Only Heaven Knows (Hell Yeah!)

by Sable Hunter

  “I need to know what that means, Bryn.” She’d been tentative with him and now Denver needed to know what their limits were because he was starving for the woman in his arms.

  Bryn closed her eyes again. “I don’t know, Denver. I really don’t know.” She was filled with longing. She wanted to give, and she wanted to take – she wanted to touch and be touched. To be brought to new heights she’s never imagined, to experience things she’d only dreamed about in private. But she wanted it to be more than fun, she wanted it to mean something to them both.

  Denver knew what he wanted, and he wanted it more than his next breath. He really liked this girl and he intended to be respectful, take his time with her, and make it good. His heart and mind were demanding more, he longed to hold her tight, to bury himself so deep inside of her that she’d never forget he’d been there first.

  “Bryn?” was his question.

  A kiss was his answer.

  He groaned as he joined their mouths once more, devouring her sweetness, biting her lips lightly, then kissing her deeply again and again. She slid both arms around his neck as the need boiled inside of Denver. His hand moved over her narrow waist, up her slender side until he could cup her breast. He moaned aloud, the feminine mound was small, round, fitting perfectly into the palm of his wide hand.

  “Oh, yes, Denver,” Bryn moaned. “That feels so good.”

  He massaged the firm globe, loving how she swelled in his hand, her nipple tightening as he caressed her. He moved from one side to the other – shaping, kneading. Suddenly, touching her breasts through the soft material of her blouse wasn’t enough. Denver needed to feel her, skin on skin. Moving gently, his hand found its way up under her blouse to encounter a soft cotton bra. With a few flicks of his fingers, the bra was pushed out of the way and he found the silky flesh of her breast. At last – he closed his eyes and gave himself over to the wonder of touching Bryn like this for the first time.

  “Denver, oh Denver,” Bryn purred as she felt his hand on her breasts – rubbing, molding, pulling and rubbing her nipples until she was dizzy with pleasure. She’d never known, never understood how wonderful, how beautiful, how glorious being touched like this could be.

  As far as Denver was concerned, he was enthralled. Enchanted. So aroused that he hurt, but totally committed to bringing this innocent woman her first taste of pleasure. For long moments, he palmed her breasts – caressing, squeezing, tweaking her nipples and loving how she writhed in his arms when something felt good. Sliding his lips from hers, he asked, “Can I kiss them?” He wanted to be patient and make her feel cherished, not forced.

  She whimpered her answer, “Please.” Afraid she might change her mind, he moved quickly, his hungry mouth replacing his hands. Delirious with need, he suckled and licked, feasting at her breasts with abandon.

  Bryn couldn’t think, couldn’t process anything but how wonderful she felt. More than anything, she wanted him to feel wonderful too. Without thinking, she placed a hand on Denver’s thigh, then removed it quickly. As dizzyingly aroused as she was, she just wasn’t brave enough to touch him there yet.

  Denver felt her tentative touch and knew it would be up to him to lead her where she wanted to be. To give them what they both needed, his returned to her mouth and kissed her again and again, an endless kiss that seemed to go on and on. His baby loved kisses, he could tell, so he gave her what her heart desired. When she was breathless, he eased back down her body, making love to her breasts with his mouth, moving one hand from her waist to her thigh. When he did, Bryn’s legs parted a touch, then closed.

  Bryn wanted Denver to touch her there, where his hand was straying. Between her thighs was tingling and warm, a yearning she didn’t really understand made her want to pull his hand down there or to touch herself – something she’d never done before. As much as she wanted to go farther, doubt was rising in her heart. Like the ebb of the tide, her desire would rise as he caressed her, then fade when she had even a moment of clarity to consider what she was doing. Yet, still he kissed, still he petted – and she was hopelessly, completely at the mercy of her own desire.

  Fast approaching the point of no return, Denver unbuttoned her jeans with a deft hand, never breaking their soul-stealing kiss. He knew she was close, all he needed to do was touch her little clit once and she’d be gone. He loved how she responded to him, bucking her hips and darting her tongue in and out of his mouth, “More?” Denver asked, pushing the tip of his finger down into the waistband of her underwear.

