Untamed: (Heath & Violet) (Beg For It)

by Callie Harper

  “You’re wet,” I observed, taking a step closer. Under my steady scrutiny, she crossed her legs, embarrassed. “Oh no.” I shook my head. “That’s not going to work.” I looked into her eyes. “Spread your legs for me. I want to take a good look.”

  Looking down, she bit her lip, clearly nervous. Also clearly aroused, her nipples like two succulent strawberries on top of mounds of cream. I wanted to dive in, but I held back. For now. Slowly, she opened her legs, moving one foot to the side, then the other. Nice and wide open for her man.

  “That’s good. Now reach a finger down and feel how wet you are for me.” Eyes wide, she looked at me, panting. I could tell she’d never been asked to do something like that before. Good. I didn’t want anyone else telling her that kind of thing. Only me.

  Dutiful, she brought one of her fingers down to her wet pussy and swept it into her depths, stroking where she’d already grown so slick. Her eyes glazed as she did it. She liked pleasuring herself at my command.

  “Show me,” I ordered. She met my eyes, a bit confused. “Show me your finger,” I insisted.

  She held it up for me, glistening and coated with the wetness of her arousal.

  “You see that?” I asked, taking her hand in mine, making her look at her finger, the evidence of her arousal. “That’s how I know you’re mine. I spanked you and it made you so wet.”

  Her breath came in a pant, her breasts quivering. I took her finger into my mouth and gave it a slow lick. She whimpered, her gaze fixed on my lips. “You taste so good,” I groaned. “But right now I’m not going to eat you. Do you know what I’m going to do instead?”

  I slid my large hand between her legs, lightly grazing her slick pussy. She cried out at the contact, dripping wet. I dipped my fingers into paradise, caressing her, and she reached her hands up to my biceps, steadying herself. Her eyes closed and she moaned, deeply, giving herself over to it, to me. I stroked her, letting her know I had her, I’d take care of her. I’d give her everything she needed, everything we both did.

  A slow drop of her arousal dripped down her inner thigh. I caught it with my fingers and brought it back up again, working it into her sex.

  “So wet for me, baby.” She moaned, loudly. “I know, I know you need it.” Down at her dripping pussy, I stroked her, parting her, finding her clit with my thick fingers. “Tell me what you need, Violet.”

  “You,” she groaned.

  “Do you need my cock?”

  “Yes!”

  “That’s good. Because I’m going to fuck you hard.”

  She gasped, and I pulled her by the wrist over to the couch in my workshop. I lay her down on it. Her golden hair spread out around her lovely face, her breasts quivering and bare, her wet, glistening pussy begging for my attention. There was a lot to admire. Some other day.

  “Are you ready?” I grit out between my teeth, barely holding myself back. I tore off my shirt, unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them off quick as I could.

  “Yes,” she moaned, gazing up at me.

  I pulled off my boxers and my huge, hard cock sprang free. Veins bulged, my crown swollen to epic proportions. I was so much bigger than her. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I knew I needed to bury myself in her. And I could feel how much she needed it, too. I kneeled and grabbed a condom out of the back pocket of my jeans—luck favors the prepared. One day I wanted to take her bare.

  But right now, I sheathed myself and positioned my tip at her quivering, wet entrance. She grasped my arms, looking up at me with such trust.

  “I’ll try to go slow, baby,” I reassured her.

  “Heath! Please!” she begged me, and I tensed, wondering how worried she was about my size. She had reason to worry. But then she added, panting, pleading, “Please fuck me!”

  CHAPTER 13

  Violet

  The look in his eyes when I begged him. If I hadn’t already been on the verge of orgasm, that look alone would have gotten me there. Heated, possessive, wild. I knew he was gigantic and I should be feeling hesitant, maybe even anxious. But that wasn’t how I felt.

  I wanted to grab on for the ride of my life. I reached up and around his hips, digging my fingers into his firm ass.

  “Fuck me, Heath,” I begged, feeling his wide tip right at my entrance. I’d never been so wet in my life.

  With a swift, commanding thrust, he entered me. My eyes flew open. It burned. He stretched me so wide. I brought a hand up to his chest, my mouth open in shock. He pulled out an inch, then drove back in even farther.

