by Renee Reeves
At a loss for words he tunneled his hands into the heavy fall of hair on either side of her head and pulled her forward for a kiss. Her mouth opened, slowly and shyly at first, then became more confidant as he deepened the kiss and slid his tongue in to touch hers. Her hands slid around his waist to rest low on the middle of his back and briefly he broke contact with her mouth.
"That's a tempting offer, sweetheart. You sure you want to make it?"
* * * *
Morgan's nerves were stretched tight with anticipation as he rounded the front of the truck and opened the driver's side door. She could have called a halt to this whole thing at any time and she knew he would have driven her back home, maybe not cheerfully, but he would have done it nonetheless. But she didn't want to; tonight was about experiencing that ultimate act of trust with a man she really, truly desired.
She had offered this moment to him and couldn't back out now. Wouldn't back out now. He had already shown her how much pleasure he could give her and this was just naturally the next step.
So when he climbed into the cab and gruffly stated that they were going back to his place she did not argue.
Nick cleared his throat, drawing her attention as he carefully maneuvered the truck down the steep, shadowy mountain road. “I know you're going to be nervous, Morgan, and that's okay. What I don't want is for you to be scared. Fear and what we're going to be doing have no place together.” He tapped a finger on the steering wheel, his expression serious. “But I do need to know if there's anything ... specific ... about it that scares you."
Morgan's stomach clenched. Cold and harsh the memories of the times she had lain beneath Richard came flooding back. She remembered the times she had bit her lip to hold in the cries of pain he so loved. And then there were the times when she had had to pleasure him orally. A wave of nausea hit as she remembered him coming in her mouth, gagging her with his hot semen. She pressed a hand to her stomach. Deep breaths...
"Morgan?"
Deep breaths...
"I—” she sucked in a deep breath and swallowed against the bile. “Everything. I-I hated everything about it.” Morgan squeezed her eyes shut and curled her hands in her lap. “It always hurt; he always wanted it to hurt because that's what gave him pleasure.” She heard Nick stir in his seat, heard his harsh indrawn breath and forced her eyes open, focusing on the darkness beyond the windshield. “And he would ... he would make me ... use my mouth ... on him. It was disgusting. I always felt so dirty afterwards, I could never scrub myself clean enough.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, “I still feel dirty, tainted. Please ... I need you to take away the dirt Nick. I don't want to live with it any more."
Silence reined throughout the roomy cab and Morgan slid a glance at the man beside her. Nick's jaw was locked, a muscle jumped visibly under his dark skin and there was an unnatural stillness in his big body. His fingers on the steering wheel flexed and unflexed as if he were holding himself back from strangling something. Morgan's lip slipped between her teeth and she swallowed uneasily, wondering if she had made a mistake, told him too much. But then he must have become aware of her gaze because his body shifted and relaxed and in the next instant her chin was cupped in his palm and she was staring into glittering indigo eyes. He moved and she flinched, unable to help the instinctive reaction, but all she felt were his lips touching hers, lingering for a moment and then sliding across her cheekbone to her temple.
"I'll erase every stain or mark that bastard ever put on you, Morgan.” His whisper stroked her ear, “And I swear you'll never feel dirty again."
* * * *
Morgan listened to the gravel crunching under the tires as they followed the curves around until the barn and Nick's house came into view. Security lights came on as they passed the barn and pulled up in front of the brick ranch house. Everything was dark and quiet, as if the whole world had gone to sleep, leaving just the two of them. The silence closed in on her, rubbing against her nerves, making her even more aware of Nick and exactly what she intended to do with him.
Make love. Here. Tonight.
"Um ... Nick?"
"Yeah, sweetheart?” He put the truck in Park and cut the engine.
"What—” her throat closed up as unbidden an image of Nick, muscular and naked and over her prone body, flashed in her brain. He planned to erase every stain and mark from Richard ... Morgan swallowed tightly and forced the rest of the words out, “What about Jake? Won't he, uh ... be here?” She looked at the house in front of her, only the porch light was lit and each window was black, evidencing no signs of activity inside.
