Wilde Forever (Wilde Women Book 1)

by Suzanne Halliday

  His tongue was eager to taste her. Running the flat of it from back to front he ended at her swollen nub as she writhed and moaned. Flicking the tip on her delectable clit he was careful not to send her up and over too fast. He wanted this to last as long as possible, preferably until she was mindless with desire.

  At some point, he grabbed a pillow and rolled it under her hips so her pussy was perfectly open and available as he poured the champagne bit by bit on her swelling flesh then licked it off.

  Her legs were quivering like crazy and she was moaning non-stop, her head rolling back and forth as she arched off the bed, desperate for him to finish her off. Jax wanted to use his fingers and penetrate her till she screamed, but the next time he was inside her it would be with his cock. For now, his goal was to make her come on his tongue, which was exactly what he told her.

  “My slut Queen likes it when I lick her pussy. I can taste your desire Brynn. So sweet. So wet. Are you ready to come on my tongue, baby? “

  He flicked his tongue on her clit then sucked the glorious nub into his mouth where he suckled it with strong, rhythmic tugs. She was soaring toward an orgasm, something he could feel by the way her flesh flushed with heat and throbbed. Placing his mouth on her wet opening, he lapped at her nectar and tongued her hole. It was she on the brink of a climax, but Jax was practically blind with lust. Her taste clung to his lips and coated his tongue. With one last pour of champagne he dove onto her pussy and went to town, licking, biting, sucking, groaning until she finally exploded and came in a gush that shocked him. The scream that tore from her throat was something he’d remember forever. Holding her open as she shook and cried while he sucked her clit without mercy was just about the sexiest thing he’d ever known.

  When her climax was over he groaned and grabbed his cock as the pain of being engorged for so long finally got to him. He fell on the bed next to her and shook, desperate for her mouth.

  Even though she was a bit wobbly, he heard her take a big slug of champagne before she poured a steady stream on his belly button down his abdomen and onto his raging cock. From there it all started to blur in his mind. She lapped at the fluid starting with his navel then licked his skin straight down to his staff. She took another drink from the glass then quickly slid her open lips down his cock with the champagne still in her mouth. He hadn’t expected that and nearly bucked off the mattress in reaction.

  “My Queen,” he roared with undiluted pleasure. “Suck my cock, baby. Let me feel it slide down your throat.”

  “With pleasure,” she groaned and then proceeded to take him on a mind-blowing journey to cock sucking heaven.

  Maybe it was the alcohol or even the sheer eroticism of what they were doing; he wasn’t sure, but she totally went for it, gobbling his throbbing shaft with wild abandon, massaging his balls and using her tongue on him in ways he didn’t know were possible.

  Only his desire to come inside her kept him from losing control and shooting down her throat. That didn’t however stop him from grabbing her hair and literally face fucking the shit out of her wicked mouth. It was glorious and unbridled, raw and so fucking primal, he was sure the sounds he was making came from the basest part of him.

  When Jax couldn’t take anymore and keep his sanity, he pulled her off his cock and roared, “I’m going to fuck you like a slut now my sexy Queen.” Throwing her on the bed with more force than he intended, she landed with a thud, but like the good girl he loved so much, she immediately opened her legs and undulated her hips in invitation.

  He crawled between her open thighs and thrust his fingers inside her dripping pussy, using his thumb to make her clit hard. With his other hand he stroked his hard cock and growled at her like an animal in heat. She was watching him now through shuttered eyes and writhing frantically under his touch.

  “Legs up,” he commanded. She instantly pulled her knees back as far as they would go but that wasn’t going to be enough. He wanted to be deeper inside her than he’d ever been before. Needed to sink his cock into her hard until their flesh melded.

  He grabbed her ankles and lifted them up until her calves rested on his shoulders. She whimpered as he turned his face and bit down on her skin. It was the perfect position for what he wanted. The sapphires and diamonds twinkled in the moon and candlelight urging him on. She was his love, his Queen, his beautiful, beautiful slut, and he was going to fuck her the way she deserved to be fucked.

  He kept his hands around her ankles as he guided his throbbing cock into position.