  “Oh!” I gasped, panting, not sure what I’d gotten myself into. Or what had gotten into me. He stilled, looking down at me with the same intense heat. “Are you…? Is there…” I gasped.

  “More,” he growled, moving again, out giving me a moment of relief mixed with loss. Then again, he drove into me and I screamed with the sensation. I’d never felt so filled, so pushed to the brink, so stuffed full of cock. I couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t process what was happening.

  He wrapped a large hand under my ass, holding me there as he began to move, and he ducked his mouth down by my ear. In a low, husky whisper, he told me, “You feel so good, Violet.” He thrust into me, long and full, and I moaned, my body adjusting to his size. “So sweet.” He licked my ear, sucked my lobe as he inched out, then filled me to the hilt again.

  “Oh!” Pleasure rippled through me right to the core as he began a steady rhythm, rocking his hips, thrusting into me so deep I almost couldn’t take it. Only I wanted to, I wanted it so much. I felt a deep hunger growing in me, a growl starting from within, something primitive and primal and relentless. “Yes, fuck me,” I heard myself moaning.

  “Yeah, Violet?” He pushed up, holding himself above me with his palm on the floor. With his free hand under my ass, he tilted my hips more toward him. “Is this what you need?” In a deep, powerful thrust he buried himself in me.

  “Yes!” I screamed as he did it again. So huge, all that muscle right in front of me, over me, in me. I felt surrounded and possessed and so completely gone to it as I brought my hips up to meet his thrust, now wanting, taking, needing everything he could give me.

  “You’re so wet,” he groaned, sliding faster now, driving into me, ramming into me with such power all I could do was wrap my thighs around his and hold on. I was screaming now, screaming his name, screaming for more. I didn’t know what was coming out of my mouth I just knew I could feel the orgasm building, thundering, cresting deep inside.

  “That’s it, baby. Let yourself go. I’ve got you.” At his words, I came apart, pleasure exploding and engulfing me, burning through my core and shooting out along every limb.

  “Heath!” I screamed, clutching at him, bucking into his cock again and again.

  “You’re going to make me come, Violet,” he groaned, looking down at me with such hunger another spasm of pleasure rocketed through my core. With a great, almost mighty growl, he thrust full and hard and deep inside of me and came with a roar. I took it, my eyes closed, lost entirely to it, to him as he thrust and shuddered and then sank down to hold me in his big, powerful arms.

  Nestled into the crook of his neck, I kissed him, his skin glistening and warm. He smelled so good, such an intoxicatingly male scent. I licked him and gave a contented purr, running my hands up his broad back.

  Lowering himself down to my side, he took me into the fold of his arm and pulled me close. We kissed and he looked deep into my eyes.

  “Violet,” he said, “I think you’re going to be the death of me.” Before I could reply, he came in for another kiss, savoring me like a rare and delicious delicacy. Then he met my eyes again. “And I’m going to die a happy man.”

  §

  “Steve and Kenny are set to arrive tomorrow afternoon.” Sam arrived at my condo unannounced the next morning. I’d made it home last night, sore and with a smile on my face, but I’d only been asleep for a few hours before he knocked.

  “What’s up with you?” he asked, instantly int
rigued, scrutinizing me from head to toe. I felt like a teenager the morning after a party in the kitchen with her mom. Only a typical mom would be a lot more clueless than Sam. He had eyes like a hawk.

  “Someone got laid last night!” he declared.

  “Please,” I scoffed, heading into the bathroom. “Give me a sec. And make us some coffee?”

  “You little whore! I’m so jealous,” he called after me, not deterred in the least.

  In the mirror, I saw the hopelessness of my case. It wasn’t just my ratted up hair or the faint pink mark on my throat where Heath had sucked me so good. It wasn’t the scratch on my wrist from the rough floor planks. And Sam would have no idea about the ache between my thighs from the rough workout I hoped I’d get the chance to do again soon, really soon. It was the glow.

  There it was, all across my sleep-deprived face. I looked messy and entirely free of makeup and radiant. My skin had never looked so good. No facial, peel, tonic or lotion could ever produce that kind of post-orgasmic pink, the best skin elixir of them all. I looked happy. Not the kind of “check that off the box” happy I felt after a productive meeting, or “that was fun” happy after drinks with friends. But happy, happy. Like a deep well of happy, past exuberance and on into ecstatic.

