His voice deepened as his middle finger slipped between the slick folds. “I’m going to taste you here.”
She blinked.
“No complaints?”
“I trust you.”
Emotion flared in his eyes. “Shit.” His hand clenched.
“Oh!”
“I want you to see what I see. Sit up.”
She did. She looked like a pagan offering with her full breasts quivering with every breath, legs splayed wide, his big hand nestled between them. She was beautiful and enticing, earthy and primal. And all for him.
He wiggled his fingers. Ghosts of sensations trickled out. She tried to catch them, but they trailed away. When his hand left her, she moaned.
“Now, think how much better that’s going to feel when it’s my tongue.”
“Oh my God.”
The rest of her gown came off in a tear. It was hard to lie still under the heat of his admiration. Harder still to not writhe with frustration.
“What do you want me to do?”
“What do you feel like doing?”
“I’m stuck between running and wiggling.”
“I’ve done enough chasing.”
It wasn’t exactly a preference.
Cupping her cheek in his hand, he kissed her softly. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with innocence.” Another light kiss and then a more lingering one. “There’s nothing more arousing to a man than watching his woman give in to the pleasure he brings her, so wiggle, squirm, bite, scratch, scream. It’s all good.”
Catching his hand, she turned her head, holding his gaze as she kissed his palm. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Unsure of what to do, she lay back and waited, her legs falling apart naturally.
“Oh yes, very nice.”
His big hand cupped her breast. Heat. So much heat.
“Look.”
She did, seeing how the contrast of his dark skin against her white, his strength plumping her softness. His heat stoking her fire.
“I love your breasts.”
“I love your hands on them.”
Shadows flitted across his expression, playing with the passion and desire, creating something deeper, something more powerful. Something that everything inside her responded to. Oh, she would love to take his picture now, right now, like this. She wanted to see him with his soul laid bare.
“I want to see you, too.”
“You will.”
“When?”
“You come for me like I want, and you can have all the naked me you can stand.”
She didn’t even know what that meant. She told him so.
With a shake of his head, he came over, his shadow swallowing the light. His hands on her breasts became more demanding. She loved how he worked them, shaping them to his pleasure, milking sensation from every inch, drawing it as he built on that fire within. He made her burn. The stronger that fire grew, the stronger their connection. There was nothing brutal or painful in anything he did, but there was an imperative that wouldn’t be denied. And she gave. Her moans, her surrender, everything. The tightness within her spread to an ache as his thumb brushed her nipple, drawing it taut, prepping it for his attention. The ache gave birth to a moan as his head lowered.
He took her nipple into the wet heat of his mouth, rolling it across his tongue, teasing it in little flutters, rewarding it with tiny bites, every move designed to fulfill… But still it wasn’t enough.
“More.”
He turned his attention to the other breast, giving it the same loving kiss, the same tickle, the same tease, the same bite, the same nibble. Everything she wanted he was giving to her, and it wasn’t enough. Her thighs were wet with passion. Her heart full of anticipation. The rough material of his pants abraded the inside of her thighs as he slid down. His shirt scraped across the ultrasensitive tips of her breasts. Grabbing his hair, she tugged him to her. Taking her hands in his, he pinned them back to the bed.
“Easy now, we’re getting there.”
Who cared about there? She wanted this, here and now. “Luke.”
Kissing and nibbling his way down her stomach, he parted her with two fingers, and blew gently.
It was an odd feeling. A hold-the-moment sensation.
Before she could figure it out, his mouth was there. Slowly and delicately, he eased her into the sensation, seeming to understand how shock had taken her down from where she wanted to be. He built her back up one lick at a time, keeping it light until light wasn’t enough, giving her more until more wasn’t enough. Pushing her thighs back against her chest, he opened her to his ravishment. And it still wasn’t enough.
“More.”
She held him to her and he laughed. She pulled his hair, and he growled. The pleasure changed and became intense, following his lead until it was no longer a feeling but a demand.
“More.” She needed more. “Harder.” She needed harder.
And he gave it to her. Sucking her clit between his lips, laving it with his tongue, pinching it between his lips, drawing it out from its hiding place, shaking it, stretching it, he zeroed in on that hard little point where her world manifested.
He gave her no choice. Taking the demand and making it his, he drove her higher, sending her to a place where she was afraid to go. But this was Luke and he wanted it, so she trusted him and let go. The explosion came hard and hot, ripping his name from her throat. Her body convulsed and jackknifed, the storm buffeting her.
And still he didn’t let her go. He just took her down to a softer place where the storm was a memory that lived in delicate kisses.
“Oh my God. Luke!”
She felt his smile. “Right here.”
His tone was yet another stroke along her lust.
“I didn’t know.”
“You do now.” She couldn’t even begrudge him the smugness in those three words.
“Yes.” She stroked his hair contentedly. “You promised me naked.”
“You promised to come.”
“Didn’t I just?”
“Not enough. The second time is always better. Trust me.”
The magic words again for him and for her.
