Grappling for Position (Against the Cage Book 4)

by Melynda Price

  “I love you, too, Willow.” The emotion tearing through his chest made his confession a broken rasp. Bending down, he pressed a kiss to her lips and whispered, “I’m going to take good care of you, baby.”

  Regan dipped his head, capturing a strawberry peak with his mouth as his hand slipped between them. He sucked her deep as his finger slipped inside her. She tensed at the invasion, and he had to remind himself to slow down. She wasn’t used to the intimate touch of a man. After a few moments of letting her body adjust, she began to relax beneath him and exhaled a moan so needy it made Regan’s cock weep. Her fingers knotted into his hair, tugging him closer as he rolled her nipple between his tongue and teeth. Damn, she was tight.

  As he kissed his way down her stomach, her breaths grew shorter, faster in anticipation.

  “Regan, wait . . .”

  She cupped his jaw, and he closed his eyes, praying for the strength to stop. “Are you having second thoughts?” He could tell by the uncertainty in her eyes that she was.

  She shook her head. “I’m sure. But are you?”

  Was he sure that he wanted her? Was he sure that he thought he might die at this moment if he didn’t bury his face between her legs? Was he sure that he wanted this woman more than anything else in the world?

  “I’m sure.” He dipped his head to taste her and halt any more conversation, because as much as he loved talking to her, right now, not so much. She tightened her hold on his jaw. No matter, he began kissing the inside of her thigh, sucking the spot and leaving his mark.

  “Regan?” She pulled his head up, and he released her flesh with an impatient sigh. “What if Kyle finds out somehow? I just don’t want you to regret this.”

  She didn’t want him to regret this? And this was exactly why he loved Willow as much as he did. Here she was about to lose her innocence, and she was worried about him having regrets? Could this beautiful woman be any more selfless? He kissed the spot he’d been heading toward at the top of her sex and was rewarded with a shiver. The slight catch of her breath was nearly inaudible.

  Lifting his head, he met her eyes. “Willow, he’s going to find out because I’m going to tell him.”

  Her beautiful eyes grew impossibly round, panic flooding in. “Regan, you can’t do that. If you tell him . . . I can’t . . . We’re not doing this. He’ll kill you.”

  She began to scoot away, and he grabbed her hips, pulling her back down and holding her in place. “Willow—”

  “No, Regan. I don’t want him to know—at least not yet—not before we even have a chance to see where this is going. We need some time together first. Promise me. Promise me you won’t tell him until we both agree.”

  Lying to his best friend didn’t sit well with him. He hated deception and hated even more the idea of hiding his feelings for Willow, like they were something he should be ashamed of. He loved her, and the last thing he wanted was to sneak around. He wasn’t in high school for crissake. He was an adult, goddammit, and so was she. But if Willow needed more time, needed to get used to the idea of them before weathering the storm of her brother’s wrath, then couldn’t he at least give her that? Truthfully, he wasn’t looking forward to telling him. Maybe a little more time would give him a better perspective on how to handle the situation with Kyle.

  “All right, Willow. If you need some time, I’ll give it to you, as long as we’re clear that I am telling him—me not you. I don’t want you anywhere near him when he finds out.”

  She gave him a sweet smile and brought her hand up to caress his cheek with her thumb. “Kyle won’t hurt me, Regan.”

  No, he wouldn’t hurt her, but Regan couldn’t say the same for himself, and he didn’t want her witnessing it. The last thing he wanted to do was come between those two. As someone who didn’t have any family to speak of, he knew how precious that bond was.

  “I know he won’t.” Regan bent down and brushed his lips over her hip. “But as a man, it’s something I need to do, especially if I have any hope of him forgiving me someday.”

  “Okay,” she whispered, and he playfully nipped the inside of her thigh, letting her know that the time for talking was over. She flinched and laughed, the tension easing out of her sweet little body. Although she could have picked a better time to have this conversation, it needed to be said. And now that it was over, he couldn’t deny he felt better knowing where they each stood on the subject.

