by Susan Arden
From this angle, he could stare across the side of her lovely cheek, and watch the flitting expressions pass over the contours of her face. She glanced downward and he felt her hands plucking his fingers, interlacing their fingers together. She exhaled through her nose, and incrementally shook her head as her body stiffened.
“What?” he asked, sensing she wanted to say something, and for some reason suppressed her thoughts. “Did something happen at your studio?”
“No. Nothing happened there. I finished the costumes for the recital. And really, it was a more than sedate day. I wish I had more to report. And you? I bet every day you’ve a ton of stories?”
“Yes. And no. Lots of stories but, unfortunately, they all involve one theme. Cattle. Or some variation on cattle. I think I’d bore a person after a week of the same subject. The list of chores is endless, or never-ending. I’m not sure if there’s a difference any more.”
She glanced over her shoulder, holding his gaze. “Are you tired of working on the ranch?”
“No, not tired. More like spreading out this vision before me, seeing this as my future, and wondering if I’ve got what it takes to show up here for the rest of eternity. Assessing whether this is my future, and how well that fits.” He used his free thumb to trace imaginary circles across her chest.
She lowered his fingers, guiding him to her breasts. The heave that accompanied her sigh caused her luscious skin to push against his thumbs. Liquid fire erupted in his veins. For an instant, he was tempted to slip back into her.
Lying next to her, he’d managed to keep a metaphorical iron grip on his erection while he strained against thrusting back into her again. For a second, his cock stiffened hard enough to make his balls jerk, and empty his mind of all need except her body.
“Are you getting hungry?” he asked, his voice considerably lower than it had been all night.
“Oh, jeez. I’m so thoughtless. You worked all day and must be starved.” She twisted, attempting to move in his arms.
“Naw.” He refused to let her wriggle away. “Hush. I’m fine. Being next to you feeds a deeper hunger. One more pressing.”
“What shall I wear? Do you have family visitors that drop over?”
“I’d prefer if you came to the kitchen as you are. But I never know about family intruders.” On getting up, he introduced her to his drawer of T-shirts.
She picked an older Harley T-shirt he hadn’t seen in ages. He stared, spellbound, as she stretched, unaware that he was watching. She snaked her arms overhead, causing her perky tits to rise, pulling in her flat stomach, and then he feasted on the triangle of copper hair between her legs. The T-shirt fell over her body and knocked the breath out of his chest. Damn. Never had any of his shirts looked that enticing. Slipping on shorts, he palmed a condom, shoving it into his pocket.
They walked out into the living room, and immediately Gillian bent down to scoop Chance into her arms. “Sweet puppy,” she crooned.
“You stay here. I’ll go heat up the food.” Seeing the pup in her arms as she sat on the sofa, his shirt riding up her legs, had him grinding his teeth. “I’m jealous of that dog of yours. He’d better watch out. I don’t take kindly to sharing.”
“I’ll take him outside. May I borrow your shoes?” She cocked her head toward his sandals.
“Help yourself. Whatever you need.” He stopped before saying, what’s mine is yours. Shit. This was moving fast. Too fast, and if he wasn’t careful, he’d scare her witless with his urge to possess her body. He couldn’t very well go after her volition as well. Sighing, it was hard to remain mindful that Gillian was young. A hell of a lot younger than him, with her whole life in front of her.
Mine rang out, over and over. He was her first lover. “Mine,” he breathed out.
He let his gaze follow her outside as she walked Chance. Darkness surrounded her, and his heart pounded. His hackles rose. Shit, nothing could harm her out back, and what was he becoming, with these urges that bordered on making him a possessive prick? Or, maybe he just cared. He swore, turning away. He entered the kitchen, flinging open the refrigerator. What he needed to do was exorcise her from his mind, stop her playing like a song he couldn’t forget. Of course she would linger, with a body that didn’t quit and a sweet-as-hell personality.
Time was on his side. He’d fuck her long. Fuck her hard. Come hell or high water, he’d fuck her out of his system. He shifted his gaze back to Gillian, standing on the edge of his pool; for some reason, that didn’t seem plausible, even if he’d had two hundred years available. His swollen cock stood straight up, hugging his belly. Ready. Stephen closed his eyes and counted to ten, wrestling his hunger to go and take her on the table outside.