  “Oh, yes, please” Bryn gasped, pushing her hips toward his questing hand.

  “Are you sure?” Giving her an out was paramount to him and he would keep asking permission at every turn.

  “I’m sure…”

  With hesitation, Denver’s hand moved down until he was cupping the warmth of her sex. The heat was intense. Her jeans were loose and allowed room for him to maneuver – rubbing and caressing her through the material, letting her get used to the idea and to his touch.

  Bryn felt drunk with desire, she was vibrating with every touch of his hand. “Oh Denver!” Bryn gasped, falling forward onto his chest. “I didn’t know, Denver, I didn’t!”

  “More?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?” The way out would be offered at every intersection, Miss Bryn, best to get used to it.

  “Yes.”

  Tilting her hips with his hand, Denver pushed his way beneath the elastic of her panties again, letting the pads of three fingers caress the tender cleft. As he began to rub, letting his touch go from the well of her vagina up to the swollen button of her clit, his heart almost hammered out of his chest when he felt her tremble and clutch him close. “Feel good?”

  Bryn was lost in a cloud of delight. The newness of being touched like this overwhelmed her. Where was the shame? All she wanted was to be closer, so she pushed against his hand as she buried her face in his neck. “Yes, oh yes,” she keened.

  Denver couldn’t explain his own reaction, he was on the verge of coming and his cock was still tightly encased behind the zipper of his jeans. Just touching her like this, awakening her to ecstasy, Denver found this type of pleasure to be the greatest of all. The truth of ‘tis better to give than to receive’ was being played out in a way he’d never expected. As he continued to pet her, setting a rhythmic pace up and down her creamy slit, he varied his touch by slipping half of one finger inside of the tightest place he’d ever imagined. He moaned in amazement along with Bryn who was responding to the first penetration of her life.

  “Oh, please, Denver, please…”

  “Please what, baby?” he whispered, every nerve in his body stretched as tautly as piano wire.

  “Don’t stop, kay?” Bryn’s head was spinning, she could barely process what she was feeling. Euphoria. Emptiness. Desperation. Everything Denver was doing to her felt wonderful, but his gentle caresses weren’t assuaging her need, they only seemed to build on it – higher, higher. With every pass of his talented fingers over her burning flesh, she craved more and more. She wanted. She needed. As if it had a mind of its own her hand moved back down to Denver’s thigh again, this time for longer before she moved it away.

  “I won’t. I won’t.” The unconscious movement of her hand near his throbbing cock happened three more times as Denver kissed her neck and fingered Bryn slowly and with great erotic care. Her pleasure was his responsibility, his privilege, and he wanted to do nothing more than satisfy her completely.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered as she continued to make little forays toward touching him more intimately. Inside his jeans, his pulsing shaft was begging for attention. Even as he gave Bryn pleasure, he was slowly losing his mind. He knew she wanted to touch him, she was just afraid to do so.

  “It’s okay.”

  Bryn pulled back, but not very hard. She didn’t really know what Denver was giving her permission to do. Enjoy his touch? Open for him more? Or give him the same pleasure in return? The last possibility w
as by far the most intriguing. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to make him as happy as he was making her. But this prospect seemed beyond the scope of her imagination, venturing into whispered territory.

  “It’s okay,” Denver repeated for the third time, as if the repetition was the charm.

  Every fiber of Bryn’s being flared as Denver took her hand and placed it on the large bulge in his pants. She gasped at the energy beneath her palm. Of course, she’d never touched a man before. Her fascination and the joy she felt was a surprise. Wanting to give him the same pleasure he’d given her, she cupped her hand over his hardness and moved her palm up and down lightly over the considerable length through his jeans.

  “Oh, God, baby, that’s right. Feels so good,” he whispered as they petted and played, both luxuriating in the pleasure the other offered. Bryn felt overwhelmed, unable to fully concentrate on anything they were doing. His kisses and caresses were slices of heaven and the way he was touching her made Bryn feel like she was soaring in the clouds, tethered to this world only by her connection to Denver.

