Full Throttle

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Full Throttle Page 20

by Julie Ann Walker


  She’d never wanted anything this badly before. Never needed anything this badly before. And it hurt her almost as much as it excited her.

  “I’m going to take off that skirt now,” he told her, her nipple popping free of his lips. His mouth was so hot the humid air inside the hut was almost cool against her tender, distended peak.

  This is really happening. I’m really about to have all my fantasies come to life. I’m really about to make love to Carlos. She couldn’t believe it!

  And that niggle of doubt at the back of her head? That little voice that whispered she shouldn’t be doing this? That he’d despise her more for it in the end? Well, it was silenced when he pushed up to his knees, letting go of her wrists to grab the waistband of her skirt.

  Damn, but the man was pretty. Yes, pretty. There was just no other way to describe the way his dark skin glowed under the sheen of rain and sweat. The way his black eyes were like lasers inside the dimness of the hut. His heavy chest muscles and corded stomach muscles bunched and flexed as he slowly, ever so slowly pulled the wet skirt from her legs. Carelessly tossing it aside, he peeled the soft-soled shoes from her feet and dropped them to the mat. When her heels landed on the dried palm leaf, his position between her thighs kept her legs splayed and her sex… Oh, God!

  Embarrassment or shyness or…something along those lines had her face flushing hot. She lifted her arms, ready to cover herself, but he stopped her.

  “No, bonita,” he rasped, his deep voice heavy with desire as he caught her wrists in a firm grasp. Leaning over her, his warm chest brushing against her distended, aching nipples, he once against placed her hands behind her head. “You will keep them here for me, sí?” And, as if to lessen the demand in his tone, he placed a gentle kiss on her mouth. His day’s growth of beard stubble was wonderfully abrasive against her lips. “I want to look at you. I want to see you.”

  She swallowed, nodding jerkily as he pushed back to his knees, doing just as he said he would. Slowly, so excruciatingly slowly, his gaze traveled down the length of her body. Past the quick rise and fall of her breasts, past the hollowed quiver of her stomach, to the place where she burned and ached.

  His nostrils flared, and every inch of Abby’s skin flushed with a deep blush. She’d never had a man look at her. Not like this. Not so openly. She couldn’t stand it. She was too exposed, too vulnerable. And he was too…intense.

  Covering her face with her hands, she whimpered his name.

  “Don’t be shy, cariño.” He nudged her hands away. She bit her lip when she saw his eyes sparkling above her, his cheeks flushed pink with the heat of his desire. “Don’t you know how beautiful you are?”

  She shook her head. She’d wasn’t beautiful. Cute, perhaps. But never beautiful. And that place on her body, her most intimate place, was never something—

  “Oh, sweet heavens!” she cried when he reached down to spread her labia, pressing the rough pad of his thumb into the hard knot of nerves at the top of her sex.

  “You are gorgeous.” His eyes watched what his fingers were doing. “So pink. So plump and wet for me.” His voice was solemn, almost reverent, as if he were worshiping her. And when his middle finger stroked into her like rough velvet, abrading the tender nerve endings that had been screaming for sensation, the good Lord knew she felt like a goddess. Powerful and divine. Her body having become a glorious instrument of pure pleasure.

  “C-Carlos,” she panted when he stroked her. Just that one thick finger. In and out. In and out. Until she thought she’d go crazy.

  “Sí, mi vida,” he growled, a muscle ticking in his jaw, his chest rising and falling heavily, telling her that he was enjoying this as much as she. “Tell me how it feels.”

  “So good,” she rasped, lifting her hips so he could go deeper. “It feels so good.”

  “And this?” he asked as he slowly, gently forced another finger inside her, stretching her, filling her.

  “Uhnn,” she whimpered, her heart pounding, her lungs struggling to remember to breathe when every single synapse in her brain was focused on Carlos and the intense pleasure he inflicted on her body. “Yesss,” she managed to hiss after a second. “Please, Carlos.”

  “Please, Carlos, what?” he asked, placing the pad of thumb on her clit and slowly caressing it in a tight, circular motion.

