Wild, Wounded Hearts

by Wild, Wounded Hearts (epub)

  “No. You just need to come here,” he rasped.

  He grabbed her upper arm and palmed a naked hip, assisting her over the console. A moment later, she settled in his lap, her weight delicious. His hands moved on her hips and the sides of her buttocks. Her ass felt bare.

  “Lift up,” he said. With her hands on his shoulders, she rose to her knees over him. Her beautiful breasts were within inches of his face. He cupped her ass cheeks, massaging her lasciviously. She moaned, her pelvis gyrating subtly. He slipped a finger beneath the top of the thong she wore and trailed it between her plump ass cheeks. His cock throbbed furiously.

  “Are you trying to kill me, baby girl?”

  Her hands moved up his neck, her body moving into him. Her long, loose hair tickled the side of his ear, and her scent—flowers and sex—reached his nose. “I thought you’d like it,” she said huskily, referring to the thong she wore while he traced the path of the string. She undulated her hips again in response to his caress in the crack of her ass, the action making him see red for a moment.

  “I like it so much, I’m going to have to rip it off you,” he told her roughly, before he slid his hands all over her silky skin, absorbing the erotic sensation of her taut, feminine curves. He slid his fingers beneath the skimpy bra she wore and lowered the fabric. Her nipples popped out, pink, large and already partially erect.

  He groaned. Unable to resist such a feast a second longer, he pushed her to him with a hand at her back.

  Her nipples hardened like magic beneath his sweeping, pressing tongue. He sucked on her gently, his body thrilling to the sexy sounds of her whimpers and moans. It made him hungrier. Crazier. He pushed her full, firm breasts together and licked both nipples at once, shivers pouring through him at the sensation of her nails scraping his scalp.

  “Z,” she moaned, sounding wild. Desperate. He slipped a nipple between his pursed lips and took a moment to look at her. With the help of the dashboard lights, he could see her beautiful face. She had the pinched, tense appearance of extreme arousal. Her long hair fell over her right shoulder in a sexy spill. Her hips shifted as he stared at her, drawing circles with her sex against his straining cock in a come-hither gesture that made his eyes cross for a split second.

  He lifted both of her beautiful breasts from below, causing the nipples to thrust forward provocatively. His mouth watered at the erotic vision. She groaned and her hip undulation grew faster. Her hands started to move anxiously across his chest and abdomen. She began unfastening his shirt.

  “Hold on,” he muttered thickly, grabbing her wrists. He moved her hands to her lower back. He noticed her wide eyes. “Hold onto her hands,” he said. “Keep them there, at your back.”

  She blinked. He waited until he felt her hands clasp one another. Then he swept his hands beneath her arms, skimming the exquisitely soft skin at her sides. He plumped her luscious breasts once again.

  “Now arch your back,” he said.

  Her back curved gracefully, her face turning toward the top of the car. Her hands remained clasped at her lower back. Her flat abdomen stretched tight, and her breasts thrust forward. He growled his deep approval at the position, beginning to cup, massage and play with her lush mounds with single-minded greed and need.

  He leaned forward and began licking and sucking on her breasts again, burying himself in her lush bounty. Without thinking, he pushed her down into his lap, leaning her back against the support of his hand while he bent forward, continuing to feast on her.

  Eventually, he became aware that her cries and moans had segued into pleas and her hip rolling in his lap had escalated to frantic levels. He felt it, too, in spades, as she ground her pussy against his near-to-bursting cock. He swore he could feel her heat and dampness penetrating his jeans.

  Unwilling to give up his delightful feast on her breasts, but about ready to come in his pants if she kept up that hip rolling, he knew he had to do something to assuage her. He slid one hand down her taut abdomen and beneath the tiny panties she wore. He groaned gutturally against her breast.

  She was drenched.

  It was gratifying to know she loved him worshipping her breasts as much he enjoyed doing it. The proof slicked his hand.

  It only took a few gliding, firm strokes against her clit before she was shaking in his lap, the delicate tremors racking her tightly drawn body. Her choked cries and whimpers drove him mad.