  He kissed a trail up her thigh, and when she began to squirm, growing restless beneath him, a wicked grin of masculine satisfaction tugged at his lips. He could sense the raw need clawing at her from the inside out. He knew that hunger, felt it whenever he was near her.

  Regan eased her legs apart to accommodate the wide breadth of his shoulders. She glanced down at him, eyes alight with lust and unfettered desire. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight in his life than this woman naked beneath him, staring at him. Fuck, he couldn’t wait to taste her again, and knowing that this time he would have all of her made this moment that much sweeter.

  “Regan.” She panted his name in a breathless plea.

  Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he pressed a kiss to her golden thatch. “Trust me.”

  Her eyes flared with excitement. She wanted to watch. How fucking hot was that? His sweet Willow wanted to watch him feast on her virgin flesh. Parting her folds with his thumbs, he opened her and slowly dragged his tongue up her center. Her breath caught sharply in her throat, and the ecstasy on her face nearly made him come. If he kept watching her . . . Fuck, if she kept watching him, he wasn’t going to last long enough to get inside her. And he needed to prepare her, needed to make sure she was ready for him.

  “Regan . . .” His name left her lips on a broken cry, her hips lifting off the bed when he sucked her clit. The sound of her voice was like audible foreplay that shot straight into his cock. He slid his hands beneath her ass and grabbed hold, anchoring her in place. It didn’t take long to bring her to the edge. She was so fucking responsive.

  Mine, the alpha in him claimed, stirring to life as a flare of possessiveness flooded his veins. She was close . . . so close to coming. Soon she would shatter against his tongue, and when she did, he would greedily consume every drop of her pleasure.

  Chapter 14

  The tension coiling inside Willow was unbearable. The way Regan’s hands roved over her, the intimate way he kissed her . . . She couldn’t believe it was finally happening. After all this time, Regan was finally hers. Everywhere he touched set her nerve endings on fire. It was as if he knew exactly how to maximize her pleasure.

  She wouldn’t think of how he’d gotten so good at this or how out of her league she was with him right now. He didn’t seem to mind that she was new at this, and that helped ease the fear that her lack of experience would ruin it for him or that she wouldn’t compare. How many years had she been saving herself for this moment—for him?

  Regan’s tongue found the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex, and he sucked—hard. Her core clenched, tension building as she balanced on the precipice, suspended in a breathless moment before shattering into a million pieces, broken against the bank of her orgasm. Regan pulled every spasm of pleasure from her with his insanely talented mouth.

  He slipped a finger inside her, and then he coaxed in a second as he kissed his way back up her stomach, pausing to play when he reached her breasts. The invasion stretched her channel, but she was so ready for him, for this, that she surrendered herself to the inevitable discomfort of a virgin’s first time.

  She pulled down his jeans and hooked the waistband with her toe, dragging them down his long muscular legs until he could kick them free. Boldly, she wrapped her hand around his erection. Regan’s throaty groan was one of pure masculine approval. She stroked the length of him and then knew a moment of true panic. He was huge. This was not going to work. Perhaps he sensed her fear, because he lifted his head and met her eyes.

  “What’s wrong, baby? You scared?”

  That was put
ting it mildly, but she didn’t want to appear even more inexperienced than she already must. What if he misunderstood her reservation and changed his mind? She shook her head. “No, it’s just . . . You’re, umm . . .” How could she say this in a way that wouldn’t make her sound like a scared little girl that had no business getting into bed with Regan “Rapscallion” Matthews?

  He waited patiently for her to explain, and when words failed her, his lips tugged into a crooked grin, reminding her of the guy she’d grown up with. This wasn’t Rapscallion; he was never Rapscallion with her. This was her brother’s best friend, the guy she’d been in love with for, like, ever. The guy who’d picked her up from school when Kyle was busy training; the guy who’d helped celebrate her birthdays and consoled her during tragedy—and there had been a lot of that over the past years. He’d always been in her corner, supporting her, caring for her. She could tell him the truth.