And she did trust him, riding that wave again, this time her fingers tearing at the bedsheets, she came screaming his name. Inside and out. Just “Luke.”
“Hold on.” She didn’t hold as much as float. The aftermath of so much storm needed calm. She heard his boots hit the floor. He was undressing. She forced open an eyelid. She didn’t want to miss this.
The pants came off, then the long johns and last the shirt. He was beautiful. All broad shoulders, tight muscle and tanned skin except for there, but even there he was beautiful. His cock stood out from his body, hard and hungry. She should have been embarrassed, but maidenly modesty had no part between them. That little voice inside whispered, more.
“Can I touch you?”
“A little.”
“You touch me a lot.”
“I’ll explain how it’s different later.”
Yes. Explanations could wait. He stepped forward. She reached out, and all that maleness was in her hand, throbbing and hard.
She glanced up. “I don’t see how it’s going to fit.”
Taking her hand again, he pressed a kiss in the center of her palm before placing it back upon him. “Trust me.”
And, of course, she did because it was him and because logic said people did this every day so it had to fit. They had to fit. She couldn’t bear it if they didn’t.
Stroking her finger over the tip, she discovered a silky moisture. Bringing it to her mouth, she touched it to her tongue. He moaned and caught her hand.
Rolling the flavor across her tongue, she smiled. “Salty.”
Chuckling, he shook his head. “Come here.”
Crooking her finger back at him, she scooted back and spread her legs wide. “You come here.”
“Witch.”
“Lover.”
With a groan he settled between her thighs. It was natural to arch her back and sigh as his mouth claimed her breast. She held his head as he took from her what he needed, giving her what she desired.
It was all in balance and still not enough. His cock settled into the well of her pussy and she thought this was it. Her body tensed. Her mind braced, but nothing happened.
Opening her eyes, she saw he was looking down at her with a wry twist to his lips. “This isn’t where I turn into a raving lunatic and attack you.”
“I never thought you would.”
“You stiffened.”
“I’m nervous.”
“Why? It’s me.”
Why indeed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, just close your eyes and feel me from head to toe. From the outside in. All of me.”
With a nod, she did just that. Taking in his heat, his scent, his presence, breath to breath, heart to heart in an intimate hug. Her tension eased. This was Luke. He’d die for her. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she clung. When that point came when she knew that this was as it was supposed to be, that this was who she was supposed to be, she whispered, “I trust you.”
“Good.” He hugged her back, keeping her close until he was her world. Slowly the fire began to build. Little prickles of awareness spread again. Where his skin touched hers, fires ignited.
The ache she thought sated beyond recall pulsed between her legs. And her nipples… Oh her nipples. They burned for his touch.
And he knew. They were so in tune she didn’t even question how she knew he knew. It just was. Slipping her hands down his back, she pulled him closer. Sliding one hand behind her back, he arched her higher.
She kissed him then. The first kiss she’d ever initiated. She’d been starving for him for so long and now he was giving her free rein. Like a wildfire whipped by the winds of need, passion took over, burning through her good intentions, leaving her no choice but to run in front of it or get burned in the heat. Sweet, hot, consuming, she couldn’t get enough of his taste, of his touch. Of him.
Somewhere along the way, Luke took control.
With his hands under her knees, he spread her open. His thumb settled with delicate precision on her clit. Anticipation froze her in place. His gaze meshed with hers as tightly as their fingers. “Now.”
He took her one slow rock at a time, little by little, whispering words of encouragement, taking her past her fear until inside something gave and she was taking him, his passion, his lust, his desire. His heart. He forged deep and the shock went through her, but so did the pleasure. Intimate muscles stretched to accommodate. His thumb on her clit never stopped. The fire burned.
“Easy. Just relax. Give it time to feel good.”
He kissed her gently. She bit his lip and pulled his hair, the demon inside demanding more. She wanted to come like this, overstretched by his cock. He pulled out slowly. She could feel him watching her. She didn’t care. This was bliss, but not enough.
He forged back in a steady possession. She needed it harder. She needed him harder. She was so close, so close. He worked her clit relentlessly, tugging and pinching, while her inner walls stretched and rippled around every inch of his cock. She tried to twist away from the overwhelming need, but there was nowhere to go.
“More.” She needed all of him. Raking her nails down his arms, she begged, “Please.”
“Yes.” The guttural sound housed all the passion she could see he was withholding.
She did it again. His body shook. She clung. “Please.”
“Dammit, Josie.”
“More.” Clenching around him, milking him, she repeated her demand with her eyes, her body, her soul. “Please, Luke.”
She was watching him so intently she saw the moment his walls came down and the man she wanted grabbed her thighs and pushed them apart.
And he took her, this man she wanted, with all the intensity, all the passion he’d been holding back. Inside her rose a storm equal to his. Releasing her legs, he grabbed her hips, tilting them up. She wrapped her legs around his back and met his thrusts with her own, driving him deeper, taking them further to the place where more was reality.
