BEASTLY LOVE BOX SET: Romance Collection

by Lindsey Hart

  She climaxed hard around him, her inner muscles clenching tight. Her heels scrabbled at the mattress as her hands clutched the covers. She gasped and as the waves rocked her, took her higher and higher, became stronger with every passing heartbeat. She cried out, cried out something that could have passed for his name. Because he clearly wanted her to come apart at the seams, he moved his finger, going deep at the same time he lowered his mouth to her clit and suckled her.

  She screamed. The sound of it echoed through the room as her body bucked helplessly. He waited, his movements gentling, stilling until she came back to herself, until the black spots cleared from her vision and she could see straight and actually drag a breath into her aching lungs.

  “Oh my god,” she panted. “How can you… how did you… that was…”

  He groaned. The sound sent another racing chill up her spine. When she opened her eyes and glanced down, she watched him raise his face. Her wetness was on his lips and she wanted nothing more than to bring his face to hers and taste herself on him. God, she wanted to give to him what he’d given to her. She wanted to pleasure him, to take care of him, to drive him wild the way he’d done to her. She wanted to take him to the edge, to the brink of insanity and bring him back.

  Her sex throbbed in response. She hadn’t even touched him or tasted him, other than his lips, but just the thought of taking his cock in her mouth was enough to nearly take her straight into another hard climax.

  “I…” she whispered. She took a deep breath, filled up her lungs so she could try and speak again. “I want to do that to you.”

  Owen tensed. He raised his head and stared at her for a few long seconds. She wondered if she’d said something wrong until she realized that the hunger in his narrowed eyes had everything to do with how badly he wanted her and how his own self-control could snap at any second. The realization that she could affect him the way he affected her was so powerful she nearly groaned.

  “Maren, are you sure? If you don’t like it you can always-”

  “Stop?” She pushed herself to her elbows, smiling wickedly. “Don’t worry. There isn’t going to be any chance that I’ll show you any more mercy than you showed me.”

  His echoing groan was the only response she needed.

  CHAPTER 11

  Owen

  Maren had no idea what she was asking. Couldn’t she tell that he was barely hanging on? That his control was about to snap? He wanted to make this about her, her pleasure.

  With the way she was looking at him, so very close to the way he looked at her, maybe it was. The passion in her eyes burned as bright as it burned in his. That look tied his insides in knots.

  “Are you sure?” he hedged. “I want this to be about what you want.”

  She shifted on the bed, settling to her knees. Her tongue snaked out, wetting her lips. He imagined those lips wrapped around his cock and he wanted to die. “What I want is for you to take off your boxers.”

  “This isn’t about me,” he groaned, trying one last time to be valiant.

  “It is. But even if it wasn’t, I want this. I want to make you feel good. Didn’t what you just did for me make you feel anything?”

  “Of course,” he forced out.

  “Well, there you go. Now take off your boxers.”

  He could tell she didn’t want him to hold anything back. She truly did want it, to pleasure him and if that wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen in his life, he didn’t know what was. He slowly stood and worked his boxers off even slower. He freed himself and watched Maren’s eyes widen. It was half unnerving, seeing the shadow of uncertainty flick over her face and half gratifying.

  “Look, you don’t have to do this…”

  She moved off the bed and he nearly died when she dropped to her knees in front of him. She said nothing, just wrapped her warm, dainty palm around his shaft. Just the touch of her produced a hiss of desire from his throat. When her lips wrapped around the tip of his cock and her tongue flicked out and tasted the droplets of arousal there… he learned what it was to be entirely tortured.

  His body jerked violently, but she didn’t pull away. She slowly, slowly slid her lips down the length of him, taking him into her mouth. She pulled back, his cock shiny with her saliva. She licked at his tip, circling him, before venturing down the length of him. He tried not to react, but his hips bucked forward all on their own and the sounds torn from his throat were anything but controlled.