  “You warned me you might not be gentle. But I didn’t realize that you’re umm . . . You’re really big.”

  That crooked smile grew to a teeth-flashing grin that made him look more like a handsome shark. She felt his cock jerk in her hand, and that both thrilled and scared her at the same time. She didn’t know anything about this man’s body, except it was huge and powerful. Was she being naïve? He’d tried to warn her that doing this tonight might not be the best idea.

  “That’s why we’re taking our time right now.” His fingers pressed deeper, moving inside her as if he was searching for something. She knew the moment he found the hidden treasure because a jolt of pleasure shot right through her. She gasped as her channel clenched around his fingers; her hips tipped up, silently begging him to do that again.

  “You like that,” he teased playfully, nuzzling her neck.

  “Yes,” she whispered when he touched that secret place again. The tension coiling deep inside her was quickly drowning out any doubts or fears. The ache blooming in that spot was like an itch she needed him to scratch. The fullness of his fingers felt so good—how much better would it be to have him buried inside her?

  Her grip on his erection tightened, and she slid her hand up and down his length, surprised to encounter moisture at his tip. Did he already come? “Regan?” she whispered, skating her thumb over the wetness circling his crown. His erection jerked again, and more liquid escaped. His face was buried in the side of her neck, and he let out a low tortured groan. “Did you . . . ?” She let her question trail, too shy to say the words.

  “Come?” he finished for her. “No, but I should. God knows I’m never going to last inside you like this. And I don’t want to hurt you, but the selfish bastard in me doesn’t want you any other way. I want to come inside you the way I’ve dreamed of doing as long as I can remember.”

  That was the only encouragement she needed to banish her virgin fears. “Then take me,” she whispered, her breath catching when his fingers stroked that delicious spot again and again. “I’m yours.”

  “I love you,” he confessed before his mouth came down on hers. She nearly whimpered in protest when his fingers left her, but then his hand clamped over hers, his grip firmer than the one she had on him as he stroked her hand down his length a couple of times before guiding himself to her opening.

  The stretch was a sweet invasion at first as his mouth continued to devour hers—tongues tangling, his inhale stealing her breath, his exhale giving her lungs the air she desperately needed.

  He retreated and then pressed in farther. It was starting to get uncomfortable, but the sweeping of his thumb over her clit confused her senses, mixing the pain and pleasure. There was a slight tremble to his arm as he held himself above her, his only tell to the restraint it was taking him to hold back—that and he was no longer kissing her. His face was buried in the side of her neck, and she could hear his efforts to pace his breathing, the tortured groans that were so incredibly erotic.

  “Fuck, Willow, you’re so tight. I’ve never felt anything this good before.”

  He withdrew and pushed forward with a bit more force. This time it hurt, and she sucked in a sharp breath. She could feel his control slipping. A fine sheen of sweat coated his back as she gripped his shoulders, fingertips anchoring into the dip of the muscles stretching across his shoulder blades.

  Regan must have sensed her spike in fear because he stopped moving and lifted his head. When he looked down at her, she could see his concern warring with so much desire it nearly took her breath away. “Do we need to stop?”

  He would do that for her. As difficult as that would be for him, he cared more for her comfort than his own. And at that moment, she fell even deeper in love with him. No matter how much he wanted her, no matter how much it killed him, she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he would stop if she said yes. But she wanted this—even if it was more painful than she’d been expecting. She wanted him, and she refused to let her fear steal this moment from them.

  “No, don’t stop. Just do it,” she encouraged.

  There was another moment of hesitation. His eyes asked are you sure? She nodded. He kissed her, his talented tongue distracting her as he pulled back just a touch and then shoved forward, burying himself deep inside her with one final thrust. A cry ripped from her throat, and a sharp, barked curse tore from Regan’s as his massive body tensed above her. She could feel him pulsing inside her. Heat blasted against her core as he came against the deepest, most intimate part of her.

