by T. A. Grey
His shaft hung heavily between his legs, not erect, but...interested.
There wasn’t a time in his life he could remember not being interested in Hanna MacKellen. Those feelings of interest had endured for years. A startling realization.
“What do you want?” he found himself asking. His voice turned hoarse. As if he’d been speaking for a very long time.
Her lips parted as she looked at his manhood. For a brief moment, her tongue darted out to lick the edge of her teeth. A sight that had his cock thickening just enough to make her eyes widen further.
Her fingers once again raised as if to touch him. Her head turned this way and that to study his shaft as if he was a specimen to her. Yet he didn’t feel alarmed at all. He found her interest in this one part of him that he’d always hidden rather intoxicating.
“May I...” She indicated his manhood.
He arched a brow at her, wanting her to say it. “May you what, Hanna?”
She gulped, eyes looking up at him as her teeth tugged on her bottom lip. “May I...touch it?” Now she was just teasing him.
One word, all he could say. “Yes.”
Eyes lighting up, she leaned forward to study the ridges and columns, the veins and other scars that ran the ramparts of his cock. Warm fingers, soft as silk, curled around the base of his semi-soft shaft. Breath hissing, his head flew back for a moment as his lips parted. But he looked down at her, wanting to see this sight which had never been done before. He wanted to experience all these new sensations for the first time.
Hanna’s soft, charged breaths enticed him. That sound combined with her soft hands, had his member stiffening in her curious grasp.
“All these ridges,” she said, running her fingertips up and down them. “How fascinating.”
He choked on a laugh, then ended up just hissing as she continued to touch him. Harder and longer he grew. Powerful to stop it.
“It definitely looks like it hurt, but it’s also interesting.” She dared to peer up at him as if he might be angry at her for pointing out something positive from his wound.
More ministrations. Gliding gentle fingertips, sometimes a more firm grasp as she clutched him and lifted his cock upward so she could look underneath the other side.
“Those are still hefty.” As she noted, his sack was still intact. And firming rather rapidly. Tingling sensations squirming down the base of his spine like liquid heat.
“Hmm,” she said, as if taking mental notes like a scientist. “Why, Alex, I do believe you’re growing by the second.”
He shrugged arrogantly. “It happens.”
His posture changed, hips thrusting forward slightly, reaching for her.
“Indeed. You know, this isn’t awful at all,” she said matter-of-fact. “Odd ridges, but it’s not even the ugliest one I’ve ever seen.”
Out of all the things she could have said, he didn’t expect that. Alex tossed back his head and laughed richly, then he cupped her cheek for a moment, a simple caress.
“Leave it to you to make me laugh about something that’s plagued me my whole adult life.”
“Well it’s bad. I’ll give you that, but do you at least feel from it?” She trailed the pad of her index finger erotically over the soft head of him. He thickened, cock rising another notch, aiming at her mouth now. He was nearly fully erect. And salvia was drying faster in his mouth than he could swallow.
“I have full sensation,” he said after he could breathe.
“At least there’s that.” Her fingers enclosed him gently, squeezing him in random pulses as if learning his texture and stiffness. Tug, tug, she pulled. “Does that mean you can feel everything then?”
“What do you mean?” And why did his blood rush with excitement at her question?
“I guess I mean to say...can you truly feel every sensation when you’re being touched?”
He rubbed his aching forehead. “I’m not even sure I understand what you’re talking about.” He sure as hell felt her hand on him.
Hanna rubbed her chin thoughtful with her free hand. “Hmm... Maybe I need to simply...show you?” She shrugged as if to say no biggie.
His jaw slackened at her touch, raw sensation overtaking his body. He was close to giving her anything she wanted. “Show me?”
Her smile made him both worried and undeniably excited.
Yet nothing could have prepared him for what was about to come.
Chapter THIRTY-THREE
“Show you?” Hanna whispered. “Baby, I’ll do more than that. I’ll demonstrate.”