  She wrapped her lips around him again, taking him deep into the blissful warmth of her mouth. She suckled him, moving forward, pulling back. Each stroke was pure bliss. He closed his eyes and drifted away, left the damn planet. His head floated away, the dizziness and black spots swirling in time to his hips, which were pushing forward, setting the rhythm, seeking, seeking everything she could give him.

  Just when he thought it couldn’t get any better, her hand came up. She wrapped it around the base of his cock and pumped him in time with her mouth.

  He didn’t know anything, but that if she kept doing that to him, he was going to lose it. He was going to be absolutely finished and while she wanted to bring him true pleasure, he wanted to hold out. He didn’t want it to be over yet.

  When he reached down and gently pushed her head aside, she glanced up at him with wide eyes.

  “Did you- did you not enjoy that?” She asked, her features pulling into a broken-hearted frown.

  “Of course,” he groaned. “I was enjoying it way too much…” he let that sink in and watched a slow blush spread over her cheeks when she understood. “I want you on the bed. I want to be inside of you. I want to make you come over and over before I finish.”

  Her eyes widened further. They were shiny and luminous, the moonlight reflecting off their grey depths. “What should I do?”

  He didn’t answer. She stood slowly and he wrapped his hands around her waist. She was strong, her stomach flat from always working, from all the swimming and whatever else she did. Her curves were so gentle and flowing. She had the kind of body that was utterly captivating.

  He dropped his head and trailed hot kisses over her collarbones, down her chest to her breast. He captured one nipple in his mouth and suckled gently until she moaned and squirmed away. Both her nipples were hard and peaked though he’d only taken one into his mouth.

  He turned her slowly, guiding her to the edge of the bed. Her knees hit the mattress and she bent, her hands moving forward on the mattress, her hips in the air. The sight of her narrow waist and her rounded ass, her glistening sex, nearly set him off. His cock pounded painfully, and he had to grind his molars to keep from going over the edge like he was a damn sixteen-year-old again.

  “Is this alright?” He ran his hand over her hip, tracing the beautiful curve.

  “Yes,” she whispered thickly.

  “Good. I want you to watch. Watch me enter you.” He wasn’t even sure where the words came from. He just knew that he wanted her to watch him pleasure her. He wanted her to be able to see herself, how incredible she was, what she did to him.

  He palmed his cock and stroked it, spreading his arousal down the length before he brought his hips to hers. She whimpered when she felt his cock at her entrance. Her hips bucked backward, grinding against him with a wicked heat that nearly did him in. Their moans of pleasure mingled as he slid slowly in. He paused, giving her time to adjust to the feel of him. He wasn’t small, and he didn’t want to hurt her.

  His fingers curled into the flesh of her hips. When he withdrew and slowly, inch by inch, filled her up again, her breathing changed. He felt her body clench around him. Her hips swiveled, grinding into him once again.

  Brushing her hair aside, he kissed the back of her neck. She turned her face and he suckled at her tender skin, her earlobe, the delicate column of her throat. Her body came alive under his touch, her hips grinding into his pelvis over and over as he filled her. He drove forward, tortured half breaths escaping his throat.

  She was so damn tight,
so warm and so wet. He could get lost in her, her scent, her moans, her movements, her slow grinds, the incredible burn spreading through him. Her hair spilled half down her back, half over her shoulders. It swayed with every single movement. His thrusts were getting harder, thicker, quicker. Black spots started their familiar dance across his vision again as her body gripped him tightly.

  He felt her muscles clench. He knew the exact second her climax took hold. It was another few seconds before she cried out her pleasure. Her body was so wondrously tight, her muscles working to pull his own pleasure from him long before he was ready. Her body strained under his hands as she writhed and whimpered. She was so tight… so damn tight…

  He just couldn’t wait any longer. He thrust harder, harder, out of control, his hips driving into hers, straining, plunging in and gliding out. When he knew he couldn’t hold on any longer, he pulled out, spraying hot jets over her back and bottom. He shuddered violently, groaning loudly, nearly falling over. She was the only thing that kept him upright, her strength and the way she braced herself on the bed.

