by June Gray
I pushed him away and grabbed the lapels of my robe, holding the silk tight over my chest. “Don’t you dare—”
With an imploring look, he pressed a finger up to my lips to silence me then floated his hands down to my chest, taking gentle hold of me. I tried to resist but he shook his head and pulled at my wrists, the robe slipping down to reveal the thin white shirt that did absolutely nothing to hide my nipples.
His gaze dropped down to the expanse of skin above the scoop neck of the shirt, then slid lower still. His nostrils flared as he reached up and pressed a warm palm against my breast.
I gasped as bolts of lightning went straight to my core. Misunderstanding, he pulled away. His eyes found mine again, reflecting the shock I was feeling, and swallowed hard.
I didn’t know what was happening, why the rational part of my brain was suddenly on hiatus, but I found myself guiding his large hand back onto my chest. He didn’t waste time; he took hold of my breasts in his hands, massaging them, lifting and letting them drop, mesmerized by their shape and feel. Through the thin cotton, he flicked at my nipples as they hardened and pinched them between his fingers, ripping a moan from my throat.
He stopped, concern creasing his forehead.
“Do it again,” I managed to say.
He let out a huff and took hold of the shirt, ripping it clean down the center.
My heart thundered so hard in my chest I was sure he could see it. Never in my life had I been more terrified and aroused, as if the two emotions were feeding off each other. I had no clue what he would do next and the unknown made me reckless, excited.
I took hold of his wrists and brought his hands back up to my chest, showing him how I liked to be touched, then slid them down my stomach. His eyes grew wide when I pressed his palm to my heat, his fingers making contact with the wet fabric of my panties.
Wriggling his fingers, he moved closer and bent his head. With his nose against my neck, he inhaled my scent again and let out a raspy moan. His fingers ventured under the seam of my panties, searching for the source of heat.
“Yes, like that.” I whimpered helplessly when a long finger slid along my slick folds and found my entrance. I gripped his shoulder and sank onto his hand, aching to feel more.
He slid another finger inside and my knees about buckled. He quirked an eyebrow when I began to grind into the heel of his hand, my breath coming out in shallow gusts. It was shameless and went against everything I was, but I was beyond caring at that point. I squeezed around his fingers, searching for relief. He was a quick study, figuring out what brought me pleasure, quickly bringing me to the point of no return.
I dug my fingers into his shoulders and arched my back against the wall as the climax thundered through my body, lighting me up from the inside. I squeezed my eyes shut, my legs threatening to buckle, and rode out the shocks of pleasure coursing through my body.
When I recovered, I found him watching me with shock and curiosity, lips parted slightly, fingers still milking the last of my orgasm.
Completely lost in the moment, I slid down to my knees and began to undo his zipper, taking hold of the waistband of his pants and sliding it down his hips. His cock sprang free, thick and long, jutting up from a thatch of dark hair. The skin between his brows knotted as he wrapped his long fingers around his erection almost possessively.
With gentle movements, I leaned forward and touched my lips to the head of his shaft, my tongue flicking out to taste the salty moisture at the tip. He jerked back, his eyes wide with shock.
“You don’t want me to do that?” I asked.
His eyes flashed in recognition and, after a moment’s pause, he thrust his hip forward, guiding his cock to my mouth with a groan. When I wrapped my lips around him, his hips jerked involuntarily, sending his shaft deep into my eager mouth. Taken by surprise, he took hold of my head and did it again, pushing in hard and deep. Over and over he thrust, and I let him, enjoying his unbridled joy, intrigued by the strange notion that nobody had ever done this for him before.
At this point, I no longer knew if I was awake or dreaming, and I no longer cared. I had this stranger in my mouth, his balls slapping me on the chin, and for once I wasn’t thinking about my life back in Atlanta. I was completely lost in the moment, enjoying the act of giving pleasure.
