by Christa Wick
The crying continued. I wanted to bang my fucking head against the wall for making her feel this way.
"Baby..."
Not knowing what to say, I let my hands and lips try to soothe her with a whisper of kisses to her neck and the stroke of my fingers over her curves. My body responded far sooner than hers. The random jerks as she tried to control her tears caused mini-collisions between our bodies. Only, with my cock hard and in need, each soft spasm that ran through her felt like a hammer hitting me.
My hands stopped, my fingers dug into her hips. I released a hot breath against her ear. Nothing was working, not the soft strokes to quiet her, not my tongue or brain to form words that could hope to draw Lacey out of her present state of mind.
Rolling away, I sat up, the action evoking a sharp cry from her.
Okay—so she didn't want me to leave.
I reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on before I stood and closed the curtains. Returning to the bed, I started to peel the blanket away from her. She didn't resist, just curled protectively around her core.
Looking at her pained me on two fronts. I hated that she felt the need to shield herself from me. Then there was the too thin nightgown that was both virginal and sexy as hell—making it dangerous with the way my emotions overflowed. I was angry at myself, angry at Austin, aroused just by being in the room with her and having spent a few short minutes pressed against her warm, soft body.
I wanted to comfort her.
I wanted to sneak my hand under the hem of her nightgown.
I wanted to dry her tears.
I wanted to stroke a finger or a firm thumb between her legs...
"Lace," I said, need and frustration turning my voice to a growl. "You started this. I need you to face me and deal with it. You're not weak, so stop curling up in a ball and hiding."
She flounced onto her back, the abrupt movement causing the bottom of her nightgown to twist and ride high up her thighs. She quickly shoved it back down then hugged her arms against her chest, her face directed at the ceiling.
The whole thing was entirely too cute and eased a little of my tension. Lacey wasn't the kind of girl to throw a hissy fit. Not even a mild tantrum. The flounce was completely new behavior. After the life she'd been through, especially the years living with her mother after her father's death, the girl had earned the right to show a little attitude.
Her plump bottom lip disappeared between her teeth, re-emerged sparkly then disappeared again as she bit at it.
"Something to say?" I asked.
Her face scrunched. "Austin came by, didn't he?"
"He did."
The scrunch tightened then she blew a puff of air to blow away a few strands of hair clinging to her cheeks. "I wasn't trying to get you fired. I just don't know that I can—"
Her hands stopped hugging her long enough to jump up and make air quotes.
"Look at you anymore," she continued.
"He didn't fire me," I assured her. She relaxed for a second before I eradicated her newfound ease with two words. "I quit."
That plump bottom lip started to quiver. Fresh tears swam in her eyes. A few more seconds of building or a slight tilt and they would certainly spill down her round cheeks.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "You shouldn't have done that. I'll explain to him it was all my fault—"
"Nothing is your fault, baby." I leaned over her, one hand braced against the bed and brushed my lips across hers. "Regardless of what happens or doesn't happen next, it was time for a change."
She had resumed hugging herself after that air quote. Her hands unwound. She pressed her palms lightly against my chest. I could feel the tip of her manicured nails and sensed her need to dig into my flesh. I let a little of my weight settle against her. She had a frequent habit of chewing at that bottom lip of hers and I had been wanting for so long to take a little bite—so I did.
A bite, then a soft kiss and an upward sweep of my tongue so that the tip curled under her top lip, letting me suck it into my mouth. Her nails pressed into me, but so did her hips. Her breathing instantly accelerated. When that sweet ass of hers hit the mattress again, she started to squirm.
I broke the wet kiss and studied her face. Her cheeks were flushed a dark rose. A light sheen of perspiration slicked her forehead.
"Wh-what happens next?" she asked.
Good question.
8
Even after I had made my decision to come into the bedroom and give Lacey what she said she wanted, my thoughts kept swinging wildly back and forth. My body was fully on board with the idea of giving her what she had asked for—me, her, me in her, after I'd tasted every inch of her lush flesh and driven her to climax half a dozen times.
But that damn brain of mine kept interfering.
"I can't take your flower, Lacey.” My chest had to squeeze the oxygen out of my lungs just to get the words out. My aching balls fought each syllable's release. "But I am going to give you one hell of a night—one we'll both enjoy."
A small laugh erupted from her. Slightly shocked by the sudden change in her mood, I raised up a little for a better look at her face.
"I can't see," she started, a soft smile curling her lips, "but I'm pretty sure there's no flower hiding down there."
My chest and throat tightened with the need to correct her. She was sweet and innocent, but she sure as hell knew what I was talking about—my cock inside her sweet folds, slick with her cream.
With a growl, I dipped my head and nipped lightly at her ear. "I'm saying I don't think you have a lot of experience. Your decision-making is clouded by emotions and I'm trying to make sure that you'll have fewer regrets in the morning."
"I know." Her hands, warm and moist, found the sides of my waist. She wrapped her fingers around me as she took a deep breath. She extended her neck, exposing her throat to me as she tried to put our bodies in closer contact. "But you're putting too much value on my flower being saved when you're the one I want to have pluck it."
