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Protecting Rayne

Page 11

by Emily Bishop


  The thought of her naked, legs spread around me while I bury myself between her thighs rises right to mind, and I clear my throat. The woman is in danger. She is injured. The last thing I should be thinking about is fucking her.

  You hear that, brain? Stop thinking about fucking her!

  “It might not be a bad idea for your foot in a little bit, though we’ll want to ice it first.”

  Rayne chuckles, and I’m glad to hear it. It’s a far better sound than her tears. “I think my foot has been iced up plenty, don’t you?”

  “It doesn’t count when you’re walking on it when you should be resting.”

  She nods. “Point conceded. A bit of rest does sound pretty great right about now. It’s been an eventful morning.”

  “I should say so,” I agree.

  Memories of our fight appear in my head. Once again, I was ready to cut this woman out of my life for good. There’s something about her that I can’t seem to let go of. She’s vibrant and radiant, but her light is being doused by a psychopath who’s left her cast in shadows and fear.

  Her anger, while infuriating, now makes sense, and I want to make sure that Rayne is taken care of. After all, I am the proprietor of the resort. It’s my job to keep her safe at this point, isn’t it?

  “I think it would be wise for you to stay with me from here on out. If you need to go somewhere, I’ll go with you as your escort. I don’t think it’s safe for you to go around alone at the moment. We don’t have enough information to know what could happen.”

  “Not to mention the few times I have been alone, I’ve gotten injured,” she says.

  I glance down at her in surprise, and she smirks up at me. Her lips are round and full, and I want to run the pad of my thumb along the corners before I take a little bite of that delectable flesh.

  Injured. Frightened. Woman.

  Get it together, man.

  “I’m willing to admit that I may have been a little bull-headed through all of this. The truth is, I’ve been running on my own for so long that it’s hard for me to accept help when it arrives.”

  “It’s hard for anyone who is used to making it on their own to take help when it’s offered, I think.”

  My cabin comes into view, the warm plume of smoke a welcome sight in the wet cold. A wave of relief pours through Rayne’s body as her tense muscles relax a little, and I feel a certain amount of satisfaction in that. I am responsible for that relief. I am responsible for her safety.

  We hobble together up the porch steps, and I open the door. The inside is cozy and comfortable, and the scents of wood smoke and the faint odor of fried eggs from breakfast greet us as we walk inside.

  “Here, let’s get you on the couch. I’ll make a hot cup of tea.”

  “That sounds amazing,” she breathes. She winces as I set her on the couch and then rise. I think I should check on her ankle first, but during my preliminary check, she didn’t seem to be in any immediate danger. The swelling should go down a little by tomorrow. She may be able to hobble around soon, if I can convince her to stay off it.

  I stride into the kitchen and set the teapot on a burner. I pull out a pair of tea bags and mugs and prepare the hot brew before I bother sliding out of my jacket. I hang it on the back of a kitchen chair then pull out a jar of sugar.

  “Green tea OK?” I call out.

  “If it’s warm, I’ll drink it!” she calls back.

  For such a wealthy woman, Rayne is wonderfully low-maintenance. Steam shoots from the spout of my teapot, and I remove it from the heat and pour us two healthy mugs full before I spoon in sugar and bring them over to the living room.

  Rayne has managed to strip out of her jacket and gloves as well, and she leans forward, rubbing her hands together in an attempt to stave off the chill from a frosty and frightening morning. I hand her a mug, and she accepts it with a grateful smile. She cradles it in the palms of her hands as she blows on the hot liquid to cool it enough to drink.

  “You never told me what happened to you after your father died,” I say.

  I know I probably shouldn’t pry, but I’m curious, and she’s finally opened the doors to herself for me. I want to know more. Rayne’s gaze grows distant as she stares into the flickering flames of my fire.

  “I stayed with an aunt and uncle after my father’s death. My father’s will stipulated that I was not entitled to his fortune until my eighteenth birthday.” Rayne sighs. “I’m grateful for those years, though. I learned a lot about hard work and how to get by on my own. Trust me when I say my aunt and uncle weren’t the pampering type. I met my assistant, Helen, through them and we pretty much became fast friends.”

