by Sam Crescent
“Please, Travis,” she begged as she came down from the high, but she didn’t know what she was begging for, what she wanted. Did she want him to stop?
It felt so good with his dick inside her.
Travis kissed her, sweat shining on his skin, and, by instinct, Sarah knew he was about to climax. His cock throbbed, seemed to grow in width and length for a breath-hitching moment, and he rolled his eyes. His body jerked, no longer controlled by him, and became a mass of movement.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growled.
With a final thrust down, Sarah felt his cock pulsing, then his seed exploding. Wet heat flooded her as his climax continued to spurt.
“Jesus, fuck!” he said, gripping her waist, fingertips pressing into her flesh. “Stop, honey. Please stop. I can’t…”
She eased to a halt, looking down at him, worried she’d hurt him or had done something wrong.
He looked up at her. “It’s okay, honey. I’m just tender. You’ll learn when to stop, because I plan on us doing this a whole lot more. God, woman, you fuck like a dream.”
She smiled, so damn pleased with herself, and braced for more pain as she lifted off him. Thankfully, it was just soreness from being stretched, and she settled by his side where they rested, panting in each other’s arms.
* * * *
Sarah woke when Travis carried her through to the bathroom, her heart melting upon seeing light from several candles burning around the tub. The sweet scent of bath soaps filled the air.
“You didn’t have to do this,” she whispered, nuzzling his neck, wondering how she’d got so goddamn lucky.
“I wanted to. You deserve the world.” He lowered her into the bath, turning on some soothing music to play in the background.
Moments later, he climbed in and settled behind her, his arms circling her waist. She let her head fall back on to his shoulder.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked.
She shook her head, too busy looking around and trying not to over-think all of his hard work. It would be so easy to love this man…
Her heart stuttered. It wouldn’t be so easy—it was easy. She didn’t understand how it had happened but it had. Maybe she’d grown to love him over the past year, confusing that emotion with friendship. She looked down into the bubble-soaked water and knew her heart was owned, and would only ever be owned, by this man.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I never meant to hurt you. I had no idea…”
Sarah, shocked by her thoughts, jolted at his words. “You didn’t hurt me, Travis. On the contrary, you finally made me feel.”
It was the truth. Before Travis Williams had entered her life she’d been a shell of a woman and now she was alive and ready for more.
“Let me care for you?” he asked, taking a cloth and dropping it into the water.
Sarah moaned. She couldn’t bear to talk and allow her long-held emotions to close round the moment and strangle it. She knew Travis cared, but with the opening of her heart, she knew it would terrify her to let him know what she was thinking and feeling too soon. To be vulnerable to anyone would be the hardest thing in the world. What would she do if she was to wake up alone now? To find out all Travis wanted was a quick tumble with the ice-queen ranch owner? That it had all been a deliberate ruse, with him using her as she’d feared? She was young, she was sure she would get over it if this turned out to be true, but would her life ever be the same?
She watched him move from her back to between her legs, leaning her head against the bath tub. He took the cloth in one hand and her foot in the other and lathered her leg and insole with warm, soapy water. She groaned at the touch, lifting her leg as he followed the cloth all the way up and down. Once one leg was thoroughly washed and cleansed he moved on to the other. She’d never dreamt it was possible to become aroused while someone washed her. Every time he turned his gaze on her, she didn’t know how to explain the tight heat in her stomach and her cunt, shooting from those points and throughout her body.
“What are you doing?” she asked, gasping when the devil of a cloth touched right against her heat.
He replaced the wet fabric with his hand, his thumb pressing on her pulsing womanhood while his fingers sought the entrance to her pussy.
“I don’t want you to stop thinking about me,” he said, thrusting two fingers inside. “I want to be the only man who fills your head and your cunt. The only man who you want to wake up with every day and the one you want to kiss goodnight.”
Sarah held on to the sides of the tub, closed her eyes, her body becoming alive with his passionate onslaught.
“I could never stop thinking about you,” she confessed.
He licked a trail up to her mouth and she gasped. Already attuned to Travis and what he wanted, she opened up to receive him.
‘A wolf looking through your window. I shot the little fucker in the foot before he could get any closer…’
Why was that goddamn man’s voice penetrating her mind whenever Travis came close to making her feel like a quivering mess?
She responded to the threat of those words, tightening up, and the pleasure stopped instantly. She silently cursed Clark and the shitty horse he’d ridden in on. The bastard needed to learn to stay the hell away from her—and her thoughts.
“What’s the matter, honey?”
She loved hearing Travis’ endearments but needed to ask a question, otherwise she could imagine Clark and his irritating voice fucking over her future intimacy with this man. Clark’s words echoed in her mind again.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she said through clenched teeth, then sat up to splash her face with water and tried to clear her mind.
“Did I do something?” Travis asked.
She wiped her face and shook her head. “Not. It’s not you. It’s something Clark said. I keep hearing it.”
His eyebrows shot up and he grinned. “My fingers were buried deep inside your hot pussy and you’re thinking about that fucking loser?”
Okay—said like that, it sounded damn awful.