A small giggle escaped her, the sound reminding me just how damn young she was—eight years my junior and barely old enough to legally drink alcohol. Never mind that I had killed more than one man in combat by the time I was twenty-two.
I managed to escape her hold on me despite the temptation of just letting her suck me into something she would eventually regret. Studying her face for deception, I decided to find out how much experience she already had.
"Have you kissed a man?" I asked. "Not a boy and not some affectionate peck on a relative's cheek, but a man."
"Yes," she answered, slow to respond.
I've spent time interrogating enemy combatants—but never when I was crowding their body, looking down at them. All the little physical gestures, a turn of the shoulder, a micro-jerk of the finger, were lost because of the position of our bodies. And I couldn't look in her eyes to see if she was lying because all I would see was a beautiful, bright blue with thick, dark blond lashes. So I only had her slow response, the flush of her cheeks and that slight forward push of her mouth to go by.
But those signals, as discrete as they were, told me she was lying.
I didn't really care about a kiss. That was no experience at all, even if she had spoken the truth. "Has a man touched your breasts?”
Her cheeks went from a pale flush to a dark, flaming red.
"That's a 'no,'" I chuckled.
She huffed at me. "Maybe I'm just embarrassed to admit someone has?"
I grinned, strongly suspecting she was completely inexperienced. Her mother had kept her shut up most of the time. And no matter how plastic Amanda Long was, she had to know a great many men would find her daughter beautiful. As much as the woman complained about looking after a blind child, I was certain she didn't want to add a grandchild to her obligations.
"If you say so, baby girl. What about heavy petting? Have you allowed a man to do that?"
Her face pinched together in pure confusion.
Shifting my weight to my
other arm, I reached down and placed my palm over her mound and gave a short rub followed by a rough squeeze.
"Heavy petting," I repeated.
Lacey gasped and then her eyes rolled upward. Her thighs relaxed, letting me secure a better grip on her flesh down there. I gave another kneading, hard squeeze. She shook and the very visible effect on her sanity had my cock hard as hell.
"Baby, no man has touched you like that, or caressed your breasts or even given you a heated kiss," I said, my head diving down so I could speak directly into her ear. "If he had, you wouldn't be so quick to dissolve into a wet pool."
A little whimper told me I was right.
Damn me, but I wanted to be first in. Wanted to be the only man who spent his nights sampling her lush body and his days basking in her warm, airy presence.
"I won't take you all the way," I promised with a growl. "For more reasons than one. I'm set up here to work, not play. I don't have anything to protect you against pregnancy."
Of course, there was always the possibility of pulling out, but I knew once I was in her, I would stay in her until we both came—more than once.
I exhaled, her skin reflecting my hot breath back at me. "I promise you will be enjoying what I do too much to think about what I'm not doing. Kissing, licking..."
My hand tugged up the hem of her nightgown. I pushed my fingers under the band of her underwear before I continued convincing her with my words. "Fingering, more licking and sucking...a lot of sucking, Lace."
She was trembling so hard that I knew it wouldn't take much more to trigger her first orgasm of the night. I stopped talking and kissed the line of her jaw as I stroked one index finger against her clit. I started at the bottom, under the hood where that small pearl of pleasure had hardened, then up all the way to the top split of her labia. Then down to the small hollow of flesh filled with her excitement. I slicked the wet juices up, wiggled my finger against the pearl then a hard line up to the top split again.
Lacey gasped at the sensations. My mouth slid quickly to cover hers. My tongue pushed in, explored the contours of the wet cavern as I fingered the line of her pussy with alternating strokes of hard and soft.
She bucked beneath my hand. I palmed the flesh, rubbed, kneaded, kept the pressure hard and forced another buck and then another.
"First one was free," I said, breaking the kiss to place another, gentler one against the center of her forehead. "The rest you have to pay for by agreeing to just two things."
The air left her lungs with a reluctant surrender. "That you won't take my virginity."
"That' number one. The second requirement is that you don't let tonight make your decision for you. This isn't some bargain where I spend the night with you and you have the surgery. You have to decide based on what you think is the best choice for the rest of your life."
"I agree," she said, her fingers lacing behind my neck.
Her wet, choking voice signaled that fresh tears were imminent. I didn't want to lose her to crying again. I kissed my way out of her embrace and told her to stand so I could remove her nightgown.
Reaching the edge of the bed, she hesitated, her head turning in the direction of the bed lamp. Remembering what Lacey had said in the living room about the descriptions of her body she had overheard, I figured the light was making her nervous.
Gently, I pressed two fingers beneath her chin and directed her attention towards me. "You said you would miss seeing what little of me you can—do you want to lose that?"
She drew a deep breath but didn't answer.
“Baby,” I coaxed. "You're so fucking sexy and beautiful. From the first day, looking at you has had an effect on my body."
She tilted her head. I recognized confusion in her expression.
"An effect?" she asked.
Damn, she was seriously sheltered.
"Give me your hand."
I couldn't keep the smile out of my voice. She lifted her arm. I guided her fingers toward my rock hard cock and traced the prominent edges of my erection. She drew back, escaping my grip, and then she slowly reached forward and made contact on her own. She ran her fingers up and down, the tips spread, and then she palmed as much of it as she could. She stroked down, cupping my balls...