Nick shook his head, “No. We each like space to ourselves so Jake has his own house behind the barn. Don't worry, we'll have total privacy."
Total privacy. Perspiration slickened Morgan's palms, making her grip on the door handle clumsy. Hands shaking she wiped them against her clothing and tried again. This time she managed to get the door open and carefully stepped down out of the high truck, putting most of her weight on her good leg, not wanting to freak her other one out before things even got started. The slamming of Nick's door made her jump. Morgan wrapped her arms around herself and watched him come around the front of the truck towards her. He stopped in front of her, used one hand to push her door closed and then pulled her trembling body into the warm circle of his arms, snuggling her up against his chest.
"You're all nerves right now aren't you?” He rested his chin on the top of her head and just held her. Wondering at his intuitiveness she nodded against his chest. His heart thudded slow and steady in her ear. Long moments passed while he held her. Gradually her raw nerves began to relax, lulled into submission by the feel of his hard warm body against hers, especially since he seemed quite content to just stand there all night and hold her.
But it couldn't last ... she knew that. He might have more patience—a lot more patience than any man in her experience, but he was still just a man. And she had offered him tonight.
Morgan drew in a shaky breath and pushed her face into his chest, squashing her nose into his shirt, breathing deeply, letting his earthy, fresh scent comfort her nerves. He began playing in her hair, shifting his fingers through the long strands much like he had just last night. The unhurried motion soothed and distracted calming the chaos inside her.
"Morgan ... I,” he hesitated, “I care about you.” One rough fingertip touched her cheek and stroked softly over her cheekbone like her skin was fragile silk. “I care about you more than any other woman I've known.” His deep, rumbling voice stirred the delicate hairs at her temple while his stroking finger left trails of fire across her mouth, her jaw, her neck. “I don't want you to feel embarrassed or ashamed by anything we do."
He shifted against her, his lower body brushed against her stomach and Morgan's eyes widened in surprise. His arousal was a thick obvious ridge straining against the front of his jeans, and pushing into her belly. Soon it would be pushing into her.
A searing bolt of sensation shot through her—anxiety or anticipation, she didn't know which—but right on its heels was definite arousal. Her skin grew warmer. Her nipples hardened into tight peaks while her breasts swelled, plumping beneath her shirt, making her bra feel overly tight and itchy. Even her vagina ached. Surreptitiously Morgan clenched her thighs together, knowing that her body was readying itself, becoming wet in preparation of welcoming this man. She could feel the evidence pooling between her thighs, dampening her panties. She pictured herself in his bed, accepting him as she had done so many times with Richard...
But this time she wanted it ... her body wanted it. Her cautious mind might continue to say, ‘wait just a minute, are you crazy?’ But her body couldn't lie.
Hope bloomed in the pit of her stomach, suppressing the acid of six years of horrific memories. Nick was not going to humiliate her and he would not abuse her, she knew that deep down to her gut. The knowledge freed her last little bit of restraint. She reached up and cradled his jaw, tugging his head down, loving how the bristl
y texture of his stubble scraped her palms.
Pressing her open mouth against his, she whispered, “Its cold out here, Nick. Take me inside and make me warm."
He took her hand, his burning gaze swallowing her whole. He gave a gentle tug and without any extra urging she followed him across the driveway and into the darkened house.
Nick didn't release her hand once inside but held her close to him as he led her through a small front hallway and into a large living area. He flipped a switch on the wall and a low light courtesy of a table lamp brightened the room. A large comfortable looking leather sofa sat sideways beside the fireplace, situated so one could sit and enjoy the fire while watching the outside world through the huge picture window in front of it. There were two heavy-looking western saddles sitting on the floor below it and various other items of horse tack hanging on the walls or laying on the floor.
Nick's arms came around her from behind and he snuggled her against him. Morgan's heart leapt into her throat.
"You're trembling.” His nose nuzzled her ear; his teeth nipped her earlobe. She gasped, arching her head against him and his lips slid down her exposed throat.
