by Jillian Neal
Twelve
By the time Brock navigated their way back to his apartment, he knew Hope had to be stiff and sore from her first day on horseback. As the long road led them back to the beach, he couldn’t focus on anything but how good she felt in his arms and how incredible having her sweet little ass bumping against his groin had been all damn day. He needed her again. He’d never get enough.
She took the first few steps out of the truck gingerly and was making a concerted effort not to complain. Lifting her off of the ground, he carried her up the remaining stairs and through his front door.
“I’m okay. Just a little sore,” she confessed as she laid her head against his shoulder.
“Don’t worry. I have just the remedy for sore muscles, darlin’.”
“You do?”
“Yep, and it involves a nice hot shower, and my hands tending every single spot that aches, and then doing a few other things that will make you forget most everything but how good I feel deep inside of you.” Her body gave a delicate tremble in his arms. “That sound okay to you? Afterwards, I’ll make you the best sandwich you’ve ever had and put you to bed. I’ll hold you all night. I love the idea of waking up with you in my bed and my sheets smelling like you in the morning.”
Wow. Wow. Wow. Hope still wasn’t accustomed to Brock’s ability to slip into his overtly sexual mode with such ease. He settled her on her feet. They ached, but the desperate hunger burning between her legs hurt far more. Brock’s eyes were the color of dark whiskey again. They were greedy and studying her. It was as if he’d been thinking about this for some time, but that seemed unlikely. He’d kept up conversation on the way back to his apartment … sort of. Her bottom lip slipped through her teeth as she considered that perhaps he had been distracted because he was thinking about having her again all this time.
With her heart performing a frantic dance in her rib cage, she nodded adamantly. “That sounds perfect.” Her words took breathy flight from her lungs. They were almost unrecognizable.
In one stride, he stepped to her and cradled her in his arms again. “You riding in front of me all day, God, you drove me wild. I need you. I need to feel you nice and wet for me. Slick from my tongue and open from my fingers, hot and ready for me. I’ll be gentle if that’s what you want, darlin,’ but I need you again.”
“Now.” She grabbed his hand and all but dragged him into his master bathroom. She’d been in there before, but never for the purposes of showering or having sex with Brock. She took in her surroundings in a new light. The bathroom was masculine and somewhat mundane. Brock never cared enough to hang pictures on the wall. There was a Cornhuskers soap dish and toothbrush cup on the counter, a Christmas gift from his mother the year before, and a few towels, but not much else. The showerhead was over a rather large tub, given the size of his apartment. She spun and met his darkened gaze, keen with intent.
In one quick move, he cupped his left hand over her backside and used his right to guide her face to his. He took her lips with edacious hunger. His kisses were addictive, like some kind of delicious drug that seeped into her pores and electrified her body. Soft and melting, he swept his tongue through her mouth with a rumbling groan, and his fingers nimbly worked through the buttons of her shirt. His thumbs parted the garment and eased it down her arms as he broke the kiss. She whimpered for more. A seductive glint with a hint of teasing lit his eyes. “That’s not the only time you’re gonna whimper for more of me tonight.” He dispensed with her bra with ease. “Shoulders sore, sugar?”
Hope was certain she’d died and gone to heaven. Her eyes fluttered closed, and a soft sigh escaped her. She felt his lips brush over her right shoulder and his capable hands over the knotted muscles, rife with tension from their day. His strong steady touch was intoxicating.
“How about here, darlin’? Does it hurt here?” His fingertips traced her neck so tenderly the feeling was ethereal. She managed a slight nod.
“Let me make it feel better.” The heat of his lips grazed her collarbone. Her head fell back as he gently massaged her nape and spun his tongue in the hollow of her throat, summoning a raspy moan from her. “That’s it, isn’t it? You like that. I know.” Before she could agree with his assessment, his teeth slid gently along her neck, and she was certain the earth had stopped spinning underneath her feet. She felt like she was flying. “I’m learning you, sugar, but I’m just not sure I’ll ever get enough.” Hope’s entire body rung with elation. What did that mean? Was he really falling for her? Just then, he trailed his kisses down her chest and she quickly decided to figure that out later. Her brain was no longer capable of thought. All she wanted to do was feel.
