more than just the sex, and then he’d really be in deep shit. After such a crap marriage, he figured the last thing she was looking for was another serious relationship—and he sure as hell wasn’t capable of pulling one off. Which meant that as far as Ben could tell, he had two choices: Walk away and stop things now, before he got in any deeper. Or keep working on getting his fill of her, and hope to God that it eventually happened.

  The first choice probably made more sense, but he knew he was still banking on the second. He had to get there at some point, right? And walking away from her now . . . No, he just didn’t see that as something he could do. Not when there was still so much that he wanted from her. So much that he needed.

  He started to text her back, then decided that he’d rather just tell her what he wanted to say in person. He’d worked through lunch, so he could head out early without feeling guilty. Hell, he’d started so early because of the accident that morning that he could have kicked off an hour ago, but he’d been hoping the IT guys would finish up with her phone. Leaving a message with them to call as soon as they had any info, Ben grabbed his keys and headed home. He parked the truck in front of his place, but didn’t bother going inside, heading straight over to Reese’s.

  When she didn’t answer the door after he’d knocked a few times, he started to get worried. “Reese!” he shouted, trying to see through the frosted pane of glass in the top of the door, but the hallway was nothing more than a distorted blur.

  “Use your key!” came her shouted reply from somewhere inside the house.

  “Where the hell are you?” he called out, after letting himself in. She’d given him the alarm code that morning, which he used to disable the system, before prowling down the hallway.

  “I’m back here in the bedroom.”

  He found her curled up under a lightweight blanket in the middle of her bed, a pillow clutched to her chest as she lay on her side, long hair gleaming against the white sheets, lips curved in a soft, kinda shy smile.

  “Shit,” he grunted, pulling his hand down his face. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  “Sorry. I know I’m being lazy, but this just feels too good to move.” She had the windows open and the shutters cracked, letting in a cool breeze. There was a storm forming out over the Gulf, a light rain already falling. Her bed had that soft, cozy look that came in the late afternoon on a stormy day, the sheets rumpled, the woman in them too delectable not to touch . . . and devour.

  Hunger settled low in his body, making him hard and thick. “Well, now that I know you’re okay, I hope you weren’t planning on climbing out of that bed anytime soon.” He liked the way her dark eyes started to go all hazy with arousal, that potent sexual
energy that always burned him to a crisp already arcing between them. “Because I intend to keep you there for hours.”

  She arched one of her feminine brows. “Aren’t you meant to be at work?”

  He shook his head. “I needed to get out of there.” Setting his gun and holster on the top of her dresser, Ben pulled his shirt off and started unbuttoning his pants. “Couldn’t concentrate worth shit this afternoon, because all I kept thinking about was coming home and getting back inside your sweet little ass.”

  She snuffled a soft laugh under her breath, a mesmerizing light in those dark eyes as she rolled to her back, stretching out under the blanket. “Far as I recall, you still haven’t had my ass.”

  “We’ll get there. I’m just breaking you in slowly,” he replied in a husky drawl, enjoying their sexy banter. She might be shy, but she was a far cry from timid. “And in the meantime, I sure as hell can’t get enough of the rest of you.”

  That light in her eyes got brighter, the deep blue shining with humor. “I think you’re obsessed with certain female body parts, Sheriff Hudson.”

  He laughed as he kicked off his boots. “So long as they’re your female body parts, then I’d have to agree. God knows there aren’t any others who have ever gotten in the way of my work before.” He got rid of the rest of his clothes, then prowled to the foot of the bed. “Tell me, Reese. Have you put something in my water? Slipped me some kind of drug? Because I seem to be suffering a serious addiction to your tight cunt . . . and that smart-ass mouth . . . and those beautiful breasts.” He crawled onto the end of the bed, and his voice got rougher. “To be honest, there isn’t a single part of your gorgeous little body that I’m not dying to get my mouth on.”

  She snorted as she propped herself on her elbows, a soft blush on her freckled cheeks. “You’d think you’ve been sex deprived.”

  “Well, there’s sex and then there’s sex. I haven’t had anything like this in . . .”

 

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