by BETH KERY
He watched himself penetrating her mouth for several taut moments before he met her gaze. “That’s right,” he said thickly, still pumping between her lips. “Give in to it. Let me use you . . . just for a little bit, Sophie.”
She moaned at his volatile words, vibrating into his flesh. What he’d said had paradoxically shamed and aroused her. Perhaps her shame came from enjoying this so much, relishing in seeing his pleasure. It was a little like watching him masturbate, but different because she knew his excitement came from what he did to her.
A dove crooned in the woods, the noise calm and soothing, strangely at odds with Thomas’s rigid muscles and grunts and growls of mounting arousal as he thrust into her mouth. Sophie’s lips and jaw grew sore from her tight hold on him and her efforts to maintain a healthy suck, but she didn’t let up. She loved observing her effect on Thomas.
She could smell his arousal with every inhale now, and tasted it as well, as his cock left an occasional stream of pre-cum on her tongue. She longed to put her hands on him, to feel the tight flex of his hard buttocks as he thrust in and out of her mouth, but he’d indicated she should keep her hands behind her back. Her sex had grown warm, wet, and achy. She felt her juices lubricating her inner thighs, but her own arousal didn’t detract from her pleasure at observing Thomas in the midst of sexual excitement . . . in fact, just the opposite. She wanted to take him deeper, to throw him into a frenzy of need.
As if he’d read her mind, he paused with several inches of turgid flesh filling her mouth. He studied her as he ran his fingers over her neck and stroked the base of her skull. His tender caresses on the new, fine hairs at her nape caused her to tremble.
“Do you want more?” he asked in a hushed tone.
She nodded eagerly and sucked hard on his cock, making him grimace. She flinched when the tip of his cock brushed the back of her throat, but he withdrew almost immediately. When she resumed her lusty suck and looked into his face entreatingly, he flexed his hips and slowly penetrated her again. This time, she controlled her body’s defensive reaction when he touched her throat and continued to breathe evenly through her nose.
“Aww, Sophie. Your eyes are going to be the death of me,” he grated out between a clenched jaw. He slid out of her throat, the spasm in his cheek making it clear to her how difficult the withdrawal had been before he tested her once again.
Sophie’s sexual arousal was so great, her concentration on bringing Thomas pleasure so immense, that the sound of the car approaching never even penetrated her awareness. A woman’s shout coming from the direction of the lake house made her pause, however, with Thomas’s cock filling her mouth, the tip lodged in her throat.
“Sophie!” Daisy Dolan called cheerfully. “I’ve got your mail.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Thomas’s entire attention was focused down to the narrow channel of immense pleasure Sophie granted him. He could have forgotten anything with Sophie’s lips wrapped so tightly around his cock and her huge, velvety eyes staring up at him as he had his way with her. He knew he was behaving like a barbarian, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from relishing what she offered so freely. Besides, knowing he was desecrating Sophie just a little added an intoxicating spice to his arousal.
He wanted to be tender with her . . . but he wanted to dirty her just as much.
He never heard the woman’s first call, too preoccupied with Sophie’s delicious mouth, too busy drowning in the liquid sex of her eyes . . . too wrapped up in the building pressure of the explosive orgasm building in his testicles. Thomas only knew something was wrong by the sight of Sophie’s eyes suddenly going wide and panicked while half his cock was buried between her lips. At first he’d thought he’d pushed too hard or far into her throat, but then the woman’s call pierced the roar of lust echoing in his ears.
“Soo-phee,” a woman crooned. Thomas guessed the intruder on their carnal interlude stood at the back corner of Sophie’s lake house. When she called again, it was clear she was walking down the length of the yard toward the lake.
Toward them.
Sophie started in shock, but Thomas’s fingers were already rubbing her scalp, soothing her. “Shhhh,” he whispered softly. “She won’t come back here.”