  Abby was surprised she didn’t spontaneously combust. Her blood was running so hot. Every inch of her skin was on fire. And her sex, where he stimulated her so well, was blazing like a furnace. “Please, make me come. I need you to—”

  “Not yet,” he grumbled, stroking her one last time before pulling his fingers from her.

  She couldn’t help herself, she growled her frustration as she clenched around the void his fingers had left behind.

  “Shhh,” he crooned, scooting back and going down on his belly on the mat. When she lifted her head, she saw his face no more than a few inches from her sex. But he wasn’t returning her gaze. Oh, no. Once again, his attention was focused solely on the center of her, where she was, as he’d said, so pink and plump and wet. Only this time there was no embarrassment. Because the hot, yearning look in his eyes was impossible to miss. As was the hunger. And when he licked his lips like a man about to feast, her head dropped back to floor.

  Sweet Jesus! He was so much hotter than she’d ever imagined he would be. So much more demanding and…knowledgeable.

  Knowledgeable, oh, most certainly. Because when he pressed his lips to her, he didn’t hesitate or fumble like the few men she’d been with before. He didn’t lap or stab at her clit with the point of his tongue. Heavens no. He simply wrapped his lips around the distended bud, pressed the flat of his raspy tongue against her, and licked up and down. Slowly and gently at first. Then more forcefully.

  Son of biscuit. She was going to come. If he’d only add a finger inside her to what he was already doing with his mouth, that is. She was close. So wonderfully, frustratingly close. And she had to fight herself not to beg him for more, not to beg him to lick harder, lick faster. Because it seemed like every time she asked him for more, he punished her—the most decadent, erotic punishment—by slowing everything down. And that was, like, the sexiest catch-22 ever, wasn’t it? Because that arrogant way he took control made her that much hotter, that much wetter, that much achier.

  Holy Jeez! It was torture! Divine, sublime torture…

  “Carlos,” she couldn’t stop his name from slipping from between her lips. “God, yes. That feels good.”

  He hummed his approval against her, and the added stimulus had her bare toes curling. Then her breath caught in the back of her throat, her arms lifting of their own accord so she could bury her hands in the sleek, warm riot of his black hair, when he slid first one, then a second finger inside her. He pumped twice, stretching her intimate flesh until he seated his fingers to the last knuckles.

  She gasped. The pleasure was so intense she lost track of time and place. She had no idea where she was, no clue how long his sexual assault went on, how many minutes had passed since he’d begun her…education. All she knew was, if he kept that up, it was going to be over soon. And while one part of her lamented that, another part of her—a much stronger part—yearned for it. She needed release so badly. She hurt so—

  “Oh, God!” she cried. Because right at that moment he curled his fingers in a come-hither motion inside her, caressing some hidden patch of nerves she’d never known existed. And like the lightning that blazed through the paper-thin cracks of the hut, she exploded…

  * * *

  Steady had never tasted anything as sweet as Abby’s release. Salty and sexy, her flavor was one hundred percent pure, healthy woman. As she bucked and heaved, her nails digging into his scalp, the prick of pain just added to his pleasure, making his dick pulse heavily. And he’d never heard anything sexier than his name on her lips. She said it over and over again as her inner walls clamped and released his fingers so forcefully they ground his knuckles together.

&nbs
p; Continuing to stroke and lick, he drank her in. Her essence, her passion. He consumed her until his senses were overcome, his entire being overwhelmed. And as the last remnants of orgasm rolled through her, he was tempted to rip open his fly, grab the base of his dick, and thrust inside that fiery slick body of hers. Just stroke and rut and screw until his own climax burst from him.

  But…that would come later. Because no matter how much he might be tempted to assuage the ache in his balls, the painful stretch of his dick, he had other fantasies to fulfill. Fantasies of showing Abby more of the things he’d learned. Fantasies of taking her up that mountain of pleasure again and holding her there. Making her beg him to let her take the leap.

