And it wasn’t just his words. His hands shaped her flesh worshipfully, leaving a trail of flame in their wake. Desire flickered across her whole body as if he had ignited a brush fire that would consume them both. This was nothing like the pallid yearning her sixteen-year-old self had felt for Cody in his quarterback uniform. Of course, Cody’s brutality and mockery had eventually extinguished her libido. For years she had felt merely like an object her husband used for his gratification and her humiliation.
Pierce had turned away from her to efficiently strip away his clothes. He was even more gorgeous with them off. He was not particularly hairy. Just a dusting on his pecs and a tidy arrow that pointed to his package. Which was a revelation. It was huge — in comparison to Cody’s, which sadly was all she had for comparison.
And so erect that it pointed to the ceiling. Even in the twilight of her darkened bedroom, she could see that the mushroom cap was broad and reddish-purple. Semen oozed from it. He opened a packet and unrolled a condom over it, gripping the shaft with a broad palm and adjusting the rim of the rubber against his black thicket.
Pierce’s eyes went from his cock to her and he smiled like a wolf about to eat a lamb. “Just making sure my boys are on lock-down,” he said. “I’m pretty sure that if they get inside you, there will be a little Pierce or Diana in nine months.”
She swallowed hard. Should she tell him? Not tonight. Tonight was going to be for her. Tonight she was going to feel normal. Womanly. Desirable. There was no reason to confess her barrenness tonight. It wasn’t as if this big flyboy wanted to marry her. She was entitled to her secrets.
Pierce’s legs were thick and strong, even though he was so tall he gave the impression of leanness. His feet were narrow and the toes long. Were feet sexy? She had never thought so before. His abs were clearly defined and so were his obliques. The heavy vee of muscles framed his six pack and made her mouth water. She wanted to lick him all over like an ice cream cone.
He stalked over to her, his cock swinging up and down. In the half-light, his face was carved from granite. Rigid with desire. He picked her up by the waist as if she weighed no more than Ricky. “Put your legs around my waist,” he begged.
She did. Her open pussy rubbed the thick cylinder of his cock. He let her pussy juice lubricate him as he moved her up and down as if she were weightless. “Hmm.” He buried his face between her breasts and breathed in.
Her whole body felt damp. His chin and cheeks were slightly scratchy against her skin. He sighed with pleasure and lightly rubbed his cheek against the softness of her cleavage. Her breasts were not usually a portal to delight. But his tenderness made those flames that were already licking through her leap higher. She grabbed his shoulders and heard her own keening with surprise.
“Tighten your legs,” he whispered gruffly.
Blindly she obeyed. Her body dipped backward as he flung her comforter aside and turned to sit on the end of the bed. Her legs caught hold on the mattress. “Kiss me,” he begged.
So she did. This was a different kiss from the slow exploration on the couch. He captured her tongue and sucked hard on it, while one hand cupped her bottom and sought the crack. He used two fingers to imitate the rhythm of his sucking. She squirmed closer trying to get her clit in better contact with his cock. Her whole body felt sensitized to Pierce’s love play. Lighting streaked deep into her vagina and back into her buttocks.
He pulled his mouth away from hers. “Are you ready?” he asked.
“For what?”
He laughed. “For me to be inside you.”
“Already?”
“I guess that’s a no.” His voice was grim. He moved her back and his fingers found and stroked her bush. He petted the swollen mound and pressed into the lips. She was wet. Wetter than she could ever remember being. He taunted the outer labia, running his fingertips along the edges and making slow forays to the inner lips. Her vagina was pulsing faster now. His thumb parted the inner lips at last and massaged them with pussy juice.
“You smell so fucking fragrant,” he groaned against her neck.
Diana was conscious that her pussy and her pits now smelled so strong that the muskiness felt like a physical presence. Pierce’s words were reassuring. She relaxed and moved her arms to his bulging biceps as he moved his thumb to the shaft of her clit. She stiffened. Cody had always said her clit was too big. But Pierce didn’t comment, unless chanting her name like a sacred song was a comment.