* * *
By the time they’d eaten, really snacked on the food, he’d waited all he could and backed her up against the counter. “Baby, I’ve got to get back inside you.”
“Stephen, I don’t think I could ever refuse you anything.”
“I want to teach you so many things. Would you say you’re the adventurous type?” Maybe she’d run her course in his bloodstream by being straight-laced. She’d remained a virgin longer than many of the women—actually, all of the women—he’d run across in the last ten years.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Everything. And nothing. I just want to know if there’s anything you wouldn’t consider doing?”
She eyed him peculiarly. “Group sex is not my thing. Is that what you had in mind?”
“Hell no. I’d never share you with anyone. Male or female. I want you for myself. I meant with me. Only me. Just you and I are invited to this party.”
He turned her around, laying her over the counter, and spread her legs. The T-shirt she wore was hoisted over her hips. He lowered his shorts, removing the condom from the pocket. To say he’d not already planned this would be dishonest. Since the first time he’d kissed Gillian, he’d already imagined a hundred positions he’d fuck her in, to a mutual surrender.
After he’d unfurled the condom down his throbbing cock he stood behind her, spreading her ass cheeks with his fingers. He knew this was going to be quick. Touching her, he slipped a finger into her wetness. His cock very much wanted entry. “Tell me if this feels uncomfortable.”
She’d tightened up again. He had to push with more force than he’d ever mustered to slip his finger into a woman. That one thought had his dick pulsating. Gillian was his.
He kissed her shoulder, taking possession of her breasts, but his hands slid down her, coming to rest upon the curve of two hips; two hips very much his. He steadied himself, holding his head against her opening. Fuck, he wanted to slam into her. “Hold on.”
She turned. “Where are you going?”
“No. Don’t move. I had an idea, so you’d be able to take me. You’re so tight I don’t think I could get my pinky inside you.”
“Is that bad?” The sight of her, creased brow, naked bottom, and his dick outstretched, made him act more swiftly.
Reaching for the bottle of oil, he exhaled, “No. When you squeeze around me, it feels very good. Here. Some lube will be make this experience a whole lot easier on you.”
“Do you think it hasn’t been pleasant?” she whispered.
“Beautiful, I’m fully aware that you climaxed several times, dousing me with your juices. Christ, you’re hot, but tomorrow, I don’t want you sore. I want to repeat what we’ve done. The first time is bound to have you swollen. I want access to your sweet pussy tonight, tomorrow, every day if I can. We just need to be careful. This is about as natural as we can get. No chemicals.”
“Have you used things from your kitchen…before?” she asked.
“Never. You ask a million questions. Look, you’re the first woman I’ve ever brought back here. I don’t want to share you. Maybe I’d like to photograph you. Sure, I’d love to fuck you seven ways from Sunday. And if you let me, I’ll teach you some decadent ways to fulfill my fantasies. I promise, I’m not toying with yo
u.”
From her winged brow to the slant of her lips, his admission became the missing compound in this chemical reaction. She lifted off the counter, removing his borrowed T-shirt, and took the bottle out of his hands. “Then let me help you help me.”
He watched her drizzle the oil into her palm, set the bottle down, and rub her hands together. The moment her warm, oil-laden hands touched him, he’d swear on a stack of Bibles, she turned him on as no other woman had in his experience.
Inside her palm, the way she held on to him, moving her hand in just the right way, he flinched. In a few hours she’d mastered the art of touch and seduction, and he’d fallen under her spell. His half-closed lids opened, staring as she drizzled the oil down upon her breasts. The droplets rolled, leaving oily, golden trails down her skin. Droplets ran down her breasts, and he held his breath as each of her nipples peaked into glistening pebbles. Damn, he added another vision to what he’d soon do with her.
“Come here, your turn now.”
“Catch me.” She smiled coyly at him, rubbing her palms down her body. The way she traced her breasts had his cock hardening, painfully throbbing.
