Give Me All Of You

by Delka Beazer

  Josephine, Hermile, her lost childhood, it all seemed to retreat into insignificance. She no longer wanted to talk about them.

  She was left with just the need to stay like this or better yet somehow wiggle her way closer to Hunter.

  Technically he hadn’t invited her in yet. Embracing the risk, she maneuvered a leg in the opening between his powerful ones, covered by a pajama bottom.

  “Dammit Mina, stop that!” he shouted, staring down at her, his eyes warning darts in his face.

  He really didn’t want her here! Stunned by his vehement reprimand she ripped herself from him. Legs pumping she flew back down the stairs towards her car.

  She flung herself at the door, when he came crashing up behind her, somehow managing not to slam her into the car.

  “Get off me Hunter!” she yelled.

  Arms braced on either side of the car, trapping her, he glared murderously down at her. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing now?”

  She refused to be bullied by this oaf. She had her pride. “Obviously going home.”

  His eyes softened, but he muscles in his jaw flexed with impatience. “Not yet. Why did you come here tonight?”

  Trapped, she wanted to lash out at him but then who could she talk too? Mutinously she glared up at him. “My mom and I cleared up a few things that were wrong between us and I felt … I guess I thought that I needed to share it with someone.”

  His eyes grew softer. “Tell me,” he commanded.

  Mina bristled at his high-handedness but she did need someone to talk too. She relaxed against the car and began talking softly.

  “I’m honored that you wanted to share that with me Mina,” he said when she was finished.

  She remained silent, spent. She leaned forward slowly, when he showed no resistance, she buried her face in his clean shirt, inhaled the woodsy scent of skin.

  “Make me forget the past Hunter.”

  There was no reply.

  She reared back, looked into his dark eyes. He was staring down at her as if she’d just appeared out of thin air.

  “What do you mean, exactly?” he rasped, reaching out and trailing a finger across her lips. She bit the tip and watched with delight which morphed into a sweet pain when he winced and brought the wounded digit to his own mouth and sucked it sensuously.

  She shifted, peered intently at her toes in the darkness. “You know exactly what I mean, Hunter.”

  “You want me to make love to you,” he said simply.

  She nodded, unable to voice a reply.

  He released a breath, rested his chin atop her head. “Mina, Mina, Mina. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

  She stood on tip-toes, their eyes locked. “I know what I want and I know that you want me, so stop pussy-footing around and take me … if you can.”

  He cinched his eyes shut as if in pain. “Sweetheart don’t push me, please,” the last word was a groan.

  Sensing victory she reached out and cupped him, he was already hard without them even sharing a kiss. Infinitely more titillating than that was the enormity of him. She traced him from the base to the tip, her fingers lingering on the broad, sensitive head.

  Hunter let out a guttural groan that was part curse. He scooped her up as he had so many times in the past and stalked purposefully towards his house.

  She gulped, there was no turning back.

  He couldn’t wait, literally he was about to explode. Months of wanting her had brought him crashing towards this point.

  He kicked the door shut. The kitchen was directly on the right, closer than his bedroom at the back of the house. The wall would have to do. He put her up against the wall. Bent his head and devoured her waiting lips, she hungrily reciprocated his bruising pressure, panting and groaning into his mouth.

  Ecstasy, excitement, every conceivable sensation that was created for pleasure filled and brimmed over in his veins.

  He plowed her mouth with deep, hungry strokes. She’d called it upon herself, baiting and then demanding his entry.

  She whimpered and squirmed trapped as she was between the wall and him.

  He closed off all avenues of escape, silencing her murmurs with the relentless plunge of his tongue.

  His work roughened hands cupped her ass, slid her panties down her ankles. He bunched her dress around her hips.

  It took him less than a breath to free himself, without preamble, he rammed into her.

  She jerked, ripped her mouth away from his and cried out, forcing him to stop, to realize what had just happened.