  “I’ll get you something,” he promised. He disappeared into the bathroom and grabbed a towel. It wasn’t the sexiest thing in the world, but she practically purred as he wiped it off. “I’m sorry…” he mumbled as he set the towel aside.

  She turned, eyes blazing. “Why are you sorry?”

  “Well… that wasn’t the most romantic ending…”

  “No,” she whispered. “I think it was perfect. Don’t apologize unless it wasn’t good for you.”

  He nearly died. He actually stepped back a pace. “Good? That’s not even the right word. It doesn’t begin to describe what I felt… what it was like being with you…”

  Her eyes sparkled as she turned into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his face down to hers. Just before her lips met his, her smile grew. She pressed herself into him, her curves melding against the hardness of him. And god… he was still hard. Everywhere.

  “Good,” she whispered, pleasure and longing thick in every single word. “I want you again. I want more. I want you to show me everything.”

  The way she was looking at him, the passion in her kiss, the fire that was just starting, despite everything they’d just done… who was he to deny her anything? He relaxed into her kiss and lost himself in her once more.

  CHAPTER 12

  Owen

  The sound of birdsong and the heat of early morning sunshine woke him the next morning. He slowly cracked one lid, then the other. When he realized that he’d spent the entire night without a dream, or rather a nightmare, he sat straight up in bed. The covers fell away and it all came back. Everything he’d done the night before. The reason that he was waking up naked and not in boxers or his plaid pajama bottoms.

  Heat suffused his body. His heart began to pound, wildly. God, he wished Maren was there with him. When did she leave? Right after I fell asleep? Or had she waited? Had she woken early, since she was used to getting up early and she just couldn’t lay around? What had she felt when she left?

  I’m pathetic. Seriously.

  Owen threw back the covers and let his feet hit the cool floor. Sunlight bathed the bed in its warm, golden glow and he had to squint, it was so bright.

  He dressed quietly, throwing on a pair of fresh jeans and a t-shirt out of his suitcase. The shirt was slightly rumpled, but he knew it would smooth out as his body heat hit it and the morning went on.

  He was halfway down the hall when soft voices drifted up the stairs to the landing. He paused, not meaning to eavesdrop but the sound of his name brought him up short.

  It was Maren who had said his name and he thought he recognized the other voice. Hettie, he figured. They were speaking in the kitchen or maybe even in the living room in hushed tones. They clearly weren’t aware he was awake or standing just at the top of the stairs, not more than fifty feet from where they likely were.

  “Have you asked him yet?” That was Hettie, her voice not nearly as quiet as Maren’s.

  “Shhh, Hettie,” Maren hissed. So, he was right. It was Hettie down there with her. “I’m not going to ask him. It isn’t right.”

  “So, the plan isn’t going as planned?” Hettie laughed softly, a little like a cackle to his ears.

  “It was never an actual plan,” Maren corrected gently. “I just can’t do it.”

  “But he’s clearly interested in you.”

  “No.” Maren’s denial fell flat, even to his ears.

  “Don’t no me, Missy. I know a smitten man when I see one. He would do anything for you if you just ask.”

  “That’s exactly why I don’t want to ask. It wouldn’t be right. I don’t want to feel like I’d be taking advantage of him.”

  “You’re just saying that because you’re a nice person. Too kind. You let people walk all over you. Do I need to remind you that this house has been in your family for generations?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “And I can see by that letter you were moping over when I walked in that you don’t have a lot of time. If you don’t want to lose this house, you need to ask Owen. Or find someone else, but we both know the chances of that happening are slim, or at least happening in time. Owen is right here, right now. It’s the perfect opportunity. You just have to take it.”

  “I can’t do it, Hettie. I… that’s not what this is about.”