His thumb moved around the base of her clit in one direction. She leaned into it. He returned in the other direction. Everything inside her was wound tight. She felt expectant. On the verge of some magnificent discovery. “Come for me, darling,” he growled against her throat. His thumb flicked her clit. His forefinger found her G-spot and summoned it with a curling stroke. The tightness inside her grew painful and exploded.
When she floated back down he was grinning but stiff faced. “Now?” he groaned.
“Now,” she whispered.
He spread her labia with his fingers and lowered her onto his rock hard shaft. “Ride me, baby,” he implored.
Diana had never done it like this. She rose up and sank back down. His cock felt almost too big for her still throbbing entrance.
“Faster,” he begged.
She sank back down. He began to whistle into her hair. Suddenly she knew the correct cadence to please this man. She pressed into the mattress and rose and fell as his head flung back. He was so aroused, it didn’t take long before he stiffened and came. This time her own climax felt more like the usual tame sneeze she got with her vibrator, but her clit and vulva were so overstimulated that was all she wanted.
He let her rock on his lap in satiated contentment for a few minutes. “I have to take care of the condom,” he said regretfully. He set her aside and disappeared into the bathroom. Diana felt her breasts. They felt heavy and engorged. Her whole sex quivered when she felt herself. Her nightgown was under her pillow. She pulled it on hastily as the lights in the rest of the apartment winked out.
Pierce came back whistling a different tune. This one made her feel happy. He put something on the bedside table and got in beside her. His arms pulled her against his body. “What is this?” he asked taking a handful of her sleep tee in a big fist.
“My nightie.”
He sighed. “I will keep you warm,” he vowed.
“I always sleep in a nightgown.”
He sighed and kissed her ear. “Good night,” he said.
* * *
He was no kid, but sleeping with your mate after great sex had to be the best feeling in the world. He had never felt anything like the connection between him and Diana. When she had come, he had felt her pleasure in his cock, even though he was outside her convulsing body. For sure she was his fated bride.
He did not like the baggy folds of jersey between his skin and Diana’s. But there was no point in saying so. She was a grown woman, and the uneasiness she felt with her lavish and womanly body was not going to vanish because he paid her a few compliments. Getting her to sleep raw could be a project. He drifted off to sleep imagining the sexy satin nightgown he was going to use to wean her from her ugly sleep T-shirt.
He woke up with his morning erection pressed into her backside like it belonged there. Her Tee was up around her armpits so there was nothing between his favorite organ and her supple skin. She was deeply asleep. Dawn was turning her curtains rosy. He felt renewed. The gloom that had enveloped him every dawn since the crash was absent. His mate was lying in his arms and the delicious smell of their lovemaking hovered in the room reminding him what his cock was for.
* * *
“How’s it going, little brother?” the deep voice inquired.
“That you, Linc?” Pierce asked.
“Yup. I hear you’re an associate now.”
“This line is not fully encrypted,” Pierce reminded his brother.
“No names,” agreed Lincoln cordially.
“I’ve nothing bette
r to do,” Pierce said. “Actually, that isn’t true. I’ve found my mate.”
“No kidding? Congrats. Are you bringing her for Thanksgiving?”
“I don’t think so. Diana doesn’t know she’s my destiny — yet. I may have to bail on Mom if Diana wants to stay in Arizona for the holidays.”
“You do what you have to do, Pierce. Nothing is more important than wooing your fated mate. You told her you’re a shifter yet?”
“Hasn’t come up. I figured I would get her to fall in love with me first,” Pierce explained.
“Don’t leave it too long,” Lincoln advised. “And make sure you tell her right off how a phoenix bond works.”
“How do you mean?”
“You remember how I was going to bring Beverly to meet the family last Thanksgiving and then we broke up?” Linc asked.
Pierce chuckled. “I do. You came alone and I never saw anything more pitiful in my life. Stayed only about twenty minutes before you were headed back to Michigan.”
“I won’t seem so funny, if it happens to you, bro. Bev and I were —” Linc paused. “Playing in my condo, when one of my employees waltzed in. Wretched woman acted like I had given her a key because we were lovers. Bev was mortified. To make matters worse, I actually had dated Amanda for about ten seconds before she came to work for D’Angelo Security. Bev bought the bitch’s entire lie. I spent six weeks serenading her before she would take me back.”