“And those sweet little nips? So tight they ache, don’t they? They hurt for me.” Hope flinched as he spun her nipples between his index finger and thumb. Her entire body tensed as she felt the air entangle in her lungs unable to escape. She felt her nipples gave obedient pulses under his thumbs as she stared up at him in expectation. “That’s what I thought.” With that, he drew on her right breast, pulling her painfully puckered nipples into his mouth, bringing her relief. She groaned in elation.
Her fingers wound through his soft chestnut hair, and her breath finally returned to her in labored gasps. Desperation for him to take more, to suck harder, to be owned thoroughly quaked in every cell of her needy body. She arched her back, making the unspoken request for him to take what ever he wanted. His greedy moan quaked through her skin. Euphoria radiated throughout her and shot directly to her womb. Heat spilled from her pores.
Brock’s hands traveled from her waist to her ass. He kneaded her curves and rocked her hips against his rapidly hardening cock. Ravenous and insatiable, he laved her nipples with his tongue. Her breasts were the sweetest little peaches, but suddenly there was something else he needed to taste.
Like a man possessed, he unzipped her jeans and slid them down her legs. She was too encumbered. Irritation fed the craving desire surging through him. He was suddenly annoyed with every piece of clothing she owned. His mind offered him desperate fantasies of her naked and willing for him whenever he wanted, of her being his permanently, of this never having to end. “Sit back for me. I need you naked. I want to touch every beautiful inch of your body.” He situated her on the side of the tub and gently lifted her right foot. Easing her boots and socks off of her foot, he took a moment to work his thumbs against her arch, drawing a soft sigh of relief from her.
“I’m gonna bathe you, sugar. I’m gonna massage every single spot that aches. I’m gonna make everything feel better.” He continued applying pressure on the soles of her feet and then worked his hands up her calves. The muscles there were tight as well. As hard as he’d tried to keep her relaxed on Izzy, she’d been tense most of the trip. There was no way to make the first time out on horseback easier, but now he could soothe her thoroughly. She needed to be worshiped and loved from head to toe and back again, and he was only too happy to oblige.
Her body shuddered in need. As he worked the knotted muscles into submission, she groaned in elation. Every soft gasp or eager groan she made spoke directly to his groin. He ached. He burned for her.
When he’d stripped her of everything but her panties, he stepped back and dispensed with his clothing as well. Possession, greed, and something dangerously akin to lust-filled love coursed through his veins. “Take your panties off for me, darlin’. I want to watch you.”
He watched a tremble of nerves shudder through her. God, she was so beautiful, and smart, and sweet, and she wasn’t even aware of her own sexuality. She stood, and he lowered himself to his knees. She kept her eyes locked on his.
“Come on, sugar. Nice and slow for me.” The way she so eagerly followed his requests drove him wild with primal need. Everything she did drove him into a frenzy of carnal hunger, but she needed something more from him. She needed to feel the all-consuming power she held over him. He watched the plain cotton panties gently lower until he could see her hipbones and a peek of her sexy
ass. His cock gave a heated throb and bounced against his abs. The low flame burning in her emerald eyes lit explosively.
“You see what you do to me, darlin’? So fucking sexy.” He palmed himself up from his shaft and over the head of his cock. Back and forth, watching as her body reacted to each stroke. “Keep going.” Still on his knees before her, he gestured to the panties, keeping his hand wrapped around his own girth. A blistering heat fevered her body as she watched him. She liked that and obeyed. He knew she would.
Her panties slipped quickly over the curve of her ass, and he growled out his pleasure. Her hips swayed back and forth as she gained confidence, and he gripped the base of his cock to keep from exploding. “That’s it. Just like that. I want to see your pretty pussy and that sexy ass, sugar. You drive me crazy.”
The panties landed at her feet on the tile floor. She let her hands slip seductively back up her thighs.
