by Sosie Frost
Her giggle was all the encouragement I needed. A quiet, timid, thrilled sound that hardened my cock and shattered my soul. I’d capture it. Kissed it. Sealed it away inside me forever. Her mew was a perfect sound of surrender and desire and longing. I’d dreamt about it, fantasized about it, and, for five years, mourned its loss.
But now it was mine.
This woman. This beautiful, exciting, absolute sweetheart of a woman was mine.
Her kiss ravished me as I devoured her. My name caressed her lips, but I claimed her gasp as I trapped her on the porch swing.
This woman wasn’t supposed to belong to me.
I’d chased. I’d flirted. I’d even tempted her.
But that was in the past, when I’d made the decision to run because I knew what my life was worth. Back then, my future was as dark and twisted as my past. A girl like Cassi needed someone stable, reliable, and good.
I had the strength then to recognize what her brothers saw now. What the town believed. The part of my name, of my life, that had driven Emma to drugs and me to the wilderness.
What made me think I had the right to touch, savor, and mark this woman?
Maybe we all wanted to change who we were.
Maybe we all believed the lies about ourselves, feasted on the best parts in the worst of us, and pretended the rest could be ignored, mended, or forgotten.
Didn’t make me any different from the rest. Just made me hate how hard my cock pounded and how my mouth watered for her.
Why change who I was?
A liar. A disappointment. A bastard.
Cassi wanted me. I wanted her.
What harm was there in taking exactly what I’d always wanted again and again and again?
Love always had consequences.
A man just had to chance how much he was willing to hurt.
I knelt before Cassi and pushed her onto the swing. Her legs pressed together. I kept them that way, reaching only for the waistband of her pants. God bless the man who invented yoga leggings. A goddamned genius.
The stretchy material slipped off her butt and down her hips, but I left it to bundle over her thighs. The material bound her legs together. Perfection. Every curve on display just for me. I pushed her legs back, knees nearly to her chest.
Then I dove for the perfect little secret of wetness peeking from between her thighs.
Heaven was made of chocolate sweetness and sticky pleasure.
I lapped at her slit and seized her clit. Screw subtlety. Why bother with formalities and sensual touches when we could rage together in reckless desperation?
It’d been a week since I held her, touched her, tasted her—and that was seven nights of a searing, wicked torment that had isolated me longer than the five years I’d been without her.
Tonight wasn’t about soft caresses or tender moments.
This was about us.
Taking what we needed.
Forgetting every trouble.
Ignoring every responsibility for as long as I could last bottomed out inside of her.
“Rem…” Cassi covered her mouth with her hand. She bit her fingers to muffle a groan as I licked between those petals to taste more of her desire. “What’s…what’s gotten into you?”
“Need you.” The words mumbled in her wetness as I ravaged her velvety delight. “Gotta get you ready.”
“Oh, I’m ready.” Her hands clutched the back of her knees, holding herself up for me. “I’ve been ready. I can’t be apart from you for that long.”
If only she had escaped when she’d had the chance.
Her legs pressed tightly together, but her puffy folds tempted me with a sweet promise. I could have taken her like this. The pants would have held her legs in the perfect place, unable to squirm away as I delivered her to every height and depravity I’d promised.
But no.
I needed something more. Something permanent. Visceral and primal.
I wanted to control her. Tame her. Seize her body and break her strength through complete and utter pleasure. I wanted to own her every breath, experience her every shiver, and draw every sharp gasp and moan from her lips.
I wanted to take her. I wanted to destroy her. I wanted to love her. I wanted to possess her.
And I longed for her to do the same for me.
I had no idea how long this insanity would last. The one and only true pleasure in my life would be the moment when I bared my soul to this woman and accepted whatever judgment or pain or hatred she’d feel for me.
I’d lose her forever.
But I wouldn’t lose this night. This feeling. The exquisite torture in denying myself my own release while I pleasured her with long, laps of my tongue.
“You did miss me…” Cassi breathed. “Or just parts of me.”
“Every part.”
“Makes me wonder what would happen if I left for longer?”
My heart seized. She would, soon enough. It’d happen, but not tonight. Not for a minute, a second. Not even long enough for me to pull out of her tightness.
I had to be a part of her. Had to memorize every softness, every slick secret and fluttering heartbeat.
I pulled her from the swing, but there was no dignity in what we were doing tonight. No romance or sweetness. Just pure, adrenaline-fueled mounting.
Wild.
Surprised it hadn’t come over me before. That I hadn’t lost myself in that isolation before this moment. There was a reason I’d lived for so long by myself—cast away from towns and people and society. For five years I’d become one with the wildest and most primitive parts of the world. Living off the land. Fending for myself. Fighting off wild animals. Faced a grizzly and lived only to have a pack of wolves surround my home at night.
Nothing made a man stronger. More resilient. Harder. Fiercer.
And more desperate than ever to just connect with the only woman he’d ever loved.
Cassi didn’t protest. Either she needed it too, or she knew that surrendering to me was the easiest, fastest, and best way to get filled with every inch of every promise I’d ever made.
She rested on her knees but dropped low to her elbows, stretching her curves and offering that plump, delicious ass that threatened to stroke me out while I stroked myself.
