Bound Hearts 01-12

by Lora Leigh

  It was good. So good. The heat of the sun bearing down on her, the heat of Mac's mouth consuming her. She was lost in the sensations. In the pleasure. Lost in the overriding carnal intensity that began to build inside her.

  It didn't make sense. It wasn't as though Mac had never gone down on her before. But the difference was in how he did it. The situation, the location, the hunger he was unleashing on her. Within minutes she could feel the electricity pouring up her spine, the pleasure building in her womb.

  His tongue flickered through the wet slit, licked and stroked, moving ever closer to the engorged button of her clit as he hummed his pleasure into the sensitive folds.

  She was rising, rushing toward orgasm, and she couldn't fight it. When his tongue licked around her clit she screamed for release. Begged for it. Then his lips covered the tender bud, and his tongue began to flicker, to lick with rapid, destructive strokes until she shattered into fragments of blinding ecstasy.

  It was like lash after lash of agonizing pleasure as she strained closer, the ache in her womb only building. The clitoral release was usually enough to sate the desperate need, but this time, it only spurred it. She was dying for more.

  "It's not enough," she cried out desperately as he began to rise before her. "Please, Mac. I need more."

  "There's always more, Kei," he growled. "How much more do you want, sweetheart?"

  "Everything." Her head tossed against the tractor as her hands tightened on the handholds she had found. "Now. Please. Now."

  His hands covered hers, drawing them away as he stared back at her remorselessly.

  "I can give you everything you need, sweetness. All of it." One big hand covered the back of her head, pressing her lips to his chest. "Take me now, Kei. Show me how bad you need me."

  She needed him. Needed him until she could barely breathe for the hunger tearing her apart. Needed him so badly that before she anticipated what she meant to do, her teeth sank into the heavy muscle just below a flat, hard nipple.

  Mac jerked in surprise at the feel of Keiley's bite. It was unexpected. It was violently arousing. His cock jerked beneath his jeans, so hard, so engorged that he knew that holding back once her hot little mouth got down there would be next to impossible.

  But he would hold back. Control. Controlling himself, controlling this first step he was allowing her into the darkness of his lusts, was too important. One wrong move and she could shy away, unconsciously sensing the predatory hunger lurking just beneath the surface. The hunger that would push and push for more of the sensual, deeply held carnality that he knew his wife possessed.

  "Sweet," he groaned, palming her head as her tongue licked over the little mark he was certain she had made. A mark he would carry with pride. "More, sweetness. Give me just a little more."

  The bite was harder, centered lower, as a shudder wracked her small frame and her wicked tongue licked at his sweat-dampened chest.

  Her hands moved restlessly down his chest to his belt, struggling to loosen it as he tipped his head back and let the sun warm his face.

  Keiley was burning his flesh, moving lower, nipping at his skin, licking at it as she loosened his jeans and drew the heavy length of his cock free.

  He thought he would explode when she wrapped the fingers of both hands around the engorged shaft. Thought he would spill himself to her fingers in a release that would tear his soul free.

  His control was tattered, fraying. Gritting his teeth, he forced back the need to come, his fingers tightening in Keiley's short hair to hold her lips back from the throbbing crest of his cock.

  "Mac," she whimpered hungrily.

  Damn, he loved her voice like that. Husky and needy, stroking over his senses like dark velvet.

  Holding her back, Mac moved her hands to his thighs before gripping the base of his cock with one hand.

  "Like this." He needed it like this. Needed to control it, to stroke her hunger for him higher. Just a little bit higher.

  Her hands clenched in the jeans material still covering his thighs as his fingers held her head steady for the hard head of his cock pressing against her lips.

  She opened instantly, her hot pink tongue swiping over it as her lashes fluttered closed. It was sexy as hell.

  "Open your eyes. Watch me while you take my cock, Kei. Don't hide from me." His voice was rough. He knew it was and could do nothing to stop it.