  “Will you take off your pants, so I can touch you?” Bryn asked in a barely audible register, the question surprising her as much as him.

  Part of her hoped he hadn’t heard her request, but Denver heard it loud and clear. “I’m yours, if you want me.” He wasn’t giving her permission; his words were more a plea than a request. As she struggled with the idea, he kept loving her with his lips and fingers, amazed at how wet and creamy he’d made her with his touch, his care.

  Biting her lower lip, Bryn acted without thinking. She didn’t want to analyze this moment, didn’t want it to be colored by the years of dogma and dictum she’d been subjected to. How could this be wrong? How could it be a sin? God had created them, he’d created this. And it was beautiful. Fumbling with his belt buckle, Bryn finally managed to undo his pants and slowly, with great care, she molded her hand to the part of him that was so different from her. “Oh, Denver…” she whispered, amazed at how different he felt than she expected. He was so hard, so hot, so alive beneath her hand.

  “Jesus,” Denver hissed when she tentatively rubbed him once, up and down.

  Her hand retreated immediately. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

  “God, no, baby. I don’t think anything anyone could do to me would feel better. Please, please don’t stop.”

  His eyes sparkled in the low light of the fire and Bryn lost herself in them. “Are you sure?” This time it was her giving him an out.

  “I’m having fun, aren’t you?”

  Fun.

  Was this all this was? Doubts were forming in her mind again. Right and wrong. Good and evil. Should and shouldn’t. Casting aside her fears, she tugged at the waistband of his briefs. “Just let me touch.”

  “You can touch all you want. I love your touch.” Denver shimmied to allow her to pull his pants and briefs down, and when she did, he was exposed to her – proud, strutting, and desperate for any attention she’d give him.

  “You’re beautiful,” Bryn whispered.

  Denver chuckled. “What were you expecting?”

  “I don’t know. I just…I...”

  She’d had little idea what to expect, the drawings and photos in the book hadn’t prepared her for what she was experiencing in the firelight with Denver. He was long and thick, pulsing with life. Tentatively, she clasped her hand around him and moved it in an awkward up and down stroke.

  Denver didn’t care how unskilled she was, her touch brought him the greatest pleasure he’d ever known. Throwing his head back, he groaned his approval.

  As she rubbed him, his hand was still moving in her panties, soothing and teasing, his fingers delving up inside of her, then out to encircle her clitoris. Her thighs were shaking and her inept attempt to please Denver seemed futile. What was she doing?

  Denver was so far gone, so lust struck, it didn’t matter to him one whit how inexpert she might be, her touch was all he wanted, all he needed. He tried to concentrate, to continue touching and pleasuring her, but a growing, consuming surge of electric ecstasy swamped him, and he found his hips bucking, spurts of his cum jetting from his cock and down to cover Bryn’s fingers.

  “Oh!” Bryn gasped, her body on fire, so near to something unknown, so stunned by Denver’s actions that she couldn’t stay still. Releasing him abruptly, Bryn pulled back and scooted a few feet. “I’m sorry.”

  Denver was limp and dumbstruck at the loss of their contact. “What the…?” Bryn was on her feet, doing her pants back up and adjusting her bra and shirt.

  “I’m so sorry.” She couldn’t even look at him. “I just…I can’t.”

  “Oh, honey, you didn’t come.” The girl looked downright scared and he was sure it was his fault.

  “The feelings were just overwhelming,” she tried to explain. She was embarrassed. Her body was demanding things she didn’t know how to process.

  “I pushed too far,” Denver muttered, pulling his pants back on. “I’m so sorry, Bryn. Here, let me clean your hand.” He knew she would have his cum on her fingers.

  “I’m fine.” She ran down to the river’s edge and pushed her hand into the cool waters. Her whole body was overheated.

  “No, you’re not. I didn’t give you pleasure.” He wanted to go to her and hold her, but feared making the situation worse.

  “You did.” Bryn hugged herself, then shook her head. “It’s not you, Denver, it’s me. It’s how I was raised.”