“Touch yourself for me. Show me, darlin’.” He continued to tug on his own cock, but would never let himself come. Losing it all inside of her was all he’d wanted since the last time he’d taken her to bed. Being inside of her, skin on skin, feeling her silken folds tighten around him and nurse his cock was the closest to heaven he’d ever get. He’d tried to tell himself that the indescribable connection came from not using a condom, but those were lies just like the rest of his life. Sick to death of living out lies, he decided to be honest with himself. It was her. It had always been her. It would always be her. She was his own personal brand of perfection.
Her fingers gently explored her clit. She was timid with it, and stared at him in expectation that he would set her free.
Unable to stand the temptation, he grasped her thighs and edged them apart. His eyes widened as he stared at the delectable feast before him. He brushed two soft kisses over the tiny, adorable freckles that dotted her mound. They drove him mad with desire as well. Then he leaned in and used his tongue to separate the lips of her pussy. She shuddered from the sensation. “So fucking sweet.” His tongue spun up her slit and then made drawing sucks on her clitoris until she gave herself over and let her body bloom all for him. Keeping his tongue soft, he continued to tempt her clit with greedy, bathing licks. The scent of her arousal filled his nostrils. He drew deeper breaths. She tasted like heaven.
“Brock, please, no more. I can’t take it.” She did indeed whimper for more. Standing quickly, he turned on the shower, and spun back to draw her into his arms while the water heated. Beyond any ability to calm himself, he wrapped her right hand around his cock.
“You feel that, sweetie? It’s all for you. I need you to take it all for me over and over again. You want it hard, don’t you? I know you need it rough. You need to be owned, don’t you? I can tell. I always know what you need.”
“God. Yes!” Hope panted and reveled in the education of him. He showed her how to work him up and down, wrapped in the strength of his own fist. Her mind couldn’t reason how he could read her like a book. He knew things about her she had no chance of recognizing in herself. Being taken and owned, being his in entirety was all she wanted. A pearly bead of his essence leaked from his head. Keeping his shaft firmly in her hand, just like he’d shown her, she leaned without provocation or permission and hesitantly tasted the salty dew and surrounding skin that felt like hot lead. A moan of her own pleasure formed on her tongue as she allowed herself another taste.
A growl thundered from deep within him, so loud it almost frightened her. It echoed off of the tile walls. Hope stood back, not certain what exactly had elicited the animalistic response. She didn’t know if she’d done that quite right. In all of the books she’d read, there was sucking involved. All she knew was that she’d never been so turned on. Edgy and frantic for him to stake his claim. Her body felt heavy. She ached with fevered need.
Before she could beg him again, he stepped into the shower and guided her in beside him. The door rattled on its metal fixtures, and Brock’s gaze was hard and transfixed on her own. “You like that? You like the way I taste in your pretty little mouth?”
She would never lie to him, so she went on with her confession. “I want more. Please. I love the way you taste.”
“Lord almighty, you’re sexy as hell, you know that? I’m gonna give you more, honey. Don’t you worry.” With that, he spun her back to his chest and slicked his hands with a bar of soap. Hope melted against him as he began an in-depth massage of her shoulders and then down the curvature of her spine. “That’s it, sugar. Relax for me. Just relax.”
She tried to do as he requested, but she could feel his cock pressed against her back, and she needed to feel him move her body with his own. She needed to be filled to completion. The massage felt astounding, but it wasn’t what her body so ardently craved.
Letting the hunger drive her, she rocked back against him, letting her backside sway against the heat of his rock-hard cock. Another half-growled moan echoed around her.
“Oh, you need it, don’t you? I’m gonna give it to you, but I’m going to enjoy you first. Be patient for me.” His hands worked further down her back and then his fingertips dug into her backside, working the sore muscles there as well. The magic of it all. The heat and masculinity of him seemed to take over her entire body. She willingly succumbed.
Finally, mercifully, his fingers entered the slick heat between her legs. A low moan of approval sounded in her ear. “Still so tight, aren’t you, darlin’? Just relax.”