Words she’d never have imagined speaking to a man like Alex Thompson. A lykaen with a troubled past, with secrets that would make a pimp blush.
Hanna saw the struggle in Alex’s eyes. She could also see the temptation, the excitement induced by her touch. So she’d finally seen, once and for all, Alex’s problem. This is what had been holding him back all this time. The reason he hadn’t been able to go through with making love to her--the reason he kept himself away from her.
Well, this problem wasn’t significant. Not in the least. She was more than fine with Alex’s physical appearance. On a scale of one to ten, he was still a ten. She’d rank Tom as a five, though admittedly while she was married to him that number would have been far higher. Love was blind, they say.
How could he think she of all people would have a problem with his scarred cock?
After all, his cock was still whole in its entirety. In fact he was quite nicely sized, rather on the large and thick side, if she did say so herself. More contrary to her husband’s size who’d been thinner and shorter. However, the shaft, instead of having smooth, silky skin, was rougher, ribbed and cut and covered in scars. Quite hideous at first glance. She hadn’t been capable of stopping her initial shocked reaction. And for that, she would tell him she was sorry. Creatively.
Hell, she had a brother with a devastatingly scarred face that happened when William, the youngest of the MacKellen family, helped a psychopath to carve and filet Gavin’s face. All in a siege of anger. Hanna’s gut clenched at the bitter memories. Bad times for the MacKellen’s. William was now locked up in a prison by Justicars, the very same ones who were hunted them down.
Hanna wondered about her brother William often. Though, as time went on he fell further and further from her thoughts. William was the youngest of their bunch. He’d be twenty now. So much anger and frustration in the boy, unable to cope with many things and all of it led to horrific circumstances. He could never be allowed back in the pack. How could he? When he kidnapped, beat, and left for dead Alicia, Gavin’s mate. Gavin would never forgive him. And until that time, William would never be welcome home.
So Alex had a few scars. She had a few (inner) ones herself. Nobody was perfect, lord had she learned that tough lesson over the years. She’d learned a lot since divorcing Tom. She’d learned that she can’t be perfect. She couldn’t make everything succeed like she wanted to. And that lesson had come as a blow to her. Now she realized that it was more of a blow to her ego. She worked hard for a living, and to get to where she was in life to have the things she had--the only member of her family to ever graduate from a university. If she wasn’t perfect, why should Alex be? Shallow and frivolous were not words that described her.
She was ready to demonstrate. “Are you ready for me to show you?”
Husky, masculine laughter. “Not really.”
She appreciated his honestly.
“Brace yourself, sweetheart. This is gonna be a helluva ride.”
Alex’s breath caught, his muscles clenched to such a degree she thought he might pass out. “Couldn’t get any more braced, princess.”
Sending him a wicked smile, Hanna finally closed the distance and did what she’d been thinking about doing since Alex first showed dropped his pants. She wrapped her mouth around him.
* * * * *
Alex sweated.
Droplets slipped down his spine and were caught by his t-shirt. He wanted to take the d
amn thing off. It felt awkward having his pants around his ankles, his boots still on, yet his cock out like he was about to get serviced.
His stomach bunched and twisted with nerves. Who’d have thought him, nervous? Some of his past dalliances would have laughed at that. He wasn’t exactly a pansy in the bedroom, but he’d also never, ever let a woman look up-close at his cock. Let alone do what Hanna was doing. Leaning in, succulent lips parting.
No. God, no.
She wasn’t going to--- she couldn’t be---
Alex’s breath sucked in sharply at the first of erotic touch.
Softness, delicate as a butterfly’s wings lapped at him. The gentle sway of moist tongue licking the head of his cock. Gentle hands cupping his hips, unknowing they were helping him to keep steady on his feet. He was supposed to be a man--some dominant figure who commanded women in this position. Yet, here he stood, a full-grown man, and he’d never felt this feeling in his entire life. A woman’s mouth on his cock. He never even let them stroke it. Too risky. They’d feel the ridges and be repulsed.