  She squirmed, pushed hard against his chest. He didn’t budge or release her but he withdrew, dragging smaller cries from her.

  He stared aghast into her pinched face, a single streak of tears on each cheek. “Oh Mina. I’m sorry … I forgot,” he brushed a tender kiss along her forehead, “why didn’t you stop me?”

  She shivered in his arms and he drew her closer.

  She laughed weakly. “I didn’t know it would hurt so much.”

  He groaned in regret. “I’m a fool. You deserve so much better than I can give you.”

  She moved so that she could look into his eyes, there were no recriminations in her eyes only yearning that had been blunted by his savage behavior. “A bed would be a good start.”

  He didn’t have to be told twice.

  On the bed, he laid her down tenderly, then towered over her, his arms braced on either side of her head, his legs nestled between hers.

  Her gaze was locked on him and he found himself bound to her physically as well as mentally. He leaned forward and his shaft jerked at the soft warmth of her belly, he nudged it shamelessly across the small cluster of curls in the junction of her thighs.

  She tensed, then relaxed against the pressure. He saw with tenderness that she kept her eyes firmly fixed on his face and not below where the more unapologetic evidence of his desire lurked.

  He reached for her mouth once more. She opened up, he supped on her tongue, sliding and slipping into her moist depths. His breath grew heavy in his chest. He groaned with pleasure when he felt the first touch of her hands on his shoulders, kneading, testing the corded muscles beneath his skin.

  He slipped deeper into her mouth, his hands roamed the valleys and slopes of her hips, the long, silken thighs which inched upwards to his waist.

  He helped her along, stopped when he felt resistance, then set himself to convincing her that the intense pain she’d felt minutes before had only been for that moment, not the entirety of their lovemaking.

  He bent his head and rolled his tongue around the taut flesh of her nipples, she cried out, he pulled and sucked as much of her into his mouth as he could and yet it wasn’t enough.

  The thought unnerved him. That he wouldn’t be able to get enough of her, her taste, her feel.

  He couldn’t lose control again, not tonight.

  He savored the buds of her breasts, scraped his teeth along their tips, she started screaming again but not in pain. He repeated the action, went deeper, made her beg for more.

  She was sobbing beneath him, beseeching him to stop, yet clutching clumps of his hair with iron fists.

  He needed more. He rose up, searched her eyes, at the same time maneuvering his body to slip into hers.

  Her eyes went wide, she caught her teeth on her bottom lip. But instead of scooting away as he half suspected she wanted to, she lifted her legs higher, opened them wider around his hips.

  He resisted the urge to look down to where they would be joined, he didn’t want to shock her, perhaps next time.

  He sank slowly into her, closed his eyes as streams of pleasure opened up all over his body and tried to pull him deeper at once, his control pulled taut. He gritted his teeth and kept going, inch by inch got buried inside her.

  She whimpered a little but there was no scream, no jerking, just the tightness of her flesh being stretched and opened by him. He dropped soft kisses on her fluttering lids and she relaxed somewhat beneath him.
>
  Then he moved forward until there was nothing left between them, until she was as locked to him as his own heart.

  He caught her mouth to soothe her and began moving, gentle, shallow strokes that were meant to coax the hidden, mysterious sensations which would be gathering at her core. Delicious waves of agony lashed through him as he tortured himself in the process.

  He was sunk to the hilt, his arms quivered as he savored the tightening clench of her muscles around him. Her heat was indescribable, wave after wave of molten hotness pulsed around him, sucked him inside her body.

  It was undeniably the most exquisite sensation he’d ever experienced.

  He kept his eyes open, lest he forget her fragility and give into his own desires without first appeasing hers.

  Short thrusts awakened her sexuality and the urge they created, brought her hips rising faster to meet his. She matched his pace, then her legs began to tighten demandingly around his waist, holding him in place. He took it as tacit permission to unleash a significant amount of his strength. He retreated all the way, wringing a cry from her, then plunged downward grinding his body into hers, he did so again and again, felt her clench her thighs around him, acclimating to the rougher pace.

