Wanting You

by Nan Ryan

  And experienced an immediate ripple of added excitement when, gazing directly into her eyes, he announced in a low, husky baritone, “I’m going to take off your underwear, sweetheart.” His supporting arm tightened around her shoulders and he lifted her up so that she was in a sitting position. “Watch me, baby. Watch with me.”

  Shocked to the roots of her hair, but so thrilled and aroused she could hardly breathe, Anna could only nod. She did as he asked. Her feverish cheek pressed to his, she watched, entranced, as he effortlessly found the tape of her full petticoats, unhooked it and pushed them down. In seconds the white petticoats lay in a heap at her feet.

  Her breath caught when he laid his hand on her stomach atop her thin batiste underpants. Anna was now tingling and nervous and unsure if she wanted him to go further. Brit read her thoughts, knew her doubts. As his lean dark fingers began to ease the lacy underwear down, he murmured, “It’s all right, baby. You’re here in my arms and we’re all alone. There’s no one in the world but us. Just you and me.”

  A little gurgle of tumult laced with rising desire escaped Anna’s lips as indecision plagued her. The party’s music and laughter carried on the still night air and, just as her lace-trimmed underwear slid down her belly to her thighs, a booming skyrocket filled the stable with a blinding white light.

  During those seconds of bright illumination, Brit whisked her underpants completely off. He got only a fleeting look at her bare loveliness before the darkness enveloped them. But it was enough to make his already heated blood surge through his veins, scorching them.

  Her stomach was so flat as to be almost concave. Her prominent hipbones rose appealingly beneath the pale, luminous flesh. Her navel was tiny and turned inward, and a wispy line of golden hair trailed downward from that cute belly button to the shimmering triangle of dense golden curls between her thighs. Sheer silky stockings, supported by flirty, blue satin garters, encased her long, shapely legs. He decided to leave the stockings on. He liked the look of her in the stockings, found it incredibly sexy.

  A muscle twitched in his jaw.

  The sight of her lying trustingly in his arms, naked from the waist down, made his heart hammer in his bare chest.

  He cautioned himself not to give in to the fierce animal lust threatening to overcome him. Already he was tired of waiting, tired of wooing. He wanted to sweep the rest of her clothes away, free his aching tumescence from his tight trousers, push her stockinged legs apart and implant himself deeply within her. Then thrust forcefully into her until he shot off inside that slick wet warmth and shuddered in his release.

  Brit was sorely tempted to do just that, And more than likely it wouldn’t have mattered if he had. She was, after all, hardly an innocent. It surely wouldn’t be the first time an overly aroused male had pounded ruthlessly into her. A woman as fair, blond and beautiful as she couldn’t possibly have spent all those years among the Apache without…

  He didn’t want to think about that. Not now. He wanted to pretend that he was her one and only lover. To keep up that pretense, he would treat her as if it were true.

  Brit spread his hand on Anna’s bare, flat belly and felt the muscles quiver at his touch.

  “You are,” he said honestly, “the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

  “As beautiful as Beverly Harris?” Anna’s reply was totally feminine.

  “Much more beautiful,” Brit assured her. Pressing her head back against his supporting arm, he kissed her.

  His hot, insistent mouth holding hers prisoner and his warm hand on her trembling belly filled Anna with an all-encompassing heat. She sucked at his thrusting tongue and squirmed against his spread hand, unable to be still. When finally Brit ended the long, penetrating kiss, he left his lips on hers and said into her mouth, “I’m going to touch you now, baby. You want me to, don’t you? Make you feel good? Love you with my hand?”

  He kissed her again as his spread hand slowly slipped down between her parted legs and gently cupped her. For a long, lovely time he did nothing more. Just kissed her and kissed her while he possessively covered her soft groin with his hand. It felt very good to Anna and she sighed into his mouth, relaxing, enjoying the closeness.

  Finally Brit took his mouth from hers, raised his head and looked directly into her shining eyes as he parted the dense golden coils with his middle finger and gently touched that tiny button of slippery flesh he had exposed. Anna winced and immediately began to struggle.

