Slowly, he moves it into me and I groan with the feeling. My body remembers him and stretches to conform to him again. I feel the heat as the delicate tissues move to accommodate his massive organ and I can’t stop groaning.
Once he’s all the way in up to the hilt, he pulls his mouth away from mine. “Is it all good, baby?”
“Better than good, Jude. Show me what I’ve been missing these last six weeks.”
He makes one long stroke and my stomach tightens. I trail my fingers over his back as he makes another and another then he leans back against me and kisses my neck, sending me into oblivion. I moan and arch up to meet his strokes that are getting faster and harder. My breasts are smashed between us and I feel a sudden wetness.
He doesn’t stop stroking me as he pulls his upper body back and looks down to see what the hell is going on. “You’re kind of leaking there, Mercy.”
“Oh, God!” I shout. “I’m sorry!”
He just laughs a little and leans back down on me and starts rubbing his body up and down mine as he continues his hard and fast strokes. “Don’t be. This feels awesome!”
It feels great to me. My tits are hard and tingling and so is my personal pleasure zone. And if he’s not grossed out by having my milk all over his chest then we have no problem here.
His movements get more frenzied as he lets out an animal-like growl as he goes faster and deeper. Then my body goes over the edge of the cliff and I’m shrieking with the orgasm he’s created inside of me.
My nails sink into the hot flesh of his back as I wrap my legs around him to hold him to me. He moves in and out of me faster and faster, then he goes stiff and I can feel the heat I love to feel so much as it fills me.
He leans on me and I haven’t felt that comfortable weight for what seems like forever. His mouth is hot on my neck as we breathe heavy and hard. “I love you, Mercy.”
“I love you, too. That was awesome. I missed you.”
He trails little kisses along my neck and over my cheek until he finds my lips. “I missed you too.” He rolls off me. “I’m squishing you.”
I roll to face him. “I like the way you squish me.” I kiss his lips again and love the way I feel all wet and hot and kind of sticky. “I think a shower is in order. I can’t believe I oozed milk all over us.”
His hand moves up and down my arm as he looks at me. “I think it’s cool.” Then he rolls away and gets up then comes around the side of the bed and grabs me up in his strong arms. “And now I’ll give you a nice long shower to get rid of the stickiness.”
I gaze at his handsome face as he carries me. A thing I was never sure he’d be able to do again. “I’m glad you hunted me down, Jude.”
“Me too,” he says then kisses me. “You’re the best trophy ever.”
I think he is!
Chapter 8
JUDE
“You see that footprint right there, Carter?” I ask him as we walk through the woods to our hunting blind.
“Coyote?” he asks.
“Good job, buddy. Do you have the new camera I bought you in that backpack full of snacks you brought with you?” I ask him as we start walking again.
“I sure do. I hope to add some new animals to my collection today. When do you think we’ll see one of those jack-a-lopes, Uncle Ram told me about?” he asks as he steps over a fallen tree.
“I’m afraid your uncle was kidding you about that. Those aren’t real,” I tell him as I chuckle.
“He showed me a picture,” the little six-year-old tells me as he looks at me from underneath his orange hunting cap.
“Some people put little deer horns on stuffed jack rabbits. That’s how he showed you a picture. I’m not about to start lying to you about anything, Carter. But your Uncle Ram’s just pulling your leg, son.”
“Well how about me and you get a picture of something and add some things to it and pull his leg right back?” he asks with a grin on his little face.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about. I saw a fish one time that had the bottom half of it covered in hair. That had to be a joke,” I say as we get to our hunting blind and I help him climb up to the long seat that’s up in a tall tree.
“I like it up here, Dad,” he says as he climbs up and gets all settled in.
I pull the safety bar up in front of us and settle in for our front-row seat to nature’s movie studio for the next few hours. “I like it up here too, Carter. My grandfather and I would sit up here almost every morning and every evening during hunting season when I was a kid.”
“Yeah, but you actually shot the animals with a gun, Dad.” He looks at me and shakes his head. “You said I can’t have a gun yet.”
“You’re a bit on the young and small side yet, son. Learn how to shoot them with a camera and later on when your old enough to make your own decision about actually shooting them then we’ll talk about getting you a gun and teaching you how to shoot. It might not be a thing you want to do.”
He nods and points to a squirrel at the bottom of our tree. “You think he’ll come up here?”
“No,” I say and point to a hole in the bottom. “I think he’ll go into that hole. I bet that’s his home.”
We sit and watch the little animal scurry around for a while then he slips into that hole and Carter seems amazed. “How did you know that?”
“When you spend a lot of time in the woods, you learn things. So how was school today?” I ask him as we settle back and look up into the tree above us. The sun’s light is filtered through the already sparse leaves as fall is setting in well and most of the leaves have fallen off the branches.
“It was okay,” he says then he bumps his shoulder to mine. “I think this girl likes me. Her name is Trudy and she’s kind of pretty. She’s missing one of her front teeth right now but I can see past that and see that she’s pretty.”
“Well, that’s good. But the main thing is this,” I tell him. “Is she nice?”
