Conquered

by Angel Payne

  “I know that, Sam.”

  “I—I have the highest respect for you, Jennifer Josephine.” Which he might have indulged a good skoosh of laughter about, if his intention wasn’t purely serious. Even so, he had to be the world’s biggest wanker, tryin’ the fuckin’ line on the woman he adored while her mouth was makin’ best friends with his cock through his zip.

  “All right.” She threw away a bit of her coy pout, instead makin’ room for an irritated moue. “So…you don’t want to, Sir Galahad?”

  Well, that made his scowl hellishly easy. “Galahad is fictional. And English.”

  “Okay. So, you don’t want to, Sir Robert the Bruce?”

  He caressed her cheek, unfurling an approving smile. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Hmmm. No.” And the minx was back again—now taking the initiative to twist the button beneath her mouth free. “You certainly didn’t.”

  At once, he felt his smile drop. Bloody hard for a man to keep grinnin’ when a woman had her face an inch from his crotch and was workin’ down the zip that would free his throbbin’ tadger.

  And was lickin’ her way through his short and curlies along the way.

  “Jenny. By everythin’ that’s fuckin’ holy…”

  “Psssshhh.” She pushed the zipper all the way down to its base. That aligned her fingertips with his baws—a fact she took full, naughty advantage of. “There’s nothing holy about you, Sam Mackenna. And I want to explore it all.”

  He couldn’t manage anythin’ more than a taut groan as she stroked his tender sack, taking sweet little nips at the flesh just beneath. She slipped her other hand up beneath his shirt, roller-coastering her fingertips over the ridges of his abs before descending her mesmerizin’ touch again. Her nails scraped into his skin, following the seam of muscle down into his thrummin’ crotch, where she played with the nest from which his cock sprang like a proud pine in a dense forest. But not for long. She trailed her hand upward again, and this time Sam helped her by shucking the shirt all the way. He rolled onto the bed, sighing roughly while letting her caress and claim him in any manner her pleasure took her.

  Holy God.

  Her mind-blowin’ pleasure…

  His whole body quaked as her hands came back to center. This time, she flowed her touch up and over his cock, rubbing him from balls to crown with steady, sure exploration. Along the way, she’d let a finger or two wander off from the straight line of her hand to follow the jagged curves of his veins, which pulsed at his skin with increasin’ demand.

  “You’re so beautiful,” she breathed.

  “You’re so incredible,” Sam whispered back.

  “You make me feel powerful.”

  “And you make me feel helpless.” His voice cracked on the declaration, but he didn’t care. He hiked his hips, seeking her touch with the brazen need of a mongrel craving an ear scratch. Only this was more than an itch. This was raw, relentless, ragin’ need. “Don’t stop. For the love of fuck, don’t stop.”

  She didn’t, thank all that was holy—but after she teased and tormented him longer than he should have allowed, Sam finally twisted his hand against her scalp again. With another yank, he snapped her head back until it was possible to sweep the brunt of his gaze over her. She took his breath away. Her stare was glazed with lust, and her chest was pumping with full breaths. But he wasn’t prepared for the moment she parted her lips and then stuck her tongue between them, as if starving for every drop of the white drops that burst from the throbbin’ slit at his erect tip.

  “So what will I say now, darlin’?” His voice was just as hot and molten as the liquid pearls on his dick. “You know, don’t you?”

  “I can hope.” She whispered it as soon as he jerked his hips again, dealin’ as best he could with the white rockets burstin’ out his cockhead. He never knew he had this much to give in precome. Already, he wondered what this orgasm was going to be like. Jesus Christ, he already needed to come…so fuckin’ bad…

  And damn it if the gorgeous woman, with her uncanny erotic ESP, didn’t know that—and fully capitalize on it.

  By keepin’ her gaze firmly locked to his…

  While dippin’ her mouth back in and formin’ her pretty lips over the top of him.

  Just the top.

  That was enough.

  More than enough.