  That was when he decided it was past time to get rid of the sexy thong she wore. Using both hands, he ripped it off her in two terse movements.

  Several heart-pumping, strained moments later, his clothing had joined Ursa’s dress and ripped thong in the backseat. He flipped a lever, and the back of the driver’s seat lowered him into a reclining position. His heavy erection thumped against his belly. He paused, his breath burning in his lungs, when he noticed where Ursa stared fixedly.

  She reached for him. For several tense, jaw-grinding seconds, he endured her stroking his cock with curious fingers and a silken, strong fist. When it became too much for him, he pulled her hand off him and reached for her.

  Nothing less would do. He needed to be buried in her to the hilt, or he was going to die. It had come down to those two choices in that desperate second.

  She was more than eager, but it took several tense attempts on their part to squeeze his cock into her tight, hot body. By the time she finally sat in his lap, his cock buried in her, he lay there sweating and panting, on the verge of losing control.

  Out of desperation, he cupped her hips and kept her firmly in place, the frantic little circling and bobbing movements of her pelvis driving him to distraction.

  “I don’t know how you do it to me, Ursa. Every single fucking time,” he bit out in furious arousal. She groaned and fought against his hold on her hips, gyrating against him and squeezing him until his eyes crossed.

  A frustrated roar erupted out of his throat.

  “Come here,” he ordered, pulling her upper body down flush against his, her breasts crushing against his heaving ribs. He held her down against him with one arm, and molded one of her ass cheeks to his other hand. He popped the plump cheek with his palm. Her squirming and moaning halted at the smacking sound.

  “You’re a bad girl, Ursa Esterbrook.” A grin tugged at his mouth, despite his strangling arousal. The idea of talking dirty to Ursa Esterbrook both amused him, and turned him on to a ludicrous degree. He spanked her again tautly, the sharp sound echoing around the enclosure of his car. “I don’t know how I could have ever thought you were a saint. You’re a dirty, bad, sweet little thing, aren’t you?” he ground out, spanking her again.

  “Yes,” she moaned, sounding one hundred percent with him in the moment. She circled her hips ever so subtly, trying to get pressure on her clit.

  He spanked her again. And again.

  Of course, spanking her was a poor solution for his lack of control. It was the purest kind of erotic torture, swatting her round, firm ass while his cock was buried in her. She heeded his warning, and strained not to move in his lap. But she couldn’t seem to stop flexing the tight, wet walls of her sex around him every time he landed a spank on her ass. Her face was pressed against his chest. Every time he spanked her, he felt her warm breath on his skin as she gasped.

  Then she pressed her mouth against him, trying to stifle her moans. Her lips felt feverish as they moved next to his skin. She grasped onto his ribcage tightly, stilling herself for another smack on her ass. When he served it, she lifted her head. The plaintive moan that escaped her lips was a plea.

  Her unguarded, raw arousal at being spanked was the last straw.

  Groaning harshly, he sat up, hugging her tight against him. He lifted her weight, and slid her down the length of his cock. She landed in his lap with a loud whap. She yelped, and clung tighter to him. His arms encircling her waist, he lifted and crashed her down into his lap again.

/>   “Oh, God.”

  Ursa’s scream barely penetrated his lust. He was ruthless, taking her entire weight and thrusting her down onto his cock in fast, hard strokes. The sound of her ass slapping against his thighs filled the interior of the car, mixing with Ursa’s high, incredulous cries and his guttural groans. It was a mad frenzy.

  It was sheer heaven.

  He felt her heat rush over him, the walls of her channel squeezing him spasmodically. He hit climax like a brick wall.

  His roar echoed around them. As he poured himself into her, he pressed his mouth into Ursa’s shoulder, muffling his shout of blissful anguish. The truth blasted through him, as powerful and sheering as his orgasm.

  I need her in my life. I can’t live without her.