“Well, she had an apple in her lunch today and she asked me if I wanted it cause she hates them now on account of it was one of them she bit into and that’s how her tooth came out. So I think that was a nice thing for her to do,” he says then points at a cardinal as it flies into the tree and lands on a branch not too far from us.
“You should get out your camera,” I tell him.
As he takes his backpack off and digs through it to find the elusive camera, the bird flies away with the noise. But he finally finds it and takes it out. “I’m ready now.”
With a nod, I look around and so does he. A little baby deer comes out of the brush and I touch his shoulder to get him to look that way. He pulls the camera up and takes the picture then shows it to me as he whispers, “I got it!”
“You did!” I whisper back and pat him on the back.
When I was a kid with my gramps I just thought I loved doing this. But I found out it’s even better on this side of the game. The teaching side.
Every single day these kids teach me a little something I never knew about myself. I learned from Rogan that I am an expert diaper changer. I’m much faster than Mercy is at it. A thing I wish I hadn’t gloated about so much because now she uses that to get me to do most of the diaper duty.
Mia taught me that I can braid hair like a professional. She likes the way I do her hair so that’s another thing that I’m the go-to guy for. And Carter has taught me that being a good role model is my top priority. That little guy watches my every move so I have to be on my game when he’s around.
Never did I think the thing that would make my life better than it had ever been would be having a family to call my very own. Life is good and it just keeps getting better.
MERCY
Sitting in a rocking chair on the wrap-around porch of the ranch house we recently bought, I rock little Rogan to sleep as I watch Jude teaching Carter and Mia how to rides the horses he just brought home for them.
He spoils these kids the same way he was spoiled. Not a thing comes out of their m
ouths that they have the slightest interest in that he doesn’t show up with one day out of the blue.
At first, I was all over him about doing that. But in true Jude fashion, he was going to do what he was going to do. So, like everything Jude-related, I got over it and let him have his way. There’s no stopping the man, anyway.
That determined spirit he has might seem like a real pain in the butt at times but it got him through a patch of his life that would’ve been devastating if he didn’t have that. So I have to respect that aspect of him.
Jude has made my life so much more than what my initial plan was. To become a lonely woman who lived her life merely to work and raise kids and leave romance and relationships out of it.
He forced his way into my world and I can’t stop thanking God that he did that for me. Pulling the baby off my shoulder, I look at his sleeping face. He’s a combination of me and the man I love with all of my heart. A testament to our love and our commitment to one another.
Our family will be strong because if Jude and his love for us all. And I’ll never take that man for granted. He is a gift to us and I’ll always treat him like that.
The day Jude Hurst came into my life is a day I’ll never forget and I will cherish the gift I was given on that day for the rest of my life, and then some.
The End
Preview of MallorySeries
A Billionaire Romance
Series 1 -5
By Michelle Love
Mallory
A Billionaire Romance
Book 1
Torment Me
By Michelle Love
Description
When art student Quilla Chen bravely dives into a Venetian canal to rescue a suicidal man, she has no way of knowing the man she has saved in the eldest son of one of America's wealthiest families. But Jakob Mallory has his own dark secrets - an addiction to cocaine which has fueled his epic rise to the top but now threatens everything as his addiction grows stronger. Their attraction to each other is palpable and soon they become lovers. When Jakob and Quilla return to Seattle, Jakob persuades her to meet his family and soon she become embroiled in their lives and loves. The only person who resents the newcomer is Jakob's business partner, Gregor, the man who led Jakob into addiction for his own ambitious purposes. When he offers Quilla a huge amount of money to leave Jakob, a furious Jakob fires Gregor from the company, with his father's backing. Gregor, humiliated and incensed, confronts Jakob and Quilla at a public encounter which could threaten their lives...
Torment Me
‘Bella, bella, bella!’
Quilla ignored the calls of the gondoliers as she walked quickly over the bridge. It was dusk, and Venice was readying itself for the night life but at this moment, on this particular bridge, it was quiet. Quilla kept her focus on her destination; she’d had good practice at tuning out the incessant catcalls and whistles that followed her. Even dressed as she was; simple white shirt and cargo pants, the Italian boys would make their appreciation known. It had annoyed her at first – her American sensibilities offended by their objectification but now she just ignored it.
Every morning she woke up in this glorious city, Quilla Chen would spend a few seconds in wonderment. Italy…she never thought a working class girl like her would get here. Oh she’d worked eighteen hours days to fit in both work and college, ending up with a Fine Arts degree but when her professor at her alma mater had called and told her she’d won the scholarship to go spend the summer painting in Venice, she could hardly believe it.
‘And when you get back,’ he’d said kindly, ‘we’ll discuss your Ph.D. thesis.’
Her. Quilla Chen, soon to be Doctor Quilla Chen. ‘I’ll make you proud, mom,’ she’d said the day she’d found out. The photograph of her mother, five years dead, didn’t make up for the loss but Quilla had felt happier than in a long time. ‘Do something’ were her mother’s last words to her and she had. She had done something. At twenty-four, Quilla was looking at a future which had some value, some meaning.