The snug fit of her always seemed to rob Brock of all composure. Her little body was perfect. Hell, everything about her was perfect. On another low growl, he slipped his fingers deeper. He watched her writhe between him and the wall of his shower. Moving his fingers in and out, opening her, priming her, he made himself insane with need as he drew out her desire to a tight-wire of primal tension. The sound of her slick little pussy lapping at his fingers drove him harder. She took with greed, and he gave with equal generosity. “You need to come don’t you, sugar?”
“Please, Brock, please.” Her head shook against his shoulder.
“God, I love the way you sound when you beg.” He increased his tempo once more, then reached with his left hand and gently directed the water over her fully distended clit. When his fingers strummed over it, her body bowed taut, and she came with a harsh, deep, cry of relent.
His own desperation clawed at his resolve. He tempted himself with a few strokes of his cock against her lips, now even wetter with her release. When her back arched, he slammed inside of her, pinning her body to the tile in front of her. “You take it all so good for me,” he grunted as he thrust fast and hard, frantic from his own hunger. He left no spot of her untouched. The water beat between them, keeping them slick and sliding against each other in exquisite friction.
“Yes,” hissed from her. Her fingernails dug at the tile, and he pounded harder, claiming every inch of her all for himself. When her head shook back and forth against him and her breath washed away with the water pouring down the drain, he returned his fingers to her clit. Her pussy cinched around him and began milking him in frantic rhythm. “Come for me, honey. I know you need to let it go again.” On his command, she shattered. His name sang loudly from her tongue. God, he loved that. He loved her. The realization shot through him as his release spilled from his cock, bathing her walls in his hot cum.
Unable to do more than gently turn her, he held her to him and let the water soothe them. It didn’t matter that he loved her. She wasn’t his, and she deserved better anyway.
When he regained his breath, he gently washed her of their combined releases. As the hot water started to wan, he shut it down and wrapped her up in a towel, drying her thoroughly.
She didn’t have anything to wear, so he pulled a well-worn Cornhuskers t-shirt over her head and grinned. “Damn, woman, I’m too tired to move, but looking at you in that makes my cock want to have another round.”
Her infectious giggle speared his heart. Dammit, why was life so fucking unfair? She was perfect
, but he couldn’t have her. She shouldn’t have to give up anything for anyone. Having a husband that couldn’t even read was a burden no one should have to bear.
“Tell you what, let’s just order pizza and camp out in bed. You wore me out. I don’t think I can cook.”
“You want to eat pizza in your bed?” She sounded like he’d just announced that he wanted to go on a shooting spree around town and then out for beers.
“There some kind of rule that says we can’t eat pizza in my bed?” His brow furrowed. He handed her his phone. That would be better anyway. He didn’t have the fortitude to navigate his call list to locate the Pizza Hut. “Order whatever you want. You know what I like.”
Shrugging, she made quick work of the order, set the phone on the bedside table, and then crawled in his bed. That was the prettiest sight he’d ever seen, the look on her face when she came and her naked and sprawled before him not withstanding.
He dressed and handed over the cash willingly for the pizza when it arrived. He carried the boxes back to the bed along with a few cans of Cheerwine from his fridge. She beamed at him as he crawled in beside her. “So we’re eating pizza and drinking cherry cola in your bed without plates?”
“Babe, you and your rules. Get your aunt out of your head. No one is going to put this on your permanent record or give you detention for eating in bed.” He smirked. “Well, except maybe me, but that would be for an entirely different purpose.”
Another fit of laughter overtook her. He shook his head and dug into the pizza. She was adorable, and he was starving. He downed three pieces in five minutes, wiped his hands and mouth on the napkins he’d retrieved at her request, and considered her concern over rules. “There are rules you should never ever break, obviously, but then there are the stupid ones that people made up to try to keep people in line when it’s none of their business. Some of them are fine in mixed company, I guess, but when it’s you and me, do whatever the hell you feel like doing. Be yourself, Hope. You’re amazing. Sometimes you get so hung up on offending your aunt or some person that doesn’t even exist that you forget to be you.”