It wasn’t enough. “Please?”
He kissed the tip of each breast, sucking each in turn before nuzzling into the side of her neck. “How about we make a deal?” The question wafted against the sensitive cord of her neck. She curved her fingers over his shoulders.
“What?”
The bed dipped, shifting her to the right as he continued his climb. “You forgive me this time, and I’ll let you run amok later.”
His cock nestled into the damp well of her vagina as his hair fell over her face, obscuring her view. She shifted back to level as her left arm joined his right—even with her shoulders.
“Forgive you for what?”
“My impatience.” The explanation ended on a hiss as he pressed against her.
“Oh.” He was big. His fingers on her cheek soothed her nerves. He was still in control. But dear God, he was so big.
“Easy, Sunshine.”
The mattress creaked as he shifted his weight onto his forearm. He was breathing hard, his breath hitting her cheeks in rapid puffs. He cupped the back of her head in his hand. He smelled of coffee, her and them.
“I’ll be as easy as possible,” he whispered against her mouth. “But I can’t wait any longer to be inside you.”
She could feel his urgency in the quiver of his muscles, the restrained power surging through him. She tilted her head back into his grip, knowing it was the right thing to do as he groaned and kissed her throat. She pushed his hair back to better see his expression. It was hard, almost savage with the desire tearing at him. For her.
“You need me.”
The kiss he pressed into the hollow of her throat was violent with restrained hunger. And still he held back. “I’m aching for you.”
She’d never known anyone like him. “Let me get my cream.”
“You don’t need cream.” His laugh was more of a moan. He caught her hand in his, dragging it down between their bodies until her fingers dipped between her legs. Her flesh there was abnormally soft and wet. Slippery. “Feel how ready you are for me. How your sweet pussy is crying for me.”
Her fingers bumped the head of his cock. She turned her hand in his, grasping the thick stalk. She couldn’t wrap her fingers around the smooth, hard shaft, but she tried, squeezing what she could. Clint stopped breathing, his whole body caught in a desperate, expectant stillness. His huge cock leapt in her hand as his body jerked down. The resulting charge of sensation up into her womb had her gasping and instinctively arching up. He pushed harder against her. Her flesh tingled and ached as her muscles fought to accommodate his entry. A whimper tore from her throat.
“Son of a bitch.” Clint’s torso slammed her down into the mattress, keeping her from moving. “Don’t do that, baby.” He dragged her hand off him. “You’ve got to leave a man some control,” he drawled as he brought her hand up between them.
His dark eyes held hers, his nostrils flaring as he caught her scent. He brought her fingers to his mouth with deliberate intent, and closed his lips over the first two. He shuddered, his eyelids lowered, and his cock rocked against her opening as his tongue lapped the underside of her fingers. With his gaze locked on hers, there was no way she could mistake his response for anything else than pleasure. He sucked and then paused, as if savoring her flavor, letting it roll across his tongue before he swallowed. His lids lifted and his pupils flared as he went after the third finger.
“You taste so good, Sunshine. You make me want to eat you from sunup to sundown.”
Those words, spoken in that rough drawl, rode her nerves harder than a caress. He really did like her. As she was. There was no way anyone could fake that much passion.
Clint’s lips and tongue worked her fingers, tugged at hidden nerve endings until it felt like he was so deep inside her, he was tonguing her womb. The tingling spread outward, making her ache and throb, tense with the need for more.
“That’s it,” Clint whispered in that deep, dark tone. “Just relax and let me in.”
She was, she realized. Though it felt like some invisible spring was coiling tighter and tighter deep inside, her woman’s flesh was actually relaxing against him. Welcoming him. With every pulse of his hips, he was gaining a fraction more entry. And her body was clamoring for more. Beyond sense and beyond reason, she wanted him in her. Wanted him to fill her.
She tried to push up. To help. A simple flex of his hips kept her in place.
“No.” He kissed her palm before placing it on his shoulder. “You just relax and let me do this.”