  When her inner muscles stopped spasming, he slowly, carefully slid his fingers from her. A growl rumbled through his chest when, at the last moment, her body clenched around the tips of his digits. As if her sex didn’t want him to go.

  “Jesús Cristo, Abby,” he breathed, placing a kiss to the tiny, baby-soft patch of trimmed blond hair at the top of her sex, then moving to plant one on the inside of her silky thigh. He breathed deep the musky aroma of sexy, sated woman as the rain continued to pound on the roof, keeping them cocooned inside the dry safety of the hut. “You’re even hotter than I imagined.”

  She didn’t answer him as he climbed up her body, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses along the way. One to her hip where her bone stretched her delicate skin tight. One to her cute oval belly button. One to her right breast that had her breath catching at the back of her throat. One to her left that had her moaning and fisting her hands tighter in his hair. And the last one he placed on her slack mouth.

  Grinning against her lips, he reveled in his power over her, his ability to give her the kind of pleasure that left her dazed and disoriented. Then, holding himself above her, he watched her eyes slowly open. Her pupils were so dilated he could barely make out the misty green of her irises. Then the lovely, adorable, sexy woman caught her lower lip between her teeth and grinned.

  “That was…” She cleared her throat, shaking her head as she continued to catch her breath. “It was just…wow.”

  Oh, Abby. Delightful, delectable Abby. “I’d say that about sums it up,” he chuckled before resealing their lips.

  Her tongue met his eagerly yet lazily. And since he’d become a man, since the moment he realized sex didn’t have to be hot and heavy and over in a few minutes, he’d come to like this part the best. When his lover was sated and languorous. When she was soft and fulfilled. Because the beautiful thing about a woman’s body was that it didn’t need time to recover like a man’s did. But the challenge was figuring out how to bring her back up, push her higher, past the pinnacle once again.

  The good Madre Maria knows I love a good challenge…

  And he figured with Abby he’d start with her nipples. He’d noticed how sensitive they were. How caressing them made her back bow and her neck arch. He hadn’t spent much time on them earlier because he could tell fondling them, licking them made her too hot too quickly. And he’d wanted to draw out her orgasmic torture that first time. But now, now he figured it was the perfect opportunity to give them the attention they deserved.

  Gently pulling his mouth from hers, he peppered her throat and chest with kisses before lazily catching her left nipple between his teeth. And as he’d expected, she gasped. Her back curving, a lovely little moan sounding in her throat.

  With infinite, hard-won patience he suckled her, licking and laving and biting first one hard, pebbled peak, and then the next. Soon she was writhing beneath him, her breaths coming fast and hot, and had he still been sixteen, he would have pumped a fist. He was right. Abby’s delicate breasts were the key to her libido.

  Thank Dios! Because he was on fire, so horny his patience was quickly fraying. And before he lost control completely, before he allowed himself the ultimate pleasure of sinking into her little body, there was one more thing he wanted from her. One more thing he needed from her to make all of his fantasies come true.

  Loving the sucking sound her nipple made as it popped free of his lips, he pushed to his knees, going to work on his belt and thigh holster. Carefully laying his weapon to the side, and not so carefully tossing his belt away, he stood to unlace his boots and shuck his cargo pants and boxers. Abby watched it all with soft, sparkling eyes. And when he towered above her, completely naked, he saw her swallow involuntarily.

  Chuckling, he reached down to pull her to her knees. Grabbing the base of his dick in one hand, he softly slid the other into the hair on the back of her head.

  “Suck me, Abby,” he told her. “I want to feel your lips and tongue on me.”

  Authority in the bedroom was a core part of him, and though he’d shown her plenty over the last little while, he wondered how she’d react to this salacious demand. Would it be too much? He held his breath and waited.

  Thank goodness, he didn’t have to wait long. She gave him an answer when she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, her chest rising rapidly, her eyes dropping hungrily to the rampant thrust of his cock.

  Relief and love and joy burst inside him. Because she liked this side of him. More than liked it if the hot blush on her cheeks, the way her thighs quivered, was anything to go by. In fact, he would go so far as to say she loved it. Which meant, as he’d always subconsciously suspected, she was perfect for him. The perfect mix of bold willingness to match his gentle brand of dominance.