For a few taut, electrical seconds, they remained immobile, staring into each other’s eyes, both of them still and alert for sounds of the visitor . . . Thomas’s throbbing cock lodged in Sophie’s wet, warm mouth. He heard the woman’s footsteps on the dock and knew Sophie had heard them, too, when her eyelids flickered anxiously. Whether on purpose or not, she tugged gently on his cock.
Sweat trickled down his abdomen. Damn, it was the purest kind of torture to stay still under these circumstances. He grimaced as he slid his swollen cock out an inch and then back into Sophie’s mouth, the small stroke sending tingles of excitement up his spine.
“I’m sorry,” he told her silently as he continued to fuck her mouth with tiny, electrical thrusts. His cock looked enormous now, stretching her lips wide. He was about to come and he couldn’t stop himself. Perhaps he could have ceased if Sophie had jerked away from him, but instead her dark eyes glazed with lust as she stared up at him and she pulled on his cock hard enough to make sweat pour off his brow. There was something else that he saw in her gaze that made him lose all vestiges of control.
Permission.
One hand fell to the back of the boathouse, bracing himself, as he gave himself wholly to the experience. When he felt Sophie’s throat muscles tighten around the tip of his cock, squeezing him, he knew he’d reached his limit. At the moment of his crisis, guilt stabbed through him for the way he’d been using Sophie so selfishly for his pleasure. He wanted like hell to explode in her mouth, but hadn’t he been forceful enough with her as it was? His entire body went tight as a coiled spring, his jaw clenched to prevent a shout of bliss from ripping out of his throat. He winced in unbearable pleasure, but the second before he came, he jerked his cock out of Sophie’s mouth.
The resulting deprivation was too powerful to prevent a low growl of mixed pleasure and pain from leaving his throat. He turned his hip to Sophie and desperately pumped his fist over his spasming cock, his semen shooting in an arc into the grass. As his convulsions waned, he distantly became aware of the footsteps on the dock slowing and then increasing in speed as the visitor walked off the dock.
If that damn, interfering woman is stupid enough to walk back here, she better not have the nerve to look shocked when she sees what’s going on, Thomas thought wildly as another convulsion of pleasure wracked him and he barely contained a rough groan as more come spurted from his cock.
His eyes sprang wide when suddenly Sophie was there, her hands turning his hips demandingly. She sunk his cock into her mouth and bobbed her head over him several times, taking him deep. He grunted in helpless pleasure when he felt her flickering, hungry tongue licking at his slit. All was forgotten as another wave of climax tore through him, nearly as powerful as that first nirvanic jolt, and Sophie sucked at him while he gasped and gave her everything he had to give.
Sweat ran into his eyes when he blinked his eyelids open a pleasure-infused moment later. Sophie’s eyelids were closed now, but she still suckled gently on his softening cock. He shivered as echoes of his previous ecstasy rippled through his flesh. He raised his hand and ran his fingers through her silky hair before he palmed her scalp.
Slowly, almost regretfully, she slid her lips off his cock. She didn’t move from her kneeling position. The vague memory of the female intruder struck his dazed brain and he glanced around in confusion.
“It was Daisy Dolan, bringing my mail. I heard her car pull out of the drive a few seconds ago.”
His hand went to her elegant throat. He stroked it, wanting to soothe the rasp he’d heard in her voice, feeling guilty for being the one to cause it by thrusting his cock so deep into the heaven of her.
“I’m sorry,” he said. He meant it on so many levels. Daisy Dolan had undoubtedly heard his m
uffled grunts and groans. His pleasure had been too immense to contain.
Sophie gave him a little smile. She looked as lovely to him at that moment as she ever had, with her blonde hair mussed from his hands, her lips reddened and swollen from his thrusting cock . . . her cheeks not just pink, but crimson from her arousal.
When he recognized that a fever still raged in her, when his had been quenched so well . . . so thoroughly, he bent down and pulled her to her feet. Saying nothing, he pushed her back against the boathouse. Holding her gaze, he lifted the hem of her dress.
He’d been feeling so guilty for glorying in what she offered him so generously that it stunned him—gratified him deeply—to see how much it had aroused her to do it. When he dipped a forefinger into the warm, abundant cream between her labia, he closed his eyes, humbled by the sweetness of her.
