by Aubrey Cara
“You did not,” she panted, “Just.. call..my pussy... a fucking lepreahhh—” The rest of what she would have said cut off as he leaned down to take her clit in his mouth, sucking it in before gently biting down. He was rewarded with her shriek. Her hands pulled his hair as her channel spasmed on his fingers. Her honey poured over his hand as she came.
He could taste her arousal on his tongue and the seductive scent made his head spin. He needed to be inside her. He leveled up, and she gave a little cry of protest when he removed his fingers. He jerked his boxers down to mid thigh, smearing her cream over the head of his cock before pushing in. Reveling in the feel of her swollen sheath closing in over him.
He groaned, pausing a second to lean his head on her shoulder. She was squirming and making panting noises that threatened to drive him over too soon. He grabbed her ass off the counter and rammed into her hard. She cried out, clutching his shoulder with one hand, leveling herself on the counter with the other.
He slammed his cock into her three more times, growling, “Is this nice, kitten?” He felt feral as he clenched her ass, working himself inside her. “You're going to come on my cock, screaming in my ear like a good girl,” he said, driving them higher. “Then you're going to suck my cock 'til I come all over your fucking gorgeous tits. I'm going to fucking mark you. Own this little body.” She whimpered, her inner muscles clenching him harder. “You like that, kitten? You going to suck your juices off my cock, then tell me it. Was. Nice?” He knew he was pushing her, testing boundaries he didn't know where the lines were drawn. He couldn't stop himself. Her internal muscles clamped down fist tight as she climaxed.
Seemed his kitten liked dirty talk. “That wasn't enough,” he growled, needing to feel her come apart. “Again.” He leveled her on the counter, pulling one leg up over his arm as reached down to rub her clit between two knuckles, fast and hard. Both hands on the counter behind her to steady herself, her head fell back as she cried out, undulating, trying to meet his strokes as he fucked into her.
This time when she came her entire body bowed as she screamed, her internal contractions threatening to milk him dry. He could barely hold on to pull out. Without prompting she was on her knees in seconds, pumping his cock with her mouth and fist with enthusiasm.
He braced himself on the hard counter, looking down. The sight of her on her knees, her eager, willing mouth swallowing his cock sent him over. “Fuck, I'm going to come.”
She didn't let him pull back. She grabbed his ass and sucked him far back into her throat. He came roaring as she rhythmically swallowed his pulsing stream. His eyesight went hazy at the feel. His knees threatened to buckle. He panted as she sucked him dry. Sucked him until he saw stars. And she sucked and licked on him still as he grew flaccid. He nearly whimpered as he pulled her back by her hair.
The she-devil grinned up at him completely pleased with herself. “That was nice,” she sassed.
He groaned. He knew he was done for. “Come here, kitten.” He pulled her up and cupped her face, leaning down to kiss her gently, noting their combined taste was on her lips with pride. He wrapped his arms around her and she tucked her head against his chest with a little “mmm” sound he could swear was a purr. He smiled in male satisfaction, knowing he was the cause of her sweet state.
He stared at their reflection in the mirror, Kat's soft white curves wrapped in his sun darkened arms. A feeling of contentment filled him. He wondered if he had ever shared such a tender moment with a woman before. Sexual or otherwise. It was a bit disconcerting to realize he hadn't.
He'd never been in a real relationship with a woman. He couldn't remember the last time he had a steady girlfriend. He'd certainly never felt this caring. Like he wanted her to look at him with adoration, love. Something he'd normally avoid. Even when he was younger he'd been most happy with the kind of girls that didn't like attachments. That had suited him just fine, but as he stroked down the curve of Kat's back, one hand fisted in her silky curls, he realized he wouldn't mind if she got attached. Was kind of hopeful she would, in fact. And that scared the shit out of him. He hadn't even worn a condom. He'd never gone without a rubber. Ever. Damned if it wasn't the best feeling in the world. And he’d only ever get that with Kat.