  “Beg for it, baby. Beg me to fuck you.” She grunted and whimpered, her arms flung wide, clutching the sheets.

  “Yes, yes,” she cried. “Do it Jax. Fuck me hard. I want all of you. Inside me. Please, please,” she sobbed uncontrollably.

  He lunged forward with a bellowed grunt and forced his huge shaft into her wet depths. Fuck. That first savage penetration felt fantastic. Her pussy welcomed him home and started a chain reaction of white hot arousal that fed his lust as he fucked her like an animal. It was beautiful and terrifying at the same time. He didn’t know that sort of blinding, carnal craving was even possible.

  With each powerful thrust she cried out and begged for more. Her sobs turned him inside out. His cock felt like it had a mind of its own as he hammered her ruthlessly and without mercy.

  “Fuck me,” he shouted when he felt her inner muscles squeeze his cock like a vise. Her cunt tightened up as her flesh contracted violently. “More, baby. Fuck me more my beautiful slut.”

  She started screaming his name, and her cries triggered something deep inside him. Every inch of his body seized up and his muscles began contracting in unison with hers. An orgasm built in the soles of his feet, climbing up his legs and into his spine as he thundered into her.

  He roared in a hoarse voice, “Come all over my cock, love. Come for me Brynn!”

  Her climax erupted in a blinding rush of heated cream and clutching muscles as she sobbed under his powerful hips. It was just what he needed to set off his completion. The tingling in his spine spread into his shoulders as a violent shaking overtook him. When the sensation detonated in his head, he erupted, viciously slamming his cock into her over and over. Nothing like this had ever happened before. The orgasm he had was so powerful, so all encompassing that he couldn’t stop fucking her. Not while her cunt milked him and throbbed like a motherfucker. He’d never come that much in his entire life. It felt like a spigot had opened as he emptied inside her body.

  There was nothing after that. Oblivion claimed them both. Maybe they died and drifted in each other’s arms to heaven. His last conscious thought before the darkness claimed him was that he’d never love anyone the way he did Brynn.

  THERE WAS A NOISE IN his head that started low and got louder, like the sound a helicopter made as it approached, with the distinctive whoosh-whoosh-whoosh from the blades cutting through the hot, sand clogged air. He felt weighed down by the seventy pounds of body armor and packs strapped to his body as he crouched on the hard-packed ground behind a mud wall. All around him people were shouting, some of the words in Arabic, some in English. He was in hell.

  A tremendous explosion went off, the concussive waves pushing him to the ground, clouds of brown dust littered with debris and flesh flying through the air. He heard the soldier next to him grunt, “Motherfuckers,” followed by the sound of a semi-automatic firing repeatedly.

  He peered around the edge of the wall as the other soldier boxed him in with his legs while he stood and fired off endless rounds over the top. There was more yelling and a flurry of shots firing. As the dust settled and his vision cleared, he saw a body on the ground about twenty meters away. Must be a civilian, he thought because instead of the camo style uniform worn by the U.S. troops he made out blue jeans and a white t-shirt turned grimy and brown from the dirt swirling in the air.

  His heart started beating wildly, an odd sense of freefalling panic invading his senses and then he heard it. His name being called out. What the fuck? In
the next instant he saw blond hair spread out on the ground and blood seeping into the earth.

  “Brynn!” he screamed as a dark terror grabbed him by the balls. Jesus fucking Christ. He had to get to her before she bled out. Lurching to his feet, he fired blindly as the nightmarish scene continued to unfold. Bullets were so thick in the air he could hear them as they sped past his helmet. With his M4 carbine in a death grip he fired off a series of three-round bursts as he made his way to her. With each volley, he felt the powerful recoil hit his shoulder as his fury pushed him to rain bullets on anything that moved in his frantic, desperate attempt to reach her before it was too late. “Brynn!” he screamed again as the terror washed over him and crushed his soul.