  An image of Rayne cuddling two beautiful small children on her lap, smiling beatifically down upon them dances along the edge of my mind’s eye. She would be such a beautiful, wonderful mother. Wait, why am I imagining Rayne with babies?

  I take a sip of my tea, and it burns my tongue. It’s the reality check I need to bring me back to the present.

  “Let’s take a look at that ankle,” I say. I can’t stop worrying about it. I can’t stop wanting to touch her.

  “It’s fine.” Rayne tries to pull her foot away and winces.

  I shoot her a knowing look. “We both know this needs to be looked at. Now sit back and cool your tea while I get this boot off.”

  “It’s going to hurt,” she squeaks.

  Rayne never fails to confuse me. One moment she is Super Woman, the next she is Lois Lane falling through the sky, desperate to be rescued.

  I nod. “It might, a little. I’m fully trained in CPR and first aid, though, so don’t worry. I’ll be more than gentle. I think we should head into town down the mountain tomorrow to speak to the police.”

  “Really?” she asks, and her eyes brighten. I remove her boot, and she doesn’t even notice.

  Expert-level distraction.

  “Yes, really.” I peel off her sock as I continue speaking. “When the snow clears and we’re able to get down there, I think the folks around here will be much more amenable to hearing your story.”

  “Why do you suppose that is?” she asks. I roll her foot around and she goes a little pale, but she says nothing. It’s sound enough, but she’ll need to stay off it for a little bit.

  “The local police don’t get a lot of crime around here. The most they typically get to do is pull over a tourist for speeding, and a lot of times they don’t even like to do that. Seems unfair on roads where no one drives anyway. This is an actual case they can work on. I think you’ll find them eager to help.”

  I rise and walk into my kitchen. After these past few days, I certainly haven’t had much time to do anything but keep Rayne from hurting herself.

  And, of course, keep Rayne coming.

  My cock tingles, and I fetch a cold pack for Rayne. I’m not going to let my lurid thoughts get in the way of her recovery. I’ll simply have to take care of myself when I have the time.

  “Here. Put this on it for the rest of the evening. It should help.” She accepts the pack and places it on her injured foot, then looks back up at me. “You really think that we’re safe up here? That the local police can help us?”

  “Of course, I do. On that note, though…” I walk over to the front door and bolt it shut. I then make a sweep of the entire cabin, slide a lock over every single window and my back door. I’ve never had to use these before, but they were built-in when I bought the place.

  I sit next to Rayne and wrap my arm around her shoulder while she ices her foot before the fire. It’s good to be locked in while the snow continues to pile up outside. The sun sets behind the clouds, though the only hint that we have of it is the cabin darkening around us.

  “Dinner?” I ask.

  I glance over and realize that Rayne is nodding off against my shoulder. I slide out from under her and lower her onto the couch. She’s still wearing her other boot, so I slide it off and pull a blanket over her. In sleep, her face is slack and peaceful, and I watch her
for a long time.

  Whoever this Larry Corker is, he’s going to be in for a hard time when he meets me.

  I guarantee it.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Rayne

  I am peace itself, my mind in a blissful, dreamless utopia as I float through a sea of heavenly nothingness. I shift my leg and a small pain cracks into this magical place, this place where no fear or anguish exist. What is that little sliver of pain doing slicing through my happiness?

  I roll over and nearly fall off Lorn’s couch.

  “Ah,” I grunt. My arm jets back, and my hand grips the back of the couch as I pull myself to safety. The fire has gone out sometime in the night, and the room is much colder than it was when I fell asleep. I snuggle back into my cocoon and glance around.

  The sun has clearly risen, but it’s still not terribly bright in the cabin. I remember my ankle and the reason that pain woke me up. I take my time sitting up and then stare at my bruised foot. It’s certainly looked better, but I think I’ll make it through.