He was feeling too much too fast. He needed to put some time and space between him and Kat. He didn't need to rush into anything and have her get hurt. Hell, he didn't want to get hurt either, and he had a feeling she had the power to hurt him more than anything in his life ever had.
*** ***
Holy shit balls. That just happened, Kat thought. She had just woken up with Caleb McCrae after a night of hot, dirty sex. Then after he humiliatingly caught her chastising herself—naked—he blew her world all over again. Her brain still felt scrambled. The man only had to look at her and she lost all sense of reasoning, yet she'd never felt so sexually powerful. She'd never had a guy like Caleb seem so blatantly in lust with her.
To have this man at her mercy was a rush and she still felt a little high. She had never completely sucked off a guy before. His dirty talk had weaved through her head, making her delirious with desire. She wanted to please him and in turn please herself, and she had done just that.
He was so powerful and demanding, but gentle and caring too. She should be mortified by how much he made her come undone, but couldn't bring herself to feel embarrassed as he held her in his embrace, stroking her hair and back. She felt tiny and feminine pressed up against him, in a way she'd never felt before. Standing up against him like she was—front to front—she realized just how large he was. The top of her head only came to the center of his very defined chest. He wasn't just tall, but wide too. He had easily picked her up like she weighed nothing—more than a few times—and it made her dizzy just thinking about being wrapped in such powerful arms.
She didn't know what to make of him. She never expected this sweet, tender side that wanted to cuddle and be playful as much as he wanted to fuck. Kat wasn't sure what this was between them, but she liked it. A little too much. The man made her lose her mind. She only had to be in his presence and she turned into a sex crazed maniac.
She didn't know how to be herself with him. Her limited dating experience did not prepare her for all the feelings evoked by Caleb McCrae. One minute he was taunting and playful, making her want to throw something at his head. The next minute intense sex god, making her want to throw her body at him. She felt like she was at his mercy, and that wouldn't do. She needed to get some control. She needed to remind herself not to get attached. Not to a guy like Caleb. It would only end in disappointment.
Luckily her stomach rumbled, keeping her from analyzing the kind of emotional state the man left her in. “Let's get in the shower,” she said, reluctantly pulling away. “I'm starving, and today was supposed to be my grocery day.”
“I noticed,” Caleb chucked. The masculine sound did melty things to her. “When was the last time you went food shopping? Three months ago?” he asked.
“Har, har,” she said, forcing herself to not run her hands over him as she got into the shower. “I may not be a domestic goddess, but I usually remember to pick up enough to get by on. I'm not a high maintenance girl.” She raised an eyebrow looking him down to see if he had a problem with that. He just rolled his eyes at her. Truth was she was still in many ways living like a college student. She mainly lived off of peanut butter, whole wheat bread, and cereal. If she wanted anything else she got take-out, or ate at the ranch.
“Hey, what is this?” Caleb said, running his fingers over the bruise on her ribs her breast partially hid. “Did you get this last night?”
Kat looked up and nearly flinched away from Caleb's stormy expression. She gulped nodding her head.
“Did I hurt you at all, last night or this morning?”
He looked so upset by the prospect she quickly shook her head. “No, not at all.” She had been so lost in a sensual haze she had completely forgotten the bruise.
He cupped her ch
eek. His gaze was so protective and caring. “Good. You tell me if I ever hurt you in a way you don't like,” he said. His wicked grin back in place. He dropped a sweet kiss on her lips that almost made her forget she was starving. When her stomach growled again, they climbed in the shower.
They washed efficiently—mostly because she kept batting Caleb's wandering hands off her body—dried off, and got dressed. Caleb had to put on his bar clothes from the night before.
“I shouldn't have let you shower,” she said. “If I didn't have to ride in the truck with your stinky self, I would have made you do the walk of shame.”
He chuckled as he zipped his pants. “Kitten, I'm a man that satisfied you well enough last night and this morning, that your neighbors probably heard you screaming. No shame in that. I'll be doing the strut of glory.”
