She turned when he stepped into the nook. “Are you okay?"
She gave him a dry laugh. “River, do I look, okay?"
Her fear coupled with his own. He wasn't good with emotions. He was even worse when it came to a woman's emotions. Shit! He took a deep breath.
"Tell me what's wrong."
"I can't do this."
He smiled. “Yes, you can."
"I hope so, but I won't lie. I'm nervous as hell.” She gave him a shallow smile. “You know me better than anybody does. I've never been really good at this. I don't know why I thought I could do this.” She shook her arms around wildly to encompass the stadium.
He strode to her and grasped her shoulders. “You can do this. I know you can."
She stared up at him for several seconds with wide eyes. “God, I wish I had your confidence."
He smiled. “We just need to get rid of your nerves,” he murmured as he placed his lips against hers. His kiss was sweet, his mouth soft against hers. He made sure to keep the kiss soft, sweet, slowly compelling Lark's full lips to open for him. “Oh, River,” she moaned before parting her lips for his thrusting tongue. He swept in, touching, tasting, and devouring the sweet taste of her succulent lips. His fingers tightened in her hair, holding the sides of her head so she was unable to do anything but accept his plunging tongue.
He fitted his hips to hers and moved the already swollen bulge between his thighs against her cleft. Several moments later, he broke off the kiss. They were both breathing hard and heavy.
He stepped away from her and took a deep breath, trying to steady his raging arousal. This moment was supposed to be about Lark. About her nerves. About her needs.
He wasn't even part of the equation.
Lark took advantage of his actions, or lack thereof, and walked past him. He grabbed her around the waist before she could take her second step and pulled her against him. Back to chest, they stood for a moment, simply breathing.
His palm moved up her torso to cup one heavy breast. “When you get out there, with Marilyn by your side, I want you to think of me.” He could feel her gasp as her breast moved in his hand. Her engorged nipple tickled the heart of his palm. River tightened his hold, moulding, teasing, and caressing the swollen mound.
Another hand moved under skirt, slipping between her stockings, past the French cut lace panties to touch her cunt. He gritted his teeth when he found she was already wet.
"When you're out there remember this ... the desire ... the attraction ... the passion."
His fingers slipped between the folds of her pussy to flick her clit. “Shit, River."
"Tell me what you feel?"
He thrust one blunt finger into her cunt while another pressed against her clitoris. “Good. I feel good,” Lark moaned.
"What else do you feel?” He deepened his touch, plunging his finger past the tight muscles of her clenching sex.
"I can't ... shit, I can't think,” she whispered as her body broke out in shivers. One finger withdrew from her cunt only for two to surge into her.
"I feel hot."
"When you get out there, when you and Marilyn do your routine, you remember this. Remember how much faith I have in you."
"Fuck,” she grunted as her pussy tightened around his fingers with her orgasm.
He could feel every pulse of her orgasm as her sex fluttered around him.
"I love you because you're smart, beautiful, and talented. Remember that as you walk around that course."
With a slick sound River pulled his finger from Lark's sex. Her body continued to shudder with her orgasmic release as he righted her panties, her stockings, her skirt. He walked to her front and cupped her face. “I love you, Lark. Don't you forget that.” He pressed a soft kiss against her lips, pivoted and walked to the stands.
Twenty minutes later, River held his breath as he watched Lark and Marilyn do their routine. He had never been more proud. With every step Lark took, he got harder, more aroused.
River's speech had worked a little too well. With each move Lark made, she became more and more aroused. She was obviously remembering the words he had told her not to forget. Her desire was creating the most intoxicating perfume.
Several times during Lark and Marilyn's routine, he'd been forced to clench his fingers to keep from jumping from his seat and taking Lark right then and there—in the middle of the competition with no care who saw them.
"Be careful what you wish for,” he murmured to himself. Every inch of her lush body exuded confidence. It also radiated enough heat to singe every one of his nerve endings.
Still, a slither of unease snaked down his spine as he watched them. He had to continuously force himself to push the emotion away as Lark coached Marilyn through the first round of events. But by the end of their routine he was genuinely nervous. She hadn't looked at him once, and he was sitting in the front row, right in her line of sight. It wasn't the fact that she hadn't caught his gaze that made him anxious. No, it was the fact that she was actively trying to avoid him as she walked Marilyn through the obstacle course that made him nervous.
He knew she was afraid, he could smell the scent of her thick fear. He assumed she was afraid of losing the competition. Only later did he realise how wrong he was. Even though there was a lead ball was in his gut, he yelled “That's my girls,” as the two finished the first course.
Heart pounding, River watched Lark's beautiful mocha face as the judges gave their scores. They were good—respectable, but he was afraid they weren't good enough to get the duo to go onto the next round. Several minutes later, his fear was confirmed when the announcer said the names of the dogs and owners that would be going on to the competition's next level.
River couldn't make it behind the scenes fast enough. Every step he took felt as though he was walking through quicksand. Time slowed down as he ran through the empty hallways to reach Lark. He knew she was heartbroken. Although her face hadn't shown any emotion when the announcer said who was going to the next round, he'd felt her pain. Her disappointment.