  “No,” she whispered, “no, Brit. Stop, you must stop.”

  “Shh,” he soothed, and hugged her more closely to him. “Just let me touch you for a minute, baby. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

  And his long, lean finger began to slowly, skillfully circle that sensitive little bud of pure sensation. In seconds a silky wetness was flowing from her, and Brit dipped his fingers into that fiery liquid and spread the natural lubrication from the very top of her swollen cleft to that small, tempting opening that his hard male flesh would soon fill.

  “Stop, oh, stop,” Anna weakly whispered.

  But Brit knew she didn’t mean it. She was becoming so excited she was actually frightened by the depth of her desire. The longer his masterful fingers stroked and circled and caressed, the hotter she became, until she was near to hysteria.

  Brit stilled his fingers, gave her a chance to calm a little, to catch her breath. Then he started again. His middle finger, wet from her arousal, slid and stroked and teased until Anna was arching her hips and pressing herself against that teasing, torturing hand.

  Panting, jerking involuntarily, Anna felt as if the entire universe was located there between her legs where he was caressing her. As the incredible pleasure rapidly escalated, the terrible thought flashed through her mind that any minute he might take his hand away. Oh, God, she couldn’t stand it if he did. She’d die of agony if he left her like this before… “Don’t,” she murmured anxiously. “Don’t…stop. Oh, please, don’t ever stop.”

  “I won’t,” he assured her. “We’ve all night, sweetheart,” Brit added soothingly. “And there’s nothing I love more than touching you like this.”

  “Oh, Brit, Brit!” she sighed, and closed her eyes.

  He smiled as he watched the changing degrees of joy spread across her lovely face as he continued to patiently please and pleasure her. After only a few short moments, her ecstasy was quickly rising toward that badly needed climax.

  Brit knew just what to do to take her the rest of the way. He slipped his middle finger down and put the tip inside her for a moment. Then withdrew it and returned it to that pulsing nubbin of flesh. He repeated the exercise until she was left gasping and trembling. In seconds she was anxiously saying his name, her eyes gone wide with fear and delight.

  Then it happened.

  While the music played and the fireworks lit the stable and Brit’s nervous stallion snorted and whinnied in excitement, Anna’s release began. Brit stayed with her, holding her, stroking her, as her ecstasy built and grew so intense she could stand the burning bliss no longer. She screamed when the rising heat exploded deep inside her, even as a great barrage of fireworks exploded outside.

  Her awesome release came as the powerful fireworks again illuminated the lovers. Watching her, Brit got almost as much pleasure from Anna’s orgasm as she did. She was wild in her ecstasy, pitching and bucking and screaming his name.

  He held her and soothed her, kissing her temples and calming her until she sighed, collapsed and went totally limp in his arms. He allowed her to rest for a while. Then he sat her up on his lap and began tugging her white eyelet blouse out of her skirt’s waistband.

  “Now,” he said, slipping the blouse up over her head and tossing it aside, “I’m going to make love to you.” He unhooked her lace-trimmed camisole, swept it apart, cupped a warm bare breast.

  “I thought you already had,” she replied dreamily.

  “That was just the preliminaries,” he told her. “I haven’t begun to really make lov
e to you.”

  Anna sighed, put her arms around his neck, brushed a kiss to his lips and said, “Well, before you do, may I do to you what you just did to me?”

  Seventeen

  “You can do anything you want to me, sweetheart,” Brit calmly assured her, wondering worriedly how long he could continue to control his raging passion if she put her soft warm hands on him. “Anything at all.”

  He continued to dexterously undress Anna. Amazed by how adept he was at the task, she couldn’t help but wonder how many times he had done this. With how many women. Then his lips, warm and persuasive, brushed the side of her throat and she wondered no more.

  His hands gently caressing each portion of pale flesh he bared, then his lips paying homage, Brit adroitly swept the remainder of Anna’s clothes away, right down to the silk stockings, which he peeled swiftly off her long, slender legs. The entire task was completed with her sitting on his lap.