And squeezed.
9
I almost choked on my stomach.
Wheezing, I removed her hand and brought it to my lips. "Baby girl, if I’ve ever squeezed you like that, I'm truly sorry," I teased with tears of pain blurring my vision.
At her confused expression, I explained gently, "The...uh…male bits are more vulnerable than a woman's."
She jerked her hand away, her expression horrified. "Did I injure you?"
"No," I half-lied, stepping in close. "Just something to remember."
My hands drifted down her sides, memorizing her curves as I searched for the bottom hem of her nightgown. Finding it, I started to lift.
All the blood drained from her face and her legs went wobbly. She sucked a hard breath in, quickly released it and drew another. She would be hyperventilating in a few seconds if she kept breathing like that.
"Sit down, Lace." I kept my hands on her, controlling the edge of her gown so that it wasn't trapped beneath her. I wanted to alleviate her anxiety, but that thin layer of cotton was coming off before the night was over.
"Tell me what you're thinking," I ordered.
"I'm scared," she answered, her breath still coming too fast. "Dizzy...I'm nervous that I don't know what to do, that you won't enjoy it."
I ran my hands along her thighs and nosed the erect tip of one breast. Finding the top of her thighs, I eased a thumb under the band of her panties. The anxiety hadn't dried her up. She was still wet from her climax. "Just be you and know that I'm nervous, too."
She curled her palms around my face and dipped her head down until our mouths were in kissing distance. "Really? But you're experienced."
"Not in this," I answered, voice shaking as I pulled my hands out from under her nightgown and held her hips. "Not with the way I feel."
"What way is that?" she asked and I silently cursed myself.
How could I tell her that I felt exactly like I had when the honor guard at my father's funeral played Taps or when Jonah died in my arms?
I cleared my throat and tried to play down what I had said.
"It's just that most sex is like going to the gym. There's the physical release, the pleasure, but it doesn't go any deeper than muscle."
I rested my head on her lap, my arms around her bottom in a loose hug. Suddenly, I felt very tired and suffocating in my memories. She stroked the edge of my jaw then ran the back of her fingers against my cheek.
"Are you okay?" she whispered. "Is the idea of being with me what’s making you sad?"
"No." I squeezed her. I didn't want to elaborate, but she would withdraw if I didn't. "It's just that I know being with you is going to change me permanently—that's what I've never experienced with a woman."
Looking up, I read fresh hurt in her face. She didn't believe me. Still on my knees, I straightened my body so I could capture her face. I kissed her softly on and around her mouth as I reassured her.
"Baby, I'm not sad and I don't want you to be sad. I want you soaked in pleasure."
My lips moved down her body. Words wouldn't work because she couldn't see how sincere I was, how earnest I was to give her what we both wanted. I kissed, sucked her nipples through the thin cotton shift, turning the material transparent so that I could see the rosy circle of her areola.
"It's time to stop talking and start loving, Lacey. Let me take your gown off."
Shyly, her movements awkward, she lifted her arms and let me strip away the fabric, leaving only her damp panties. Tossing the nightgown over my shoulder, I sank onto my knees again, torso bending so that my lips were once more level with her voluptuous breasts.
I cupped each one, lifting, tugging, sucking. I moaned against each nipple as I suckled. She squirmed against my hold, som
etimes pushing into it, sometimes pulling back. Her thighs parted. I dropped one hand to tease her pussy. My finger under her panties, spread in a V, I rubbed them up and down the sides of her clit until she was thrusting against my touch and groaning, the sound moving through her throat in a slow, insistent twist.
"Oh," she whispered. "It...it's happening again."
My chest swelled with a cocky pleasure that I was bringing her to a second climax. I slid the tips low to capture her pussy's lubrication so I could rub faster. Then I slowed, eased the pressure so that she scooted her bottom forward to the point she was perching on the edge of the mattress, her pelvis canted downward, the weight of her body changing the internal force against the back of her clit.
I resumed rubbing slow and hard as my mouth alternated from a sweet sucking of her nipples to the hard tease of teeth around the sensitive tips.
Her hands seized my shoulder. Nails threatened to penetrate the skin as a slow cry of release ripped through her throat. Her body hovered, ready to plunge off the bed. I cupped her mound, supporting her and squeezing as she rode out the last of her orgasm. Her cream filled my palm and I realized how parched I was from the need to taste her sweet pussy.
"That was amazing," she said, her voice soft and floating as I moved her to the center of the mattress and pushed her onto her back.
I took a few, long minutes looking at her beautiful body. A light sheen of perspiration coated her flesh, making everything glossy. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen. The hard nipples kept piercing the air above her as she took sharp, uneven breaths. Her stomach tensed and rolled as her lush bottom dug against the mattress and her spine arched upward.
Growling with need, I stripped the wet panties off, spread her thighs apart and bent her knees, planting her heels against the mattress. My lower body between her legs, I braced an elbow alongside each of her shoulders and gave her slow kisses until she quieted.