  Heath was so freaking amazing. We’d spent the night together in his workshop. We kept meaning to get up and get dressed. He’d wanted to show me his cabin, and he’d gotten concerned that I was getting cold or uncomfortable. Then we’d start kissing again and that was that, lips, skin, sighing, moaning. Before we knew it the sun was filtering through the window and we hadn’t moved from my parka spread out on the floor planks. The Fame! Network had put me up in some pretty swanky hotels, but I couldn’t think of a bed I’d ever enjoyed more.

  Sam knocked on the bathroom door, startling me. “Who was it?” he called from the hallway. “Was it Tom?”

  “Go away,” I shooed him off. I was used to his nosey ways. Everyone back at the office was like that. Kissing and telling was as much part of the Fame! Network culture as bitchy backstabbing competition. And that was the problem.

  It wasn’t exactly as if I’d done something forbidden. A woman was allowed some fun, after all, and it wasn’t as if Heath was on one of our shows.

  But I didn’t know what Sam would do with the information if he found out we were hooking up. I did know that I had a bad feeling about it in my gut. Maybe it was better to let him think it was Tom.

  I washed my face and pulled my hair up into a messy bun. A turtleneck would call too much attention, so I opted for a shirt with a collar and hoped Sam wouldn’t do too much investigative reporting.

  “So Steve and Kenny come tomorrow?” I tried to steer our conversation into safer territory as I finally emerged, gratefully pouring myself a cup of coffee. “Not Miguel?”

  “Miguel’s booked. But you and I need to figure shit out. They want something end of next week.” Sam and I had done such a good job selling our boss that he wanted to see some preliminary footage. Just with the people who’d signed a release, just in a couple of locations. Enough to get a taste of what Hot Off the Grid could be like.

  Today was Thursday, so we only had a day to sort out what we wanted to capture before the cameramen arrived. The line between scripted and free-for-all with reality shows was a fine one, as I’m sure anyone who’d ever watched one would know. Producers could spice things up and package scenes in all kinds of ways to create drama.

  “We’ll need to feature your hunk of burning love,” Sam declared, settling himself into a chair at my tiny kitchen table. “Maybe we can set a fire somewhere?”

  “Arson, OK.” I nodded, sitting next to him, revealing nothing. I hoped. “Let’s make that our fallback plan.”

  “It is Tom!” he exclaimed with delight.

  I shrugged, letting him believe it was the fire warden. “I had a fire that needed attention.” Not exactly lying, but definitely misleading.

  “You saucy minx.” He winked at me.

  “So if arson’s plan B, let’s sort out plan A.”

  As we hashed and sketched and debated, it didn’t take long to realize Sam and I had entirely different conceptions of the direction we needed to pursue. In addition to our agreed-upon main characters—firefighter, K teacher, brewery owner (roughly 30 and ruggedly handsome), and organic farmgirl (25 and adorable), he wanted to cast a teen mom torn between her baby daddy and her new boyfriend. I wanted to feature some of the local businesses and the characters involved with them, like the ladies of the antique store and the yoga/meditation/dance studio/yarn shop.

  “Boring!” he declared.

  “No, it’ll be cute! Sweet! Like the Gilmore Girls!”

  “People watched the Gilmore Girls to find out who the mom and the girl hooked up with.”

  “Lorelai and Rory,” I corrected him. “And it wasn’t just that. People loved the town, the charm, the eccentric characters.”

  He yawned dramatically. “When did you turn 65?”

  “This is Stars Hollow!” I declared, gesturing around me. OK, at my small condo, but I meant Watson. It was gorgeous, charming, friendly. We’d be stupid not to feature the setting and the quirky charm of the businesses and their owners as much as any romantic entanglements we could discover.

  “I know someone over at the BBC working on documentaries. Would you like me to see if he can get you a job there?”

  To be resolved later. We weren’t going to see eye to eye, so we agreed to disagree and just get some preliminary footage over the weekend that we could shape later into a pitch. If we even could do that.

