Bad Duke

by Emily Bishop

  My white lacy underwear are all that stand between him and my pussy. I’m hungry for his tongue, excited to feel him plunge it deep inside me once again. He slides my underwear down until they cross my feet and hit the floor, and then he spreads my knees and opens my center up to his hungry gaze.

  “I’m so thirsty.” He glances up at me with a wide grin, then lowers his head to my slit and leaves a nice wet streak down the middle with his tongue. I jump at the sensation, and he grips my hips with his hands to keep me in place. He spreads my opening with his fingers and slides his tongue inside before he slides right back out, leaving a furious longing it his wake.

  He slides it back in, then all the way out, nice and slow. No, not nice and slow. We’ve already done slow. I want more. I want it fast. I want it hard and deep.

  “Fuck me hard with your tongue. As hard as you can.”

  It’s a brave thing for me to ask, given my own chaste history, but I’m emboldened. I want what I want, and Lorn will give it to me. I simply have to ask. His tongue plunges deep into my pussy, and he pulls my thighs apart as he tongue-fucks me deeper than ever before, lapping along the sides of my cunt as he thrusts into me repeatedly.

  I’ve never been fucked by a tongue before. I’ve been licked. I’ve been sucked. This is a whole new level. His tongue is large enough to fill me, and it’s slick and slippery and delicious as he curls it all the way up and nearly reaches my g-spot.

  “More,” I beg. “Oh, please, more.”

  He picks up his pace and fucks me as hard as he can, his tongue straight out as it plunges in and out of me. He removes a hand from my thigh and presses down on my clit as he continues his pace, his tongue filling me then filling me again.

  I cry out and my legs shake with the delicious agony that is pleasure. With another lick of his tongue, I pulse around him, and I glance down. He’s licking up every last drop of my cum.

  “Mmm, that’s yummy.” He licks the side of my leg and looks up at me with mischievous eyes.

  I can’t speak or move. My whole body is numb from the explosion of it. He slides back up and takes me in his arms, and together we snuggle close as we watch the snow fall outside and I wait for my heart to stop pounding.

  “It’s too dangerous to trek down the mountain in this snow,” Lorn says, and I’m brought back to reality. “When the weather clears, of course.”

  “You think we’ll be OK until then?” I ask. Thoughts of Larry sitting outside, waiting for us to come out so he can take us down haunt my mind, and I nestle closer to Lorn.

  “Yes. With the weather like this, wherever he is, he won’t be able to move easily, or get far. The snow can prove to be our safest barrier. There’s too much risk of injury out there.”

  I want to believe him. I do. Something in me refuses, though. What is Larry doing at this moment? Does he know I’m here? Is he right outside the cabin, or is he far enough away that we’re safe from him?

  I don’t know. I hate that.

  “Looks like we’re stuck in this cabin together for the day.” Lorn doesn’t sound at all sad about that.

  I grin up at him. “Looks like it.”

  “What do you say to another delicious Lorn Hart breakfast, followed by some reading this afternoon? I have plenty of books we can enjoy while the snow falls. No other technology, really. I think I have a game of Jenga somewhere…”

  I laugh and press my face against his chest. “Why don’t we try a delicious Rayne Carr breakfast first, and then we can figure out how to entertain ourselves for the day.”

  Lorn grins down at me, and I give into the temptation to run my finger along his perfect little dimple, visible above his beard.

  “That sounds like a deal,” he says.

  Maybe today might involve some fun.

  Chapter Twenty

  Lorn

  I can’t help but sneak a glance as Rayne slides out of bed and back into her jeans. A pang of disappointment washes over me as the denim glides up over her waist, once again concealing the perfect flesh beneath.

  She limps a little as she makes her way out of the room, and a small trickle of guilt slithers down my belly. I probably shouldn’t have started the morning that way, but the dream I had about her last night gave me no other choice. I had to get release. I happened to get caught.

  It ended quite well for us both, anyway. With that thought in mind, I push the guilt back as I rise out of bed and find my own clothing again. By the time I’m out of my room, the salty scent of bacon permeates my senses, and I inhale as my stomach grumbles with excitement.

  I walk into the kitchen to find Rayne once again cooking up some eggs, but this time, she tosses the bacon in and mixes it all together.

  “My dad used to make them like this. The bacon grease brings out the flavor in the eggs.”

  I step up behind her and place my palms on her shoulders before I drop a kiss against her temple. Since when did I become so sentimental? I’m a little taken aback by the tender gesture, so I step back and set the table for breakfast. If I busy myself, perhaps my thoughts won’t stray to places I don’t want them to go.

  We enjoy a delicious meal together. It might be the first one we’ve shared that didn’t end in a fight. Afterward, I carry Rayne over to the couch and set her gently down. I place a blanket on her lap and prop up her foot.

  “This is some first-class service,” she says with a smirk. I can’t help but smile.

  I like taking care of her. It’s good to help another person again. A beautiful, intelligent, funny person who happens to do amazing things in the bedroom.

  Focus, Lorn. I glance at her propped-up foot and remind myself that she is in no condition for the acrobatic sex I’ve got dancing around in my head. I pull a few books from one of my shelves and place them between us before I settle in myself.