  I circle it a few times to the left and right, keeping my movements slow. It’s stiff, but it does feel much better. I glance around again, looking for Lorn, but there is no sight of him. I test my foot gingerly on the wood floors, which feel like ice beneath my warm bare feet.

  We need another fire up in here, stat.

  When my ankle holds up, I kneel and stack some fresh wood in the wood stove before I light it up. The warmth seeps right through my skin, and a sense of happiness peeks through the darkness that has become my life of late. I assume Lorn is still in his bedroom sleeping, and I don’t want to disturb him.

  Instead, I walk toward the kitchen. I limp only a little on my injured foot, which is a good thing, considering how much worse it could be. When I look out the window, the snow hasn’t stopped coming down. There has to be a lot of snow out there now, and no sign of it letting up any time soon.

  I paw through the cabinets as I try to think of something to make us for breakfast. After all Lorn has done for me, it’s the least I can do. I hear a noise from his room. The door is closed, but I can’t help but be curious. My heart flutters a little at the thought that he’s awake, that we can spend the day getting to know one another better, now that our major secrets are all out of the way.

  Yes, that sounds lovely.

  I pad over to his door and think about knocking, then decide against it. I turn the knob and press the door inward.

  Lorn is propped up in his bed, buck naked. His hand glides up and down his dick. His eyes are closed. He doesn’t realize I’ve caught him yet, so I take a moment to enjoy the view.

  His thick cock is rock hard in his hand as it slides up and down, and he releases a quiet grunt as his toes curl. I’m instantly jealous.

  “Ahem,” I say.

  He opens his eyes, and to my surprise, his cheeks blossom with a blush. Lorn is the last man I could ever imaging blushing, especially after the sexual acts we’ve committed, right here in this room. I cross my arms at him, his hand frozen on his still-erect penis.

  “I could have helped with that, you know. I think I owe you at least three orgasms.”

  He grins at my comment, and I saunter in, ready to make love to him.

  He shakes his head. “You weren’t in any condition to…”

  I crawl up the bed so that I’m seated right above his penis, and I lock my eyes with his.

  “I am now,” I say. I reach down and grip his hand with mine, then unwrap each individual finger until his grip loosens enough for me to swat him away.

  “I didn’t want to make a move, because you’re so fragile at the moment. It didn’t seem right.” He’s making excuses for himself, but I can convince him otherwise. I am, in fact, perfectly capable. At least as long as I can keep my foot stable and out of the way.

  “Does this feel fragile to you?” I grasp his shaft in my hand and give it a few firm strokes. He moans and closes his eyes, then opens them to watch. I lean down and slide my tongue along the base of his balls, curling it as I lick and suck them straight into my mouth. As I do, I continue stroking his dick, and he groans again.

  “Fuck that’s good,” he breathes.

  I take that encouragement and release his balls from my mouth as I move farther north to the base of his dick. There I start a winding path as I work my way up to the tip, where a little bit of precum sits waiting for me to suck dry. When I reach the end, I take his tip into my mouth and suck it, biting down a little. He hisses inward, and his hips rock to reach deeper into my mouth.

  I’m not sure how much of him I can get in, but I want to try and see how far I can go. I relax my throat and slide down, farther, farther. The tip of his cock presses against the back of my throat, and I still press on, sliding him in as deep as I can. I pull back out and flick my tongue along his tip, much like he did with my clit before. Then I slide back down, testing my own barriers once again.

  I slide up and down a few more times. Now that he’s nice and slick, I get my fist working the shaft again while I head back down to his balls, where I lick and suck and play to my heart’s content.

  “I want to fuck your mouth,” he breathes. I oblige, sliding my tongue back up until I cup him in my mouth. He holds on tight to my hair as he thrusts into my mouth, and once again, I allow my throat to relax as he goes in nice and deep.

  “Oh my fucking god,” He breathes. My mouth is slick with saliva as he comes inside, his warm fluid filling my mouth as I swallow it down.

  I pull back and wipe my mouth as Lorn lays stupefied on the bed, his legs sprawled while he fights to recover from his massive orgasm. When he looks up at me, his eyes are loaded with intention.