  Sam growled. Long and low and hard. Used his other hand to shove his jeans down to his thighs. Thank God he’d gotten hopeful after his shower and chosen to go commando. With all of his sex officially free, his cock bobbed up stronger and stiffer than ever, the tip weeping all over again with the evidence of his need. And aye, he had even more precome to spare as soon as Jenny glided her nose down to his base, inhalin’ with open greed and appreciation. Her own scent curled around his senses too, all sugar and wind and woman, fillin’ him until he felt damn near like a god.

  She breathed him in once more before adding the sorcery of her mouth back to her slow, sweet worship. With wet, adoring nips, she made her way back up his steel-hard stalk. With a breathtakin’ sigh, she closed herself all the way back over his tip again. Then out came her tongue—just the tip—working all the way into his slit, cleaning out his juices until a whole galaxy of stars invaded Sam’s brain as well.

  “Jenny. Oh, my sweet and fuckin’ sexy little mouse. Your mouth. Your incredible, hot mouth…”

  “Not as incredible as how you taste.”

  Though she pulled up to give him the words, she didn’t stray her lips from his flesh for a second. The vibrations of her words against her tip…and then the way she finished them, adding the one and only word that could completely undo him…

  “Sir.”

  Fuck.

  He was a god.

  And now needed to prove it—by spreading his grip along the back of her head and guiding her mouth into the most perfect position possible…

  Aye…

  “Open your mouth, Jenny.”

  Ohhhh, aye…

  “Wider. Let me see your tongue.”

  What you do to me, lass. How you fulfill so many of my fantasies.

  “Perfect.” He worked his cock along the center of her tongue. “So warm. Fuck. So soft. Jenny. Jenny. Your mouth!”

  He bellowed it as she closed completely over him, lettin’ out a long and lush moan with her eager swoop of control. At once, any remainin’ drops in his slit were hers. His whole head was hers. His balls were hers. His fuckin’ soul was hers…

  His veins beat against her tongue. His flesh swelled against her lips. His hips clenched as he struggled to ease into her slowly, but her impatient mewls urged him otherwise. “Don’t be careful,” Sam dictated from locked teeth. “For fuck’s sake, don’t be tender.”

  Because I’m not goin’ to be.

  He thrust into her a little harder. A little more. Tightened his grip on her head as the demand in his cock beat louder, seeking the perfect heat at the very back of her throat.

  “Breathe,” he urged. “Through your nose. That’s it, sweet girl. Take me deeper. Deeper.”

  And then he was there. Stabbin’ all the way into her heat, fuckin’ her mouth as completely as he could. Consumin’ her with all the lust in his body, the desire in his spirit, the need in his senses. But incredibly, the woman groaned as if she craved more. She dived her hands beneath him, grabbing the spheres of his ass with lusty vengeance. With every lunge he gave her with his dick, she dug harder into his glutes. And aye, it began to hurt. A lot. But God help him, he didn’t want her to stop. The jabs helped him hold back, drawing out the exquisite ecstasy of this union even longer.

  “Aye,” he encouraged her between some of his harsh, heaving gasps. “Make it hurt, my beauty. Harder. Harder.”

  As she groaned and mewled and slurped around his cock, he forced his eyes to crack open just a little. Just enough to behold his cock invadin’ her mouth and the shimmering puddle of her saliva at his base.

  “Damn,” he grunted. “Damn, damn, damn, Jenny.” Wh
en she responded with another lusty little sigh, he continued, “My darlin’ a leanbh. You love this, don’t you? You want me takin’ your mouth like this, with every inch of my cock?”

  “Mmmmm hmmmm.”

  Luscious little minx. He’d never been happier the angels had handed him a girl who devoured sexy romances like candy—and had the passion and talent to service his cock like it was a stick of the same molded sugar. Jesus, she was even well-read enough to know that repeatin’ the exclamation would stimulate him even more if she hollowed her cheeks at the same time. But not even that little trick affected him as profoundly as the stare she lifted up to him as she did. A look that conveyed so much more than how deeply this was turnin’ her on.

  It was a look of spot-on, well-rooted, take-this-and-deal-with it confidence.

  Clarity in how sexy she was. How beautiful she was. How worthy she was.

  All the sexiness and gorgeousness and worth that he’d seen in her from the very start.