It was easier said than done, especially when he brought his big hand between them and paced the rough surface of his thumb high up on her pussy, just over her clit. He did nothing more than rest it there while he maintained the pressure of his cock against the tight ring of muscle guarding her passage. The inner urging to move, to mate, grew stronger.
“Clint, please.” She was so empty, and she needed him to move. His fingers. His hips. She needed him to fill all the places in her that had been empty for so long.
“Please what?” His voice was hoarse and raspy. He needed her as much as she needed him.
She bit her lips, and tried to decipher all the needs clamoring for notice. Her nipples ached against his chest. Her clit ached against his thumb. Her pussy ached against his cock. Any place her body touched his, nerve endings screamed for attention. Stimulation. She couldn’t isolate it to one need so she generalized it into one command.
“Move!”
Even as the words left her lips, she couldn’t believe her daring, giving a man an order. But she needn’t have worried. Rather than tensing up, Clint laughed that way he had that sent shivers down her spine, and she had a bit of what she wanted as his chest vibrated against her nipples, giving them a small taste of what they cried out for. His black eyes didn’t miss a thing, least of all her surprised expression.
“Like this?” he asked with pseudo innocence as he dragged his chest across hers, the ripples of muscle and scar tissue abrading her nipples deliciously. Pleasure bound with desire, twisting around her chest, constricting the muscles, leaving her helpless to do anything, even breathe, as the sensations whipped through her, soothing and intensifying the painful need.
“Or like this?” he asked as he worked his thumb gently against the hood of her clit until she gasped and then, smiling a smile so wicked that Satan would be jealous, his teeth flashing white in his dark face, he rubbed that spot with deliberate slowness. He chuckled when she began to pant, laughed when she cried out, and encouraged her as a scream built in her throat.
“Oh you like that don’t you, Sunshine? You like my thumb on your clit, rubbing it over and over, making it nice and hungry.”
Oh she did. She did. He grazed that eager nubbin harder this time. A sensation just short of pain shot through her. Her head snapped into his shoulder as her body jerked helplessly.
Wetness gushed over her thighs.
“Give that to me again, baby.”
As if she had any choice. The stroke that accompanied the deep whisper drove the scream from her throat. It was too much. He was too much.
Yet it wasn’t enough. None of this was enough. She wanted to pull away. Push closer. Beg him and beat him at the same time. She wanted him to make it stop, and at the same time she never wanted it to end. She needed so badly that she didn’t think she’d survive the want and he just kept making it worse, keeping up that relentless stroking as he pressed harder against her, his huge cock making demands at her body’s entrance that she couldn’t resist. With a hard stroke of his thumb he sent her over the edge. Amidst the echoes of her scream, he surged into her.
Reality splintered away as pain and pleasure combined in a tidal wave of sensation that tossed her up into his shoulder. She grabbed at him tooth and nail, struggling for purchase in a world that consisted of nothing but splintering emotion. He grunted, swore and pressed against her, his shout echoing in her ear as she bit down. His big body shuddered over hers as he pulled her into him—into
the fire. His cock wedging deeper, taking her higher, driving her further away from what she knew about herself.
And then it was over. The maelstrom fading to swirls of foggy memory. Her body throbbed with the aftershocks as she slowly, slowly sank back into reality and the sobs that shook her. When she opened her eyes, Clint was staring down at her with that peculiar intensity that had her hunching uncomfortably.
And she immediately winced. He was still in her. As hard and as big as ever. Bigger than she remembered. She gave a tentative squeeze with her inner muscles. She had to abort the attempt. She was stretched so tightly around him that there wasn’t any room to move.
Clint shifted in her, around her, as he leaned down and kissed her lips. “Wildcat.”
There was a wealth of satisfaction in his whisper.
She closed her eyes and groaned as she remembered just how wild she had been. Had she really bitten him? She peeked through her lashes. There, on his left shoulder were two half crescent marks.
She touched them very gently as tears continued to well. “I’m so ashamed.”