Stephen didn’t risk taking hold of her and pulling her to him. “Don’t, Gillian. You might fall.” His hunger had grown, and he’d not chance her slipping on the oil-splattered floor should she wish to play harder-to-get than just teasing.
The moment she glanced down, he was on her. The naked flesh over his chest, torso, and thighs came into contact with soft, yielding skin. Hers.
“Naughty girl.” Gillian within his grasp enthralled him. Lazily, he let his hands swim over her body. Firm and warm under his fingers, he rubbed the oil into her skin. “God, you’re a sight oiled up. I bet you’d look amazing in a bikini on the beach. You’ve the type of body that should be wearing one of those fancy thongs with metal fittings at each hip.”
“And how would you know about such bathing suits?” she laughed, pushing her hips back against his stiff dick.
“I flipped through plenty of catalogues at my parents’ house. You can imagine, considering my sister, that I’m well-versed in all sorts of feminine fashion with her nonstop chatter. But enough about all that. I’ve got something better to show you. Back to where we started.”
He positioned her on the counter, braced her hips, and gently moved her feet apart. His cock was lubed and ready; then, on second thought, he dripped oil into his own palm. Setting the bottle down, he rubbed his palms. The friction created erotic noises, and Gillian swayed her bottom to the rhythm, making him wonder if he could hold out much longer.
“That sounds provocative, doesn’t it?” she asked.
Pro-fucking-vocative is what she was. Gillian was even more beautiful with this fire lit. A glow suffused her cheeks, lighting her eyes that flashed over her shoulder.
“I’ll show you what sounds even more provocative.” Down between her legs, he rubbed his hands, saturating her pussy. Oh yeah, back to where he’d left off. Now she was bathed in oil. Stephen hiked her hips, pressing the tip of his dick against her. He nudged forward, spreading her. Her pussy clenched over his crown.
Gillian whimpered, allowing him entry into a warm and welcoming channel. With her palms flat on the counter, she arched. The slight movement had her tightening all around him.
Now or never. He moved forward, entering into her pussy in one forceful thrust. Gillian gave in to him, stretching around him. She was so damn hot—a surge of excitement vaulted up his spine.
Grunting, he exhaled, willing to admit nothing had ever felt this good. He moved his hands to her shoulders. “Baby, I’ve got to do this my way. Okay? I don’t know if I can hold out. Bring yourself to the edge with me,” he said in low, deep voice.
Unable to stop himself, he flexed his hips and thrust hard into Gillian once again. The pressure had him raw, imbuing him with a hundred and one colors of crazed sex positions, and this one, his dick inside Gillian, was at the top of his list. This primal need to dominate had him pounding into her. Whimpers escaped from her lips, while muted sounds exited from his mouth.
He put his hand over hers, rubbing her clit, faster with each of his strokes. A fiery heat flashed up his calf muscles, a tightening of his whole body ensued, and then the jittery pins-and-needles assaulted the base of his spine. “Hold on, baby. This is it.”
He slammed into her, unwilling to break a pace that had him rising up onto the balls of his feet. Closing his eyes, he moved his hands, clasping his fingers over her tiny waist so that as he exited her opening, rimming her pussy, in a flash he pounded back into her. For each stroke, he brought her back onto his cock, going farther into her. God, it felt as though he needed to get inside her, claim her, and make her remember him.
Why? The question took too much energy, when all he could do was move in and out of Gillian, blindly pounding against her bottom. His release exploded from him.
Falling over her, he kissed the space between her shoulder blades, tasting salt, tasting her. His cock throbbed, deeply embedded within her body, and for moments all he could do was hold on to her. When their breaths were no longer ragged gasps, he slid out of her, before picking her up into his arms. “Mine,” he uttered on the way back to his bedroom.
Chapter 8
Stephen had the power to expand her horizons in a single night. “Mine,” took on dimensions she only knew in his presence. He’d taken her, only to rest minutes and then be ready for more. The gauzy curtains allowed the first rays of sunlight into his bedroom. Shadowed, his body’s contours came into sharper contrast.
Oh, but the things he kept doing to her. Moans weren’t enough. Gillian bit her tongue in order to stifle a shout. No use.