  Perfection.

  She was sheer, incredible perfection.

  Exactly the incentive he needed to combine a growl and hiss into the same blissful eruption from his lips—just before increasing his pace into hers.

  “Yes,” he praised. “That’s it, Jenny. Take me deep. Take me down your throat.” But as she closed her eyes, focusing on doing just that, Sam tilted her head back, compelling her stare back open. “Stay with me, mo muirnín. Watch me, my darling. Look at every shred of desire I have for you. Every dirty, wicked thought I have about you. You’ll be seein’ it all, Jenny. You’ll be lookin’ at every way I adore you…every way I need you.”

  I need you.

  The words drilled through his body, pulsin’ up into his sex…and all of his soul. Because that wasn’t an idiotic idea, right? Hotwirin’ one’s cock to their heart? What could possibly go awry with that…

  Except everythin’?

  But there was the not-so-small matter of keeping her gaze locked to his. Of watching every raw, wild emotion across her face as he swelled and thickened and hardened inside her. As the stabs of his cock tore new moans past her lips. As her eyes darkened to the shade of green smoke, so full of her own desire and dominion that he had no choice but to let her into all the places in him where the thickest shadows of his own soul still thrived…

  Confirming one unalterable truth.

  Jenny Thorne really was his soul mate.

  And selkies really lived. And the monster of Loch Ness was really lurkin’ around in the muck of that place.

  Soul mates only existed in fuckin’ fairy tales. And now that he’d reminded himself thoroughly of it and she didn’t have to worry about the helicopter morphin’ back into a pumpkin, he refocused on enjoyin’ every moment of this. Only this. Every drop of its erotic magic. Every thrill of its growing arousal. And aye, he made sure Jenny beheld it too. The profound pleasure she brought him. The welcomin’ heat she gifted to him. All the ways she opened him back up to how breathtakin’ life could be.

  How happy his life could be.

  That was when the truth of all this struck.

  She made him feel like a god…

  Because she was a goddess.

  And for right here, right now…his goddess.

  He just couldn’t get too attached to the feeling.

  An affirmation that couldn’t have been better timed—for as it struck, he summoned the fortitude to pull away from her, draggin’ in shaky breaths as he reached his hands back through his hair. Already anticipatin’ how she’d fire off a puzzled pout, he was also ready with a laugh-choke combo that did little for his air supply but a great deal for her vampy little grin.

  As he rolled off the bed, shoving back his hair once more, he shook his head and cleared his throat. “Do not move,” he was finally able to order with convincin’ dominion, pointing a mocking finger at her. “I’ll be right back. A muckle manwhore like Frank has got to have one box of condoms in this place.”

  So much for dominion. The second he muttered it, Jen burst out with a definite giggle, utterly tramplin’ on the gist of his order even if she complied in theory. But he couldn’t help his charmed chuckle as she waggled a jokin’ finger of her own and then ordered, “You. Gorgeous male-type specimen. Get your finer-than-fine ass back here.”

  As he slid back onto the bed, she busied herself with reachin’ for her purse. The next second, she pulled out her little makeup bag—and from there, she drew out a foil packet emblazoned with the Nyte’s logo. “Courtesy of the wedding salon ladies’ room.” She offered it up in triumph. “The one hotel in Vegas that really sticks to the marketing slogan.”

  Sam flashed a wide smirk. “‘What happens in Vegas…’”

  “Something along those lines.”

  He jumped one of his brows. “And I had you marked as the lotion pilferin’ type.”

  She pouted. “They were free. And they’re super pretty.”

  “I don’t care if you held up the attendant and shot out the security cams.” His voice was as rough as his jaw, which clenched in all the best ways as he tore the foil open with his teeth. Before he pulled out the latex, he nodded toward the center of the bed. “Get naked for me, beauty. I want to see all of you—right there.”

  She rewetted her lips. And then rasped, silkier and sexier than he’d ever heard from her, “Yes, Sir!”