  He groaned as his own need came roaring back and he couldn’t hold it at bay a moment longer.

  She began moaning deep in her throat, it was no cry of pain only … pleasure, soft and unsure at first, it grew and within moments she was screaming, quaking around him, clenching him so tight that he almost came. She muttered incoherently beneath him, thrusting her hips high, demanding he appease the unbearable ache in her womb.

  He snatched a moment to preen with the heady realization that he had given her her first orgasm.

  Then there was no more time for another thought. Shudders rushed through his body as he surged unchecked into her. It happened so fast, one moment he was sure he wouldn’t last another thrust, but he kept moving until he was blindsided. The explosion caught him completely off-guard bringing him fully alive. He slammed into her and soared to his own heights, he yelled and joined her in mutual bliss.

  Chapter ten

  Was she really hiding under the sheets like a naughty child afraid of being found out?

  Mina winced in mortification, but still couldn’t bring herself to surface from beneath Hunter’s silky cotton sheets though it was morning and she needed to get home.

  She inhaled deeply, the smell of their lovemaking invaded her nostrils, spicy, dark and exhilarating. She grinned, she felt the same way.

  If she’d known making love with Hunter would do this to her, she’d have welcomed his advances a long time ago.

  So why then was she hiding, unable to face him?

  He’d disappeared into his spacious bathroom minutes ago, and she’d stayed stuck under the sheets pretending to be asleep.

  She scrunched her nose. She doubted he’d been fooled but he hadn’t disturbed her.

  Yet another thing about him which gratified her. He valued her privacy.

  Though after last night, her need for privacy around him would be severely reduced.

  The sound of water flowing strongly came through the pine door from the connected bathroom.

  Curiosity piqued, she slipped from the bed, looked around for her dress, underwear anything, but they were all gone.

  He’d cleaned up after her. Amazing.

  As much as she’d love to stay, spend the day in bed with him, she had to go home. Hermile must be frantic. She’d never stayed out except on business trips.

  She looked down at her naked body. Hunter had seen it all last night. Her face burned as she remembered the way his eyes had greedily sought every crevice of her body.

  But this was no time to be prissy. She padded over to the bathroom and pushed the door open.

  In nothing but black boxer briefs which hugged his long powerful legs, Hunter was poised over a beautiful claw-foot tub. A jar of creamy liquid was in his hand, she sniffed appreciatively as the heat from the warm water sent the scent of hibiscus blossoms through the room.

  He smiled and the tenderness he’d shown her last night made it to his eyes, but nothing could cloak the thinly suppressed hunger which her nakedness ignited in his eyes.

  He closed the lid of the jar and placed it on one of the shelves next to the tub.

  “Just in time,” he said.

  “For what?”

  He raised a derisive brow, “for your bubble bath of course.”

  The air whooshed out of her tummy. She struggled to keep a straight face. “I don’t take bubble baths.”

  Hunter snorted, disbelief etched into his face, “every woman has taken a bubble bath.”

  “Not me.”

  “Well, here’s a first,” he walked over to her.

  She held out a hand to keep him and his imposing chest at bay, her eyes implored him, “I really need to go home.”

  “You need to soak more.”

  “Why …” her voice trailed off as the telling reason dawned in his eyes, her face went up in flames.

  “I’m fine, no need to soothe anything away,” she stammered with as much dignity as she could muster.

  A determined look came into his eyes, she squeaked but his hands were already at her waist tugging her insistently forward. “You will take a tub before you leave my house.”

  She followed reluctantly, lifted a leg, gasped when Hunter’s hand closed on her knee, his fingers skimmed the sensitive flesh under it. She shuddered and closed her eyes.

  “Stop that or you’ll leave the tub sorer than when you came in,” he warned.