“Aw, Sophie,” he murmured close to her upturned face as he slicked his finger over her swollen clit and she vibrated in pleasure. He opened his eyes into slits and witnessed her cheeks flushing even deeper in color. “Why are you so wet, beautiful?”
He made a flicking motion with his forefinger and she gasped.
“Did you like it?” he whispered as he caressed her intimately and his lips brushed against hers. “Did you like having me fuck that sweet mouth?”
She groaned softly as he vibrated her clit. He wanted her response, found himself hungering for it, despite his recent powerful climax—but he could be patient. When Sophie finally gave him what he wanted—when she was ready, her admission would be all that much sweeter for both of them.
“Spread your thighs,” he muttered thickly.
When she followed his instructions, he paused in his ministrations. He carefully untied the strips of fabric that held up her sundress and lowered the clingy fabric below her full breasts.
He smiled when he looked at her face and saw she’d been watching his actions with huge eyes.
“Isn’t that a pretty sight?” he murmured as he fixed his gaze on her full, flushed bare breasts and lifted the hem of her dress once again. He longed to slip the fat, pink nipples into his mouth, but he enjoyed looking at her almost as much. He slid a finger into her slit and ground the ridge of his palm lightly against her clit. He groaned at the same time she did. Her pussy drenched his palm.
Her head thumped back against the siding of the boathouse as he slowly drew his finger in and out of her slick, clinging vagina.
“Thomas,” she moaned in anguished arousal as her head twisted against the wall, and he understood why she begged. He wasn’t giving her quite enough pressure to send her over the edge. When he continued to coast her just below the crest of climax, she groaned in frustration and began to make tiny undulations with her hips against his hand.
“Go ahead, Sophie,” he encouraged as he dropped a quick, hot kiss on her parted lips, savoring her taste . . . savoring everything about her. “Use me for your pleasure like I used you.”
Her back teeth gritted together and her eyelids opened. Her usually soft, doelike eyes looked determined as she began to grind her pussy into his hand more insistently. It drove him a little crazy to see her so insistent, so desperate. He snarled as he plunged another finger into her tight, wet pussy, wishing it were his cock.
He licked at her lower lip and she nipped at him. He laughed softly, delighted with her open display of greedy pleasure.
“Tell me you liked it, Sophie. Tell me you liked my cock desecrating that sweet mouth.”
Her facial muscles pulled tight. “I loved it. Loved it . . . Thomas?” She gasped.
He moved his hand, massaging her clit more briskly, and leaned down to suck a succulent nipple. She cried out as orgasm crashed into her. Her shudders of climax vibrated into him. His touch on her turned gentle as he nursed her through her storm.
Once again, he couldn’t understand why he wanted to cherish her when he clearly must want to violate her just as much. He clenched his eyes shut tightly and moved his hands until they encircled her waist. Her breasts were a delicious pressure against his chest when he drew her against him, his pleasure at doing so overriding his regret at pressing her against his unshowered, overheated body.
He buried his face in her perspiration-damp neck, wondering at the fact that even her sweat smelled clean and delicious. He became absorbed in the sound and sensation of her ragged, rapid breath, mesmerized at the profound vibrancy of her being. A tenderness unfurled inside him, feeling like a living thing awakening inside his body, as he recognized her stark vulnerability at that moment. She felt so intensely alive, so real, in his arms.
To be alive is to be vulnerable.
He blinked, banishing the thought. A moment later, the low-grade anxiety that had plagued him for weeks seeped into his consciousness.
But he couldn’t completely forget those wondrous seconds as he held a trembling, gasping Sophie Gable in his arms. He couldn’t stop himself from wanting to experience it all over again.
CHAPTER NINE
Sophie turned her head when Thomas nuzzled her jaw. She met his mouth and they shared a questing, delicious kiss. Strange, how he could be so demanding at times . . . volatile in his manner; and yet so tender and prizing at others.
