by Devyn Quinn
As she’d gotten older, she’d gotten tired of getting nothing out of sex. It was easier to cut off her emotions and access to her body, rather than endure a man panting over her. Being alone and on her own was easier, less complicated.
Jesse Clawfoot had tumbled her right back into that pit of complication and confusion. Except this time, instead of being sickened by the touch of a man, she found herself eagerly yearning for his touch, for the passion he ignited deep inside her soul. She hungered for the feel of his mouth on hers, hungered for the feel of his hard, turgid shaft sliding into, pummeling her ravenous sex.
For the first time in a long time, Dakoda Jenkins was going to let herself go wild.
Jesse gave her another slow kiss. “Let’s find out just how wet you are.” Sucking in a hiss between his teeth, he skimmed his fingers in the waistband of her khaki slacks. “I love the way these fit around your hips,” he said, unsnapping the top button under her navel. “They hug every curve of your ass.”
Her zipper crunched down, the sound barely heard above the roll of thunder and patter of hard rain striking the plane. She started to move away from the bales, help him push down her slacks, when he stopped her.
“Just lean back,” he murmured in her ear.
“What are you going to do?” she breathed, lungs heavy with anticipation.
“Something like this.” A seeking male mouth descended on one tented nipple.
Dakoda gasped, then moaned as his tongue circled the hard little peak, scraping against sensitive inner nerves with each velvety tug of his mouth.
Her fingers tangled in his thick black hair. “Oh, Jesse,” she moaned. “That feels…” The words disappeared, overtaken by yet another series of moans. She had barely had time to think about what he was doing, when he added another sensation to the mix. The parts of her brain governing rational thought dissipated under a wave of carnal appetite.
Still suckling at her breasts, he slipped one hand into her slacks, working his fingers under the elastic band of her panties. Thick fingers found her aching clit, rubbing gently against the small hooded organ.
Dakoda instinctively rolled her hips against his massaging fingers. Using his other hand to brace his body above hers, Jesse moved from one eager nipple to the next, suckling the sensitive tips.
As delightful as it was, though, she wasn’t hot enough. Craving the feel of his cock sliding into her honeyed depths, she lifted his head away from her breasts.
“Take me,” she grated, one hand pushing eagerly at the impediment of clothing around her hips. “I’m so damn hot I can’t stand it.”
Fingers still caressing her clit, Jesse looked down at her. Flashes of lighting illuminating the plane’s shattered cockpit reflected the desire burning in his intense gaze.
“Not yet,” he protested hoarsely. He deliberately slipped a finger through her dewy labia, stabbing into her depth. “I still haven’t had my dessert.”
“Eat the freaking worm,” she grated.
He laughed, his voice a little hoarse from the strain of holding himself in check. His erection pulsed against her hip, hard and hot as a branding iron. “Oh, I’m going to eat, all right,” he teased. He slid his finger a little deeper, then slowly withdrew it. “All I want.”
“Damn you,” she bit off.
Planting a series of warm kisses over her abdomen, Jesse eased to his knees. He tugged her slacks and panties down her hips, easing her feet out of the pile.
Catching one leg behind the knee, he lifted it over her shoulder. “That’s much nicer.” His voice held an edge of carnal intent.
Draped over the bales, Dakoda gasped out a strangled giggle. “I can’t believe I’m having sex in a wrecked plane on an illegal shipment of weed.” She giggled again, something entirely out of character. She never giggled. The tequila had certainly loosened her inhibitions. “It doesn’t get any better than this.”
Jesse planted a small kiss above her Venus mound. “Oh, it’s about to get better,” he promised. “A lot better.” Tilting up her hips, he spread her wide. There was no part of her he couldn’t see or touch as he wished. She was totally, wholly exposed.
“See anything interesting?” she asked, feigning indifference.
“I see the sweetest pussy a man could ever have the pleasure of laying eyes on.” He dragged in a deep breath. “God, I love the scent of you. You don’t smell like other women.”
Dakoda propped herself up on her elbows. “What do I smell like?” she asked softly.