His grip tightened. The intimate pain bound with the pleasure. Her clit throbbed. Her pussy swelled, squeezing him so tightly, she could feel every flex.
“Now, my darlin’. Now.”
She didn’t have any choice. Slamming deep, he ground against her pussy, rocking her clit against his groin with bruising force. Pleasure, pain, it all came together in a piercing cry as her climax rolled through her.
“Fuck yes. Take it.”
Grabbing her breasts, he pumped hard, twisting her nipples as she screamed again, riding her orgasm with his bucking hips, filling her beyond her limits with his cock and then his seed.
She held him as he held her and together they rode out the storm. When it was over and she opened her eyes, he was there, looking very pleased and impossibly smug. “Mine.”
Reaching up, she touched the smile tucked into the corner of his mouth. Somehow, there had to be a way.
“Yes.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THERE WAS NOTHING subtle about the knock on the door. Nor Luke’s response. He was out of the bed before Josie could work her way up from the blankets.
“Who is it?” he asked from the center of the room before moving to a spot three feet to the right of the door. Predawn gray infiltrated the room in random strips. The faint light glinted off the barrel of the revolver he held at the ready. Looking back at her, he put his finger to his lips before pointing to the floor. Did he want her to hide under the bed? She remembered what he’d told her about spiders. She was not hiding under the bed, but she did sidle to the edge of it. Her heart beat like a drum in her chest.
“It’s Ed. Bella’s having the baby.”
Ed? No! What if he caught her here? Her reputation would be ruined. And then. Oh my God. Bella!
Luke lowered his gun and stepped back. “I’ll be right there.”
She had a brief moment to admire the set of Luke’s shoulders and the tightness of his buttocks before he moved out of the light.
Behind the door, Ed cleared his throat. Luke looked at her. She looked at him and raised her hands. She had no idea what he wanted.
“Is there something else?” he asked, pulling on his pants.
“Tia thought Josie might like a change of clothes.”
Josie’s embarrassment, which she’d thought couldn’t get any worse, multiplied by ten. They knew? How?
With a shake of his head, Luke walked to the door. By the time his hand hit the handle, Josie had the sheet pulled over her head. The doorknob rattled. She moaned under her breath. This would be the perfect time for the floor to open up and swallow her.
“How’s Bella doing?”
“We don’t know yet. Doc says it will be a while.”
“Tell Tia thanks.”
“I will. By the way, she said, ‘Congratulations.’”
Josie groaned. Congratulations? Wonderful. Now there was pressure where before there had been none.
The door clicked closed.
From under the covers, she announced, “I am never coming out of this room.”
“That’s fine by me.”
The sheets were tugged out of her hand and pulled down below her navel. The mattress dipped as Luke sat beside her. “Even better if you don’t come out of my bed.” He leaned over her and propped himself up on his hand. “What do you think?”
He loomed over her like a big cat, a visual feast for her senses with all those sleek muscles exposed. She remembered how the sprinkling of dark hair had tickled her palms when she stroked him. Her fingers curled over the memory. Her “I think it’s a possible alternative” was a bit breathless.
“To what?”
“To my dying of shame.”
Playing with a lock of her hair, he drew it over her nipple. She shivered at the tickle, the sensitive peak draw
ing up tight. He cocked a brow at her and smiled that slow lazy smile of his. “Have you done something of which you’re ashamed?”
Had she? The softness in his expression mesmerized her. Reminded her. The reality of last night was completely opposite from what she’d been raised to believe. His calloused fingers cupped her breast. She arched into the heat. “Mmm.” Debating her feelings a second more, she came to a conclusion. “No.”
Leaning in, he kissed her softly, capturing the soft sound. “Good.”
She smiled against his lips. “But I have no idea how to brazen out being so…brazen.”
“Oh, my darlin’, that’s the easy part.” Brushing her hair away from her face, he cupped her cheek. “All you do is hold my hand.”
“And you’ve got my back?”
“Always.”
She believed him. “Thank you.”
With a playful smack on her hip, he stood and ordered, “And now, you shameless woman, you need to stop tempting me and get dressed.”
Shameless. She liked that. Almost as much as she liked the knowledge she could tempt him. She stretched, watching him watch her, enjoying the feminine power that put that heat in his gaze and that hardness in his pants. He was such a beautiful man. Like a sculpture come to life. Solid and strong with muscular shoulders that flowed to strong arms and a washboard stomach. She liked that he had just enough hair on his chest to accent the muscle beneath. She liked the way that hair skipped his stomach, but picked up below his navel to form a narrow path that disappeared into the open fly of his heavy cotton pants. She liked how he loved for her to touch him. She’d been a little overwhelmed this time, but next time they made love, she wanted to nibble and taste all of him the way he’d tasted her. Next time—
“What are you thinking?” he asked, reaching for his shirt.
“That I’d like to bite your chest.”
It just popped out. His eyes narrowed and the space between them filled with heat. He finished shrugging into his shirt. She never wanted to forget how he looked right then. Intensely masculine. Predatory. All man. Her man.
Luke's Cut Page 24