  If he could manhandle her then she didn’t see any reason why she shouldn’t torture him, “how do you propose to do that?” she pretended to study his lean, bronzed face critically. “I doubt a man of your advanced years could keep up with someone a decade younger.”

  Hunter’s eyes flashed a feral warning, he growled and before she knew it she’d been deposited into the tub without ceremony, a small tidal wave splashed over the porcelain sides.

  She yelped but stayed put in the inviting embrace of the water. Neither cold or hot it immediately soaked into her body. She sighed and kept a challenging eye on Hunter who had squatted down beside her, watching her but making no move to join.

  He turned to the shelves and snatched up a sponge.

  Her eyes widened in alarm, she reached for the sponge but he neatly evaded her grasp. She huffed indignantly, clasped her hands across the jutting tips of her breasts which peaked above a swarm of fat bubbles.

  “Give me that,” she ordered, flashing him a dirty look, “I assure you I’m old enough to wash myself.”

  “Are you sure?” he teased his eyes aglow with an unholy light, “if it’s one thing we older folks have mastered it’s the intricacies of a deep soak, creaking bones and all.”

  She grounded her teeth, “okay … okay, I’m sorry, now give me that damned sponge and leave.”

  Hunter made a tsk tsk sound at her. Ignoring her demand he dipped the sponge into the water and began washing her.

  He started at her knees and worked his way slowly up her leg.

  Instantly anger left her, replaced by a hot, impatient itch.

  Mesmerized, she watched his hand as he created a rich lather of tiny bubbles along her leg. Everywhere his fingers brushed brought her nerve endings alive. Her breathing started to sputter as she grew warm, her gaze fixed on his hand which inched its way lazily towards the dark cluster covering her womanhood. Even beneath the water, she felt her body swelling, readying itself for him again.

  Should she stop him? Why?

  It wasn’t as if she didn’t want him to touch her there.

  She willed herself to relax against the cool back of the tub and wait, eyes closed.

  The slide of his fingers came closer, nipped at the small gathering of hair which barely covered her femininity. She held her breath, waited, then maddeningly he retreated towards her other leg and began the same climb.
/>   It was like crashing back to earth without a parachute. She opened her eyes and glared darkly at him.

  He was waiting. He grinned unrepentantly, then his eyes became serious. “You will marry me tomorrow.”

  Her desire drained away as if it had never been. She bolted up, sending further streams of water splashing onto the tiled floor.

  “I can’t ...” she looked wildly at him, “it’s too soon,” she finished lamely.

  Hunter sat back on his hunches, the sponge in hand.

  Why couldn’t he just be satisfied with making love to her for now? Why demand marriage so soon?

  His eyes glinted sharply. “I’ve waited long enough Mina. A year in fact. I won’t keep waiting.”

  She recoiled from the sting of his words. Her eyes smarted, further infuriating her. She wouldn’t cry over a man she barely knew!

  “Then don’t,” she snapped.

  Hunter turned away, giving her a wondrous glance at the beautifully corded muscles in his back and the tautness of his buttocks beneath his underwear.

  “Mina, I want you and after last night you can’t deny that you want me also” he threw her an accusatory glance over his shoulders, “I’ve been truthful about my intentions from the start-”

  “Stop.” Her brain worked furious for an escape.

  Yes! Yesterday at the pond he’d mentioned a complication. Something that had held him back from making love to her then.

  “What complication were you talking about yesterday at the pond?” she demanded.

  Hunter froze, the sharp bones of his face became rigid. “That’s none of your concern.”

  She grasped at the chance to avoid his trap, she stood up and water streamed from her body down her legs. Stepping out of the tub, she moved past him towards the door, uncaring that she was causing puddles all across the tiles. He remained unmoving.

  “I can’t marry someone who hides things from me,” she announced triumphantly.

  His mouth curled into a scowl. “What if it’s for your own good?”

  She’d had it with the men in her life trying to manipulate and twist her to their will. “You don’t understand, do you? I won’t under any circumstances marry you if I can’t trust you.”