He choked in the back of this throat. Sound stuck somewhere between a growl and a grunt. His hands flexed in thin air, like a cat kneading from happiness.
“Alex,” she whispered.
His heart raced. Too fast to be healthy or safe. It was damn-near thundering and she’d barely touched him, had only suckled at the tip. Panic suddenly gripped him and he pushed away from her.
He shook his head and backed away. The exact opposite of what his body wanted to do.
“I can’t. You can’t.” He repeated it once, then twice more.
Her mouth...licking at his deformed cock? His mind couldn’t even grasp the insanity of it, let alone to subjugate her to something so disgusting. He wasn’t normal.
“Alex?”
He kept shaking his head in denial. No, no, no. Not the princess. Not this beautiful woman who’d never done an awful thing to anyone in her whole life. She was good. She was wholesome. God dammit. And he was all fucked up and it was never gonna get fixed. It was never gonna get better. It simply couldn’t. He fucked certain kinds of women for a reason.
“Alex?”
He snatched his pants up swiftly and tucked his erection inside. At least that was fading quickly. Still, he knew he’d remember those slight licking sensations for years to come.
If he lived that long.
“God dammit will you turn around and look at me!” The shout heard ‘round Canada.
Alex’s ears flinched, but he turned. Rather quickly.
“What?” he asked, distracted.
Beautiful, wavy blonde hair illuminated in a halo of firelight behind her. Eyes spitting mad at him, lips snarling, hands cocked on her hips. A lithe, curvaceous figure, nipples distended and pointed through her shirt--not that he noticed. Much.
“Excuse me?” she growled.
His eyebrow rose. He’d never heard her speak quite like that. As if she were on the verge of committing violence.
“What?” he repeated, this time stupidly.
“You’re being over-dramatic, Alex.”
He looked around the room, pointedly behind him, because there must be another person in this room she was talking to. “Excuse me? I couldn’t have heard you right.”
She stomped towards him. Hard, cracking steps that barreled into the floor. She stopped before him and glared. Beautiful, sexy woman of my dreams.
No, hell no, get that shit out of your head you fool, he thought.
He did not need to be fantasying or thinking about Hanna any more than he already did. Which was too damn much.
“Oh, you heard me perfectly. You’re nothing but a drama queen. A good for nothing, cock-teasing jerk who doesn’t have the good sense to shut the hell up and let me have my way.”
“Let you have your way,” he forego the rest of the nonsense she spouted. “You’re beginning to sound more and more like a princess every day, sweetheart.”
She mocked applause. “How very clever of you, young Obi Wan. Now you get to name-call me a ‘princess’ and, for the first time ever, I happen to do something that even remotely fits your vague notion of me being some haughty ‘princess’. You know what? Fine. I am a fucking princess, Alex. And do you know what a princess gets?” She gave him a moment to speak but he said nothing, fearing where this was going.
Then she answered for him. “A princess gets what she wants.”
“So what?” he challenged.
His body was getting charged again, he found himself leaning closer to her as she strained and bounced on her feet. His cock twitched.
Her eyes traced down his body, then landed on his eyes. “Alex.” She paused.
“Yeah?” his voice suddenly gruff.
Something in her eyes...warned him and enticed him. He felt his blood thickening. Her half-mast expression was almost...erotic.
She took a step back. “I want you to do something for me.”
He very narrowly followed her. He had to physically keep his feet still to keep from going after her. “Do what?”
Sighing, she shook her head as if disappointed, and then she grabbed the hem of her long shirt and whipped it up and over her head.
Pert breasts filled his gaze. Honeyed skin, glowing in the firelight, so much of it his eyes saw everything and not-enough all at the same time. The slope of her breasts which pointed straight towards him from thickened, distended nipples meant for a man like him to play with.