And there was the rage.
He moved aside the curtain that hung over the edge of the canopy Lark shared with another contestant and strode to where she had been placed, and came to a halt. She was gone. The fold down table looked as though it had never been occupied. He took a deep breath and turned around, trying to figure out where she was. Shit! He growled as he headed to the car.
She was running scared.
"Lark,” River yelled just as she slammed the front door. She glanced at him as he ran towards her car, grimaced and started the engine. She drove away seconds before he reached her vehicle.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Five
Homecoming
One week.
Seven days of hell. One-hundred-and-sixty-eight hours spent trying to forget about the man who had rocked her world and left her emotions in shambles. The morning after their mating, Lark woke, surprised to find that what she'd thought was a dream had actually occurred. River's amorous attention never gave her the chance to talk to him about their mating. The one time he did speak of it, he simply said, “We're mated. There's nothing to talk about."
Unable to talk to River, Lark ended up writing a letter. She'd left it at the table the show assigned her and Marilyn. The absence of River's presence told her he'd received it. River was a very possessive man. If she even considered running away from him, he would chase her. But the letter made it very clear that she didn't want him to chase her, they could not make it as a couple, there was only physical attraction between them. Nothing more.
She hadn't been able to tell him that she was in heat, but Lark figured he'd reason that out once he was away from her pheromones.
Lark glanced out her bedroom window as she thought of the last time she saw River. The look of pain and anger on his face was emblazoned on her mind. There were some moments, the times when she missed River the most, when Lark regretted the letter.
"
It was for the best,” she murmured to herself.
For the past week, she'd been trying to do the one thing that always helped her exorcise her demons. But her art was part of the problem. Lark painted more in the week since she'd seen River than she had painted all of last month. Too bad she kept drawing the same thing.
Black hair. Amber eyes. Chiselled features.
And when she wasn't painting his face she was dreaming about it. And masturbating to it. Big Willie had never been the same. Neither had her shower.
She'd also been doing a lot of that lately. Cold showers, that is. She tugged the belt on her robe before running her fingers through her still wet hair.
She grimaced as the tangles caught her attention. She needed to go to schedule an appointment with her hairdresser. Too bad that required going into town. She'd tried that three days after she left River. She'd seen him everywhere during the short trip to the grocery store.
It was like her mind and body didn't want to let him go.
For the millionth time in the week since she had last seen him, his scent drifted to her nostrils and caught her heart in a tight grip. She'd scrubbed her whole house, thrown out everything she took to New York. Hell! She'd given Marilyn five baths, and she still smelled him everywhere.
It was like he was a part of her.
She supposed he was. In three days, River had managed to work his way deep into her system. Whereas before he had simply been a part of her heart, now he was the very blood pumping through her veins.
He was her everything.
Fuck!
She blinked back tears as she leapt from her front couch and strode to her studio. Lark had only taken two steps when the doorbell rang. She wiped the tears from her eyes and pulled the door open, colliding face to face with the source of her tears. Well, that explained the scent.
"River?"
"Imagine that? Finding you right here, hiding away. Hiding from me.” He stepped into the apartment and closed the front door behind him. Without breaking her gaze, he reached behind him and turned the lock. She felt the clink deep in her bones.
Lark licked her bottom lip slowly as she watched him. She took a step back. He followed, shaking his head slowly. “Uh uh uh. Running again, Lark? I know you're stronger than that."
She stopped in the middle of another retreating step, his words embarrassing her. “What are you doing here?"
"Why hunting you down, sweetheart,” he said with a harsh grin. “I got your letter. I won't lie, I was pissed as hell when you ran away and even more angry when I read your letter. I got in my car and started driving. I was determined to bring you back then I started thinking, “Maybe she's right."
"Maybe I'm right?” she gasped in surprise. The part of her that was waiting for River to come for her died a painful death.
"I thought about it. I really did, Lark. We may be mated, but I don't want to force you to be with me."
"I—"
He held his hand, stopping her words. “After thinking about it, I realised you were wrong. There is more than physical attraction between us. A lot more.” The last few words were spoken in a dense voice that caressed her skin.
She threw up both hands when he started towards her. “Wait! There's something I have to tell you."
He stopped in his tracks and folded both arms across his broad chest. Lark toyed with her belt as the sight of all those muscles moving stirred a fluttering in her sex.
He watched her nervous movements with glittering eyes. “What exactly is it that you have to tell me?"
She chewed her bottom lip and jammed her hands into her pockets. “I ... uh.” She took a deep breath and focused on the picture behind him. “I was in heat two weeks ago. I was in heat while I was in New York. It wasn't me you wanted but the pheromones."
River chuckled, but Lark felt everything but amusement rolling off him. He was angry, livid actually, and aroused. The arousal made her breath hitch.
"I knew that,” he said as he advanced.
"You knew!” she sputtered as she walked farther into the kitchen.