"Oh...” The blood in her veins thickened and coherent thought left her for a few seconds while her body focused solely on the man behind her. She felt him smile against her skin and then his grip loosened.
"Why don't I make a fire?” He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. Morgan wondered if he knew the goosebumps had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. “It's chilly enough and watching the flames might help you relax. I know it does me,” he said as he moved away from her, going over to a pile of logs beside the fireplace. She wondered how often he sat in front of the fire, brooding and staring into the flames.
She watched the muscles in his broad back bunch and shift under his shirt as he loaded several logs into the fireplace's darkened mouth. Some crumpled paper, the flair of a match and soon bright yellow flames began to appear around and between the logs. The dry wood cracked and whistled, casting dancing shadows throughout the low-lit room. Nick stood up and turned to face her, crossing his arms and leaning a shoulder against the mantle. He looked so big and dangerous, his body painted light and dark by the flames, that Morgan swallowed nervously and took a step backwards. One black eyebrow cocked up and he straightened, unfolding his arms.
"I'm sorry...” she said, “its not you—"
"I know,” he interrupted, “and I understand. That's why we're here."
His dark eyes pierced her, willing her to believe him and Morgan swallowed past the tight lump in her throat. Through the huge picture window she saw the security lights come on at the barn and, knowing she was being a coward and only putting off the inevitable, she went to look outside. Clasping her hands together in front of her she stood before the window, thinking how wonderful it must be to stand here during winter and watch the snow fall outside, painting everything with its gentle white kiss. As she stared the small form of a cat appeared at the corner of the barn.
"That's Boo. She hunts about this time each night.” She jumped slightly when Nick's arms came around her from behind. For such a big man he moved very quietly and she thought it must come from working with frightened horses. He pulled her back against him, molding her back to his front. “Except of course when it rains. Then she's snuggled up in the loft."
Morgan smiled at him over her shoulder before turning her attention back to Boo. The moist tip of his tongue stroked the sensitive area where her neck and shoulder met. She shuddered, breathing hard while a mix of hot and cold chills rose on her skin. She watched, his image reflected in the glass, as one of his hands slid up from her stomach to rest just below her breast, almost cupping its weight, and she let her head fall back against his chest in surrender. She felt strange inside, burning and almost breathless, as if he were stealing her oxygen, absorbing it into himself and the only way to get it back was through his touch.
"Come by the fire,” he commanded softly, brushing her cheek with his lips and nipping the tender corner of her mouth, “you're still shivering."
She let him lead her to the sofa. Her skin, warmed by the blazing fire, lost its chill as she settled into the plush well-used leather. A tremor ran through her as Nick knelt down in front of her legs and cupped her knees in his hands. Inch by inch he coaxed her legs apart until he was settled directly between them with her thighs bracketing his ribs. He was so close that she could see the black pinpoints of his irises and herself, looking pale and uncertain, mirrored in them. He smiled, a brief flashing of even white teeth and then he leaned forward, pressing her back against the cushions with his hands on her waist. Morgan's heart stuttered in her chest and she felt her shirt raise, inching up her body, baring her stomach. Like two lovers cool air caressed her skin on the left while warm air licked on the right.
Nick's mouth landed on her quivering stomach where he began to trace small designs on her skin with his lips and tongue. Back and forth, swirls, feather-light licks, long slow lapping strokes ... all bombarding and confusing to her senses. She heard herself moan and whimper and couldn't stop from arching against him, pleading with her body for more. She sighed; gripping his head to hold him to her while his tongue rimmed her belly button.
After what had to be an eternity of torture he lifted his mouth and caught her wrists, intertwining their fingers. Eyes darkened to black midnight burned into hers. “I promise you Morgan,” he said solemnly, “nothing but heaven tonight."
He sounded sure of that, positive in fact, but still her stomach muscles tightened. Determined not to give fear leverage again she met his eyes and squeezed his fingers with hers. “After my marriage,” she whispered to him, “I never thought I'd find a man I could trust again."