Jesse’s throat tightened as he swallowed. “Like everything that’s pure, wonderful, and fresh…” His head dipped. His mouth circled her clit, his tongue gently probing the little nub packed with billions of sensitive nerve endings.
Feeling the invasion of his mouth on her most sensitive center, Dakoda arched her back against the bales. Her thoughts suddenly went sideways, tumbling like a stack of cards caught in a high wind. Releasing a growl of hunger, Jesse began to nibble her softest spots, licking and sucking at her labia. As he suckled and teased, one hand slipped up to find a full breast. While his mouth encircled her clit, his fingers pulled and rolled her hard nipple.
Lungs losing oxygen, Dakoda gasped as the first climax roared through her. She shuddered, delight zipping through her like a rocket blasting into outer space. Propelled by the incredible release of intense tension, searing pleasure sped through her body.
She collapsed back against the bales, limp and shuddering in the aftermath of climax.
She didn’t have time to think as Jesse slipped his arms under her body, dragging her down to the floor. The silky material of the parachute caressed her bare skin.
Supporting his weight on his elbows, Jesse stretched out on her. His hips settled snugly against hers, his erection resting against her belly. “I love watching you come.” He brushed a spicy kiss against her mouth, giving her a taste of her own musky cream as he fingered the tip of one sensitive nipple.
Pleasantly relaxed, Dakoda’s hands slipped around his body; his skin was so familiar under her touch. “I want some more,” she breathed, grinning. “I’m still hungry.”
Jesse lifted his hips, pressing the tip of his shaft against her slit. Resisting the impulse to take her with a single hard stab, he eased the thick crown of his penis inside, just enough for her to feel the penetration.
Gritting her teeth, Dakoda’s palms slid to his ass. Her fingers curved, nails digging into his sun-burnished skin. The last thing she wanted for him to do was control himself, restrain his natural inclinations. She wanted him to enjoy himself as much as she had.
And more.
She started to stroke him, seeking out the place where a man would feel the most pleasure. He moaned, his buttocks tightening as her fingers stroked his tight anus. “Jesse,” she pleaded, lifting her hips to take him a little deeper. “Don’t hold back.”
Giving in to her plea, he slid a little deeper, acting with relentless control. His expression was tight. “I don’t want to come too fast,” he gritted. “You’re so damn tight I can feel every ripple around me.”
Breath catching in anticipation, Dakoda lifted one leg, giving him a tap of the rear with her foot. “It’s your turn,” she murmured, giving his ear a little nibble. “Get on and ride, cowboy.”
Jesse took her at her word. “Here goes,” he warned, gaze smoldering with hunger. The leash holding his desire in check snapped, allowing his body the freedom to act as it wished. The muscles in his neck and shoulders strained, as taut and tight as rope. Giving a quick thrust, he impaled her. His hot shaft pulsed inside her, stretching and filling every last inch of her sex.
Mouth crushing down on hers, he began to pump. His hips collided against hers. His thickly veined erection pulled out of her in an endless, wet slide, only to spear back in again a second later. His body was all sinew and muscle, working in a synchronicity that bordered on perfection.
Insides boiling with need, Dakoda tangled her fingers through his thick hair, drinking in his taste,
his scent, the sheer delicious glory of him. His tongue thrust deeply into her mouth, even as his cock stabbed into her again and again.
She shivered, electric with intense arousal. Driven by desire, her fingers dug deep trenches across the concrete slabs of his back. Climax rose like the storm troopers of an enemy army gathering on the horizon. Her pulse throbbed at her temples with every beat of her heart, deafening her with the rush of blood through her veins.
Cursing under his breath, Jesse reared up long enough to catch her wrists, pinning her arms down.
“Watch them claws, you vicious little hellcat!” He held her down with absolute control, even as his hips ground against hers with grueling force. Primitive lust vibrated beneath the surface of his sweat-slick skin, his alpha dominance over his female assured. His shift into an animalistic authority over her made the moment exquisite.