Her slit glistened in the dim light. Ready. Swollen. Eager to be filled and pumped and taken.
I gripped her hips and said a prayer because if this wasn’t the ultimate fruit of a forbidden tree then I had no idea what else in this world could be as dangerous as a beautiful woman offering every inch of herself.
I wasn’t a good enough man for this woman, but I was just animal enough to fuck her senseless and leave her begging for more.
My cock twitched as I jerked the thick length against her entrance. She bucked against me, and the slickness nearly tore me apart. I couldn’t be gentle. Couldn’t just enjoy and feel. This was a taking. A ravishing that would undo everything polite and lovely and sensitive.
No more words, only grunting.
No more foreplay, only rutting.
No more wondering if and when and how and why.
Only this.
Only her.
Only that tightness, the secret I’d already discovered but revealed a little more of her every time.
I thrust inside of her with one solid push, and the world split at the seams.
Light and dark blended in a single, roaring, conquering mount. The force knocked her forward, and the pleasure took me with it. Cassi groaned, but it wasn’t enough. No sound, no breath, no twitch of her body was enough to satisfy me. I needed more. I needed her. Every way and any way.
She fell forward onto the porch. I collapsed over her, planting my legs to either side of her as her pants trapped her in a dizzying pleasure. My palms struck the porch and captured her shoulders beneath my chest. My body shadowed hers. Covered her. Wrapped over and inside of her.
And I still wasn’t close enough.
I despised pulling out.
&n
bsp; I celebrated thrusting in.
And I hated myself for doing it again and again, slamming harder into her as my body slapped against hers in a vulgar, sensual thrill.
Cassi tightened. She groaned, shocked and overwhelmed by the force of my hardness. I didn’t offer pleasure. I threatened it. I didn’t wish for her moans. I created them. She writhed in shock and delight and clutched at the wooden floorboards for any support the ground might have offered. She’d find none. I’d cruelly, passionately wrenched her out of this world and into a fantasy of my own lust.
This wasn’t how I’d planned to take her, but nothing else felt right. Just as my life began to unravel and the secrets and lies coated everything in a film of deceit, fucking became my salvation. My only way to prove how recklessly I needed this woman. How I’d do anything, ruin everything, and destroy my own humanity to keep her under me, beside me, with me.
I loved her.
And I fucked her.
And I claimed her.
And she came for me again and again, struggling under my hips for a reprieve so I might have let her breathe and whisper my name and any other words neither of us should have said.
I gave her none of it.
Only cock. Only lies. Only my heart and all the trouble it had ever caused.
And only when she’d sweated and shivered and cried out in lovely torment under the onslaught of my hips did I finally let myself feel that terrible urge that made me the worst man in the world for her.
I came.
Hard. Fast. Pumping my hips harder against her ass until I bottomed out as deeply as my cock could reach. It wasn’t a tingle or a rising swell of pressure. It was catastrophe and ecstasy, disaster and honesty.
A good man shared his pleasure. A bad man stole it. I jetted inside of her with every intention to mark her as mine. I’d have her remember this night and this moment and how desperately I wanted to be the only one she needed in this world. I wasn’t, but it didn’t stop me from wishing. From bucking my legs and filling her with warmth and passion and hope.
Hope wasn’t mine to have.
Neither was she.
I rolled off of her. Cassi panted, flipping onto her back to suck in the first full breaths of air she’d taken since she’d arrived at the cabin.
My cock hadn’t softened. She glanced at me, at it, and she…
Giggled.
“What’s gotten into you?” She struggled to catch her breath. “You fucked me like we wouldn’t be doing that again in twenty minutes.”
“Try ten.”
“Are you okay?”
I wasn’t answering that. Wasn’t thinking straight. Wasn’t anything.
“Wanna run away?” I asked. “Far from here? Just me and you. No past. No problems. No worries. Just…together.”
Far enough away and enveloped in so much pleasure she’d never again question that night, what’d had happened, what I’d done.
“And bring the kids?” She smirked.
Made it tougher, but manageable. “Sure.”
“And my brothers?”
“It’s looking less and less romantic, Sassy.”
“There’s plenty of romance right here at home.” She stroked my tattoos. Her fingers danced over the inked sunflower. “You came back and look what happened.”
Nothing yet, because the lies had mounted and the truth had been shielded from her.
Exhaustion overwhelmed me. Guilt punished what remained.
“Cas, I gotta tell you something.”
“I know my family was rough.” She slid to my side, covering my lips with her hand. “And I know that dinner was…terrible.”
“Listen, Cassi…”
Her kiss warmed me. “This is how it was meant to be. You, back home. Me, here and all sticky and sweaty. Us, together. We were idiots back then. But I’m going to do everything I can to make it work this time, Rem.” She bit her lip. “Even if it means the occasional food fight at family dinners. If I have to scrub some sweet potatoes out of the carpet to have you at my side, then I’ll pack a sponge in my purse.”
Cassi kicked off her pants and rolled over me, grinding that slippery, messy slit against my hardening cock. Her fingertips gently teased my beard.
“You are finally mine, Remington Marshall. And nothing could ever tear us apart.”