  We still had the town hall hurdle to jump over. Monday night the entire town of Watson was going to show up in a community gathering to debate the merits of a reality show filming in their midst. We needed the town’s green light if we were going to do this. I’d never been subjected to a democratic vote before. I wasn’t looking forward to it.

  But I had better things to look forward to, much better.

  Heath called me around one in the afternoon. Thankfully, Sam had left and I was alone to answer his call.

  “How’re you feeling?” he asked. He was concerned, but I also detected a note of masculine pride in his voice.

  “Sore,” I answered with a grin. He knew what he’d done to me. And how I’d loved every second of it.

  “I know you are,” he answered, and I could hear a satisfied smile in his voice, too. But he did add, “Too sore?”

  “Are you worried it won’t happen again?” I teased.

  “Oh, it’s happening again,” he assured me. “I just need to know how much of a break my woman needs.”

  I flushed at the words. Such a backwoodsman, claiming me as his woman. Why did I love it so much? “I don’t need a break,” I whispered, feeling a naughty tingle. Did he want me as much as I wanted him?

  “I’ll pick you up at seven. We can have dinner. And then I have a surprise for you.”

  “You do? What is it?”

  “I can’t tell you. Then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

  §

  An afternoon spent reading Nancy Drew mystery books and watching the snow fall. I couldn’t believe my life had gotten so good so suddenly. I’d popped back to the antique store downtown and impulsively bought a set. And I’d poked around, crunching in my boots, warm in my parka and mittens and hat. In the yoga/dance studio, a woman was leading a tai chi class. In the general store, I bought some locally-made maple sugar candy. On the way back to my condo, I stopped by the local brewery and picked up some of the hard apple cider I’d fallen in love with right from the source.

  Watson was like a little beehive, everyone doing his or her part, working together. I could see plotlines falling into place, stories waiting to unfold. Maybe Sam was right and I was being an idiot, but the network wanted something different, didn’t they? Sure, the show I could see getting filmed in Watson would be more wholesome than what we usually did, but it would have more heart. It would connect with p
eople on so many more levels.

  Sam didn’t buy it, but maybe I could create my own compelling case? The camera crew arrived tomorrow. Maybe with their help I could start capturing the story I could see? Then it would be up to the powers that be back at headquarters.

  By the time Heath picked me up at seven, I’d completely convinced myself. I didn’t need Sam’s help. I’d build this story on my own. There were enough local gems here the execs would have to realize they’d found a diamond mine.

  “Hey.” Heath stood outside my door, big and dark with his hands stuffed in his pockets and a knit cap on his head.

  “Hey.” I smiled up at him shyly and he took me into his arms, wrapping me in an embrace and a kiss like I’d been dreaming about the whole day.

  “I missed you.” He nuzzled into my hair, pressing my lower back with his large hand.

  L.A. Vi might have teased or laughed, maybe even felt a little stifled by his words. Vermont Violet sighed and admitted, “I missed you, too.”

  I didn’t understand what was going on. Heath was such a strange and unusual mix of gruff and sweet, alpha and dominant and possessive and yet it didn’t piss me off. It made me feel so treasured and safe and protected when I was with him. My brain couldn’t process it all. He’d spanked me last night. Spanking! And had I turned and run from his cabin? Kicked him where it counted? Nope, the rough feel of his large, strong hand smacking, then caressing my ass had gotten me so wet I’d felt a slow, lazy drip right down my inner thigh. He’d found it, too, and I’d even liked that, him discovering my arousal, making me admit it to him.

  Whew. Too much for my brain to make sense of. So I just smiled up at him, put my hand in his and let myself enjoy the ride that night.

  We got dinner at a homestyle restaurant featuring farm-to-table cuisine. Inside, on this winter’s night, soft twinkling lights combined with country curtains to give it warmth and charm. The food was on-par with anything I’d had in L.A., with the added bonus of no pretention whatsoever. I guessed that was what struck me the most about Vermont. Everyone was just what they seemed, no putting on airs or trying to be something they weren’t. It was such a refreshing approach, a simple menu with only about eight options, all things you’d heard of like ribs or cod or meatloaf, all mouthwateringly delicious and served with a smile.