  Her lashes drifted open. Her tongue flickered over the tiny slit in his cock, licking at the pre-cum that beaded there as she hummed her pleasure.

  "Good girl." He could see the wariness, the hunger rising inside her. "Now, slow and easy."

  He pressed inside her heated mouth, feeling her lips enclose him as electric pleasure shot up his spine and sizzled in his brain.

  Damn, it was good. So hot. So good. Her mouth suckling at the engorged head of his dick, trying to draw him deeper as her hot little tongue licked and stroked around it.

  He drew back, ignoring her little mewls of need before pressing back, pressing deeper, feeling the muscles of his stomach contract violently as pleasure seared through taut sinew and bone. Hell. He wouldn't last long at this rate. Sinking inside her mouth so slow and easy, feeling her take him nearly to her throat, sucking at him, humming little cries vibrating on the flesh.

  Her hands pushed his jeans lower with jerky movements, allowing her fingers to slip between his thighs to that tight sac beneath his cock.

  "Stop." He pulled back, forcing her to release his cock. "Put your hands on my thighs, Keiley."

  Surprise glittered in her hazel eyes.

  "Hold on to my thighs, sweetheart."

  Her hands returned slowly to his thighs, but her gaze flickered with indecision.

  "Sometimes it's best to let sleeping animals lie," he whispered, almost regretting what he knew she was seeing in his face for the first time. "Can you take it, Kei?"

  It was a challenge. Challenging was never a good idea, because more often than not she would take the dare and run with it.

  Her expression flickered before a smile tugged at her lips.

  "Do your worst," she dared him in return.

  Sweet heaven, she had no idea what she was daring him to do. Did she think the dare would end here? In this barnyard?

  He pressed against silken lips once again, feeling them enclosed around his flesh as he watched. Drawing back, thrusting in, his erection glistening from the moisture in her mouth. He could feel his muscles tightening from the effort to hold back. Felt the sweat running down his back as he fucked her mouth, slid in and out, feeling her tongue tighten on him, feeling her grow wilder as she realized he had no intention of giving her his release in this way.

  He wanted her wild. He wanted her flying. So desperate she was tearing at him.

  Refusing to obey the simple command to keep her hands on thighs.

  And within minutes she was there. The sweet sounds of her suckling mouth were driving him crazy as he felt her trembling fingers snake between his thighs.

  He pulled back again, sliding free of her mouth before she followed. His hands tightened in her hair, pulling her back as the other hand caught her wrists and held them tight above her head.

  Then he gave her more. Thrusting past her lips until he knew that one more stroke into the liquid heat there would shatter his control.

  "Enough." His voice was a hard growl, despite his efforts to temper it.

  Pulling her to her feet, he caught her as she stumbled, wrapped his arm around her hips, and lifted her to him.

  Her legs wrapped around his waist instantly, and his cock found the shelter it was dying for. If he thought her mouth had been hot, then her pussy was pure lava. He couldn't stop the harsh cry that fell from his lips as the crest of his erection tucked into the honey-slick folds and pressed forward.

  Damn, she was tight. Tight and sweet, the tender tissue inside her sex flexed and rippled around him as he began to work his flesh inside her. Stretc
hing to accommodate him, growing hotter, wetter with each stroke until he was seated fully inside.

  His balls drew up tight at the feel of her pussy rippling over his cock. The need to thrust heavily inside her was making him crazy. But this, this was so good.

  "You're tight, Keiley." He tightened his hold on her as he turned until he could press her against the side of the tractor, holding her firm as his cock jerked inside her. "Tighter than ever."

  Her head fell back as her eyes drifted open. Her eyes were wild. Nearly as wild as the desperate attempts to move against him as he held her still.

  "Mac, please—" Her voice was raw and thick with excited arousal now.

  He rarely held her release back. He had sensed the wildness in her from the beginning, the deep-seated core of a sensualist that would one day meet his darkest desires head-on.