  Anna was now as naked as the day she was born, but she felt no embarrassment or shame. It seemed to her that it was the most natural thing in the world to be naked in Brit Caruth’s arms. She sighed and smiled and squirmed as he kissed her and whispered to her all the things he wanted to do with her, told her of the many ways he wanted to love her.

  The blood raced through her veins and she thrilled to the sound of that deep, masculine voice speaking of all the shocking, forbidden things that they would do together. She tingled from head to toe when Brit promised that before the night ended, he would possess her totally, would love her as she’d never been loved before.

  Excited by his amorous vows, Anna finally interrupted. Hugging his dark head to her bare breasts, she murmured against his midnight hair, “Brit, you promised you’d let me…” She inhaled deeply, whispered barely loud enough to be heard, “I can’t do what I want unless…you…you’ll have to take your clothes off.”

  She cupped his cheeks in her hands, lifted his face and looked at him. She said, “I want to touch you and please you the way you pleased me. You said you’d let me.”

  “How could I possibly refuse?” Brit replied. He kissed her quickly, then lifted her off his lap and sat her down gently beside him on the spread blanket. He removed his freshly polished black boots and socks, set them aside. He smiled at Anna and asked, “Want to turn your head now, while I undress?”

  “No,” she said truthfully. “I don’t. I want to watch you.”

  Brit swallowed hard. “As you wish.”

  He was on his feet in a flash, his hands at the buttons of his tight black pants. Silver conchos running down the outside of each trouser leg flashed in the darkness as he undressed. Her eyes riveted to him, Anna hastily lay down and stretched out on her back. From below she watched every move Brit made. In seconds he was discarding his trousers. Just as he tossed them aside, a bright explosion of fireworks bathed him in its radiant, revealing light.

  Staring, Anna found her breath caught in her throat.

  He stood there in all his wild naked beauty, his bronzed skin aglow in the brilliant light. He was godlike, splendid, a Greek statue come to life. A perfect male specimen so divine, so arresting, she felt as if she would be content to just lie and look at him forever. Before her curious gaze could focus on that powerful phallus thrusting horizontally from the dense growth of blue-black hair covering his groin, the light was gone.

  Darkness returned.

  Brit sank to his knees, stretched out on his back beside Anna. He sighed, took one of her small hands in his, raised it to his lips and kissed it. Then he carried her hand down to his belly, gently spread her fragile fingers and placed them squarely atop his heavy erection. He took his hand away.

  He folded his arms beneath his head and said, “Sweetheart, it’s all yours. I’m all yours.”

  Awed by the heat and hardness of him, Anna, never taking her hand from his flesh, eased up into a sitting position. Curious, enthralled, she carefully examined him, wanting to learn all there was to know about this beautiful bronzed body that was so different from her own.

  Innocently unaware that her stroking, seeking fingers had Brit in a state of unbearable arousal, Anna lovingly explored and inspected, thrilled by the way his responsive flesh seemed to have a mind of its own. The lightest brush of her fingertips caused the smooth, mushroom-shaped tip to rise and seek her touch.

  Guided by instinct, Anna, cupping him gently, possessively, suddenly popped a forefinger into her mouth. Then she painted the stirring tip of his throbbing erection with her wet fingertip and heard him groan deep in his throat.

  She looked at his face, saw that it was contorted. “Does that hurt?” she asked.

  “No,” he managed to reply. “No. Feels good.” He ground out the words.

  “Good,” she said, and returned to her delightful diversion.

  Brit allowed her to play, but it was pure agony for him, all he could do to keep from climaxing. Biting the inside of his bottom lip until he drew blood, he watched her through heavy-lidded eyes. The sight of her small, white hands enclosing him was so powerfully erotic he had to look away.

  His heart almost exploded when, gently gripping him with both hands, Anna impulsively bent her head and brushed a soft kiss on the jerking tip.

  Brit instantly rolled up into a sitting position, tore her hands from his flesh, drew her to him and kissed her passionately. While he kissed her, he eased her down onto her back.

  When their lips finally separated, he said hoarsely, “I can’t wait much longer, sweetheart. This body of mine wants to be on yours. In yours. Buried deep inside you.”

  “I’m yours for the taking,” she told him, and meant it.