Face flaming in embarrassment, she threw her night shirt she had just picked up at him. It was true. Her neighbors probably did hear them, or rather her. She wasn't sure how she was going to face Ms. Gladys, the sweet elderly lady that lived in the apartment right beneath hers.
“What's with all the projects?” Caleb asked from the living room. He must be talking about her art. She was a little embarrassed to say. She never really talked about her side projects with anyone. Not even her sister. She suspected her sister's partner Sally—an eclectic hippie from Seattle—would love her stuff. Macy, on the other hand, kept pushing her to finish her college degree in business and do something in the box. Which, Kat thought was pretty hypocritical of her. Macy may have been a lawyer for twelve years, but she owned a bakery and taught yoga classes now.
She shrugged. “It's just a little side thing I do. I sell some of it on Etsy.”
“This stuff is really good,” he said. He was holding up one of the metal picture frames she had worked to look almost like lace. She was quite proud of that one.
“It's just a hobby. I wish I had more time for it.” She wished she could do it all the time. She decoupaged metal trash cans, and people used them for their hampers, to store blankets in the living room, or their kids room. Sometimes she did furniture. She also made picture frames and redid old furniture. The smell of paint, varnish, and lacquer got obnoxious here in the apartment, but she hadn't enough money to get a studio.
He gave her a dubious look. “Kitten, this looks like more than a hobby. You put a lot of time and I'm sure money into some of these. Do they sell well online?”
She nodded. “They sell well enough, but I'd have to do it full time to be able to really see a return. They're just crafts that happen to sometimes make me money.”
He shook his head. “These are more than little crafts, and you know it. We're going to have to work on your perception of yourself,” he said ominously as they stepped out of the apartment. She shut and locked the door, and he said, “We're also going to have to work on your inability to quietly close a fucking door.”
She looked at him over her shoulder as he turned and stalked off toward his truck. His shoulders were set, and he looked pissed. She wondered what the big deal was. They were driving out to the ranch and she asked, “Are you seriously pissed about how I close doors?”
He huffed a sigh, “You slam doors. You slam doors without thought of who is around, or how god damn loud it is.”
She still didn't understand what the big deal was. “Oookay. Well, I'll try to be more careful Daddy.”
He screeched the truck to a halt, thankfully on a deserted road. She looked around to make sure there weren't any other vehicles behind them. “What the hell are you doing?!” she asked.
He was gripping the steering so hard his knuckles were white. “Loud, banging noises fuck with my head,” he said. He was looking forward his mouth was a straight line. “I don't get anxiety attacks anymore, but they still make my skin crawl. Like it's tight and agitated. I don't. Fucking. Like it.”
She was suddenly swamped with remorse. She wondered how hard it was for this big, indomitable man to admit that. She could be so dense. He had just told her last night he had problems with PTSD. Of course he wouldn't like loud banging noises like the sound of her inelegant ass slamming doors. “I'm so stupid Caleb. I'm sorry.” She felt a little like crying she felt so bad.
His body seemed to deflate and he glanced over at her. “It's all right. I'm being a touchy ass,” he said, as he eased his foot back onto the gas to continue down the road.
“No, I should be more aware of my surroundings and sensitive to the people around me. It's been pointed out to me—more than once—that I may be an insensitive bitch. In not so many words.”
He raised an eyebrow looking over at her. “This isn't going to turn into a touchy feely moment is it?” She shook her head, trying to dispel any girly tears that threatened to break free.
“Good,” he said. “And kitten?” She looked over at him, and a slow, wicked grin spread across his face. “You ever call me daddy again...you better be asking to suck my cock, come on my cock, or have my cock shoved up your sexy ass. Is that clear, little girl?”
The bottom dropped out of her stomach. She was fairly certain she just soaked her panties. She nodded dumbly. “Yes sir,” she said without thinking and kicked herself when his grin spread even wider. She could feel her blush rise to her hairline and wanted to chuck something at his head when he winked at her. Thank God they were almost at the ranch. Caleb McCrae was not good for her peace of mind.