“I can’t get what he said out of my mind.” She bit her lip. It would sound so stupid if she asked him.
“Tell me so we can get it out of the way.”
She frowned, shaking her head. It’s so stupid.
“About a wolf being outside my house,” she said quickly and waited to see if he gave it any serious response.
“I didn’t see a wolf.”
Aggravated now, thinking she was losing her mind, allowing that bastard to make her feel this way, she just came out with it. “He said he shot a wolf in the foot. Travis, you were shot in the foot.”
He was also in the bath and didn’t appear to have a scratch on him.
“Are you trying to say I’m a wolf?”
She detected the humour in his words and wanted to beat him with a big stick. Saying the words out loud had sounded ludicrous.
“No… Yes… I don’t know.” Placing her head in her hands, she didn’t have the first clue what to do. Make a joke of it? After all, was she seriously considering Travis being a wolf? People didn’t change into animals, she wasn’t stupid. How had she let Clark make her ponder such a dumb thing?
“No,” she said. “I don’t think you’re a wolf. Stupid of me to bring it up.”
“Okay, now that’s settled, let me wash you and then carry you to bed where I can make love to you every way possible.”
What woman in the world would argue with that?
He massaged her muscles as he washed her, going slowly, driving her insane. He heated up her body, a sure-fire way to make her want more. By the time he carried her through to the bedroom, Sarah wanted to be loved and fucked for hours.
Travis kissed every inch of her, shocking and delighting her as he opened her legs with his callused hands and moments later made his tongue dance between her wet folds. She cried out, sinking her fingers into his hair, her body whirling along the peak of pleasure. He pierced her folds with his tongue, pushing it inside
her channel, making it feel as though he made love to every part of her at once. Her mind grew wicked with every movement he made, the wanton side of her begging to be set free.
He rested her legs over his shoulders, drinking her in. She couldn’t stop watching. Everything he was doing made her want him more. Her release was quick and strong, and he fed his cock to her cunt while still controlling her climax with his fingers, her walls tightening as he pushed inside.
This time he made love to her for hours. Slowness by agonising slowness, he took her, and Sarah enjoyed and loved every second.
Travis rolled over, taking her with him, allowing her to ride him at her own pace. Sarah gasped. He was deeper and she could take as much or as little of him as she wanted. He rested his hands on her hips, helping but not controlling. He was under her power and she used it to the best of her ability. Watching his reactions became like a drug. She wanted to see him lose his mind the way he’d made her lose hers.
“Shit, Sarah, faster,” he cried out.
She leant down, kissing him, and before she knew what was happening he had her under him and had slammed all of himself inside her.
He moves so fast…
Crying out together, they let go. Sarah fell and fell hard, and not just through climax and the heat.
She fell headlong in love with the man in her arms.
Chapter Nine
Travis awoke, instantly alert. Some fucker was outside, he knew it. He lay in the darkness, staring at the shadowy ceiling, his heart thumping, and strained his ears to hear even the slightest of sounds. Sarah’s steady breathing filled the air around him. His pulse quickened, the throb of it almost drowning her breath out.
There it was again—the noise he must have heard while sleeping. Like metal being clanked. Keys, maybe? A chain being rattled? He eased out of bed, mindful not to wake Sarah. The last thing he wanted was for her to spring up, panicked that Clark had returned. No, she needed a good night’s sleep, not one disturbed by Travis’ possibly overactive imagination.
Who was he kidding? He’d heard that sound all right, no doubt about it.
He moved over to the window, wincing at the sound of his feet rasping against the floor, and slowly drew the edge of one curtain across, giving him just enough space to peer out to the ground below. The paddock was empty, the gate shut as he’d left it, and everything appeared as it should. A creamy moon glowed brightly, its light illuminating the area, showing him that no one lurked in those God-awful spooky trees running down the side of the field either.
So was someone in the house? Was that it?
Leaving the window, he walked to the door, looking back at Sarah to make sure she still slept. Her chest rose and fell, her hair spread out over the pillow, and he wanted nothing more than to get back into bed to nestle beside her. But keeping her safe was more important. Regretfully, he turned away and padded downstairs to the kitchen, picking up his discarded jeans and pulling them on. He put on his shirt, fastening the buttons as he walked over to the window, and stared out again.
No one there.
He searched the house, footsteps seeming loud in the stillness of the night, and came up empty. He returned to the kitchen, stuffing his feet into his boots then finding the key in a drawer in the sideboard. Sarah would be fine inside alone for the time it took him to search the grounds. He didn’t intend being a minute longer than he had to.
Outside, after locking the door and slipping the key in his jeans pocket, he circled the house, again finding nothing. He made for the tackle barn, wondering if whoever had come visiting had holed up inside. No horses nickered in the stables nearby and he gave a small sigh of relief. They’d be the first to complain if some stranger interrupted their night. Nevertheless, nerves skittered in his belly, and he pushed the heavy door open, bracing himself for an attack. Inky darkness bled into everything, and he couldn’t even make out the tool table to his right or the tackle hanging on the wall to his left. He cursed himself for not bringing a flashlight and took another step inside.