  “No? What’s this and what isn’t it about?”

  “I… he’s not just here to help me save the bed and breakfast. I don’t want to use him. I don’t want it to be about his money.”

  “Of course, that’s not all it would be about, Maren. But we talked about this before he even got here. I thought you were in agreement that you needed to ask.”

  “I don’t know if agreement was the right word.”

  “We talked about it though, and you didn’t say no.”

  “Maybe I was being polite.”

  “Or maybe you know deep down that you do what you have to do in order to survive. If you asked him, he wouldn’t say no. I can tell he would do anything for you.”

  “It would feel like I’m tricking him.”

  “He’s a smart man and he can take care of himself. You wouldn’t be tricking anyone. This place is a good investment, you just need someone to take that risk. He’s already half in love with you.”

  “He’s not…”

  “He is. Don’t beat around it, Maren. Whatever you’ve been doing worked. You don’t need a husband, you need an investment partner.”

  They went on talking in hushed tones, but Owen heard nothing after that. He gripped the ornate wooden railing hard, so hard that little white crescents formed on his knuckles. His chest threatened to cave in. Black spots swarmed his vision. He was so dizzy he nearly fell. Only his hold on the banister kept him upright.

  He turned slowly, a minute later when he could finally coordinate a movement. He walked slowly, silently, back to his room. When he shut the door, it closed with just the smallest of clicks. He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed.

  I’m a damn fool. He’d promised himself this would never happen again. That a woman would never play him, take advantage of him, use him for his money and leave him broken-hearted.

  And here he was. He’d trusted Maren blindly. Chelsea’s best friend. He thought that she was different. That she was a good, kind person. He thought she was worthy of the trust and hope he’d placed in her. He was, just like he had been before, played by a beautiful face. He’d been put under her spell, entranced by the beauty of feminine allure.

  Anger rose, swift and strong, filling his chest, cutting off his air supply. He wanted to put his fist through something, the wall maybe, but he knew that definitely wasn’t productive. He would probably just end up with a sore hand, broken knuckles maybe, and he didn’t need that humiliation on top of everything else.

  No, he’d do something much, much worse. He’d leave. Maren would lose this place. Whatever money trouble she was in
, he sure as hell wasn’t going to bail her out. If she’d asked him the night before… his face heated painfully when he realized that he would have given her the world, had she asked. He would have taken her hand and trusted her, put his faith in her, given her his already wounded heart in hopes that she could heal it. What a joke. God, he was truly pathetic. Why did I ever come back to this forsaken place?

  He had no answers. He was looking for an escape, for closure. I guess I found it. He’d learned a hard lesson. Trust no one. He’d been so determined to live a life as a single man, to never marry, before he met Chelsea. It had been the right decision. There was no one on the damn planet who wouldn’t use a man for money if they had the opportunity. That’s all it was about. The money. It was a curse far more than it was a blessing.

  Owen slammed his way over to his suitcase. He started stuffing his things back in, jamming them down when they didn’t fit. What did he really care about any of it? Nothing. He could have walked out the door and left the suitcase behind and it wouldn’t have mattered.

  From somewhere below him, a door opened and closed. The front door? He didn’t know, and he didn’t care. He zipped the zipper closed on his suitcase so violently he nearly ripped it off. The room was a blur as he lifted his heavy luggage. He didn’t wheel it.

  He stomped down the hallway, his shoes echoing loudly. He banged down the stairs and almost made it out the front door when the sound of his name, spoken so very softly, brought him up short. He whirled and found Maren standing behind him, her lips parted, soft grey eyes wide. She was so very beautiful, spotlighted by the sunlight flooding in from a window behind her. Her hair glowed like a fiery halo around her face. She was so incredible it hurt to even look at her. The fact that he could still appreciate her beauty when he knew she was nothing but a seductress, that she’d been using him the entire time, was like a thorn in the tender flesh of his heart.