Promises Prevail

by Sarah McCarty

  He stood at the foot of the bed, two hands on the edge of the mattress, one knee firmly planted to the right of her foot. He leaned toward her. His long black hair swung forward, giving his already handsome face a primitive cast as he looked up at her from under his brows. Laughter and lust shimmered about him in a seductive combination. His shoulder muscles flexed in an intimidating display of power as he rested his hands on the mattress on either side of her knees.

  “Tell me again, Sunshine.”

  She propped herself up on her elbows and crept back. He placed his knee on the hem of her nightgown, holding her there as he put his other knee on the bed, looming over her—dark and threatening.

  “Tell me,” he ordered, his drawl as intent as his expression. Holding her gaze, he lowered his head, smiling slightly as he nipped her thigh just at her knee. It didn’t hurt, but caused all sorts of alarming sensations to streak through her. She swallowed hard and tugged at the edge of her gown while keeping one hand firmly clamped on the bodice. He smiled a purely predatory smile and continued to advance.

  Fear fought with a foreign skitter of excitement as the mattress dipped by her hip and his head lowered again, this time letting her feel his teeth high on the inside of her thigh.

  “Let go of the gown, Sunshine.” She stopped tugging at the hem. She felt his smile against her thigh, a brief relief from the pressure and then his teeth touched just to the inside of her hipbone. “Let go with the other hand.”

  She did, reluctantly. As if he sensed that she didn’t know what to do with her hands when they weren’t protecting her modesty, he drawled, “Put them over your head.”

  She did, instinctively putting one inside the other. He moved again, enfolding her wrists in his hand, pinning her arms to the mattress.

  He held her captive, his big body trapping hers, his dark gaze holding hers. He was above her. Around her. Every breath she took drew his familiar smoky scent into her lungs, binding them further together until there wasn’t any distance between them. Emotional or physical. She was his. In the eyes of God. In the eyes of the law. In the depths of her soul.

  “Clint?” She wasn’t surprised when he ignored the quavery question, but when he dipped his head and nuzzled aside the lapels of her nightgown, she found her voice. “What are you doing?”

  “Clearing the way.” The sin they preached against in church wasn’t as wicked as his expression.

  “We agreed—”

  “I agreed that I wouldn’t make love to you if you didn’t want it during your woman’s time,” he finished for her.

  “Than what are you doing?”

  He kissed the valley between her breasts. His lips were firm and dry, his breath moist, his evening whiskers a delicious rasp on the inside of her breasts. Her nipples drew taut as he used his chin to fully expose her left breast.

  “Making you want it.”

  She should have seen that coming, but the man addled her brain to the point of no return. She closed her eyes against the rampage of sensation swarming over her. She was the slut her father accused her of being. And she was beginning not to care.

  Moist heat engulfed her nipple, followed by a gentle suction. Tiny trickles of pleasure wove out through her torso pulling invisible wires of need taut. She squirmed and pushed up. Clint’s deep chuckle buffeted her sensitive nipple with deep throbs of pleasure. He rubbed the rough base of his chin over her nipple, using his beard to lightly abrade her sensitive tip. Each short pass made her gasp at the fire that streaked straight to her womb.

  “Tell me again, Sunshine.”

  “Tell you what?” She arched into his mouth needing more. She couldn’t remember anything beyond the ache in her nipple and the anticipation of his mouth.

  “Tell me again what a nice man I am.” He nipped her with his lips. Sparks flashed behind her eyelids as he did it again, not giving her time to react, demanding a response from her, laughing when she cried out, sucking harder when she pushed up. He released her breast with a soft pop. Cool air washed over her damp skin, making her shiver.

  “You’re going to have to be quiet, Sunshine.”

  “What?” The next brush if his chin had her crying out again. She couldn’t catch a full breath. Her nipple ached. Her pussy throbbed. His lips came down on hers just in time to catch her moan.

  “We don’t want to wake Button,” he whispered against her lips.