“Jesus. Didn’t Bev get that you could never be unfaithful to your fated mate?” Pierce asked in horror.
“I hadn’t explained that to her. She had some sort of history with Amanda. Some damned fool high school drama. Bev tossed me out on my ear. Wouldn’t take my calls, or texts, or anything. Worst six weeks of my life. You make sure you tell your Diana how true-hearted phoenixes are. Make sure she realizes that our bond lasts a lifetime.” Linc paused. “How’s the physical therapy going?”
“I’ve regained full strength in the left arm. Break is barely visible in the x-rays. But my reflexes are shot. The experts don’t see full recovery as likely.” Pierce kept his voice as level as he could. No point whining to Lincoln who had had much the same end to his career.
“Hmm. There is life after Special Forces,” Linc said. “Life after the Air Force. You been flying regularly?”
“Only in lesser,” Pierce admitted.
“Go big, or go home, flyboy.”
Pierce grunted.
“Listen, Pierce, you tell Mom ASAP about Diana. Mom will be disappointed about Thanksgiving, but getting you married off will make up for it.”
“Sure. So why did you really call?” Pierce asked.
“Beverly is pregnant,” Lincoln said with satisfaction.
“Excellent. When is she due?”
“April 16,” Lincoln said.
“Congratulations. Have you told Harrison?” Pierce asked.
“Not yet. I didn’t want to rub his nose in my happiness,” Lincoln explained.
“Harrison is bigger than that,” Pierce said.
“No, he’s not. He’s not over Stephanie or Harry Jr., or Wilson, or Kenny. And he never will be.” Like Pierce, Lincoln pronounced Kenny ‘Kinny’.
“I guess not. It isn’t the kind of thing anyone gets over,” Pierce acknowledged glumly. “I miss those boys like an ache or a lost limb. Must be worse for Harrison, but he isn’t going to begrudge you a child.”
“I know. But we’ll wait and tell him at Thanksgiving.”
“Give my love to Bev. Tell her I’m looking forward to being an uncle again.” Pierce signed off.
He had to make a plan to tell Diana about his phoenix. No way he wanted any misunderstandings to come between him and his luscious lady. Now that he had had a taste of her sweetness, he felt twenty times more proprietorial about Diana than he had before.
He wanted her to acknowledge their connection. No, scratch that, he wanted her to marry him. Like yesterday. But he needed to act civilized, no matter how primitive he felt inside. Besides she deserved to be courted right.
CHAPTER TWELVE
So Jones’ faithless wife was fucking screwing a fucking invalid. Military Issue was on fucking medical leave. He sure had a fancy ride for a guy drawing military pay. And he lived in a big fucking house, on a whole fucking whack of expensive fucking land. It figured the bitch would be chasing money. Military issue was a fucking loser but a rich fucking loser. No doubt Fatso was hoping Major Fucking Air Force Fucking Cross would marry her.
Not if Military Dickbag had to stick his dick in her ice cold cunt. Maybe, she was holding out on the bastard. It didn’t matter. That tub of stinking lard was going to learn not to cheat on her man. Jones should’ve taught his bitch that lesson. But this was why business was so good. And so enjoyable.
The parking lot was virtually empty when Arnold Hermann came through the weeds. The old truck was still in its spot. There was a blue hatchback parked dead center. He didn’t recognize it. It wasn’t the bitch’s. It wasn’t fucking D’Angelo’s. There wasn’t a soul around to see when he went up the stairs carrying his work box and holding a clipboard. He took his time glancing from left to right as though he were seeking a particular apartment. No doors opened. No nosy bitches looked out. That was better.
He didn’t see any cameras even now that it was daylight. Of course management wasn’t fucking wasting electricity lighting the corridor during the day. He stopped at the bitch’s door and made a play of checking his clipboard. It took only seconds to pick her locks. And then he was inside.