Christ he was hard.
No bra. Just sweet, beautiful Hanna in all her glory. And boy was that a sight.
“What are you doing?”
“I want you to watch me,” she said.
“Watch you?” Dangerous territory there.
“Yes, you agreed to do something for me, right?” She cocked her hands on her hips. His gaze fluctuated from eyes to breasts, to neck to shoulder, to slim arms, all of it left him with a deep-seated ache in his loins and a fire in his belly.
Nothing quite stirred him ike the sight of a gorgeous woman yelling at him while half-naked. Nothing indeed.
“Yeah.”
Hell, had he agreed? Or did he just now give accidently permission? Shit. He asked himself if he even cared anymore and the answer came swiftly--hell no. Was it the sight of breasts? He didn’t know. And he didn’t care.
“Good. So continue to watch me.”
She pushed her pants down, pulled off her thick wool socks. His loins thickened and scolded him for ever leaving the heat of her sweet mouth. You fool. Imagine what you could have experienced!
Then he thought nothing at all. For her underwear slipped off and then Hanna MacKellen, his princess, his sweet, silent princess was bare for him. Completely.
She took on the role that many women had performed for years before her--the seducer.
The dominant one.
Lustful gaze watching him, she lowered herself onto her sleeping bag pallet on the floor. The thatch of light-color hair atop her sex made his mouth water. His eyes drank it up like a desert for water.
More. Please show me more.
He was dying on the inside; throat dry, lips chapped, and the only thing that could sustain him was more of her. More of this intoxicating woman.
Her legs opened giving him an exquisite view. His knees buckled and he somewhat carelessly sagged into one of the chairs at the table.
“Remember,” she said. “Watch me.”
As if he could look away.
“Yeah.”
She sent him a smile and he felt like he’d earned a touch of her approval.
Fire glowing behind her, Hanna took her time as if she had all the minutes in the world. She sat back on her elbows and left her knees bent crooked, pointed at the ceiling and simply let the light illuminated her sensuous body. As if she was putting on a show just for him. He felt honored. Captivated.
“I’ve always liked sex.” She spoke softly. Her hips wiggled and rolled as if to beckon or taunt him. A feminine movement made just for
him.
She turned on her side and gave him the curve and dips of her figure. He licked his lips, mouth parted and unable to close. He no longer worried about anything, too enthralled with her. No one had ever made him feel this kind of connection.
She moved onto her stomach and his gut punched. All the air escaped him and he had to physical touch his chest at the burning sensation radiating out from there. Christ almighty. She was...perfect.
He bit his lip hard, hands forming fists, as he imagined what it might be like to grasp those two perfect globes of her ass. He admired the symmetry of her spine; the lithe glide of her back that dipped low into two perfect cheeks that must be made for him.
She rose onto her knees, almost speaking as if they were having a normal conversation and she wasn’t erotically posing for him.
“I enjoy the kissing and the petting. The revving of the engines. The feel of your hands gliding along my skin.” She made a soft sound that made the hair stand up on his arms.
Yes! His body urged. Go to her.
But he remained glued to his seat.
She arched into the submissive downward pose with that incredible derriere aimed at him and she slowly looked at him over her shoulder.
“Hanna,” he said, voice unlike his own.
She smiled at him. Simply smiled. And he fell to his knees.
Side to side she gave him a gentle wiggle. He wasn’t only susceptible to it, he was downright eager for it. Cock thickened to full potential, hardened beyond rock, body poised to mate with a full-blooded woman; ready to please her.
Flopping over once again, she sat on her legs and cupped her breasts. Her perfect, luscious breasts and like a dog he crawled to her.
“What I’ve always really enjoyed though,” she continued, cupping her succulent breasts, “is using my mouth. Giving pleasure, as they say. So you must see why it angers me so that you tease me with something I want so badly, only to take it away from me.”
He was crawled like a dog to its master.