  As the last recoil ended after one final barrage, he opened his eyes reached out by reflex and grabbed the hand pushing against his shoulder. His combat training took over as he wrenched the person’s arm with a mighty yank and flipped them onto the ground, pinning them to the spot with his weight. His hand pulled back ready to pummel the threat when he heard a wild, hysterical cry split the air. “Jax!”

  He hesitated long enough for reality to seep into his system. Holy fuck. What the hell just happened? He looked down in wonder at the shaking body underneath his and found Brynn staring at him with wide, terrified eyes.

  Relief flooded his mind. Thank fucking God. She wasn’t injured and bleeding out on some Iraqi battlefield. It was just a nightmare, not the real thing. A heartbeat later that relief was replaced with soul-searing horror when he realized what was happening. If his mind hadn’t cleared when it did he would have used his fist to beat the fucking crap out of her, believing she was an insurgent intending to kill him.

  He staggered to his feet, alarm and disgust running rampant inside him and stumbled down the stairs making quickly for the bathroom where he heaved up his guts until he was empty, raw, and damned beyond salvation. Slumping helplessly to the floor with his knees drawn up, he crossed his arms on his legs, lowered his head, and sobbed uncontrollably.

  She was right there by his side, touching his head, rubbing his neck, and sobbing along with him.

  “Shhh, baby. Shhh. Everything’s alright.” He heard the anguish in her voice and felt the bile rising again in his throat. “What can I do?” she wailed. “Tell me, baby. Let me help you.”

  Jax freaked. He felt the aftermath of that motherfucking war sucking his soul right out of his body. He couldn’t breathe. The monster inside him had chosen quite the moment to come roaring to life leaving him begging for the black, numb limbo he remembered instead of this paralyzing, cold-blooded reality. Knowing he could have hurt her ripped him in two.

  “Get out Brynn,” he barked on a sob. “Run. Get as far away from me as you can.”

  She stood up but didn’t move away from his side. He could feel the tremors coming off her body. It gutted him knowing he’d caused them.

  “I mean it. Get the fuck out. Now. I need to be alone.” Alone to wrestle with his demons before they destroyed everything.

  “Okay,” she whimpered. When her hand came out to touch his head again, he flinched and pulled away. He didn’t deserve her comfort. Not right now. Not while the darkness still clung to him. A quiet sob tore from her throat at his recoil. He hung his head and watched her bare feet run from him, heard the door to the studio open then shut as she fled to safety. Away from him. Far away where the brutish devil lurking inside him couldn’t harm her.

  Brynn was hyperventilating as she frantically paced back and forth trying to wrap her mind around what had just happened. She was naked underneath his dark grey dress shirt, having grabbed the first thing she saw after following behind Jax when he staggered from the loft.

  One minute she’d been sitting cross-legged on the bed they’d shared, staring at his gorgeous body and handsome face as he slept, happily reliving every delicious, erotic moment of their date night, and the next thing she knew, he was moaning, his hands clutching the covers and his head thrashing back and forth. She knew a nightmare when she saw one so she reached out and gently pushed on his shoulder trying to break the spell and rouse him.

  Before she knew what was happening his hand shot out and grabbed hers in a death grip that almost snapped her wrist in two. Suddenly she was sailing through the air, landing with a heavy thud on the mattress and his naked body crushing hers. She cried out as he drew back a clenched fist, screaming his name in frantic terror.

  She’d held her breath until his eyes cleared and recognition seeped into his gaze only to be washed away by a horror she felt reach out to her from his soul. It was awful. When he’d run to the bathroom, hitting every wall and barrier along the way like a demented pinball, she scrambled in his wake, desperate to ease his agony. Watching him fall on his knees, shuddering violently as he vomited shook her to her innermost core.

  Brynn hadn’t wanted to leave him but his anguish had gotten through loud and clear. He needed to be alone, she understood but wasn’t in any way happy about it. In very real, stark, and terrifying terms she knew that what she’d just witnessed had everything to do with the PTSD he told her about. It killed her seeing what that really meant up close and personal. My God. How had he survived?

