by Taryn Quinn
Softly, she started to snore.
Somehow that did it. Her murmuring my name while she was unconscious meant she had to sleep in my bed, even if no other woman ever had. Not here in my sanctuary. But she was already different in a matter of hours.
More different than I wanted to consider.
Carefully, I gathered her up in my arms, brushing kisses against her forehead as she stirred. She fell back asleep almost immediately and didn’t wake as I carried her down the hall to my bedroom.
I placed her on the center of the bed and tugged up the covers. I’d have to start the fireplace in here too. She wasn’t like me and hot despite the weather.
Besides, if she didn’t realize I was doing it, this didn’t count as taking care of her. I was the only one who would ever know, and for this moment, I could pretend. I could imagine that maybe I wasn’t a dickhead rockstar who’d fuck her and roll out of bed to head to the next town and the next conquest.
That I was worthy of a girl like this wanting to marry me like she’d wanted to marry that Smiley dude. And not just for the money that would someday be mine if the fates—and a hell of a lot of hard work—aligned.
A lot of maybes, and no one was in my head to hear them but me.
Once I’d started the fire, I went to grab her stuff from the living room and set it on the nightstand, including the condom and her keys. Then I crawled into bed with her. Close, but not too close. Giving her space.
Until I couldn’t any longer and slid my arm around her waist, drawing her against me. She smiled in her sleep and I was sunk. I shut my eyes and let myself pretend once more.
That this beautiful, funny woman was actually mine.
8
Maggie
I woke in darkness.
I blinked, trying to figure out why the moonlight was slanting across the bedroom ceiling. It didn’t in my bedroom at home, except on rare occasions. I turned my head, my eyes adjusting to the lack of light. No curtains? Mine were lacy and white and billowed in the breeze.
There was another glow on the ceiling, a flicker of orangish-yellow flames. I rose on one elbow, squinting at the fireplace opposite the bed. My gaze darted to the heavy arm pinning me down and my heart leaped into my throat before throbbing between my legs.
I didn’t sleep with a man in my parents’ house. Not even with Derek, and we’d all believed I would marry him one day. That was just the rules—no sleeping with the opposite sex outside of wedlock under my parents’ roof. Since I appreciated being able to live there for low rent while I finished up my courses at the community college, I abided by their wishes. For the last couple of months, I hadn’t had a man to invite over anyway.
Now I had one in bed with me—a huge, muscular guy with more than a little scruff that had abraded my thighs when he’d gone down on me. Something I wanted again, desperately.
He’d put me in his bed. When had I fallen asleep? Had we…
No. I remembered him going out to grab the condom and my purse from the car, but the rest was a blur. It was probably because I’d had sucked down all that beer. I was a total lightweight, so it didn’t take much. Add in the orgasm of the ages and no wonder I’d been down for the count.
Now I was just down for more sex. Like pronto. But that didn’t mean I had full control of my mouth when Kellan opened a baleful eye and let his gaze drop to my exposed breasts.
“It ain’t morning,” he rumbled, and I swear my nipples tingled as if he’d sucked on them.
“No. I slept like the dead though.” I rubbed my eyes. “You didn’t roofie me, did you?”
Yep, that would be the “not in control of my mouth” portion of the program.
He tightened the arm around my waist and hoisted me on top of him so I was straddling his hips with the sheet twisted beneath my breasts. My natural inclination was to cover them, but I’d seen enough approval in his eyes as he gazed at my naked body tonight to brazen my way through. Even in the low light, I could tell he was checking me out and his open perusal emboldened me.
“I gave you three beers and one helluva orgasm before you passed out on me.” His fingers dug into my waist. “I don’t drug women. When I found you sleeping, I brought you to bed with me. Where we slept.”
His tense tone made me want to soothe my thoughtless question. As a criminal justice student, sometimes me and my classmates employed weird ways of alleviating the heaviness of the topics we dealt with. Along with making morgue jokes and inappropriate remarks about serial killers, a few of us also had a fetish for slasher movies. I was guilty of all three.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, rubbing his bare chest. Touching him freely was a revelation. His skin was rough with hair and so hot, barely seeming to contain the corded muscles beneath. “That was tasteless of me and a side effect of my studies. It’s not anything to be kidded about and I apologize.”