His smile widened. It had a hard edge that glided down her torso and settled in her gut. Remarkably, Lark felt herself getting wetter even as she took a step back. She blamed her reaction entirely on her heat cycle even though she knew it wasn't true. Number one—she was no longer in heat. Number two—she had always responded to River's smiles. It was a large part of the reason she'd put so much distance between them.
She'd gotten tired of wanting a man she could not have.
"Let me rephrase that. I knew you were in heat. I scented it the moment I walked into the lobby. You sprayed just enough of that blocking perfume to keep humans from scenting you. But I'm no human.” He bit out the words as he moved towards her.
Lark instinctively backed up, walking deeper into the enclave that led to the kitchen.
"Your pheromones were strong, thick and highly intoxicating. See, I've got your scent memorised. It's always been ... attractive. So I knew there was something different about it, and I figured out what that something was very quickly and used it to my advantage."
Lark stared at River in shock. “You knew, and yet you..."
"Damned right I knew. The thing is when you are in love with a woman, you want to spend your every waking moment with her, and live for the moment when you can slide into her. A few pheromones are nothing. All they did was take me from hungry to starved.” He paused and his smile widened, becoming deeper, darker and more dangerously seductive. “Then again, it might have been the eight years you spent avoiding me."
Lark took another step back. She pushed aside the pleasure that blossomed in her heart at his words. Instead, she focused on what she could handle. “I'm not avoiding you. We've both grown apart since college."
"Thanks to you.” River advanced three steps, pressing his body against hers, crushing her breasts against the flat plane of his hard chest. “You're mine now, Lark. And I take care to keep what is mine. Don't ever think I'll let you go.” River's lips descended upon hers, crushing her mouth. His tongue, warm and wet, slipped through her lips that had parted in surprise and stroked over the inner recesses of her mouth.
She moaned against his lips as he deepened the kiss, touching every inch of her, devouring the deepest corners of her soul.
River broke off their torrid kiss to press soft, sweet kisses against her jaw, her cheeks, and her neck. He swiped the velvet pad of his tongue down her neck until he reached the erratically beating pulse at her throat. He flicked his tongue against the beat and sucked the flesh into his mouth.
His palms drifted up her torso to cup the aching mounds of her breasts. Callused thumbs brushed the distended swollen tips until a cry was wrenched from her parted lips. Hungry hands grasped the belt of her robe and undid the tie. A shiver ran through Lark's body when his fingers pushed the fabric off her shoulders and forced her back against the cool refrigerator door.
Her eyes widened in surprise. Her breath was torn from her chest. She looked up and caught River's heavy lidded gaze. His palm glided down her torso, over her belly until it reached the nest of midnight curls that shielded her cunt. He parted the swollen lips of her pussy and stroked one finger over her clitoris.
"Tell me you don't want this, that you don't want me?” he demanded in a voice darker than night and just as dangerous.
Lark's eyes slammed shut as one finger pressed deep inside her, stroking the hot walls of her sex. She lifted her hips, rocking his finger deeper inside her, silently answering River's question.
Her fingers tightened in the dark strands of River's hair as he pressed hot, opened mouth kisses against her flesh, trailing down her stomach to dip his scalding tongue into her belly button.
"Do you?” His tongue bathed a wet, hot trail up her torso until he reached the aching mounds of her breast. “Mine,” he groaned before he wrapped his lips around the peak of one breast, suckling the nipple deep into the hot recesses of his moist mouth. The finger inside Lark's p
ussy thrust deep, and she keened as pleasurable heat streaked through her body. River withdrew but before she could voice her bereavement, he plunged two fingers past the tight walls of her rhythmically clenching cunt.
Lark came instantly, shocking herself with the power and quickness of her release. She had only received a scant seconds notice before her legs started shaking and her body imploded on itself. “River,” she cried out as her pussy tightened and cream leaked from her sex.
Before she could catch her breath, he pulled his fingers from her sex with a slick sound, wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her several feet in the air. He stepped forward, brushing his naked cock against her cleft. Lark stared down at it in surprise wondering when he had unsheathed it.
Displaying his agility and strength, River held her up with one hand while the other roamed over her body, dipping between the splayed cheeks of her ass. It easily found the wet core of her centre. Unrepentant, River also attacked her from the front. His cock pressed against the moist area between the lips of her sheath. Lark groaned his name at that first touch of flesh against flesh.
He thrust his hips forward, forcing his cock hard against her clitoris, against her cunt that was almost painfully sensitive.
"Oh my God! River!” Her body broke out into a new bout of spasms and her head slammed against the refrigerator.
"Tell me you don't want this, Lark, and I will stop."
The arm across her back reached up and his fingers tightened in the silky ebony strands of her hair, forcing her to open her eyes and look at him. “Tell me,” River murmured as his cock rubbed against her nether lips.
Lark dragged raspy air past her quivering lips as passion and panic assailed her. She couldn't tell him to stop. Yet, she couldn't find the strength to tell him to not only keep up his pleasurable torture, but to increase it and fuck her. Hard.
"River ... please."
He pulled away from her, cock no longer pressing pleasurably against her clit, fingers no longer grasping and pulling her hair, callused hand no longer testing the depth of her moist desire.
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