His teeth flashed white as her caught a tear on his finger. “It’ll only be a shame if you never do it again.”
She sniffed back another tear. “You liked it?”
“Having you go wild in my arms? Scream my name as you practically squeezed my cock off with your pleasure?” He wiped at a second tear. “Yes. I liked it.”
“But I didn’t satisfy you.” Oh God, now she was thoroughly pathetic.
He stopped wiping at her tears. For a second he stared at her uncomprehendingly. Then he smiled a totally real, totally natural smile, one that took years off his face and made her forget how dangerous he could be.
“Sunshine, I came so hard my heart almost stopped.” He nestled his cock a little deeper. “I’m just warming up for round two.”
Round two? She was still discovering aches from round one. Maybe she wasn’t woman enough for him. The thought sent another of those senseless tears spilling.
“Ah, you’ve just got to cry, don’t you?” Clint asked, licking the tears from her cheeks, kissing her eyelids between drops.
She shook her head, changed her mind, nodded, and finally admitted, “I don’t know why!”
He did. Jenna came like a woman who’d never known a moment’s peace. She came like a woman who’d been looking her whole life for a chance to let go. “I’ll get used to it.”
Or go nuts from the need to stop them.
Clint worked his cock deeper into her snug pussy. “Son of a bitch, you’re tight, Sunshine.”
“I’m sorry.”
He rubbed her nose with his. Marveling at her foolishness. “Jenna love, there’s nothing to be sorry for. As long as it doesn’t hurt you, tight is good. As for the tears, you can cry all over me all you want as long as they’re happy tears.” He wiped at a tear track with his thumb as he pulled out until her cunt clutched at just the tip of his cock. “And these are happy tears, right?”
Her cheeks turned a deeper red, but she gave him the truth. “Yes.”
“Good.”
He kissed her soft lips, taking her gasp into his mouth as he surged into her, letting it mingle with his breath before he exhaled, holding her to him as he wedged deeper, accepting the truth. She was hot, tight and completely his.
She winced again. He was definitely more than she was used to.
He brushed a kiss over her eyelids. “I know you’re sore baby, so we’ll just take this nice and easy.”
Her nails bit into his forearm as he pulled back. Her brow pleated as he eased back into her beckoning heat, her eyes darkening with an emotion he couldn’t define.
“Too much?”
She bit her lip and shook her head.
He didn’t trust her. It would be just like her to take pain to make him happy. “You’re sure?”
She nodded. He reached between them and sifted through the wet tangle of her curls until he touched the stretched point of their joining. Damn! He had to be hurting her.
He swore and pulled out.
Her knees came up around his hips. Her “Oh no” was a moan of pure feminine distress. He paused and reassessed. Her agony was of a woman denied, not of one used too hard. Her fingers clutched at his arms and her hips lifted desperately toward his cock. Half-smothered whimpers broke from her throat. She wanted him. Needed him. His heart swelled with the knowledge.
“Shh, baby. I’ll give it back.” He did, moaning himself as her silken walls clasped and dragged at his cock as he slid in.
“Better?” He could barely get the word out.
Her nod was enthusiastic but that full lower lip, the one he wanted to sink his teeth into, was still tucked into her teeth.
He found the strength to stop. “Does it hurt, Jenna?”
“Oh God,” she moaned. “Don’t stop.”
“Am I hurting you, baby?”
“A little, but I don’t care. You feel so good.” Her back arched and her ankles hooked around his hips in the mistaken belief that her feminine muscles were going to win a war against his masculine ones.
He curved his spine so he could nibble on her shoulder, while he withheld what they both wanted. “How good?”
“So good…”
“So good what?”
She opened her eyes and glared at him while her heels drummed at his back. “So good I’ll scream if you don’t give me what I want.”
He pretended to consider it. “Not much of an incentive as you’ll do that anyway. What else you got?”