*** ***
Caleb had planned on parting ways with Kat at the ranch. She could take his truck or borrow one from Jack and Diane. He didn't care as long as he got some time and distance from the little she-devil. She was getting under his skin. Yet instead of goodbye he heard himself say, “Why don't you come with me today?”
“Aren't you going to see your mother?”
He tried not to wince as he nodded.
“You want me...to meet your mother?”
He sighed. “It's not a big deal. You'd be doing me a favor. I haven't seen her since I've been back in town. You'd be a buffer.”
“You've been back three months,” she chastised. “How bad is she that you've waited three months to see this woman, then drag your fuck buddy to see her?”
His jaw clenched. “You're more than a fuck buddy,” he said tightly. She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her bountiful chest and he wanted to strap her ass. He promised himself he would later. He wasn't sure why he hadn't gone to visit his mother. “My mother, she's a lot to take on a regular basis,” he said honestly. When Kat just looked at him in question, he continued, “She makes lawn ornaments. And she wears stilettos. Everywhere. She also wears animal print hot pants, almost exclusively.”
“Shut. Up,” Kat said, shoving his shoulder, her face aglow. If he knew anything about Kat, he knew she loved anything quirky. Quirky was the tip of the iceberg with his mother. Strange and outlandish fit her to a tee.
“So how 'bout it, kitten? You in?”
Kat flushed, smacking his arm and looking all around them. They stood in front of the bunkhouse he was staying in. The bunkhouse was about a hundred yards back from the main house. It was the middle of the day, so no one was around. She hissed, “Don't call me kitten. Not here.”
He smiled, and said, “Darlin'?” just to hear her say, “Don't call me darlin!” And she didn't disappoint.
“I'm serious, Caleb. I have a reputation at the ranch. I'm just one of the guys here.”
He put his hands up, relenting. “Yes, ma'am,” he said. He wouldn't be the bearer of bad tidings and inform her he'd caught more than a few of the ranch hands checking out her very feminine form. He'd wanted to punch their teeth in each and every time, too. “And since we're on the subject...just so you know, you can call me Sir. Anytime. Here at the Circle F, out in public, or when it's just you and me.” She scowled at him and he said, “Or Master, if you prefer.” He nodded to himself liking the sound of that. He was already forming fantasies with Kat in a little scrap of cloth kneeling at his feet. “I'd like you to call
me Master. You could be my slave girl,” he said, trailing a finger down her cheek. Damned if she didn't try to bite him. And damned if that didn't turn him on a little.
“I will not be your slave girl,” she angrily bit out, scowling. Her arms were crossed over her ample chest, and she was getting huffy. He loved getting her riled.
He smiled unrepentantly. “Fine,” he drawled. “Indentured servant works too. It doesn't have the same ring to it as slave girl, but I can think of more than a few creative ways my little servant girl can work off her debt. Naked, but wearing one of little white caps. Maybe some stockings.”
Kat's nostrils flared. Just as she was opening her mouth to no doubt let him have it, Diane called out, “Hey, you two!” She waved, striding across the yard toward them at the bunkhouse.
Diane, or Di as most people called her, was a tall, robust, no nonsense women. She had the look of an older Katharine Hepburn, and carried just as much spunk. She was no wallflower ranch wife. She worked the ranch alongside the men for as long as he could remember. Although, nowadays it was more likely to catch her in the office, working behind the scenes. She stopped in front of them in a braced stance with hands on her hips that was very Diane. She smiled saying, “I thought you were both off today?” She looked between him and Kat, a question clear on her face. He wasn't about to answer. Then her eyes caught and held on Kat's cheek. “What the hell happened to you?”
He saw Kat wince, and that she was hesitant to answer so he did so for her, “Some asshole outside of Rusty Spur attacked her last night.”
Diane looked at him speculatively, “And you were there?”