  This was what he had waited on for more than three years. The hunger he saw in her eyes now, felt in her pussy. The needs rising to the surface, challenged by his restraint, his refusal to satisfy them enough to keep them banked. This was the woman he had known she could be.

  He moved, drawing back before sinking inside the fist-tight channel once more, glorying in her cry of pleasure and the flex of her pussy.

  "This what you want, sweetness?" He moved again, harder, pressing deeper as her head thrashed and perspiration ran down her face.

  Oh yes, this was what she wanted. She was panting, throttled cries falling from her lips as she fought against his hold.

  "Look at where you are, Kei," he told her then. "Out in the open. Anyone can see.

  Should we stop now?"

  She shook her head, her hips flexing as her thighs tightened on him.

  "Do you know what they would see?" He growled, leaning down to nip at her lips.

  "They would see perfection. The sweetest honey in the world coating my balls."

  He could feel it, like a wash of creamy, liquid silk tightening his balls further.

  "Mac." Erotic hesitation filled her voice even as her juices became thicker, silkier. As though the thought of being watched filled her with both trepidation and excitement.

  He flexed inside her again, stroking the back of her pussy, feeling her clench around him as her nails bit into his shoulders, digging in with sensual pain as he felt his control slip.

  He gripped the cheeks of her ass, holding her tight as he began to move, shafting inside her with hard, deep motions of his hips. The pleasure was so intense it was nearly pain.

  The grip of the sweetest muscles in the world tightened as he felt her pussy began to convulse. Her cries filled his ears, his senses, and tore free his own release.

  Pumping inside her, each spurt of semen was followed by a hard punch of ecstasy.

  Driving. Fulfilling. For the first time since he had begun sleeping with her, Mac felt that hard, dark knot of lust in his gut easing marginally as he filled her with his release.

  She was like a forbidden fruit. Tempting. Sweet. Innocent. Uncorrupted. So sweetly uncorrupted that her innocence shone in her eyes like a beacon of purity. It was one of the things he loved about her. One of the things that the dark sensuality inside him blazed in response to.

  In that moment, as he held her tight to him, hearing her wild cries ease, Mac knew that corrupting her was rising higher, much higher, on his list of priorities.

  Before it was over with, he would lose his wife. Or he would gain his soulmate. The question was, could he survive losing both?

  Chapter 3

  The next night, Mac stood on the balcony outside his and Keiley's bedroom, smoking. He stared at the glow of the cigarette in his hand, a frown marking his brow before he drew the filter to his lips and inhaled.

  The restlessness growing inside him wasn't abating, and he knew why. It was the same thing that had drawn him to the balcony rather than into sleep, despite the lateness of the hour.

  Keiley.

  He stared into the night sky as he inhaled, drawing the acrid burn of the smoke into his lungs even as he lashed at himself for resorting to a crutch. Not that it did more than ease the restlessness in his hands anymore. It did nothing to ease the hunger that rose in his gut and had his dick so damned hard he could probably hammer nails with it.

  And dumbass that he was, rather than relieving that hunger in the giving heat of his wife's sexy body, he was out here smoking. Because he knew he couldn't take her without putting the wariness back in her eyes that he had put there the other day.

  A hard grimace had him grinding his teeth as he thought of the way Keiley had watched him that evening. With equal parts confusion and wary arousal. As though she were no longer certain how to approach him, or how to deal with his sexuality.

  Not that he could blame her. Hell, he had taken her in the barnyard against a greasy tractor. When he finished with her she had been flushed and streaked with oil, and nervous.

  That nervous uncertainty would be the death of him.

  Maybe he should just lay it on the line. Tell her what he wanted and take his chances.

  He vetoed that idea instantly. Keiley was a brave woman, but if he gave her a chance to think about it first, then he was a goner. His wife would deliberate actions for months before making decisions. She weighed angles the way a criminal attorney weighed evidence. Looking for every loophole, for every possible crack in the defense of her privacy.