  “Now you get to be mine,” he growls.

  He tugs me up to him, and his mouth crashes against mine. Even in his passion, he holds back a bit. He’s being gentle with me, afraid he might hurt me. He shifts and lays me on my back in his bed, still kissing me as his hands land on the top button of my jeans. In an instant, his mouth is gone as he slides all the way down my body. I watch as he unzips my jeans and slides them off my legs to the floor.

  My white lacy underwear are all that stand between him and my pussy. I’m hungry for his tongue, excited to feel him plunge it deep inside me once again. He slides my underwear down until they cross my feet and hit the floor, and then he spreads my knees and opens my center up to his hungry gaze.

  “I’m so thirsty.” He glances up at me with a wide grin, then lowers his head to my slit and leaves a nice wet streak down the middle with his tongue. I jump at the sensation, and he grips my hips with his hands to keep me in place. He spreads my opening with his fingers and slides his tongue inside before he slides right back out, leaving a furious longing it his wake.

  He slides it back in, then all the way out, nice and slow. No, not nice and slow. We’ve already done slow. I want more. I want it fast. I want it hard and deep.

  “Fuck me hard with your tongue. As hard as you can.”

  It’s a brave thing for me to ask, given my own chaste history, but I’m emboldened. I want what I want, and Lorn will give it to me. I simply have to ask. His tongue plunges deep into my pussy, and he pulls my thighs apart as he tongue-fucks me deeper than ever before, lapping along the sides of my cunt as he thrusts into me repeatedly.

  I’ve never been fucked by a tongue before. I’ve been licked. I’ve been sucked. This is a whole new level. His tongue is large enough to fill me, and it’s slick and slippery and delicious as he curls it all the way up and nearly reaches my g-spot.

  “More,” I beg. “Oh, please, more.”

  He picks up his pace and fucks me as hard as he can, his tongue straight out as it plunges in and out of me. He removes a hand from my thigh and presses down on my clit as he continues his pace, his tongue filling me then filling me again.

  I cry out and my legs shake with the delicious agony that is pleasure. With another lick of his tongue, I pulse around him, and I glance down. He’s licking up every last drop of
my cum.

  “Mmm, that’s yummy.” He licks the side of my leg and looks up at me with mischievous eyes.

  I can’t speak or move. My whole body is numb from the explosion of it. He slides back up and takes me in his arms, and together we snuggle close as we watch the snow fall outside and I wait for my heart to stop pounding.

  “It’s too dangerous to trek down the mountain in this snow,” Lorn says, and I’m brought back to reality. “When the weather clears, of course.”

  “You think we’ll be OK until then?” I ask. Thoughts of Larry sitting outside, waiting for us to come out so he can take us down haunt my mind, and I nestle closer to Lorn.

  “Yes. With the weather like this, wherever he is, he won’t be able to move easily, or get far. The snow can prove to be our safest barrier. There’s too much risk of injury out there.”

  I want to believe him. I do. Something in me refuses, though. What is Larry doing at this moment? Does he know I’m here? Is he right outside the cabin, or is he far enough away that we’re safe from him?

  I don’t know. I hate that.

  “Looks like we’re stuck in this cabin together for the day.” Lorn doesn’t sound at all sad about that.

  I grin up at him. “Looks like it.”

  “What do you say to another delicious Lorn Hart breakfast, followed by some reading this afternoon? I have plenty of books we can enjoy while the snow falls. No other technology, really. I think I have a game of Jenga somewhere…”

  I laugh and press my face against his chest. “Why don’t we try a delicious Rayne Carr breakfast first, and then we can figure out how to entertain ourselves for the day.”

  Lorn grins down at me, and I give into the temptation to run my finger along his perfect little dimple, visible above his beard.

  “That sounds like a deal,” he says.

  Maybe today might involve some fun.

  Chapter Twenty

  Lorn

  I can’t help but sneak a glance as Rayne slides out of bed and back into her jeans. A pang of disappointment washes over me as the denim glides up over her waist, once again concealing the perfect flesh beneath.

 

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