  As the convulsions of is climax waned, the impact of his startling recognition remained vibrating in his flesh. He pulled gently on her hair, tilting her face back. Despite the sobering realization, he still felt the need to submerse himself in her. He kissed her deeply, feeling shaken and vulnerable, completely lost…

  Utterly found.

  Chapter Thirty

  Four Months Later

  Christmas

  When Ursa pulled up in front of her Mom’s house a few days before Christmas, her gaze wasn’t trained on her family home. Instead, she searched the driveway of the Lodge in the distance. But she didn’t see Z’s gleaming, dark blue Coronet parked there. Her heart dipped a little in disappointment. Z had told her just last night before she’d fallen asleep in his arms that he might not be able to make it to Tahoe until the following day.

  Ursa had been summoned by her mother to come for Christmas in Tahoe Shores. On the phone, her mom would only say that it was for an important announcement. She’d insisted all her daughters come.

  Ursa was clueless as to what this emergency announcement was, but she did know one thing that her sisters didn’t. Since she and Z had grown increasingly closer in the past few months, she knew firsthand from Z that Stephen had insisted that Jude and Z show up for Christmas in Tahoe Shores, as well. She thought of Z’s and her conversation, just last night.

  “Motorcyclist is sending over a photographer for some online publicity photos late tomorrow afternoon,” Z told her, referring to the major motorcycle magazine that had featured Z on the front cover. Motorcyclist had done a big article on Z and Xtreme Cycle for their latest issue. It was a major coup for Z, and was bound to bring in tons of quality clients to his custom bike business. Ursa had been there for the original photo shoot back in September. She was swollen with pride for Z’s success. “I’m not sure how long it’s going to take,” Z continued. “But if I don’t make it to Tahoe Shores by tomorrow night, I’ll be there the next day.”

  “What do you think this meeting could mean? Why all the mystery?” Ursa said with her cheek pressed against his chest. With her finger, she lazily traced the design of the intricate sleeve tattoo on his bulging bicep.

  They lay in her bed, naked and sated after making love. They’d tried seeing one another only on the weekends following Labor Day. But that had only worked for a month or so. Soon, Ursa found herself driving over to Columbia on Tuesday nights to be with him, and Z did the same every Thursday to be with her in Reno. The one-way trip took three and a half to four hours. It’d been difficult doing it, given their busy work schedules. To make matters more complicated, Ursa had been doing a lot of work on her lifelong dream of opening the residential respite facility.

  Despite all that, she wouldn’t have missed a night with Z for anything. The three nights that they couldn’t see each other during the week became more and more unbearable, as the months passed.

  Or at least they were unbearable for Ursa. She was a little unclear about how Z felt about their nights spent apart. Even so, he had been the one to first show up on her doorstep on a weekday night, and he hadn’t missed one Thursday night since then.

  “You don’t have any idea what the announcement could be?” Z asked her presently.

  She lifted her head. There’d been something in his tone that puzzled her. Had he sounded wary?

  “No,” she laughed. “Should I?” Her gaze narrowed on him. “You know something, don’t you?”

  “No,” he insisted. He’d grown a beard and mustache recently, encouraged by Ursa’s attraction to it as it developed. He wore the facial hair short and well trimmed. The black beard only made him more sinisterly handsome than he already was, especially when he scowled like he was at the moment.

  She waited expectantly, but Z didn’t elaborate beyond his denial.

  “I’m a little worried Mom is going to tell us she plans to sell the house,” Ursa admitted reluctantly.

  His fingers stopped moving in her hair.

  “Why would you think that?”

  Ursa shrugged and settled her cheek back on his broad chest. “She doesn’t need that huge house anymore. Besides, it must be hard for her to live there. With all the memories of Dad.”

  Z didn’t respond immediately, but his fingers began moving in her hair again.

  “I don’t really think that’s it,” he said after a moment.

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Because Jude and I were told to come home, too. Why would Stephen insist that Jude and I come to Tahoe Shores for Christmas to hear the announcement that your mom was going to move?”

  Ursa lifted her head again, this time glaring at him.