  No. She didn’t want to do that. She didn’t want anything to interfere with this. Clint made her feel so wild, and yet somehow, so incredibly safe. As though there was nothing she could do or say that he would hold against her. As though she could trust him.

  His lips parted hers. His breath mingled with hers a heartbeat before he slid his tongue into her mouth, his taste flooding her senses. He tasted clean, this man who’d pulled her from the flames, away from the death that had looked so enticing, and made her live. This man who could make her feel when she was numb, live when she wanted to die, and hope when common sense said to give up. He tasted of power and fantasy and she couldn’t resist.

  She touched his tongue with hers. He moaned and levered himself over her. The scars on his chest teased her swollen nipples. His hand tightened on her wrists and he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving deep. Demanding. Receiving. She gave him everything that he asked for, matching him thrust for thrust, stroke for stroke.

  He broke the kiss. Her gasping breath was loud in the room. She closed her eyes. The kiss he pressed to the corner of her mouth was incredibly gentle, in sharp contrast to the violent passion she could feel humming beneath his skin.

  “Tell me, Jenna.” The nip he placed under her chin was not as tender as the others. Some of that tension in him was anger, she realized. She tugged on her hands. He let her go. She gave him what he wanted.

  “You’re a nice man, Clint McKinnely.” The tension surged in his body again and that cold look broke over his face. She cupped his cheeks in her hands, smoothing the tension in his jaw with her thumbs. “I know you’ve told me not to see you as nice, but I can’t help it. You’re nice to me, to Brianna, and you make me feel like I’ve never felt before.”

  “How’s that?” He turned his mouth into her palm and tickled the center with his tongue.

  “Special.” She skirted his gaze.

  “You are special, Sunshine.” Speaking softly so that each word breathed new life into her soul, he found her mouth with his, mating their lips in the way with which she was becoming familiar, “Only to you.” Tears welled.

  “To anyone with half a brain,” he growled deep in his throat.

  “Why can’t I feel the same way about you?”

  “Because it’s not the same.”

  “You keep saying I’m yours.”

  “You are.”

  “Then that makes you mine, too.” It was the boldest statement she’d ever made. Women just didn’t contradict men, let alone lay claim to them. She closed her eyes against her own temerity. Clint’s teeth tested the pad of her thumb in a sharp nip. She kept her eyes closed.

  “Look at me, baby.”

  “Are you mad again?” She wasn’t going to open her eyes if he was mad.

  “No.” His hair slid over her cheeks on a smooth caress as he pressed his forehead to hers.

  She cracked her eyes and checked. He didn’t look mad, just fierce and…amused.

  “Maybe if you were mean to me I could see you differently,” she suggested, wrapping her arms around his neck. He touched her cheek with his finger. He was so gentle with her.

  “I’ll work on it.”

  “And I’ll work on thinking less of you.” She pulled him down to her. He buried his face in the curve of her neck. His shoulders shook under her hands.

  “Sunshine, you are something.” The amusement in his voice soothed her worry.

  “I’m glad you think so.” And she was. More than glad. She opened her palms on his back, enjoying the flex of muscle beneath her hands as he kissed his way down her chest until he got to her b
reasts. There he lingered, running his lips over every inch, lifting her breasts so he could kiss the underside. Shards of fire shot out from everywhere his mouth touched. Her nails dug into his back. Her gasp as he curled his tongue around her nipple drew another laugh from his lips.

  “Want that again?”

  She nodded. He gave it to her and then some, pushing her breasts together, drawing her nipples into his mouth, sucking them gently and then harder and harder with drawing motions of his mouth, keeping pace with the clenching of her fingers. When she whimpered, he lashed them with his tongue until she writhed on the bed.

  She felt bereft when he drew back, withdrawing his heat but not his passion. That simmered between them, arcing across the distance. She clung to his shoulders as he stood. He stared at her, a smile ghosting his lips as he towered above her. She moved to draw the comforter over her. He shook his head.

  “Let me look at you.”