All of a sudden he pulled away and dropped to his knees before me, taking my face in his hands before flattening his lips to mine. He kissed me without guile or pretense, groaning as he devoured me. He was greedy, taking from me like a man deprived of physical intimacy, and I gave freely, poured into him all that was left of me. It wasn’t much, but this stranger touched me as if I was the most captivating woman in the world.
He pulled away, breathing hard, his expression raw and clear. I tipped my head in assent and then he was turning me around, pushing me down until I was on all fours, my ass up in the air.
I jumped when he ripped my panties away. “This could get expensive,” I muttered.
He let out a soft chuckle, then his rough hands landed on me, mapping the curves of my back, waist, ass. A moment later, the head of his shaft nudged at my entrance.
Sensing his hesitation, I peered over my shoulder. Our gazes locked, and though he hadn’t said a word this entire exchange, I felt understanding passing between us, a contract of trust and desire.
His lips fell open when I backed into him and his cock slipped partly inside. Then his eyes flashed and he gripped my hips and plunged in.
“Oh.” The breath rushed out of me at the exquisite invasion. He was so thick and warm that my inner walls took a moment to adjust around him. When I clenched, he jumped, so I did it again, squeezing him harder until he emitted a noise of pleasure and pain.
Vaguely, the idea of a condom passed through my thoughts, but I was too far gone to care.
He started off with shallow thrusts and quickly found his instinctual rhythm, withdrawing almost all the way and just as quickly slamming back in. The momentum built, his thrusts becoming more savage so that I jolted forward with each drive. My insides lit up with every stroke, making me wetter, winding me tighter.
Then he wrapped my hair around his hand and pulled hard, making my back arch as he drove into me faster. He was losing control, his movements erratic, his breathing loud and desperate.
I was breaking so many of my own rules—me, who had never even entertained the idea of a one-night stand—yet the risky nature of it all drove me wilder, heightened every sensation by a million.
It was, without a doubt, the most erotic moment of my life.
“Yes, like that, yes, oh! Right there.” The words tumbled out of my mouth and then I was screaming, breaking apart at the seams. My insides quaked, my orgasm going on and on as he continued pounding into me. Then he unleashed a guttural cry and shoved inside one last time, his hold on my hips almost painful as he climaxed.
CHAPTER THREE
He bent down, wrapping his big body over me, pressing his sweat-slick chest to my back. I could feel his heart thudding, could smell the sex in the air around us. It was dizzying and surreal and, again, I wondered if this was all a dream.
Unexpectedly he pulled away and, a second later, he pulled me up and slung me over his shoulder, carrying me across the cabin as if I weighed nothing at all. With one bare foot he kicked open the bedroom door and set me down on the bed then, with a huff, he wrapped an arm around my back and heaved me higher up the mattress. I tried to sit up but he only took hold of my wrists and pushed me back down, holding my arms above my head.
I didn’t have time to think or say anything; he moved over me in the next instant, the moonlight illuminating the hungry glint in his eyes.
“Again?” I asked, glancing down at his hardening cock still glistening from my wetness.
He nipped at my neck and flashed me a grin full of promise. I wanted to brush the hair away from his face, to look into his eyes in search of anything familiar, a rational explanation why I felt compelled to say yes, why my hips
lifted up in invitation, why my body shuddered with delight when he once again slid home.
Home.
This man was a stranger to me, just as I was to him, yet somehow our bodies recognized each other. Was there something more at work here or were we just two horny strangers needing some relief?
I silenced my brain, focusing instead on the way my body reacted to his every touch, how my nerves sang as he drove into me with reckless abandon. His eyes never left my face and I held nothing back, allowing the pleasure to shape and color my features. I no longer cared if my O-face made me look like I was in agony, or if the sounds coming out of me were not at all ladylike. All of my insecurities fell away as he pulled my legs further apart and dug in deeper, grinding his hips so hard my head was hitting the headboard.
The orgasm came swiftly, taking me by surprise. I dug my nails into the firm flesh of his ass and threw my head back, keening as wave after wave of pleasure battered me into delirium.