There. What was that smell?
He sniffed, long and hard, and caught an unmistakeable whiff of Clark. No wonder the horses hadn’t caused a fuss. They knew Clark, were used to him. So Travis had been right. The man hadn’t intended making him wait and fret for him to get back at him at all—he’d come right out fighting at the earliest opportunity.
But where was he?
He sniffed again, and another, stronger scent overrode the bastard’s. Rodney Dukes? What the hell would he be doing here? Travis’ mind went crazy. Had Clark brought Rodney with him so they could both take Sarah against her will? Or were they here because Clark wanted to make sure Travis was overpowered before he went through with his threats? Had Clark realised he couldn’t take Travis on alone? And everyone knew Sarah had a gun in each room of her house. Maybe that was it. Clark had brought Rodney along so it would be easier to distract Sarah from shooting Clark.
Walking to his right, going by instinct because his sight was obscured by darkness, Travis made it to the tool table. He patted the many surfaces of implements on top, pleased when his hand curled around a flashlight handle. He switched the beam on, arcing it through the air so the wide swathe picked up every nook and cranny.
No one was there.
What the fuck?
That tinkle sang again, and he turned to face the doorway, lunging through it and coming to a breathless stop on the dusty track outside. Rodney’s and Clark’s scents were stronger here—stronger than they’d been in the barn. So did that mean they’d been out here when Travis had been collecting the flashlight? He frowned at the thought. If that was the case, why hadn’t he heard them, sensed them? Why did his hearing work well one minute and not the next? Not knowing was driving him nuts, and he sniffed harder, concentrating to pick up exactly where those two men were.
A slight breeze gusted over him from ahead, bringing with it the unmistakeable smell of unwashed bodies—Rodney—and a sickly sweet aftershave unique only to Clark. Had they seen him in the barn and decided to leave? Shaking his head grimly, he clenched his jaw tight and followed the smell. It grew stronger the further he walked. Relieved that the men weren’t near the house and that Sarah was safe, Travis felt comfortable following the men’s trail and catching up with them, demanding to know what the fuck they’d been doing on Sarah’s land.
Travis walked quite a way. Nearly at the edge of Sarah’s property now, he made his way to the fence border and took a minute to rest. He leaned his arms on the fence and cocked his head. No sound but the wind and his own breathing. And not two scents now but only one. Clark’s. Maybe they had parted ways along here.
Climbing over the fence, Travis buoyed himself up for a long trek into town where Clark lived. He cast his gaze all around and, finding nothing untoward, decided to strip and shift. The faster he apprehended Clark the better. He draped his clothes over the fence, butted his boots against it, and let the wolf encompass him. The shift was quick, a pop-snap-pop of bones that heralded his body changing shape as he became the animal Sarah suspected him to be. Down on all fours, the crisp air cooling his tongue as he panted, Travis scented the air and took off in the direction of Clark’s place.
Shit, he loved this, running free, the wind in his fur, his paws pummelling the soft ground. His head usually cleared of all unsettling thoughts when he became his wolf, leaving him refreshed and ready to fight another day when he returned to being a man. Not tonight, though. No, he had Sarah’s safety on his mind—and catching up with Clark to find out what the fuck the man was playing at in the middle of the goddamn night.
As the silhouettes of town houses on the horizon grew closer, Clark’s scent came from another direction. Travis turned to his left, head tilted as he processed why the bastard’s smell would be coming from over there. His stomach churned with realisation.
Gordon’s Creek was that way.
Fuck. Fucking shit!
At full speed, Travis took off, galloping over the field
s, his intent to reach that creek paramount. If Clark hadn’t killed that hiker and dumped him there before, what the fuck business did he have even being at Gordon’s Creek tonight? The man didn’t strike Travis as the type to take a midnight dip, though God knew the jerk needed to wash the stench of that cheap aftershave off his skin.
Panting hard, Travis reached the creek and came to a stop. The mouldy smell of the water disguised Clark’s aroma a little, but it was still there all the same. This section of the creek was narrow, the width the same from right over there in the distance, but about three minutes’ walk to his left, the breadth widened, opening up to a deep pool that stretched on for a mile or so before it tapered again. He wasn’t exactly sure where the hiker had been found or why the dead man nagged at his mind this way, but he decided to obey his instincts and follow the creek where it was still narrow. He thought he recalled mention of the hiker being on a steep bank where bushes grew thick and fast, his body hidden beneath.
The dark shapes of bushes loomed to his right, maybe two hundred metres away, and, as he turned to walk that way, he growled at his instincts being correct.
He could smell Clark stronger now.
He loped towards the bushes, the feeling creeping inside him that Clark was inside them or behind them, ready to pounce. The man had drawn him out here, he was sure of it, to kill him like he had the hiker.
Oh, fuck. Is he really capable of killing someone, though?
As he drew nearer to the bushes, Travis squinted at the odd, dark shape in front of them. What the hell was that? He padded closer. Caught the scent of blood. His stomach muscles clenched, and he fought back the urge to retch.