  She did, feeling foolish lying there with her hands reaching for him and her body clamoring for his attention. He stared for so long that she couldn’t bear it. She needed to move, to do something. She remembered what he’d asked her before. As his hands went to his waistband, hers went to her breasts.

  At first she just held them, but when he swore and his hands froze on his fly, power rushed through her. She might be a mere woman, no match for Clint in muscle, but she had some control here. She ran her fingertips up and down her breasts, tracing patterns on the smooth surface. The darts of pleasure caught her by surprise. She hadn’t expected that, biting her lip as tingles shot out from her hands, experimenting with what felt good.

  “Son of a bitch, Jenna. You’re going to make me come.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” she asked, some demon possessing her voice and drawing the words past her caution.

  “Not a goddamned thing.” His mouth thinned to a straight line. Desire chiseled his features. He shoved his pants down. They caught on the swell of his cock and he swore again, drawing his cock out before kicking them aside. “Hold those pretty breasts up for me, Sunshine.”

  She did.

  “Higher,” he ordered in a deep voice as he pumped his cock through his fist. She couldn’t take her eyes off of the head of his cock as it appeared and disappeared in his fist. The head was broad and fat, dark with desire and dripping with moisture. For her. She lifted her breasts as high as she could so that they pulled at her ribs. Clint nodded.

  “Now push them together.” She did, following his gaze, seeing what he saw. The large mounds of her breasts rose high, almost to her chin, the cleavage between them looking deep and somehow erotically inviting. “Offer them to me, Sunshine.”

  She opened her fingers, resting her breasts on her palms, holding them out in an open invitation. A muscle in his cheek jerked. A quick glance down revealed another bead of seed glistening on the head of his cock. She licked her lips, remembering his flavor, the way he’d shaken against her as he’d come.

  “Do you want it?” Clint asked, his dark fingers framing the pearly drop. A glance at his face and she knew what her answer would be.

  “Yes.”

  “How much?”

  She answered with the truth. “I want to pleasure you.”

  “You do that just by breathing.” He smiled.

  “The way you want,” she elaborated. He paused, and uncertainty flooded her confidence. “Please.”

  “Shhh!” His hand cupped her cheek, instantly soothing her. “Keep your hands on your breasts and don’t panic.”

  She bit her lip before blurting out, “I’m never sure what to do.”

  “You’re seducing me beautifully.”

  “I am?” She couldn’t call his smile gentle, but his, “Yes” was infinitely so.

  “Without taking your hands off your breasts, scoot over here to the side of the bed.” It was awkward and she felt foolish, but by the time her hip hit the edge of the mattress, his smile was gone and the hard planes of his face settled into harsh lines of passion. A quick glance showed his cock was steadily leaking pre-come. He leaned forward, bringing his cock closer and closer until the head of it touched the tip of her breast, bathing the turgid nipple in silky wet heat.

  “Lick it off.” Keeping her gaze locked with his passionate one, she tilted her breast and lowered her mouth. As her lips parted he whispered, “Slowly, baby. Nice and slow.”

  She followed his orders to the letter, holding his gaze as she swirled her tongue around the pebbled nipple, lapping delicately at the pink flesh, shivering as his eyes flared and his grip spasmed on his cock. When she couldn’t find another drop of salty fluid, she leaned back. He leaned in, treating her other nipple to the same bath. He didn’t have to tell her what to do. She knew what he wanted and loved giving it to him. Every catch in his breath, every flicker of his eyes spiked her own passion until the glide of her own tongue over her flesh began to feel like his.

  The bed dipped as he knelt on it. She rolled into his thigh, reaching for that beautiful cock. He caught her hand and brought it to his mouth. “Not yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t want to come yet.”

  “You’re that close?” She couldn’t believe the conversations she got into with him.

  “You have that effect on me.” His smiled—a tight, strained twist of his lips. In contrast, her smile came easily. She turned and kissed the inside of his thigh while holding his gaze.

  “I like that.”