My insides were still convulsing when his large body bowed over me and he growled through his own release. He never looked away, his face taut and fierce as he stared me down. When he was spent, he collapsed on top of me, his heart thudding against mine, his breathing ragged against my ear.
A few moments later he rolled off me and onto his side, keeping me in the circle of his arms. He stared at me, mystified, as if I was some math problem he couldn’t solve. He touched my cheeks and with one finger traced the outline of my jaw to my chin, then along my lips. I bit at the fleshy part of his hand and he pulled away with a playful grumble.
“What’s your name?” I asked. When he didn’t reply, I huffed. “Okay, then, are you the mysterious man of the forest? The one who breaks into people’s homes then disappears again?”
Again nothing.
I let out an exasperated breath. “Come on. You have to give me something, anything. We just had sex twice. I think that’s earned me some small measure of trust, right?”
I stilled when his soft lips parted and he uttered something that sounded like Beauty, his voice deep and thick and a little rough from disuse.
“What? Your name’s Beauty?” I asked, not entirely sure I hadn’t just imagined it.
He shook his head, pressing the pad of his thumb to my lower lip. He cleared his throat. “You’re… beautiful.”
I would have melted into the sheets if it were possible. To have this gorgeous man saying that to me in that voice with those eyes and those lips…
I kissed him; I had no other choice. He opened up immediately, his fingers sliding through my hair and cradling the back of my head to deepen the connection. A mewling moan came from somewhere down my throat, a needy, delirious sort of sound that I’d never made before. I’d always held back a little with my past lovers, always afraid to let go, but something about this man made me lose all sense of decency. It was as if he naturally drew out the primal side of me, his wild spirit calling my own.
He grinned and bit at my lip, drawing it away before releasing it. He did it again and just when I thought we were headed for round three, he rolled away and out of the bed.
“You’re leaving?” I asked, sitting up with the covers over my chest. My eyes molested his naked body, tracing over every muscle—one large one in particular—with appreciation. Rendered in light and shadows by the moon, he was the definition of raw beauty, unrefined by the varnish of big city life.
Without warning, he crawled back onto the bed and invaded my space, his face only a hair’s breadth away from mine as he coaxed me back down. I fought to catch my breath and get my footing, but the man was an unpredictable landscape I had no idea how to traverse.
With the hint of a smirk, he ripped the covers away from my chest and dipped his head, wrapping his lips around my breast, sucking it into his mouth, testing the edge of his teeth against my nipple. I squirmed, but he held me down while he took his time acquainting himself with my anatomy, moving to the other breast then licking the valley between. The whole time he pressed his nose to my skin, breathing me in. I wasn’t sure I smelled so fresh after all that we’d done, but he didn’t seem to mind, in fact, seemed to be aroused by it.
“Do you like my scent?” I asked, threading my fingers through his hair as he licked down my stomach. I let out a surprised laugh when his tongue dipped into my bellybutton.
He stopped and looked at me across the plane of my stomach. “Yes,” he rasped and flashed me a predatory smile. “You smell so good.”
“You can talk!” I blurted out. “Like, in real sentences.”
His lips twitched. “Yes.”
“Then tell me your name.”
He rose up on his haunches and set his hands on his hips, his big body looming over me. “Alaric.”
“Alaric,” I echoed, enjoying the way it slid down my tongue. “Are you the man in the legends?”
“Legends?”
“Someone from town told me about the legend of a wild man living in the forest.”
One eyebrow rose up in question.
“Some people believe you’re a ghost, or even crazier, a wolf shapeshifter.”
He let out a deep, scratchy laugh and held his arms out to the side. “Well, am I?”
I blinked up at him, unable to tear my eyes away. “I don’t know, honestly.” I sat up and touched his wide chest, traced the ridges of his stomach, and, finally, wrapped my hand around the hard shaft jutting up from between his legs. I stroked him once, squeezing at the head, pleased when his jaw muscles clenched. “I think you’re just a crazy hallucination or some sort of dream. And tomorrow I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone.”