  He watched, his testicles aching, as she leaned forward. Only instead of taking him into her mouth, she kissed the raised ridge of the scar on his flank. The muscles of his stomach rippled in response and he groaned, tightening his fist in her hair.

  “Do it, Abby,” he hissed, so close to the brink he could hardly stand it, hardly keep his knees from buckling beneath him.

  Her green eyes glittered up at him. Then she parted her pink lips and flicked out her tongue to taste him.

  “Dios,” he rasped, clenching his jaw so tight it was a wonder he didn’t shatter a molar. And when she closed her soft mouth over his swollen, aching head, he knew he’d just experienced rapture. He also knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

  * * *

  Carlos smelled like sex and man. His shaft delicious and salty as Abby’s lips stretched to accommodate his girth. She used her tongue to bathe the swollen head of him. And for what seemed like just a few seconds, he allowed her to give him pleasure. To look up and find his dark eyes blazing as he watched her suckle him. To see that big muscle in his jaw ticking frantically.

  Then he pulled himself from her mouth and she frowned. His chuckle was more of a rasp when he saw her pout. Shaking his head, his beautiful naked chest working like bellows, he said, “Not this time. Next time you can finish me that way. But this time I want to come with you.”

  Her blood was rivers of fire burning through her veins. And that ache Carlos so expertly satisfied earlier had returned with a vengeance. Although she would not have thought it possible, she was hungrier for him now, hurting more for him now, than she had been before they started. And she figured that was because now she knew exactly what sort of pleasure he could give her.

  “Lay back, Abby. Spread your legs for me,” he said, his voice barely above a growl. “I’m going to make love to you now.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, doing as he instructed, laying back on the mat and spreading her legs so he could kneel between them. The tan skin on his flanks looked so dark in contrast to the paleness of her thighs. “Yes, Carlos,” she said again when he leaned forward to brace his hands beside her shoulders.

  He drank his name from her lips with a kiss, his tongue plunging deep, stroking forcefully. Then he stilled, pulling back.

  “What?” she breathed, lifting her head to nip his jaw. With her ankles hooked behind his knees, she could slide her slick channel up and down the hot, raging length of him. And his plump head felt wonderful against her swollen clit. “What is it?” she managed, even though talking, thinking, w
as difficult when she was so close to orgasm.

  “I don’t have a condom,” he groaned, pressing his forehead to hers. “Please tell me you’re on the pill.”

  “No.” She pulled his mouth back to hers. “But the timing is okay. We should be fine.” And even though she knew it was a stupid risk to take despite the fact that she was pretty sure what she’d told him was true—she wasn’t in the fertile phase of her cycle—she couldn’t make herself care. And, yes, that was everyone’s favorite excuse for not using birth control, wasn’t it? And, yes, she was now the official poster child for irresponsibility. But right now she didn’t give a rat’s ass that she was a cliché or that the repercussions of her decision could be disastrous. Right now she just…wanted.

  “If you’re sure?” he said between hot, hungry kisses. She could feel his urgency, his hunger as if it were her own. He needed this as much as she did.

  “I’m sure,” she breathed against his lips. And this time, she was the one to make the demand. “Put your cock in me.”

  He hesitated a second more, seeming to war with himself. Then something inside him broke. With a curse, he reached down to grab the base of his erection, angling it toward her opening. And even though she was so wet and ready for him, the fact remained, he was big. And the head of him stretched her, straining the capacity of her flesh.

  She didn’t care. Planting her feet flat on the mat, she thrust her hips up at him, sending his shaft a few inches inside her. It was bliss! And at the same time, not nearly enough. She growled her frustration.

  “Slow. Go slow, Abby,” he told her gruffly before reclaiming her lips. His tongue delved and retreated inside her mouth with the same rhythm his hardness slid and stroked into her body. It took a few tries, a couple of forceful glides and retreats before he finally seated himself to the hilt.

 

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