“Your studies lead you to talking about roofies? Yeah, I guess they would,” he said before I could answer.
“I learn all the ways people hurt each other, and the methods we have of classifying them and stopping them.”
“You can’t.”
“No, but we can try. Trying is our only option. Otherwise, every person we don’t try to protect is on our watch.”
“A crusader.” He touched my bare belly and I dropped my head back. “I admire that, even if I think it’s a lost cause.”
“More or less lost than me getting you inside me tonight?” I asked huskily, well beyond any pride. I knew what I wanted, and I was tired of not getting it.
If this was my chance to show the universe I was willing to claim what I desired most, I intended to start with the very fine specimen of Kellan’s cock.
“From accusing me of drugging you to demanding sex. You’re an odd one, Magpie Kelly.”
I was still running my hands over his chest. Couldn’t stop. I dug my nails into his skin and savored his hiss of breath. “When you fuck me, call me Maggie when you call out my name.”
Though I’d barely gotten the curse word out, I’d managed it. Definite progress.
He grasped my breast roughly, his touch igniting my senses. Our eyes locked. “When I fuck you, you’ll be the only one calling out.”
My heartbeat quickened and I leaned back to free his stiffening cock from his boxers. The limited light in the bedroom still allowed me to see the pearl of fluid at the tip. “Are you a betting man, Kellan McGuire?”
Like a damn viper, he moved lightning fast again and rolled me beneath him. He pressed three fingers over my mouth, trapping my words and my breath as he leaned over me to reach the nightstand. “Yes. I’m betting the next thing you do is scream.”
I screamed behind his hand just to annoy him and he pushed his fingers between my lips, mimicking the hot shaft he thrust between my legs. Heavy and thick, he pulsed against my aching slit, shutting me up quick.
“Nice to know you have lungs.” He pulled out his wet fingers and slid his hand between our tightly wedged bodies, stroking them into me without hesitation. Two opened me up and I gasped, turning my head while he dangled a glorious foil packet over my head. “Think we should try for three.”
“Orgasms?”
“Greedy girl.” He chuckled darkly. “Fingers. Since you were worried about me fitting. Not a problem, by the way.” He spoke against my ear. “You know this snug little pussy would never keep me out.”
I writhed against his hand as he made good on his promise. I was pretty sure he was correct. No part of my body was restricted to him. Absolutely none. At least after another beer and some building up first.
Scary as hell and yet I wanted to see how far we could go. How far he would take me.
Willingly.
“Almost there already.” He bit my lower lip as he pumped his three huge fingers in and out, stretching me in a way that bordered on pain. It wouldn’t be anything compared to his cock, so I wanted the burn. Craved it.
I nodded, whimpering at the angle change when he flexed his
hand. He hit some spot inside me that had my eyes flaring wide. All I could see was his intent expression. He was learning me, I realized. Studying me like I might a textbook, except his method was way more hands-on.
“Oh yeah, you’re going to fly for me.” His thumb swept over my clit and I jolted off the bed, only held in place by the heft of his body. I liked having him on top of me, forcing me to take more and more. There was no evading him this way—or myself.
His fingers twisted and spread, scissoring inside me until the telltale heat built low in my belly. Too fast for me to try to slow this down. Too fast to do anything but brace my heels on the bed and rock into his dirty thrusts. I could hear what he was doing to me, every lewd bit of it, and that only turned me on more.
I wanted him to put his fingers in my mouth again. So I could taste myself. I wanted to suck on them while his knowing dark eyes drank down every movement.
“Stubborn little thing.” He crushed his mouth down on mine, but his tongue was silky soft as he slipped inside. He kept the pressure of our kiss a direct counterpoint to his furious pounding between my legs. He skimmed that secret spot again and again, and I jerked beneath him, helpless.