  “I shouldn’t have pushed so far. I should’ve given you more time. Do you want to leave?”

  She watched him pace in front of the fire. She knew it wasn’t his fault, he’d been caring and gentle and everything she had hoped for her first experience. “No, we can stay,” Bryn finally murmured. “I’ve never been camping before. I’ve never slept in a tent. I’d still like to do that if we could.”

  Raising his head, Denver ran a shaking hand through his hair. He still couldn’t explain his reaction to her, he’d exploded in her hand, rocked by the hardest orgasm of his life. She’d enjoyed his touch, he hadn’t imagined her response to him. Denver hated that she hadn’t let him make her come. He could see she was wound as tight as a spring, her need and her embarrassment merging in a fever she didn’t know how to handle. “If you want. I’ll sleep on the ground. I can move the tent, so the rock blocks the door. That way you won’t have to worry about me busting in on you.” He was almost sick with worry, upset that he’d caused her distress.

  “Denver.” Bryn took him by the hand. “Denver. Stop. Look at me.” Placing a tender hand on his cheek, Bryn forced him to look at her. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I guess I just let our fun get out of hand. It’s much more my fault than yours. I just need time.”

  “I like you, Bryn Harmon, a helluva lot.” He willed his heart rate to settle down. “What we did was amazing. I loved having you in my arms. Making you feel good makes me feel amazing. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything or anyone in my life, but if you need time, I want you to have it. All the time you need.”

  Denver’s words soothed and excited her, all at the same time. “What I need is to get back under the blanket and cuddle with you some more, if that’s okay. I’m cold. Could we do that?”

  Denver pulled her close, grateful just to have her in his arms. “Baby, we can do anything you want.”

  Bryn settled against him, stunned by what’s they’d done together and how much she loved how he made her feel. “Just hold me. I love it when you hold me.”

  Denver nodded as he led her into the tent and back onto the blanket where they’d almost made love. “I’ll hold you all night and tomorrow we’ll go from here.”

  Bryn went into his arms as naturally as a feather floating to the ground. She had no idea what tomorrow would bring, she was just glad he’d be there to face it with her.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Wrong!

  Three days or 72 hours or 4320 minutes. That’s how much time had gone by sin
ce she last talked to Denver. From their first meeting, this was the longest amount of time to pass without them communicating in some way.

  “Now, I know what an awkward morning after feels like,” Bryn muttered as she opened the register and logged into the store computer to begin her work day. Looking back, she was pretty embarrassed by the whole thing herself. She’d practically thrown herself at the guy, then once they were in the middle of fooling around, she’d chickened out. Worst of all, when she’d awakened from their night spent under the stars, it was to find him already dressed and anxious to get away from her. They’d scarcely said two words to one another on the ride back. Honestly, the man had looked miserable. As soon as they arrived at his trailer, he’d tipped his hat, promised to call, then jumped in his truck to hightail it away from her.

  And they were at his house!

  “Probably for the best, I’m always going to be an odd duck.” With a resigned sigh, she found the order book and began to prepare a funeral arrangement for the late, great, Wilbur Weewilly. “Poor Wilbur, I hope your name wasn’t a description.” As she wrapped wire on the end of a white gladiola, Bryn giggled. “Look at me, I made a lewd comment. Ha!”

  “I hope you haven’t made a practice of making lewd statements, Sis…Brianna.”

  Bryn whirled around, hitting an open bottle of water with the end of the gladiola. When she saw the black robed nun standing in front of her, she almost fainted. “Sister Carmen, how did you get in without making a sound?”

  Sister Carmen stared at her for a moment. “No hocus pocus on my part, I’m afraid. I reached up and held the bell. I wanted to…surprise you.”

  Bending over, Bryn took a few deep breaths. “Well, you succeeded. I think I aged five years.”

  “I’m certain you can reverse time, if you try.”

  “I haven’t tried,” Bryn stated flatly. She didn’t understand the animosity the Sisters felt for her. The worst thing she’d ever done to Sister Carmen was resurrect her pet kitten after it had been run over by a delivery truck. “How’s Fluffy?”