Her voice called out, “Stephen!” Over and over, she pierced the quiet of his bedroom. His name rolled from her tongue, as smoothly as if she’d been screaming his name for years.
No longer inexperienced, her body knew his scent, his voice, his touch. And by the morning, she’d grown comfortable with his mouth, tongue, and hands exploring every inch of her skin. He claimed her, all right. And then repeated the act of taking her.
Watching him tongue her, his face up against her pussy, only made each of the heart-stopping throbs intensely punctuate his hot licks. Jesus, his head between her thighs was the most incredible sight she’d ever witnessed. Or could ever imagine.
Her legs were thrown over his shoulders, his beard tickling the insides of her legs, and his smoldering mouth sucked on her, masterfully extracting from her another mind-blowing orgasm.
“That’s it, baby. All for me.” His sexy voice had her pulling his hair. “God, you taste sweeter each time you climax.” His lips grazed her slit. And then he rubbed his goatee over her clit. She melted, the body-bowing shudder struck her hard. His tongue and chin teased her into one more clench. One more explosion.
“Stephen, you’ve got me nearly hoarse from screaming all night.” She cradled his head that lay upon her belly, stroking his hair, the side of his face. She traced the line of his beard, the angles of his face, and edge of his lips. Something powerful…a constriction acted upon her diaphragm when he tenderly kissed the edge of her hip. “I don’t want you to go.”
“But I absolutely must. This is the day I visit Nana and we have breakfast.” In truth, she had no desire to leave, but supposed the moment was inevitable, no way to escape. She wiggled her bottom, inching away from being beneath him. Without warning, he covered her body with his, taking hold of her wrists and hauling her arms above her head.
“I could call and make your apologies. Say you’ve gotten tied up.” He chuckled, then nipped her jaw, kissing a path to her mouth. His teeth snagged and held her lip. The perfect pressure to keep her quiet. And then his cock found her, pushed into her, and he began to thrust while keeping her immobilized. “Stephen,” she moaned. “Please.”
“Barely six. Who eats this early? Except ranchers, and I’ve feasted upon a banquet.” His hot mouth found her sweet spot; the one he’d explored, su
cked, and nipped until she bucked against him.
Dear God, the man knew just what to do. Her will splintered under his assault. “That’s mighty unfair of you.”
“Haven’t you heard? Leveling the playing field is permitted. Now, if I could only get my fill. And I might, if you stayed a little bit longer.”
“But I absolutely must get going, regardless of the subterfuge you pull. This is the day I visit Nana and give her the rundown on town gossip.”
“Pulling out the Nana card. You sure know how to power-punch a man set on taking advantage of you.” He kissed her into silence before releasing her hands.
This would make the third time she’d articulated that she must get ready to leave. The other two times had resulted in him bringing her back to his bed. He’d run out of condoms after all the times he’d made love to her, but that hadn’t stopped him this last time. She wondered if he would buy them in mega-packs, or if she should seek a better form of protection.
“I’ll make an appointment with a doctor. For birth control.”
“Are you sure? Do you want me to go with you?”
She stared back at him. His blue eyes had her caught between the novelty of having a man care enough to want to be involved in her life, and the need to protect herself from his overpowering possessiveness, which might evaporate one day to leave her teetering without a net to catch her fall. “Well, let me see if I can get in, and when. I’ll let you know.”
“Promise me, one day you’ll let me take advantage of you. Completely.”
“You mean, more so than last night?” she asked, stroking his face.
“Beautiful baby, it’s about trust and the things I can show you. I thought that’s what started us down this path.” He rolled off her, kissing her shoulder. She glanced away, not wanting him to note that her skin had become a field of chill bumps thanks to his mouth, or that her pulse raced each time their bodies connected.
Would this become old to him, routine, and then a chore? They’d not talked about being exclusive. Maybe he’d still make his rounds, getting shackled to someone else’s bed. No. This wasn’t the way to leave, wanting more than he’d offered. And that was a complete universe. Clingy women were totally uncool for a man such as him. She’d have to learn fast and learn well the art of the morning after.