He stared down at her, his deep blue eyes narrowed and shadowed by thick black lashes. Something, some emotion she couldn't catch flashed through those beautiful eyes and then a smile tilted the corner of his mouth. His hands came up to cup her face, thumbs stroking her skin. “You've found him now, sweetheart."
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Chapter 24
Nick released her long enough to pull his shirt off and toss it on the back of the sofa. Immediately her wide eyes went to his naked chest and the tip of her pink tongue came out to wet her bottom lip. It was purely an unconscious gesture, but it made his blood several degrees hotter. It might have been a long time since he had been in any type of relationship with a woman, but he recognized desire when he saw it.
Her eyes crept up from his chest to meet his gaze. He smiled and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Trust me, Morgan.” He shifted to his back on the floor and pulled her, kneeling, to straddle his abdomen. Her hair slid forward in thick silken waves to cover them both. Her skirt rode up above her thighs, allowing him a glimpse of silky pale pink panties. Immediately she tried to shift off of him but he flashed a quick grin and put his hands on her waist. Gently but firmly he held her still on top of him. “No, don't be afraid. Sit on me—fully. Get used to it. You won't hurt me."
He traced her ribcage and sternum with his thumbs, feeling her heart pounding under heated skin. He watched her as she wiggled on her knees, jerking a groan out of him as her butt shifted and then settled on the length of his rigid cock still trapped inside his jeans. Something like a hiss came out of her and then her warm hands were drifting over his abs in a light caress, his muscles tightened in response and he saw the wonder on her face as she touched him. Nick closed his eyes, hands clenched on her waist, ready to rip open his jeans and shove himself inside her as he had fantasized about so many times.
Instead he gritted his teeth, reined in his urges and said softly, “You're beautiful, Morgan...” He stroked up her stomach, his fingers flitting over the cups of her bra and then back down. Gentling her. “So soft and silky. I love putting my mouth on you, tasting you.” Watching her expression he raised her shirt, higher and higher until her lacy bra was bare. “No,” he said when she tried to tug it b
ack down, “don't try to hide."
Her knuckles were white on her shirt. Golden eyes, wary yet wanting, stared at him. He tugged at the fabric, feeling her grip give a little.
"You trust me, don't you Morgan?” he persuaded. “You must trust me because you're sitting on me ... and my cock, while I'm half-naked."
She bit her lip, shifted against him, eyes widening when she felt his cock jerk in his jeans.
"You trusted me enough to let me in your house the other day, to let me lay you across your bed and put my tongue on the most delicate part of you until you came against my mouth.” She turned such a bright red that if a blush could burn Nick knew his skin would be seared off his bones. He grinned at her dazed expression and quickly whipped her shirt off over her head, tugging until it was free of the length of her hair.
"You have the most amazing hair.” He slid his hands through the heavy mahogany locks, dragging several thick pieces of it over her shoulders and arranging them so that they framed her breasts and trailed down over her stomach. “I've dreamed of seeing you like this, with your hair surrounding you like a dark cloud, for a long time.” If only she were naked, then his dream would be fully realized.
Later. Too much too fast won't get you anywhere except back at square one, having to win her trust all over again.
He folded his hands behind his head, giving her complete freedom to do what she wanted. “Surely you've wondered what it would be like to explore a mans body, Morgan ... so do it. Learn that I won't hurt you—no, I can't hurt you, even though my body is bigger and stronger than yours."
"Anywhere?” Her voice was a husky whisper.
He grinned at her, “Everywhere. Make me yours."
For an instant she hesitated, avoiding his gaze and nibbling her bottom lip. Then color bloomed into her cheeks and her eyes, lit by the fire, turned to molten glittering gold. She leaned down to touch her tongue to his Adams apple and her hair, a mass of tangled waves, cascaded around them. Nick swept it back over her shoulders, clutching it in one fist while using his free hand to stroke her spine. She moaned against his neck, arching slightly into his touch while the tip of her tongue traced the line of his beard stubble. He groaned, shut his eyes and tilted his head back to give her better access.