She heard a soft, furtive sound in the woods behind them and opened her eyelids heavily. The combination of her post-climactic state, the contrast of the warm summer day and the cool, comfortable shade, and Thomas’s languorous, exploratory kiss had a similar effect on her as a good glass of wine or two. When she heard the scraping of brush and tree limbs again, she started slightly in Thomas’s hold. He sealed their kiss.
“Look,” she whispered.
She noticed the wariness that crept into his expression and tightened his muscles. His sudden tension eased when he turned and saw what crept up on them. The little red fox remained suspicious, however, as it stared at them from where it stood at the very edge of the woods with glassy, beady eyes.
“Be careful,” Thomas said when she made to leave his arms and head toward the fox.
“It’s okay. I leave food out for him sometimes. He knows me,” Sophie assured as she briskly pulled up her dress and retied the straps. She rubbed Thomas’s forearm in an “it’s okay” gesture, but he still seemed doubtful about releasing her from the circle of his arms.
“He’s just a little guy,” Sophie told him with a smile and upraised brows.
“Little guys have been known to have big teeth . . . and become rabid.”
She shook her head and stepped slowly toward the fox. Thomas watched her with a scowl on his face as he scooped up his swimming trunks from the grass.
“Guy isn’t rabid. His brothers and sisters and mother were all killed by some kind of predator last summer while I was here, probably a coyote,” Sophie murmured as she approached the fox, which appeared to be wavering between staying put and running. “I used to see the lot of them occasionally in the yard, or in the woods, while I was walking. Then suddenly there was just little Guy here, all alone. I got into the habit of setting food out for him here behind the boathouse. I call him Guy . . . hey, Guy,” she crooned as she neared him. She started to reach for him. The fox flinched before baring white, sharp teeth.
“Sophie, step back,” Thomas growled.
“It’s okay,” she soothed both males with whom she shared the clearing.
She crouched slowly, assuming a less threatening posture with the wary animal. From her new angle, she was able to see how the fox didn’t put any weight on its left front foot. “Aww, here’s the problem,” she sighed regretfully. “Your paw has been injured, huh, little Guy?”
She rose cautiously and began to back away.
“Sophie?” Thomas asked sharply when she started toward the house.
She spun around and faced him in a distracted fashion. He’d put the swim trunks back on and stood watching her with a bewildered expression on his handsome face.
“Oh . . . I’m sorry, Thomas. I need to go to get him some food and something to dri
nk. See how skinny he is? He can’t hunt with his paw injured like that. I’ll feed him first, and then try to figure out a way to get him to let me take a look at his paw. Some jerk set a trap in the woods, I’m guessing. It’s illegal, but people will be idiots.”
“You make a habit of this sort of thing, I guess?”
She shrugged and gave him an apologetic grin when she noticed his expression of amazement had morphed into humor.
“I was about to take you up to bed, you know.”
“Oh . . . you were?” She fumbled, caught off guard by his forthrightness, not to mention the appeal of his proposition. “This won’t take me long, I promise,” she said as she started to turn. “Oh, and Thomas?”
“Yeah?” He was now exchanging suspicious glances with Guy.
“You probably should give Guy some space. Male territory and all that. This patch of grass is where he always fed last summer.”
Thomas’s eyebrows shot up. He gave a sharp bark of male laughter that made Guy inch back toward the woods.
“Thomas—” she hissed
“All right, all right. I’ll go and take a swim,” he assured her, laughter still shaping his mouth. He took several backward steps toward the lake and the fox came to a halt in its departure. “First time I’ve ever been beat out for a woman by a guy with four legs, though.”
“Three and a half, actually,” Sophie muttered, giving him a reproachful glance even though she was glad to see his smile.
CHAPTER TEN
She saw him swimming when she came out the side door a minute later with a dish of hamburger and a bowl of milk. He was past the Dolan’s dock, still moving in a direction away from her at a brisk pace. He stayed in a straight line forty or so feet from the shoreline, safely within the buoys where boats were required to proceed with caution due to swimmers.