She angled her hips, taking me inside of her once more. Her eyes closed, and an absolute beauty gentle rode herself to bliss over my hips.
I wished I could have believed her. Offered her a promise. Security. Honesty.
If the truth would ruin this, then I’d never speak a word.
The past would die in silence.
But how badly our future be destroyed?
16
Cassi
Sex with Remington Marshall was like having sex with the physical embodiment of bourbon, timber, and sweat.
Worshiped like a goddess.
Ravished like a lady.
Fucked like a slut.
Best of all worlds.
In bed, Rem was the lover I’d always imagined. Compassionate, kind, and devoted.
But when we returned to the real world, outside of the cabin and our own little forest on the mountain, everything changed. He’d started to withdraw. Avoided the kids. Refused to travel into town.
Was he pulling away?
Why was he so reluctant to seize the chance at a fresh start in Butterpond?
What was he still hiding from me?
I wasn’t about to let it come between us.
Or him and the kids.
He’d felt guilty about Mellie’s outbursts while I was gone—and even worse about the slight burn on her hand. She’d recovered, simply delighted for a chance to wear a bedazzled band-aid. It’d scarred Rem more. Not just the injury, but the words she’d spoken that she didn’t understand.
It was almost adorable to see his confidence shaken by a three-year-old.
He needed some time with Mellie. Quality time. So I dragged him and the kids into Butterpond for a new event offered by the local library. It was a pretty happening place in the town. They had Quilting Mondays, Knitting Tuesdays, Embroidery Thursdays, and, the current favorite, Slow Cooker Sunday.
Unfortunately, Martial Arts Wednesdays was cancelled following a particularly heated sparring contest which had resulted in Mrs. Miller’s shattered hip. The Silver Exercise program had recently reworked their mission statement from TaekwonDO to …Taekwon-probably-shouldn’t.
Rem stared at the library, hesitant to cross the red brick threshold. “The last time I was here…” He pointed to the dumpster adjacent to the building. “Tidus and I dropped an M80 into the can.”
I nodded. “I remember. You frightened Mrs. Tulley’s homing pigeons. Six of them fled across the state line.”
Rem glanced to the overhead wires. “The others ended up eleven secret herbs and spices short of a KFC crispy bucket.”
“Don’t worry. No pigeons will be harmed today. This should be cute.” I handed him the flyer. Daddy-Daughter Painting. The friendly bubble letters didn’t excite him. “You and Mellie will love it. Right, Mellie?”
The toddler never ran, she bounced. Off of everyone and everything. She’d ricocheted off the library’s brick half-fence and collided with Rem’s legs. She tugged on his shirt to hop into his arms, but he didn’t reach for her.
Hadn’t really held her all week.
“Paint!” She beamed at him. “Come on, Uncle Rem!”
He didn’t return her smile, and my heart broke. He stared at the library, the town, the whispering people as they passed us on the steps. He might have been gone for a few years, but everyone remembered Remington Marshall. That wasn’t a good thing for either of us.
Robert Bunting and his two twin girls crossed the street towards the library, though he cautiously diverted the kids onto the sidewalk, choosing to enter through a second entrance, far from Rem.
Rem noticed.
Of course he noticed.
I frowned.
“Mr. Bunting has no room to talk…and no liver either. He’s spent the last fifteen years cheating on his wife with Jim Beam.” I took Rem’s hand. “Don’t worry about them.”
“You sure about this, Sassy?” Rem never sounded beaten. If anything, the reluctance made him all that more confident that what he did, where he hid, why he ran was the right thing. “I gotta give Mellie and Tabby the best start they can get. If I keep hanging around, what’ll that do to them?”
“This is your home.” I mussed with Mellie’s blonde curls. “And this is your niece who wants nothing more than to paint with you this afternoon.”
He handed the flyer back. “It’s daddy-daughter, Cas.”
“They’ll make an exception for an uncle, especially one who cares so much about his nieces.”
Rem wasn’t convinced. “You know what’s going to happen the instant I step foot in there.”
Yeah. If the little old volunteer librarians didn’t drop dead, the shock would tangle their knitting and unravel Rem in gossip throughout Butterpond. Knit twice, purl once, and hide the women.
“Ignore them.”
I pulled him close for a kiss, but Tabby stole him instead, puckering her own lips. He smirked and gave her two.
“You’ve been gone for a long time,” I said. “They might not welcome you back overnight.”
“I don’t care what they think.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Then why are you so worried?”
“I care what you think—and what will happen to your reputation.”
“We played this game five years ago too, Rem.” I winked. “Didn’t scare me away then. Won’t work on me now. Besides…I need the paycheck.”
“And the truth finally comes out.”
I pushed him towards the door. “Both of you. March. I’m ordering you to have fun.”
“Ordering me?”
“That’s right.”
“Oh, no little girl.” Rem opened the door for me with a wicked smile and no sense of his surroundings. “Think I’ll have to punish that rebellious streak out of you…”
A horrified Mrs. Jenkins crossed herself as she hurried out of the library. She cast two indignant glances at us and tutted her disapproval.
Well, we’d be the hot topic at bridge club that night.