“That part is true.” He took hold of my hands and brought them up to his lips, kissing the flesh of my palms. “You won’t see me again.”
“Why not?”
He didn’t say anything, only shook his head and backed away and off the bed.
I crawled after him. “Why? Who are you hiding from?” I followed him out to the main living area and watched helplessly as he slipped back into his pants. “So this is your M.O. then: you break into a rental cabin, have sex with whoever’s inside, and just disappear back into the woods?”
He whirled around to me, his expression dark and dangerous. “No,” he bit out. “I’ve never even…” He pressed his lips together and turned away.
“Never?” I whispered. I came closer and touched his back, feeling hard muscles rippling under his skin.
Keeping his back to me, he said, “I haven’t touched or even talked to another person in a long time.”
“How long?”
Finally he turned around, his face dark with anguish. “Fifteen years.”
The words rushed out on a breath: “I’m the first person you’ve touched in fifteen years?” It didn’t seem possible. How could someone live their life outside society, without any human contact, and not go crazy? Who do you talk to, laugh with?
Overcome with an unfamiliar emotion, I wrapped my arms around him, pressing my naked body against his chest.
He seemed to understand what I was doing and held me closer, flattening his palms on my back and sliding them down to cup my ass. I stood on my toes and grazed my lips against his. His hands slid up to touch my face as the kiss went on, all lips and tenderness and soft gasps, so different from the frenzy of our earlier kisses.
He lifted me in his arms and took me back to the bed, tucking me under the covers before tangling his fingers through my hair. But just when he looked like he’d decided to stay, he let me go with a huff and took a step back instead.
“So this is it?” I asked, surprised to feel the tears prickling at my eyes. Why the hell was I so emotional over a man I’d only just met? “You’re just going to disappear back into the forest and I’ll never see you again?”
He nodded, his expression inscrutable as he gazed down at me. Was that regret in his eyes, or pity?
“Goodbye,” he said before going to the sliding door and fading back into the shadows of legends and ghost stories.
CHAPTER FOUR
Waking up the next morning was luxurious, like rising from the depths of a warm ocean and floating to the dancing lights above. When I broke the surface, I opened my eyes and realized I was alone in the middle of nowhere.
But as I stretched my arms and legs, a smile spread on my face at the remembered image of the man with the wild hair and the incredible body. My core clenched at the thought of what he’d done to me last night, the way he’d lorded over me with aggression and need. He had lacked finesse and experience, but made up for it with intensity and raw passion.
For his first time, it definitely was not bad. It had been so good, in fact, I’d actually tried to convince myself that it had been a dream. I’m Chloe Randall, waspy only child of a Wall Street mogul. I wasn’t raised to have unprotected, mind-blowing sex with strangers.
But the soreness in my limbs and the pleasant ache between my legs said otherwise.
Still, I wanted him again, wanted to feel him covering my body with his own. Nearly overheating from arousal, I flipped over to my stomach and slipped my fingers between my legs, mimicking the way he’d hesitantly slid his fingers inside me before quickly learning how to make me come.
I screamed into the pillow as I climaxed to the image of him looming over me, calling me Beauty. But it wasn’t enough; I needed more. I needed him.
But he’d said I’d never see him again.
Well, Mr. Beautiful and Savage, I thought as I threw aside the covers and stomped over to the bathroom. Here’s the second thing Ethan disliked about me: That I’m stubborn.
And I will find you.
After a shower, I changed into a sweater and leggings and straightened around the cabin. When everything was in its rightful place, I called Anna and recounted last night’s events.
Anna, as expected, gave voice to my conscience. “You what?” she shrieked. “What the hell possessed you to have sex with a strange man who broke into your cabin? Were you high?”
“I don’t know, Anna!” I said, throwing my hands up. I sighed and sat down at the table. “He stood up and our eyes met and something in me just… shifted.”