  She had no fucking idea what the hell to do now, but she did know she had to get dressed—and quickly. Running to the new downstairs bath, she showered with haste then sprinted upstairs into her tarp covered bedroom in search of clothes. When she’d removed the sapphires and diamonds before stepping under the water, Brynn had to fight back an avalanche of tears. What had started out so beautifully had gone tragically wrong so fast she was struggling to stay ahead of the terror. Didn’t take but a few seconds to locate some underwear, a pair of jeans, and an old concert t-shirt that she pulled on in record speed.

  After that, she returned to the kitchen and waited, but for what she didn’t know. Brewing a cup of black tea, she tried sitting at the kitchen table, but that only made her more nervous. It was like waiting for a life-changing verdict to be handed down. Pacing seemed like her best bet so she wore a path between the kitchen and the mudroom door where she could peer out at the studio across the yard. As long as his truck remained in the driveway she would stay put, but if he made a move to leave she was going to throw herself in front of the vehicle to stop him. Shit. This felt like her very own Tiananmen Square.

  An hour went by and then another. Because she’d been staying in the loft with him while her room was torn apart, everything she needed was out of her reach, including her phone. Fuck. She couldn’t even text him to see if he was all right.

  Eventually she decided to head for the bakery. There was way too much adrenalin pouring into her system. She needed to do something besides whip herself into an emotional frenzy. Nothing positive would be served by doing that. Brynn understood instinctively she needed to keep her wits about her so when he finally did reach out, she’d be ready. This was about him, not her. Five minutes of fear didn’t come close to a couple of years living that sort of terror twenty-four seven.

  He found her there a couple of hours later after she’d thrown herself into making citrus-flavored cupcakes from a batch of lemons they’d found at a roadside stand. He told her he liked anything lemony so she’d made it her mission in life to create the perfect cake and frosting, bursting with flavor, something dense and chewy the way he liked it. She’d just sprinkled lemon zest on a finished tray of perfectly sized cakes when he walked in the back door.

  Jesus. He looked like bloody hell. His skin was grey, and he hadn’t shaved. Like her he’d obviously pulled on the first thing he found, a pair of worn black jeans and an equally worn dark t-shirt. The man in black had returned, only this time the color spoke more about what was so clearly evident on his face rather than a fashion statement.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets making it painfully obvious he didn’t intend to touch her. This isn’t good, she thought. When he finally looked at her, his eyes were haunted and instead of the vibrant hazel she loved so much,
they were dark and stormy.

  “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” The pain and uncertainty in his voice was like an arrow through her heart. Oh my God, she thought. This can’t be happening. Not now.

  “I’m fine. No harm done,” she said with a worried smile. “Are you okay?”

  He shrugged and studied the floor with a deep frown on his face.

  “Remember that time you told me your inclination was to offer me a hug but you didn’t because I was too upset?”

  He nodded but still wouldn’t look up.

  “Well, that’s me right now. If you won’t let me touch you at least tell me if you’re all right.”

  The deep sigh he let out didn’t surprise her. She knew the reminder would sink in. Finally, he raised his head and let her see all the torment swirling in his soul.

  “No. I’m not all right, but I’m guessing you’d already figured that out.”

  “Let me help you,” she pleaded.

  Jax shook his head and stared her down. “You can’t this time.”

  “It’s been you telling me all these weeks that there wasn’t anything that couldn’t be fixed.” He grimaced, and she saw the sheen of tears in his eyes.

  “Is anyone dead or dying?”

  “No.”

  “Did nine-one-one need to be called?”

  He clenched his jaw and muttered, “Not his time.” She didn’t miss the heavy meaning evident in his choice of words.

  “Then whatever it is, baby—we can make it better. Together.” She’d used his own logic to frame the problem before them.

  The torment rolling off him made its way across the gulf of empty space between them and invaded her heart. Fuck this shit, she thought. He can stand there and be as stoic and closed off as he wanted, but she had a stake in what was going on.

  Brynn crossed the kitchen and put her arms around his head, drawing him into her. He was stiff as a board but didn’t flinch or pull away. She hugged him tight and pressed a kiss on his cheek. Murmuring soft and low into his ear she told him, “I love you Jackson Merrill and there’s nothing and nobody that can change that.”