I had become his instrument, and with just his fingers and mouth, he kept me hovering on the edge.
“I want your screams.” He bit my earlobe, and the sharp pain tugged my clit. “Scream for me.”
In any other situation, I would’ve laughed at him and myself for even being tempted. But in this dark, warm bedroom, so far away from the world I’d known before I met him, nothing seemed funny. No request seemed out of bounds.
Then he hooked his fingers inside me, angling just right, and brushed my clit, and I didn’t have a choice but to do his bidding. I screamed myself raw, first as the pleasure engulfed me and left me shaking and then again and again as he just kept going.
No cease. No mercy.
The first orgasm was like ripping off a Band-Aid. The second—and third—were like dropping into an endless rippling pool of warm water. My body floated away from me and my mind followed suit, leaving me at his control. Quaking, moaning, lost to him. Nothing but a mass of sensations as I watched him strip off his boxers.
He knelt between my legs and stroked his hard cock. He was so erect that his shaft stood away from his body, aiming straight at me. He needed the tight warmth that I could provide, and I needed the swift, deep thrusts he’d give me. Vanquishing everything but him and me.
Us, the most beautiful word I’d ever heard.
The sound of the foil packet being opened was loud in the darkness. The fire crackled, the flames highlighting the breadth of his shoulders as he rolled on the latex. He remained silent, staring at me all the while.
I couldn’t look away.
He didn’t fumble into position. Didn’t ask me what I wanted. He just gripped my thighs and hauled me closer, drawing up my legs to hook around his waist. Then he loomed over me and grasped my chin, distracting me with long, slow kisses that belied the jut of his cock against my cleft. His thumb found my clit at the same moment the head of his shaft entered me on a shallow, slippery thrust. He pulled back and surged into me again, deeper now, my body acceding to his invasion.
There was simply no choice. He dominated me. Possessed me.
Owned me.
My chest hitched on a trapped breath. God, he felt enormous, but I was so aroused there was no discomfort. Only pleasure chased his first pass. And the second, and the third.
So many times I lost track.
He pushed my legs higher, hooking them around his neck so he could pound into me without mercy. I moaned, thrashing beneath him on the mattress. I threw out a hand to grab the sheets and hit the nightstand instead. The pain that sang up my arm barely registered.
There was nothing but him.
The bed springs shrieked. So did my muscles, but I didn’t care. I’d never experienced anything like this. Never been taken so ruthlessly. He wasn’t showing me any tenderness. If anything, with every thrust, he was rougher, wilder. Grunts burst from his throat and punishing fingers dug into whatever soft skin he could reach. His thumb was relentless on my aching clit.
If I’d had screams left to give as my orgasm built, I would’ve offered them to him. I was giving him everything else. My eyes, wide open on his. My body, pulsing with need. My heart—
No. That was mine still. I wouldn’t give that away again so freely. Not even if I was feeling more than ever before in this furtive moment in the firelit dark.
“There.” He grinded into me, so forcefully that I sawed my teeth over my lower lip. “Right there.”
I whimpered, nearly delirious. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. My body was full of him. He was in every pore, every hit of air I took. That alpine shampoo of his, the tang of sweat and sex. Then my own scent as he pressed his damp thumb into my mouth, giving me something to suck on while my core clenched.
I was so close to coming. Just a little more…
“Fuck.” He didn’t stop, dragging his thumb away and replacing it with his mouth on mine. No matter how crazily he pumped into me, his kisses were always soft and lingering. So confusing. My body didn’t get it, and my head definitely didn’t.
Tears of frustration popped into my eyes as he drew back and flipped me over on my hands and knees. He clamped a hand on the back of my neck, holding me down while he pushed into me from behind. My eyes blurred so I closed them, biting the pillow at the rush of heat that accompanied his strokes.
I lost track of time. Of myself. All I could do was cry out into the pillow as he ravaged me, stroke by stroke. He finally found his release, his shout breaking against my shoulder. “Maggie.”