  “Is this what you do, when there isn’t anyone here to constantly rescue?” she asks.

  I nod. “Yes. I do a lot of reading. There’s a small library in town that often gets new books, so I can keep up with the world on some level. Sometimes I go down and read the newspapers, but I find them a bit depressing to read for too long.”

  “The news or the society columns?” she asks, ever perceptive.

  Shrewd little thing, isn’t she?

  “I don’t like to remember that the world is carrying on while I stay frozen in time. Or maybe it’s that I don’t want to remember that world at all.”

  “Maybe you miss it, and you don’t want to admit it to yourself.”

  I grin. She thinks she knows, but she has no idea.

  “Never,” I say. I sort through the little pile of books and select one. I open the pages and bury my face behind it, effectively ending this strain of conversation. It’s not one I particularly want to have.

  I hear Rayne sort through the books, and when I glance over the top of mine, she’s snuggled in, reading a biography. The day passes like this, peaceful and quiet. We take breaks from our books only to snack or go to the bathroom or discuss what we’re reading. I find that having a mini book group is enjoyable. I’ve often only had my own opinion to consider.

  “I can’t believe what this girl survived. It’s… unthinkable.” Rayne’s eyes are wide with wonder as she stares at me. She reads a passage of a young girl’s determination to survive in the worst circumstances.

  I nod. “Puts things into perspective a bit, doesn’t it?”

  Rayne nods. “Indeed. Perhaps our own problems aren’t as bad as we make them out to be.”

  “We are bundled in with the threat of a stalker beyond these walls, so I wouldn’t discredit our current problems entirely.”

  I regret the comment as soon as it comes out. Her expression closes, and she focuses back in on the book without another word.

  Dinner is a quiet affair. I still don’t have much, so we end up eating another box of pasta. I want to give her so much more. Rayne deserves a four-star meal at an exquisite restaurant. The closest thing to gourmet we have around her
e is IHOP, and it’s fifty miles away.

  Rayne makes no complaints over my dinner, though. Her shoulders are slumped, her face somber. I try and cheer her up a few times, and she does laugh, but clearly her mind is elsewhere.

  A surge of white-hot rage streaks through me. Rayne is strong. The fact that this man has rendered her so fearful has me seething. Darkness deepens, and she yawns. I make no move to touch her.

  “Let’s get some sleep. We should be able to move easier in the morning, now that the snow’s stopped for a while.”

  She glances in the direction of my bedroom, but she instead heads toward the couch and covers herself with a blanket. “Goodnight, Lorn. Thank you for a lovely day.”

  Does she have cabin fever? The fact that she’s so down has me worried, and I care about this woman’s happiness.

  Huh.

  I leave her alone and walk into my own room. It’s been a lazy, quiet day, and as I sink beneath my blankets, I have no trouble drifting off to sleep. I’m ready to take action tomorrow, and the sooner I go unconscious, the better.

  A noise wakes me in the middle of the night. I blink my eyes open and glance at my bedroom clock, which shows no time.

  Power’s out.

  Damnit.

  There is only one landline on this property, and it’s at the main cabin. It, too, is powered by electricity, which always felt strange to me, but that’s the way things are now. Without that, we have no way to contact the authorities if something were to happen. When the power’s out here, I can guarantee that it’s out there, too.

  We can’t be without power.

  I slide out of my bed and open my bedroom door. Rayne is asleep on the couch, but when I walk past to put on my boots, she stirs and rises.

  “What is it?” Her voice is groggy with sleep, her hair tousled. An urge to kiss her head hits me again, but I resist.

  “Power’s out. I’ve got to go start the generator at the main house. It has a line that extends to the surrounding cabins.”

  “Why do you have to do that now? Surely, we can sleep through it and do it in the morning.”

  “Unfortunately, it can’t wait.” I realize then that I can’t leave her alone. She’s vulnerable, and that man could possibly be watching. She knows this, too, because she pushes the blanket off and locates her own boots.

  “You sure this trek won’t be dangerous at night?” she asks.

  I grab a pair of headlamps and toss one to her.

  “Naw. We’ll be careful. Let’s get the generator going, and then we can get back here and get some sleep.”

  “Sleep sounds great,” she says.

  I notice that she’s not limping anymore. A day of rest can work wonders on human bone and sinew. Luckily it wasn’t as half as bad as it looked.

  Together, we zip up our jackets and step out into the dark night. Above us, the stars are a magnificent tapestry of dotted lights, so many of them visible away from light pollution. I turn on my headlamp and lead the way toward the main cabin with Rayne close behind.

  I’m hyperaware of my surroundings. Myriad things could jump out at us, and not the least of which is a murderer with bloodlust for Rayne. I focus on the heat from her body behind me, the sound of each breath, each step. The woods around us are silent and shadowy. I glance from side to side to keep an eye in as many directions as I can.

  The clearing opens up to the hill, and the main cabin appears below. There are no lights, no sound. Usually, we keep a porch light on for any tenants who want to enjoy a late-night game session, or who have to walk back to their cabins from one. Generally, that’s more of a summer issue, but I like to keep it on year-round.