  “Z, what do you know?” she demanded.

  “I don’t know anything. Honest, baby girl.” He urged her with his hand to return her head against his chest. Ursa complied, heaving a sigh.

  “We’re all going to find out what the big secret is soon, anyway,” she heard Z say, his tone sounding grim.

  Her reverie as she sat in her mom’s driveway was cut short by movement and light out of the corner of her eye. She turned and saw her mother step out onto the front porch, waving cheerfully. Sadie stepped out behind her, clutching an afghan around her chest and smiling.

  Here goes, Ursa thought as she opened the car door. Z’s right. We’ll all find out the secret soon enough.

  Z arrived in Tahoe Shores late the next morning, immediately spotting Ursa’s silver Lexus in the driveway of the Esterbrook house. He’d known there was a good chance he wouldn’t make it last night, but the photographer had shown up even later than Z had expected. He’d been more disappointed than he cared to admit to himself at the missed chance of spending time with Ursa.

  The expression stolen time had never held much meaning for him until the last few months, living nearly two hundred miles away from her.

  He had major reservations about this whole meeting that Stephen and Ilsa had scheduled. Unlike Ursa, who still believed that her mother pined daily for her father, Z knew the truth. He knew that Stephen and Ilsa were involved romantically, sexually, or both. He just didn’t know how involved they were. But he was concerned this mysterious announcement related to that involvement.

  He was mostly worried because of what a revelation of Ilsa and Stephen’s relationship might mean to Ursa. Given as close as she’d been to her father, Ursa would likely be crushed.

  It made him ache, imagining her shocked, hurt expression at being told that her mom was sleeping with Stephen. Had been, possibly for a year now. It also pissed him off yet again, thinking about Ilsa and Stephen’s selfishness in the whole matter. Didn’t they know what a blow this would be to the Esterbrook girls? It’d been a kick to the gut for Jude and Z to realize the truth, and they hadn’t lost their father just a little over two years ago.

  Part of him wanted to tell Ursa the truth, to try to cushion the blow. But since he wasn’t precisely sure what the nature of Ilsa and Stephen’s relationship was, and he also wasn’t certain if this major announcement even related to that, he’d been vacillating on whether or not, when, and how he should break the volatile news
to her.

  All he knew was that he wanted to protect her. It drove him nuts that he wasn’t sure how to accomplish that, given this unique, charged situation.

  He swung into the Lodge’s driveway, parked, and immediately got out his phone.

  I JUST GOT HERE, he texted Ursa. MEET ME DOWN AT THE BEACH?

  She texted back almost immediately.

  MEET YOU AT THE BOULDER CAVE IN TEN.

  Ursa saw that Z was already there when she climbed up the boulders and looked down into the crevice between them. He perched in front of the little cavern, his ass resting on the edge, his long legs bent in front of him, his boots firmly planted in the sand.

  She hopped off the boulder and landed with a thud in front of him. Z’s firm, sexy mouth tilted into a grin at her sudden, dramatic appearance. Despite the chilly wind coming off the lake, it warmed her to the core to see his face and that special glint in his blue eyes.

  “Hi,” she greeted him, already moving between his bent knees into his extended arms. He cupped her head with both leather-gloved hands. His returned greeting was a deep, hot, thorough kiss. Her head spun from it.

  Had she really just seen him the night before last? It felt like forever. He felt and tasted like something brand new, and utterly delicious.

  She breathed unevenly when they closed the kiss a moment later.

  “So. Are you ready for this?” she asked.

  “Ready for what?” he muttered between kisses on her temple and ear. He pressed his face near to her neck and inhaled, nuzzling her with his nose. She shivered in delight at the feeling of his warm caress and his whiskers lightly abrading her skin.

  “Ready for acting like we’re nothing but friends in front of everyone tonight?”

  “Not really.”

  “Me neither,” she agreed, pulling back a little so that she could examine his face. “Is Jude here yet?”

  “Yeah. I saw him when I was putting my suitcase in my room. Is Esme here?”