  “Do you want me, baby?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then say it. Say ‘I want you, Brit. I want you inside me.’”

  Anna didn’t falter. Gazing lovingly up at his dark, handsome face, she said softly, adoringly, “I do want you, Brit. I want you inside me. I want you to stay inside me all through the night.”

  “Jesus,” Brit groaned, and anxiously swept a warm hand down her slender body. Anna involuntarily arched up to meet it. Looking into her eyes, he slipped his fingers between her legs and tenderly touched her. She was, he learned, not quite ready for him. Brit withdrew his hand, licked his fingers until they were gleaming wet, then returned them to her. As he caressed her, he leaned over and kissed her. Settling his lips warmly on hers, he kissed her again and again while his gentle fingers prepared her for total lovemaking.

  In a few short minutes she was hot and wet and ready. Brit’s lips left hers, slipped down over her chin. He nibbled and nuzzled his way downward, kissing her breasts, her stomach, her prominent hipbones.

  Then, urging her legs wider apart, he quickly moved between and lay lightly atop her. Bracing his weight on an elbow, Brit carefully inserted the stirring tip of his pulsating erection just inside her. He felt her body respond to his heat and hardness. But he didn’t immediately plunge into her.

  For several heartbeats he lay there unmoving between her spread thighs, letting the anticipation build, the passion burn higher. While he lay totally still with his hot rigid flesh cushioned by her soft, swollen sweetness, he lowered his face and pressed kisses to her feverish cheeks, her small ears, her open lips, her pale shoulders, her surging breasts.

  Raking his teeth over a distended nipple, he told her, “From the first minute I saw you, I dreamed of you being just as you are now. Naked and beautiful and hot and wet. And just for me. For nobody else but me.”

  “For you, Brit. Just for you, only for you.”

  “Baby,” he murmured as he changed positions slightly, put his hand between them, guided his throbbing flesh more securely inside her. He took his hand away, saw that her eyes had slid closed. “Open your eyes, sweetheart. Look at me. I want you to look at me while I love you.”

  Anna complied. She looked straight into his dark, sultry eyes as a new flash of fireworks washed over them, lighting their faces and bodies as if it were midday. It was then
that Brit thrust deeply into her. Their gazes remained locked throughout that swift, deep insertion of his rock-hard flesh in her yielding softness. With that first driving invasion, Anna experienced a shockingly intense pain. A burning, white-hot pain so acute, she wanted to scream at him to take it out, to stop, to let her go, she couldn’t stand it.

  But she didn’t.

  Anna was used to bearing pain without showing how much it hurt. Her years with the Apache had conditioned her to endure varying degrees of torture without so much as a whimper or change of expression. So she suffered this excruciatingly painful invasion of her body without resistance or altered countenance.

  Looking into her eyes as he thrust into her, Brit saw nothing on her face that gave away her distress. But her hot, sweet body was so incredibly small, so unbelievably tight, he momentarily wondered at her past sexual experience. He had such a difficult time forcing himself into her, it was almost as if she was a virgin. Untouched. Unused. Unprepared for what he had done to her.

  But that couldn’t be.

  The nagging possibility of her innocence quickly fled as her yielding flesh gripped and squeezed him, driving logical thought out of his head. He began to move within her and heard no pleas for him to stop. Soon she was moving with him, catching his rhythm, following his lead. And as they moved together, her sweet, hot body was relaxing and expanding to better accept him.

  The terrible discomfort Anna experienced with that first forceful thrust was now totally gone. Being stretched and filled with him no longer hurt. It felt good, right, wonderful. Pain had been replaced with pleasure. That growing pleasure was enhanced by the sight of Brit’s darkly handsome face above her own. It was incredibly thrilling to feel him moving inside her while she looked into his dark, beautiful eyes.

  It was glorious.

  For him.

  For her.

  While the rip-roaring party continued, with the music playing and the fireworks cannonading, and the gray stallion whinnied and kicked at the stall not ten feet from them, Anna and Brit lay on their bed of hay and made hot, passionate love as if there were no one else in the world but the two of them.