She was so naive that she didn’t catch the growl in his throat that indicated how close he was to losing control. And so new to teasing, taking the game that far threw her into a quandary of uncertainty. For the longest moment, she lay under him, clearly debating what she had, and damned her hide, she must have come up empty, because she went soft and complacent, and son of a bitch, that might just be an unhappy tear forming in her eye. Her mouth opened. He forestalled the “nothing” he knew was coming out by simply filling in the blanks for her.
“I suppose you could offer up those gorgeous breasts of yours. That for sure would inspire me.”
She stared at him, uncertain. He touched the end of her nose, tenderness mixing with passion in a potent combination. “Or you could smile. Those dimples of yours get me hotter than a stallion in mating season.”
He counted three breaths before she dropped her hands from his shoulders and slowly, so slowly that sweat broke out on his brow, cupped her palms under her breasts. Her hands were way too small to do an adequate job with such largess, but when she stroked them to the tips and pushed those full mounds together, holding them up and out for him, he damned near came on the spot like a green boy. As he watched, her tongue smoothed over her lips, until they shone wet and pink as she smiled, bringing her dimples into play.
Lust hit him like a stampede, trampling all his good intentions, all his play.
“Now you did it, Sunshine. One I could have managed, but hitting me with both…” He shook his head and propped himself on his hands so that they were only joined at the hips. Cock to pussy. Male to female. Husband to wife. He shook his hair back out of his eyes. “Now I’m afraid you’re in for it.”
She didn’t look scared, just the opposite. She looked femininely eager, hungry. The way he’d dreamed she’d look at him. The rightness of her in his arms, his bed, hit him like a sledgehammer.
“Son of a bitch, you’re something, Jenna.”
“I could say the same.”
Her hands stroked his chest, lingering on the scar while her ankles hooked behind his back. The breathy catch to her speech hooked in his desire, dragged his lust past his control, sent his hips down into hers, his cock spearing deep. Her head fell back. Any doubts he had about her enjoyment were dispelled by her long, moaning “Yesssss!”
It was all over for him then. The bits of civilized restraint that he clung to blew away before the force of his passion. He drove into her over and over again
, lunging deeper with every thrust, making a place for himself inside her body, her life. A place where he didn’t have to think, where he could just be.
She groaned with every thrust and threw her hips up to meet him, taking what he had to give. Taking the pleasure, the desire, and in return, she gave him calm, her soft arms circling his neck when the climax hit him, anchoring him through the violence of his body’s eruption, stroking him in the aftermath, her tears bathing his cheek as he found peace.
Chapter Twelve
“Button’s not going anywhere, Jenna,” Clint said, clucking his tongue as he backed the gelding into the traces of the small buggy.
Jenna stilled her fidgeting and folded her hands in the drape of her cloak.
“I know.” It was her deepest fear. That Cougar and Mara would keep Brianna. Or worse, that Brianna would be so settled it would be impossible to take her away. “I’m just anxious.”
Clint tossed a handful of hay onto the ground in front of the horse and then turned to face her. The brim of his hat shadowed his eyes, keeping her from determining his mood. “Anxious about what?”
“Just in general.” He tilted his head to the side, studying her. Without the benefit of a hat like his, and with her hood down she had no defense against his perusal. She waved to the horse. “Shouldn’t you be getting him harnessed before he eats all that hay?”
Clint pulled another handful of hay out of the bale and tossed it on the ground with the rest and grabbed the dangling strap under the black’s belly. As he started pulling it tight, he glanced over his shoulder.
“You know, Sunshine, a lesser man might be discouraged to see his wife was in such a hurry to bring the honeymoon to an end.”
“I’m glad you’re not a lesser man.”
Because a lesser man would be right. She did want the honeymoon over and considered it a blessing that her woman’s time had made its infrequent appearance this morning. Clint was not a cruel man, but he was a very demanding man. He took everything she offered, accepting whatever she gave, never saying when it was enough. He made her so nervous that way. She didn’t know what he wanted of her and maybe if Brianna was here, he’d be too distracted to notice she didn’t have a clue.
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