Fatso had shiny, brand new barrel bolts top and bottom of her door. Undoubtedly, she thought throwing them would keep her safe at night. As if. Hermann looked forward to showing the slut just how little use her precious bolts were. When a snake wanted to play games with a bitch, nothing could keep him out. The surprise and terror when he appeared was half the fun of doing the whores.
The Chunky Bunny kept her pokey one-bedroom apartment just so. Made it easier for him to find what he needed. He slipped on the latex gloves he had brought and took his time looking around. He wandered through the rooms making a few changes here and there. Just enough to make Fatso wonder if someone had been in her place. Or if she was losing her stupid mind. But not significant enough for the police to do more than write her off as another hysterical broad — if she even called them.
The fat whore had invested in a queen-sized bed so she could fucking cheat on Jones in fucking comfort. The fucking floral comforter made him want to puke. He flipped up a corner so the sheets showed. Just enough so when Fatso came home she would wonder if she really had had an intruder.
Her closet was full of clothes. The bitch had a sash on her bathrobe and another on a dress. Perfect. He reversed a pair of sneakers before he closed her closet door, and then reconsidered. An anal retentive bitch like this would notice a six-inch crack better than a wide open door.
Lots of pillowcases. Excellent. Her bathroom vent would make an ideal emergency escape hatch. Her medicine cabinet didn’t have much in it. She wasn’t on the pill. Or at least if she was, she didn’t keep them in the bathroom. What did Chunky Bunny need fucking baby powder for? He turned the top and let it fall into the sink.
He opened the curtains and blinds. Removed the stick from the slider track. Her laptop was on the dining room table closed and locked. She had fucking password protected it. He tried a few combinations, but he couldn’t guess what the fucking tramp was using. He wanted to break something.
The kitchen was clean, whatever Chunky Bunny had eaten for breakfast was washed up and drying in the dish rack. She had left her knives where he could see them. He selected a slender boning knife and stuck it in the pocket of his windbreaker. He would sharpen it himself.
He opened the fridge. A pork chop was thawing on a plate. He placed it on the counter. It was still early enough that by the time she got home it would be inedible. And she could spend the evening wondering if she had really left it out, or if someone had been in her place.
He peered through the peephole before he left. Nobody. He hadn’t expected there to be. The bitch’s neighbors were all at work as usual. In his blue work shirt and pants with his company name embroidered on his chest, he was just another working stiff repairing crap. He let himself out and took the time to lock both deadbolts behind him. He had a moment of concern when a white-haired hag opened her door as he was walking away.
She greeted him in guttural accents and lifted the grocery sack she was carrying. Fucking Indian. Did she fucking expect him to carry her garbage for her? He nodded, keeping his eyes well covered by his cap. If he had time when he was done disciplining the bitch, he could have a go at Grandma Nosy.
It was going to be sweet thinking about Chunky Bunny coming home and wondering if she was losing her stupid fucking mind. Probably even fucking Major Dirt Bag would write her off as an attention seeking neurotic. Military Issue had his own fucking issues. How much attention was he going to pay to the fucking whining of a fat bitch?
He fucking loved his job. He only wished he could watch, because thinking about Fatso’s fear made him hard.
* * *
Pierce called just as Diana left work. “May I invite myself to dinner?” he asked. “Or take you out?”
Her thriftiness prevailed. But she was never again going to support a man. It was okay to help Pierce save money. But she was damned if she would pay for his food. “Why don’t you buy some groceries?” she suggested lightly thinking one pork chop wouldn’t stretch far. “We can cook again.”
“I’d like that. How was work?”
“Exhausting. I’ll tell you later. I’m getting in the car to drive home right this minute.”
“Okay. Drive safe. I’ll be there before six.” Pierce hung up.
Diana smiled. Pierce sounded eager to see her, but he was still abrupt on the phone — as though it were a tool. Not to worry. She did not talk and drive — not even hands free. She had seen too many accidents caused by distracted drivers. If you were talking to a passenger, they automatically shut up if something loomed ahead. On the phone, a caller kept prattling while the driver ran over a deer or worse.
Phoenix Ablaze (BBW / Phoenix Shifter Romance) (Alpha Phoenix Book 1) Page 8