  One never knows when they might need light.

  I trek sideways down the hill and keep an eye on Rayne. She slips, and I grab her hand, holding her upright. Together, we make it to the bottom and walk behind the cabin to the generator.

  “Let me get some more gas.” My breath evaporates in the frigid air, and I keep an eye on Rayne even as I step into the shed for more gasoline. When I bring it back out, Rayne stands next to the generator with her arms wrapped around her middle.

  “Won’t be more than a second,” I say, popping open the cap to the generator and pouring in the gas. Because of Rayne’s quick work before, I turn on the machine and it rumbles to life without hesitation. The porch light turns on around the corner, and something moves in a tree to our left.

  I lurch toward the floodlight switch and flip it up. Bright light pours from the building into the woods, and I stomp out to go see if I can find whatever moved.

  Or whomever.

  “Lorn?”

  Rayne’s voice is quiet and fearful. It fuels my rage. I don’t like feeling like a cornered rabbit. If this asshole is trying to play mind games, he picked the wrong place to do it. I don’t fuck around.

  I did learn a thing or two about self-defense while in prison.

  I scan the trees but find nothing and no one. When I return to Rayne, I find her shivering.

  “I wish I had cell-phone service,” she says between chattering teeth.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “I could search online, see if there’s anything on Larry’s whereabouts. Do some research, you know?”

  She’s not wrong. Having the Internet to do some digging on this guy could put our minds at ease, if we could find anything.

  “Tomorrow we’ll hike out to a place with reception. We can do some research then.”

  “What about the snow?” she asks.

  “We’ll be fine. We need to get some answers, and if we have to hike up a mountain to get the signal for them, so be it.”

  I slide my arm around her waist and guide her back toward the hillside. “Let’s get back home and get cozy again. I shouldn’t have brought you out here.”

  “There’s no way I was staying in that cabin alone,” she says.

  Once again, a pang of anger hits me at that comment. Rayne doesn’t feel safe alone. My grip around her waist tightens until we reach the hill and I have to let go. My gaze scans the horizon, and I glance behind us regularly. Is there someone there, or is my imaginations playing tricks on me?

  How much of this is real?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Rayne

  The sound of twigs breaking and snow falling from branches has me jittery. I try to appear calm as my head darts from side to side. I’m waiting for it. If I’m going to be attacked, it might as well be now, when I have Lorn to protect me. I stare at his massive back as he treks ahead of me, also casting his light in every direction. He glances back to check on me regularly, and I can’t help but feel a little warm inside when he does.

  Does Lorn care about me?

  We have sexual chemistry. That much is apparent by now, but these past few days he has been the picture of a doting caretaker. He’s seen to my every need, protected me, made me comfortable. We’ve had good conversation, and I’ve found myself surprised by how knowledgeable he is.

  Lorn truly is one of a kind.

  His cabin comes into view, and my heart blossoms with relief. We say nothing as we beeline for the door, and I can tell Lorn is as excited to get inside as I am. When we step in, he closes and bolts the door behind us. I shake snow from my boots, slip them off, and shed my jacket.

  “Well, that was an adventure,” I say.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Lorn’s voice is forlorn, and I glance up at him in surprise.

  “It’s not your fault the power went out,” I say.

  He shrugs. “I know, but you should feel safe here. You shouldn’t have to be tethered to me out of fear.”

  Is that a trace of insecurity in his voice? When I look at him, there’s no sign of it. He is powerful and fierce and strong. He towers above me, his eyes hard and angry.

  Why is he so angry?

  I step closer to him and place my fingertips on his forearm. The muscles beneath tense at first, then relax as he stares into my eyes.

  “None of this is
your fault. You are the reason I’m doing OK, that I feel any kind of security at all. Without you, I don’t know what I would have done, in so many ways.”

  His eyes bore into mine as my words sink in, and they dart down to my mouth, as they have a way of doing. My skin tingles with excitement when he lowers his face to mine and kisses me. His arms wrap around my waist as he pulls me in closer and holds me tight against his taut body. His lips explore mine, his tongue reaches in, and mine meets it with gusto. My legs tremble as I revel in his strength, absorb it into myself for safe-keeping.

  Lorn is nothing if not strength, personified.

  He shifts me in his arms and cups a breast with his hand. My nipple hardens instantly at his touch, and he strokes it through the fabric of my shirt.

  He pulls away so that his face is an inch from mine. “You feel like flying in the face of your fear?”

  What kind of question is that?

  My eyes meet his, and I still don’t find my answer. “What do you mean?”

  He grins down at me. “Let’s take this party outside. There’s somewhere I’ve wanted to have you for quite some time.”

  The thought of going back out into the cold sends a shiver down my spine, but Lorn is issuing me a challenge. Am I going to lock myself away and cower, or am I going to take a risk and live my damn life?

  Challenge accepted.

  “Lead the way,” I whisper.

  His grin broadens, and he steps back, leaving a terrible emptiness between us. He dashes back into his room and comes out a moment later with a bag that appears to be holding several large towels.

  “Come on.” He reaches out for my hand, and I lace my fingers with his, feeling giddy. He leads me to the back door and presses it open against a foot of snow.