  The mattress dipped as his hands came down by her shoulders.

  “Are you gloating woman?” he asked as he straddled her torso. She bit her lip as his heavy cock dragged across her stomach, setting her belly to quivering.

  “Yes.”

  He laughed as he sat back on his heels, the thick length of his cock lying like a vertical brand across her ribs, the head resting in the valley between her breasts. His hands brushed hers from her breasts.

  “I’ll take over here.” She closed her eyes as the rough warmth of his strong hands enveloped her breasts. She just loved the way he touched her. All that strength blanketed with gentleness. He squeezed and her breath caught. Fear mixed with passion as the pressure increased.

  “Open your eyes, baby.” She did, automatically falling into the order, only to fall into his passion as he shook his head at her. “Who’s touching you?”

  “You are,” she whispered as he continued to squeeze and release, each time just a little harder than the previous.

  “And who am I?”

  “Clint.”

  “Then why are you afraid?”

  “I’m not—”

  “I can see and feel your tension.” He shook his head again, drawing her breasts up as he squeezed. She didn’t have an answer that he wanted to hear. “Did Jack hurt you this way?”

  She nodded. She bit her lip as his fingers slid up to her nipples. How could one man’s hands feel so good when another’s had felt like a violation?

  Clint had figured as much from the way she lay so tense under his hands. Breathlessly excited while nervously expectant. Clint pinched Jenna’s nipples lightly. They immediately drew tight. Her stomach muscles jerked under his cock, massaging his balls as she quivered beneath him. Her breasts were incredibly sensitive. The lightest of tugs had her body jerking.

  “I’m not Jack.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  She nodded.

  “But I am going to make you come.”

  Her eyes flew wide, and she blinked.

  “Is that okay with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Then go over behind the screen and prepare yourself for me.”

  She blushed fiery red as soon as she understood his meaning, but she did as told, returning to the bed with her head down and her hair shielding her face. As soon as she got close enough, he hooked his hand behind her neck, pulled her to him, and kissed her hard before helping her back up on the bed.

  “Lie down now.”<
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  Impossibly, her face got redder. He laughed, knelt on the bed, and rearranged them until her buttocks rested on his thighs and the length of his cock snuggled into the hot, wet folds of her pussy. She blinked again, that plump lower lip sliding between her teeth, her expression one of doubtful expectation.

  “We’ll make a mess,” she whispered.

  “That’s what the towel is for,” he whispered back, leaning forward until the hard points of her nipples snuggled into his chest the way his cock nestled deeper into the embrace of her pussy. As she gasped and arched under him, he pulled her lip free of her teeth and into his mouth.

  He sucked it lightly, wanting to smile when her eyes flew wide and she jerked back the way she always did. He held on, not letting her pull back from him or the pleasure she felt, working his palm behind her head, tilting it back, releasing her lip long enough to murmur, “Don’t fight it, Jenna. Let me make you feel good.”

  Her eyes closed. She was running from him again.

  “Open your eyes.”

  She did, reluctantly, all the conflict she felt inside revealed as her lids lifted.

  She was so open and so vulnerable. She filled him with the need to give her the world, while at the same time wanting to shelter her from it. He probed the corner of her mouth with his tongue. Against the base of his cock, her pussy clenched.

  “You liked that.” She nodded, a sheen of tears in her eyes.

  “Why the tears baby?” He caught one at the corner with his thumb before it could spill over.

  “You make me feel so much.”

  “I just want you to be happy.”

  “It scares me.”

  “Why?” He cupped her breast in his hand, giving her the pressure he knew she enjoyed.

  “You want everything.”

  “Yes.” He did. He stroked his thumb over her pert nipple. She lurched against him, her pussy riding his cock hard. She jerked again. Her nails dug into his thighs as he speared his cock up through its warm nest. He wanted her defenseless before him. He wanted her trust, her innocence, her hope, her passion. He wanted everything. Every nuance of who she was.

  “You make me feel too much,” she gasped.