  No point in tellin’ her how that sweet acquiescence affected him. The evidence jutted straight out as she returned to an air of cute and coy, unbuttoning her blouse with sensual little tugs. The little temptress kept up the flirtation after removing her bra, trailing both hands over her erect nipples, pulling until they became firm berries of arousal. Only after Sam let out a low rumble did she finally say, in a teasing murmur, “But I’ve been at work all day. I’m probably covered in old sweat.”

  She was rewarded with the gulp that corded Sam’s neck…and the darker danger in his eyes. “And soon you’ll be drenched in new sweat. Now get those pants off. I need to see every fuckin’ inch of you.”

  His tone brooked no more dawdling. Wisely, she didn’t. But just as Jen finished removing her pants and boots and then scrambled to the center of the bed, he made her freeze—with his astonished growl.

  “What the bloody—”

  Jen pushed up from the pillows, alarm painted across her face—until she spied the reason for Sam’s outburst. At once, her face changed—as she pressed her lips together, clearly tryin’ to hold herself in from wild giggles. “Well, that’s certainly…keeping it different.”

  “Different?” Sam gestured at his erection with a sharp sweep. The condom was stretched tightly over his wang, from the juncture of his heavy balls to the proud crown at the top. Although now that peak was…

  Decorated.

  Unfortunately, there was no better way to phrase it. The rim between his head and frenulum was accented with a ring of bright-blue latex, serving as the base for a row of small rubber spikes. The resulting look was certainly some bampot’s idea of a little exotic mixed with a lot of erotic.

  He wasn’t that bampot.

  “Well, at least it’s a great color.” Jen attempted a helpful smile. “Bolt blue!”

  Sam was ready to maintain his answerin’ scowl—until the woman brought up one of his favorite American heroes. He didn’t have many, mostly because there were plenty to idolize in Scotland and they tended to kick ass the world over, but Reece Richards’ alter ego was an American legend who surpassed boundaries of geography, topography, and nationalities.

  Because of that, his mouth started twitchin’ too. How could he resist his adorable little woman, with her eyes twinklin’ at him, her dimples flashin’ for him, and her naked curves callin’ to him? And fuck him, she was Team Bolt on top of bein’ a Star Wars geek and a sassy little kinkster.

  He’d hit the cosmic jackpot.

  And was so thankful for it, he almost stopped right there and mouthed a long thank you to the Almighty.

  Instead, he saved up the gratitude for
the heat in his eyes while prowlin’ closer to her, scootin’ up the mattress one steady knee at a time. “You really like it, sassy mouse?”

  She returned his heated stare with wide, watchful eyes, as if he were a tiger that had suddenly slipped its chain. He could really live with that analogy—and showed her so with a stealthy slide of his right hand around her left ankle.

  She barely held back a gasp as he tightened his fingers, sending visible goosebumps up the length of her leg. “It’s…it’s…errrmmm…”

  “What?” He swung in, clasping her other ankle.

  She let out a long, velvety mewl as he glided his fingertips up the back of her calves. “Kind of…exciting.” She rolled beneath him like a feline in her own right, her nude curves so feral and graceful, responding to all his caresses with matching flows of movement that captivated and awakened him. Ignited and inspired him…

  “Excitin’ sounds very, very fine.” He skated his fingers behind her knees. Dipped his head to nip at the insides of her thighs. “Oh aye. So fine.”

  “Mmmmm.” Her intention seemed to be a seductive hum but came out more as a strangled choke. And that was very fine as well. “Yes. I think ‘exciting’ could serve us very…very…oh!”

  Two more kisses, higher on her thighs, made her squeal and shudder. And rendered him officially in heaven. Bollocks on the fact that he was capable of rainin’ fire on an enemy from ten thousand feet. This was the only incineration he was interested in ever dolin’ again—from two inches of altitude, where the damage could be gauged in this goddess’s heated twists, tantalized shivers, and passionate sighs. And what about hittin’ the ultimate target? That was the best part of all: the buck of her spread thighs, fully exposin’ all the pink, wet glory of her plumped, ready sex, just waitin’ for the full impact of his hard and achin’ missile…

  “Sam! Enough teasing, you bastard! I need you!”

  Oh, now he had a new favorite part.

  The “provoking incident” of her “return fire.”