  Privacy was golden to her. A product of the hell her parents had put her through as a teenager. The social humiliation had been decimating to her when her father's crimes had been revealed. She had been ostracized, criticized, and left to bear the burden of her mother's suicide and creditors who had no mercy on an eighteen-year-old girl with no means of paying the astronomical debts her parents had accumulated.

  And he was asking her to risk that private part of herself with another man. Because he craved it. Because the sexual intensity and excessive hungers that drove him demanded it.

  She had learned how to handle gossip, how to handle desire. Could she now learn how to handle loving two men?

  Like Keiley, Mac was a product of his parents' actions and reactions. Unlike Keiley, he hadn't faced a public crucifixion for them; rather, the results of those actions had left him darker, harder than most young men.

  And like Keiley's father, Mac's father had begun his journey into hell. His strict fervor and railing against sex had driven Mac to acts that had only increased his father's wrath.

  That had driven the man to drive his son to the edge of madness.

  Joseph McCoy had been a nutcase. Mac swore his father had caused his mother to lose the will to live with his idiotic railing. Screaming at her whenever he imagined another man looked her

  way. Denigrating her supposed dark lusts, and accusing her of sexual crimes that had so humiliated the timid little Debra McCoy that she had finally given up.

  But Mac hadn't given up.

  His father had first suspected him of having sex at the tender age of fourteen. And he was. With a much older girl who had begun teaching him the ways of pleasing a woman without stepping over the line into hard-core sex.

  The beatings had begun then. Mac still carried the scars from that first beating. And the mental scars from the lectures that followed. Lectures that had only driven Mac to push more boundaries, to break more rules. By the time he had graduated from high school he had already learned the delicate act of giving a woman anal sex. His first year in college he had mastered it. Then came his first ménage.

  Sweet heaven, it had been good. He had watched his lover's face as he shared her with an older, much more experienced man. A mentor who had seen the darkness in Mac when he first met him. Had seen it and understood the danger inherent in it if he didn't learn how to direct it.

  Ian Sinclair hadn't been much older than Mac, but he had been much more experienced. A natural sensualist, a lover of all things female. He had taught Mac how to direct those hungers and how to still them. And Mac's lov
e for sharing his women had been born.

  It was forbidden fruit. It was the most sensual pleasure a man could give a woman. It was an affirmation that he would never, ever become anything resembling his father.

  And now, more than a decade after sharing his first lover, Mac had accepted his shortcomings. It wasn't something most women could accept. He had married Keiley knowing she might not be able to accept it. And yet here he was, a cigarette in one hand, his cell phone in the other, contemplating pushing her that much closer to another man's arms.

  He was going to risk the destruction of his marriage and his life because he had been too certain she couldn't handle the truth before he married her.

  It was addictive, he admitted. Like a drug, watching a woman lose herself in a sensation that could come only one way was almost impossible to resist. He loved his wife, loved her with all his being, loved her enough that he wanted her every sexual limit satisfied.

  Was it reason enough, he asked himself. Of course it wasn't. He knew that if he were to ask any man he knew in his hometown if he would share his wife, then the response could become violent. But he knew men whose eyes would gleam in pleasure and anticipation. And other men who understood the pleasure of sharing a lover and did so with regularity and with strict privacy.

  He knew one of those men was only a phone call away.

  He stubbed out his cigarette, nipped open the cell phone, and hit the speed dial.

  "Do you know how late it is?" Jethro answered instantly.

  "Three in the morning and you're still awake, dumbass," Mac laughed, careful to keep his voice low.

  "Yeah, well, it's been one of those weeks." Jethro sounded disgusted.

  "I thought you were on vacation. Started yesterday, didn't it?"

  "Vacation," his friend snorted. "That's a good word for suspension, I guess."

  "Hey, take the blow, take the vacation. At least it's paid this time." Jethro wasn't known for his self-control when it came to ripping a rapist off his victim, as he had done the month before.