Now, as she walked towards the north of the city, towards Cannaregio, away from the tourist track, she wondered idly if she could make a life here, in this glorious city. There seemed too much to discover for one summer, she wanted to immerse herself in the culture, the language, the beauty. Since arriving a week ago, she had already sketched and painted a number of pieces, so inspired had she been. Tonight her mission was to sketch and photograph dusk falling over St. Dell’isole Michele and Murano from the Ponte de la Sacca de la Misericordia. The bridge was quiet when she got there. She settled down on a small stone walkway at the side of the bridge and looked out over the Venetian Lagoon. It had been a typical sweltering day but as the sun began to set, the colors that spread across the sky were heaven. Soon Quilla was so lost in her work that she didn’t even notice the last of the boats coming out from under the bridge and that the streetlamps were turning on.
It was only when she heard the scrape of shoes that she looked up. A man, tall, wearing a suit, stood at the pinnacle of the bridge, staring down into the water. He was handsome – if a little red-eyed and unshaven – Quilla judged him to be in his early to mid-forties. It was the expression on his face that made her heart twist with sadness. Hopelessness, utter, complete hopelessness…she drew herself back into the shadow of the bridge, not wanting to intrude on the man’s privacy but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. As she watched, he slowly, carefully took his jacket off and laid it carefully on the bridge. With mounting horror, she saw him lay his wallet and phone on top and then his shoes. Oh god no…before she could scream out, he leapt in one movement, plunging into the murky depths of the water.
Quilla reacted in a flash, wrenching off her sneakers and shirt, she dived into the water. Opening her eyes, she could see nothing in the dark waters of the lagoon; instead, she stretched out her arms searching. She knew it was probably hopeless but something in the man’s face made her want to find him, want to save him. She broke the surface to suck in some air, then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw something. Without thinking she made a grab at it and felt an arm. She pulled on it and the man broke the surface too, spluttering, cursing – in English. An American.
‘No you freaking don’t,’ Quilla gasped as he struggled to free himself and using all of her strength, she hauled him to the side of the canal. He was a big man so all she could do was pin him to the side of the canal and hope someone would come help them both out.
‘Let me go,’ he murmured, his voice breaking and cracking.
‘No, never…’ Quilla had no idea why she said that with so much feeling but her whole world was now about saving this man. She yelled out, hoping one of the people in the houses at the edges of the canal would hear her. A minute or two passed and then there were two young men scrambling to help. ‘Get him out first,’ she ordered them and though they looked unhappy, they did as she said, dumping the crumpled American to the stone walkway and lifting her out.
‘Thank you,’ she gasped, ‘Thank you.’
They asked her, in broken English, if she was okay – did she want them to call for an ambulance? Quilla, panting hard, looked down questioningly at the American, who shook his head.
‘No, please, no ambulance, no police, no press.’
No…press? Who was this guy? Quilla put her shirt back on her damp body – clearly to the disappointment of the two boys. She shook her head, laughing. ‘Look, can you watch him for a sec while I grab his stuff from up there? Might tell me who he is and where we can take him.’
She climbed up onto the bridge and grabbed his jacket and personal items. She bent down to wrap his jacket around him and for the first time, he looked at her properly. Their eyes locked and Quilla felt something shift in her soul. He slowly lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, stroking the soft apple of it so tenderly she thought she might cry, looking at her as if he couldn’t believe she was there.
‘Okay,’ she said, embarrassment making her cheeks flame, ‘let’s see wh
o you are….Jakob? Jakob Mallory?’
‘Yes, I…’ He gave a big sigh and she was struck again about how hopeless he looked. ‘For what it’s worth, I’m Jakob Mallory.’
‘Jakob, do you have somewhere you’re staying?’
He shook his head. ‘I flew in this afternoon. I wasn’t planning on a vacation.’ He gave her a wry smile then, the first sign of his personality and she found herself smiling back.
‘Well, then…can you walk? You can stay on my couch tonight, and then we’ll get you a room tomorrow.’
He was still staring at her and for a moment she wasn’t sure he had heard what she said.
‘Okay.’
It wasn’t until they were walking back into the city that she realized what she was doing. She’d just saved this dude’s life….and what, now she was taking him back to her apartment? You are insane. But her gut told her that he was no danger, and jeez, she felt a responsibility for him. Besides, she was pretty damn good at martial arts and if he tried anything…
‘What’s your name?’
She smiled. ‘Quilla. Quilla Chen.’
‘Quilla. Unusual.’
She said nothing, used to the reaction. They walked a little in silence for a little way then he put a hand on her arm and stopped her.
‘I can find a hotel…it’s okay.’
She looked up at him. His eyes were the same deep hazel as her own, his close cropped hair a few shades lighter. He towered over her, was a pretty impressive physical specimen, she had to admit, but it was the look in his eyes that still spoke to her. Loneliness. Despair.
‘I don’t think you should be alone, tonight,’ she said simply and Jakob smiled softly.
‘You might be right.’
Billionaire’s Quarry: A Billionaire, Bad Boy, Romance (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Boxed Set) Page 30