  It felt good, and the pain quickly subsided, replaced by a fullness she never wanted to end. But it was over before they started, which was surprising, because that was not what she’d been expecting to happen. If Regan’s reputation preceded him, and it had, he should have been able to go all night.

  “Just give me a minute,” he told her, kissing her throat and making no attempt to move.

  So yeah, that just happened. He’d just come like a one-pump chump getting his dick wet for the first time. He never lost control like this—ever. What in the hell was Willow doing to him? If he wasn’t so cunt-drunk right now, he’d probably be able to muster the proper amount of embarrassment over this epic failure.

  But holy shit, he couldn’t feel anything close to remorse. The low ache starting in his balls told him his hard-on wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  “You all right?” he asked, kissing a trail up her neck.

  “Yeah, you?”

  “Fucking fantastic.”

  “You came.”

  “I did.” He’d come harder than he’d ever come in his life, but he kept that tidbit to himself.

  “Is it over?”

  Wasn’t she adorable? She thought this was all he had to give her? Bending down, he kissed the tip of her nose before giving her his roguish grin. “Not even close.”

  Chapter 15

  Kyle’s going to kill you,” Willow commented matter-of-factly as she lay sprawled on top of Regan, her cheek pressed against his pec as she drew lazy circles on his chest. Her breathing hadn’t returned to normal yet. A fine sheet of sweat still coated her sweet body. He’d lost count of how many times he’d made her come—three or maybe four? Not bad for her first time.

  And yeah, Kyle would, but Regan refused to dwell on that right now. That Kyle was where Willow’s thoughts so quickly returned after what they’d just done was kinda deflating and just a bit concerning. He didn’t blame her for worrying, but Regan didn’t want anything spoiling this moment for her. The last thing he wanted to be thinking about right now was Willow’s brother—especially not when he had her deliciously naked and in his arms, basking in the post-orgasmic bliss of the most incredible sex of his life.

  He’d never been with anyone he cared about before, and Willow had been his first—his first and his last. He belonged to her now. Just the thought of being with another woman made his chest tighten with the bitter sting of betrayal.

  Lifting a chunk of her platinum-blonde hair, he twisted it around his finger, admiring the color—or lack of it. It was so pale it almost looked
silver. So beautiful . . .

  “You don’t think I know how to take care of myself?” he teased, purposefully keeping this serious conversation light.

  She pinched him playfully, and he flinched, a chuckle rumbling deep in his chest.

  “You think this is a joke, but I’m not kidding. You should have seen what he did to Landon Nelson for kissing me behind the bleachers when I was in the tenth grade. He left the football game early and came to school the next day with two black eyes, a broken nose, and a busted lip. He refused to talk to me after that. Wouldn’t even say hello.”

  “Yeah . . . that wasn’t Kyle.”

  Willow’s head shot up, her jaw dropping as she pinned him with a glare. “That was you? Regan, that poor guy ran in the other direction every time he saw me for the next two years!” This time she pinched him harder, but he could see her top lip twitching with the faintest hint of a smile.

  “Oww,” he complained with a chuckle. He reversed their positions, and she let out a startled yelp, laughing when he rolled her, pinning her to the mattress. He was already getting hard again. Trapping her in this submissive hold was turning him on. Who the fuck was he kidding? Everything about Willow turned him on.

  “Poor guy? Landon Nelson was a prick. I caught him out in the parking lot during halftime, smokin’ weed and bragging about getting you behind the bleachers. He was telling his friends what he planned to do to you when he took you home that night. I just showed him why that wouldn’t be such a good idea.”

  The playful smile on her face melted into something a lot more serious. She studied him for the longest time, saying nothing and making him more uncomfortable as the seconds passed. His only saving grace was her hands slowly, gently, tracing the muscular contours of his back while she watched him, seeming to put different pieces of the puzzle of her life into place.