Perfect.
Dakoda writhed beneath his weight. Had it been any other man but Jesse, she would have fought his attempts to restrain her. The steely hardness of his cock kept her hips pinned against the floor as surely as his hands did her wrists. It was excruciatingly delicious to feel his strength overtake and then overcome hers. The wind outside rocked the plane, matching the intense rhythm of their bodies.
Jesse was sweating and shaking, fighting not to come. He was going to hold off until the last possible second, make her take every punishing stroke he could deliver, and then some.
The sensations coiling inside her aching sex were erotic and mesmerizing at the same time. Every thrust Jesse delivered grew in intensity, pushing, filling her with the heat generated by the friction of two bodies in lust.
Giving one final, mighty thrust, Jesse surrendered his control, slipping over the edge. Throwing back his head, he released a great, earsplitting bellow, almost like that of a great cat roaring out its pleasure. His cock surged, blasting a flood of hot semen straight into her womb.
Perceptions splintering into a billion shards, Dakoda came with quick, powerless, excruciating need. Her orgasm went off like an atom bomb in the desert, tearing through her with the force of absolute destruction. Shredded down to the last molecule by the sheer intensity of pleasure, she could do little but lay beneath his slick weight as tremor after tremor coursed through her.
They shuddered in the aftermath. Jesse’s face was buried in the crook between her shoulder and neck. His breath warmed her skin, chilled now in the aftermath of intense physical activity. The tangle of his thick hair webbed his features, spilling like a glittering black waterfall over his shoulders and back.
Dakoda shifted under his body, relieving some of the pressure of his weight. Pressed chest to chest, she felt the steady rhythm of his heart as she watched the rise and fall of his breath.
He continued to pant in short, quick breaths. “Should I move?” he mumbled sleepily against her skin.
“No,” she murmured. “Stay.”
Tightening her arms around him, Dakoda drew in a deep breath. A strange, unfamiliar ache filled her. Emotion crept through her mind, reviving the sentiments she’d long ago dug a hole for and buried. It was time to take a chance. Really open her heart and let a man into her life.
Jesse Clawfoot was that man. His scent was on her, marking her as his. At last, after a lifetime of searching, she’d found her place in this world.
She closed her eyes, a new sense of contentment filling a void in her heart. She sighed, surrendering to the tug of exhaustion beckoning her toward the realm of dreamless sleep.
I could seriously fall for this man, was her last pleasant, hazy thought.
17
There was something more than a little frightening about being lost in the middle of nowhere, not knowing which way to go or what danger the next hour might hold.
After two long days spent hiking due north, Dakoda was beginning to suspect what she hadn’t dared say aloud: They were lost. Not that it mattered much. With her ankle still giving her fits and twinges, they hadn’t managed to get very far very fast. They also didn’t seem to be any closer to a territory she or Jesse recognized. Every damn tree, rock, and bush looked the same as the last.
Exhaustion nipping at her heels, Dakoda finally did what she’d been aching to do for hours. She collapsed.
“That’s it,” she huffed, trying to catch her breath as she lowered herself onto a half-rotted log. She felt rotten in just about every way a person could feel rotten, and then some. “I can’t take another step. I am officially given out.”
Jesse took her not-so-subtle hint, dropping in his tracks and stretching out on the cool ground. “I have to admit I’m ready for a rest, too,” he huffed. “I’ve never been so damn tired in my life.”
Untying the laces of her boot, Dakoda slipped her foot out of the lead weight with glacial slowness. Still wrapped in its elastic bandage, her ankle was holding her upright, but just barely. She really needed a day or two off her feet, but that luxury just wasn’t an option. Her feet felt like they’d fallen off miles ago, leaving nothing but little stumps at the end of her legs.
Though she’d been in reasonable physical shape at the beginning of this unwelcome adventure, she’d soon realized her idea of athletic and the mountain terrain’s idea of athletic were two different things. Muscles she didn’t even know she had ached, throbbing with the heat of intense exertion.