Just that, over and over. I would’ve smiled but I had no strength left.
His heaving hips forced me down to the mattress while sweat burned my eyes and my body shook through what seemed like one endless orgasm. I grasped for his hand, for some kind of anchor, and his fingers tangled with mine. Centering me when all I could do was drift.
“Kellan.” His name was the only word I could say. The only word I could think.
Before I’d recovered, he rolled me over. He stripped off the condom and disposed of it, then lowered his head to lick my slit. The gesture was so sexy and dirty that I couldn’t do anything but part my legs and yank on his hair as he pulled another climax out of my spent body.
There weren’t words when he brushed his lips over mine. I was still hungry for his taste. For my taste on his tongue. Lifetimes passed while he made love to my mouth and eased me down from my high.
So many highs. So much new.
I scraped my nails down his shoulders, clinging to him like an addict as he tugged the covers over our sweaty bodies.
“Sleep,” he said against my forehead, and I couldn’t argue. I sought his fingers in the dark, bringing them between my breasts.
Now I could rest.
I dropped into a welcome void of unconsciousness, knowing he guarded me in my sleep. His body so strong and hard as it sheltered mine.
I didn’t know how long I slept before a sudden pounding against the wall shook me awake. It sounded like someone was ripping apart the place, board by board. I shot up in bed as the house shook again and again.
Heart in my throat, I fumbled for Kellan, but he shoved me back and murmured, “Stay here.”
Someone was knocking. Shouting. More than one voice maybe? I shook my head, trying to clear it, as Kellan pulled on his boxers and grabbed what I assumed was a pair of pants and shirt and quickly dressed in the dark.
“Don’t move,” he instructed me and I nodded, too out of sorts to argue.
Kellan’s footsteps pounded down the hall as I swung my shaky legs out of bed and reached for the glowing phone on the nightstand. But it wasn’t mine. It asked for a passcode, and still half asleep, I punched in the most basic one on the off chance he’d taken the easy route.
He had.
The time glowed at me. Six-eleven. Not even daylight
. I could hear voices down the hall, hushed, urgent ones. Curiosity and panic warred inside me, but over both was the need to text my own phone. To know he had my number and I had his before we separated.
Because I knew we’d separate, that we’d been headed to this moment since I’d crashed into his ditch.
My phone beeped from within my purse on the nightstand. I had his number. He had mine. If either of us changed our minds, we had options.
If not, it would be only this, and this had been everything.
I gripped a handful of my hair and his phone, holding onto both as I stumbled to my feet. I dropped his cell on the nightstand and swung my gaze around the room. My clothes. Where were they now? Still in the bathroom where I’d shed them before my shower so many hours ago?
Even putting one foot in front of the other took effort. Luckily what was left of the fire lit my way out of Kellan’s bedroom and into the bathroom. I flipped on the light and gasped at my appearance.
I’d never looked just fucked before. Or if I had, it had never been like this, of that I was certain.
My skin was reddened from his beard. My chin and cheeks were flushed and bruising skin flared under my jaw and in interesting places along my neck. I turned to look at my back, letting out another gasp at the path of stubble and hickeys that marred my pale skin.
I could feel the burn between my thighs too from his stubble. And his cock. I shuddered and gripped the edge of the sink in boneless fingers, twisting my thighs together as my wonderfully abused clit throbbed.
My nipples beaded as I studied myself, my gaze lingering despite the rising voices coming from down the hall. I couldn’t look away from myself and who I’d become in the course of one night.
“Maggie.”
My father’s shout made me lurch back from the mirror. I frowned and shoved my hair away from my face as I gazed around blearily. My clothes were stacked neatly on the back of the toilet where I’d left them earlier. I pulled them on haphazardly, hating each layer as I piled it back on.
I’d been the next thing to naked for most of the evening and naked all night long. I didn’t want to hide in all this material again. More than that, I didn’t want to open the door to my worried, frantic father and feel ashamed that I’d been more myself with a stranger than ever before in my life.