She looked around for a sign of something, anything, remotely familiar. Nothing came into immediate view. “Any idea where we’re at?” This deep in the mountains, most of the region was prime and virgin, untouched by any outside development. Untouched also meant most of it was unmapped and unexplored. If both of them were to drop dead of starvation, chances were their bodies would never be recovered.
Jesse sat up, shaking his head. “I’d like to say we’re on reservation land now, but I haven’t seen any of the markers indicating the territory we’re in. Could be we’ve passed them by. If so, we won’t be alone much longer. We keep the boundaries pretty well patrolled.”
“How many acres of land did you say belonged to the Tlvdatsi?” she asked.
He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “About eighty-five hundred,” he said. “A little over thirteen square miles. That isn’t a lot, even when traveling on foot.”
“If we’re even on your people’s land,” she pointed out. “You were outside Tlvdatsi territory, on state park land as near as I can figure. That’s eighteen thousand acres right there.”
The South Mountains were the highest and most rugged chain of the isolated mountain ranges making up North Carolina’s Piedmont region. Erosion from numerous rivers and streams had given the heavily forested mountains a series of narrow ridges and valleys. The mountains stretched out over a hundred thousand acres or so, and were still sparsely populated. The possibility of running into another human being was about as likely as locating a needle in a haystack. No one knew they were out here but the poachers—and those were the people they most definitely didn’t want to encounter a second time.
“So you think we’re still on state land?” Jesse asked.
She shook her head. “It took almost the entire day for the Barnett boys to get us to their place, which I’m going to say is part of privately held land. It wouldn’t be hard for them to have a sliver to themselves. Most of the South Mountains remain in the hands of private owners.”
He gave a small embarrassed smile. “So in other words, you don’t think I know where I’m going?”
She had to ask point blank. “Do you?”
“Sometimes I think I do,” he admitted. “Then other times I’m not so sure.”
Dakoda massaged her toes, which looked as thick and plump as grapes. Too bad they weren’t edible. Food was the only thing she thought about, day and night and every second in between. “Guess there’s nothing your inner cougar can tell you about directions,” she commented dryly.
Jesse considered. “While it’s true the cougar could move a heck of a lot faster than the slow Indian on foot, the brain side o
f that cougar is still the same. If Jesse’s lost, the cougar’s lost.”
Well, at least he was honest. Most men wouldn’t admit they didn’t know up from down under the threat of death.
“Some wild beast you are,” she snorted. “Here I’ve been thinking you had some inborn animal instincts and it turns out that you’re just useless.”
He shrugged and laughed. “That’s me.”
Dakoda took off her other boot. “I don’t know if I can go any more today. I passed famished hours ago and now I’m just plain ravenous. If I don’t get some real food in me, I’m going to faint. Seriously. You won’t be picking me up off the ground the next time I go down.”
Smile vanishing, Jesse’s face took on a serious cast. “I’ve got to admit wild berries and roots aren’t doing it for me, either.” He tugged at the waistband of the stolen jeans. “Couple of days ago these were so tight I couldn’t breathe. Too bad Rusty didn’t pack his pockets with more meal bars. I could use a dozen or two right now.”
Dakoda agreed. “Bad as they tasted, they were better than nothing.” She eyed his lanky frame. It didn’t take a lot of looking to see his lean frame had thinned a bit. When he’d first taken the jeans, they’d hugged his firm ass and muscular legs like a second skin. Now they were looser, baggier. The amount of energy they were both exerting was peeling the weight off their bodies at a tremendous rate. Though there was plenty of fresh water to be found in the little rivers running through the mountains, finding something edible—and filling—was a little harder.
She glanced down. Her own clothes were getting baggy, too. Amazing how fast stress and a little starvation could take the extra pounds off. If a ten-course meal were to suddenly fall out of the sky, she doubted there’d be enough food to satisfy her. It felt like her stomach had already eaten a hole clear through to her spine.
“We have a gun,” she ventured quietly. “Maybe we should shoot something.”
“We could,” he agreed slowly. “Are you any kind of a shot?”