The Cajun's Captive (Stormy Weather, Book One)

by Selena Blake

  She whimpered when he pulled back. He tipped his forehead against hers and stared into her eyes again.

  “You know I'll never let you go now.”

  “Where would I go?”

  “I don't know. Where did you go before?”

  “It doesn't matter,” she whispered and kissed his lips. His hands tightened around her waist and she pressed closer, tangling her fingers in his hair.

  Dear God, he was her husband now. It was amazing. Was it three days ago, she'd been in New York? It felt like a lifetime. She took a moment to take it all in. He’d said the words she’d always longed to hear. And she knew he spoke the truth.

  Sebastian wasn’t one to spout his feelings. Perhaps that had been their problem all along. Hormones. Lack of communication. And a possessive streak as wide as the Mississippi.

  “Am I dreaming?” she asked, lazily trailing her fingernails along his scalp.

  “If you are, I hope you never wake up.”

  His hand traced the length of her spine leaving a delicious chill in its wake. His eyes burned bright in the soft glow. Outside the storm raged, the wind howled. Amanda had never been this far south during a hurricane. Would this place withstand the wind? The water?

  “It's sturdy, mon amour.”

  Sometimes, she really did wonder if he could read her mind. He gave her a reassuring smile that had her stomach doing cartwheels.

  It seemed surreal—the candles, the storm, their shotgun wedding—she could barely believe she was standing in the same room with Sebastian. But she wasn't dreaming. His kiss had been far too good to be a dream. She smiled at him as she pressed her hips against his erection.

  He groaned and scooped her up into his arms.

  Chapter Six

  They'd barely made it to the bedroom before Sebastian had slipped the robe from her shoulders. It pooled around her waist, giving him easy access to her full breasts. He trailed his hands over her collarbone before cupping the sweet flesh in his hands. As he caressed each curve, he memorized every delicious detail. Every catch of her breath. Every skip of her pulse beneath his fingertips.

  Her hands tugged at his shirt. He barely noticed. He knew nothing but the hard little peaks between his fingers. He squeezed gently and Manda moaned into the darkness.

  “Like that, do you, cher?”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  He dipped his head and laved one of the dusky pink nipples with his tongue. God, she smelled heavenly. Aroused...warm...feminine. His cock twitched behind the seam of his jeans.

  “I want to touch you,” she whispered into the darkness.

  Quickly, he tugged his shirt over his head and went back to loving her nipples. She shimmied and squirmed as he rolled them between his thumb and finger. When he tugged, she actually screamed. The sound echoed off the walls only to be drowned out by the intense rain outside.

  Her nails raked over his back and she tried to rub against him. He held her at bay. If she touched him much more, he'd come in his pants.

  “Hurry,” she pleaded.

  “Hurry, petite? Why should I hurry?”

  “I want to touch you. I've dreamed—”

  He leaned forward and traced her earlobe with his tongue. A shiver racked her body and her skin tightened beneath his hands.

  “What have you dreamed?” he whispered.

  She hid her face against his neck, her arms wrapped tightly around him.

  She felt so good in his arms. So right. Just the right size. With a flick of his wrist, the robe fell away and she was completely naked. Gloriously, beautifully naked. And wet. He could smell her desire.

  “Tell me,” he said softly and slid a hand between her legs. Her hair was short there, soft. He couldn't wait to see her in the daylight when he could drink in every detail.

  “I've dreamed of you. That's all.”

  “What did we do in these dreams?”

  Instead of answering, she ran her hands over the hard muscles of his chest. He let his head fall back as he relished her touch. Her small slender hands were cool and soft. He wanted to suck on every finger…see exactly what turned her on. What made her fall apart.

  Her hands slid lower, down his abs and straight to the ridge in his jeans. She cupped his cock as if testing the size. He could hear her breath coming in shallow pants now. Cupping her cheeks, he dove into her mouth, his tongue dancing between her lips.

  She gasped at the invasion. Slowly her hand squeezed his cock, bringing him closer to the edge.

  “Amanda,” he rumbled. She didn’t heed his warning; instead, continued to tempt and test him.

  “What?” she asked innocently, even as she pressed herself against him. Damn she felt good. Soft, sexy… perfect. Her nipples rubbed against his skin and his cock leapt against her hand.

  “You need to keep your hands to yourself.” He didn't know how much longer he could last. He liked to pride himself on his endurance. But Manda was special. He'd been waiting for her for a very long time.

  He’d dreamed of how their first time would be off and on for years. Even before it had been decent to do so. But this is not how he’d imagined it. He’d had more control. It wouldn’t do to come in his pants like a horny teenager.

  “That’s not fair. I’ve been wanting to touch you since the first time I saw you without your shirt on years ago.” Her admission was quiet, husky, but it had an affect on him nevertheless.

  “You still haven't told me what I want to know.” He scooped her up and deposited her on the bed. “Don't move,” he said.

  He practically ran to the living room to get the ropes he'd tied her with earlier. There was no way he was going to give in and fuck her fast and hard. He wanted things nice and slow. But that would never happen if she kept touching him.

  He wanted to devour every inch of her.

  Kiss the undersides of her breasts.

  Lick her pussy dry.

  Nibble his way down her thighs all the way to her toes.

  “What are you doing?” she called.

  “T'in ya up,chérie.”

  “Why?” She sounded slightly panicked.

  He returned and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. When she saw the rope in his hands, her eyes squinted and he could tell she was more angry than panicked.

  “You are not tying me up again Sebastian.”

  “You can't touch me, not yet. I'm too on edge—”

  “I want you on edge,” she said, her voice almost a purr.

  “Dammit, Amanda. You make me crazy. I’ve never been this hard before, and I don’t want to hurt you. You’re small and sweet and delicate and I’m tough and—”

  “But I want you all hard and tough.” She teased his nipples with her fingertips and he stifled a groan. She didn’t understand what she was messing with. His baser instincts were barely in check.

  “You say that but—” he trailed off, half afraid of something he couldn’t even put a name to.

  “What?”

  “I don’t want to scare you.”

  As quickly as he blinked, she hurled herself at him. They fell back against the bed and she stared down at him, an odd look of pleasure and irritation on her face.

  “Trust me, you’re not going to scare me.”

  He cupped her cheeks, unable to help himself. He kissed her hard, telling her everything that words couldn’t say. She was right there with him, touching and tasting.

  “You have no idea just how badly I want you. All the things I want to do with you. To you,” he said against her throat. “But I’m barely in control and there’s an animal inside me who won’t be gentle with you, cherié.”

  His words halted her and after a moment, she rolled away.

  “Do I get to tie you up later?” she asked, her humor shining through.

  “I’ll think about it,” he said and reached for the rope. She didn’t protest as tied her wrists above her head. Somehow, he managed to ignore the lithe body, ripe with desire that beckoned to him. “Now, tell me about these dreams of yo
urs. I want to hear every detail.” He moved down the bed trailing his fingers over her leg, loving the way chill bumps broke out in his wake.

  “Sebastian!”

  “I told you, cher, no touching.”

  “I can't touch you with my legs.”

  He was sure that if there'd been more light, the look he gave her would have made her blush. He wrapped a piece of the rope around one ankle and then cinched it to the post on the footboard.

  “Don't be shy, chérie. I've had dreams about you as well. Dreams where you ride my cock for hours.”

  His words must have excited her. She sighed low and long, and he could feel her pulse jump beneath his fingers as he tied her other ankle.

  “I've probably dreamed about you every night for a decade. Even when I shouldn't have. About what your skin would feel like against mine.”

  “I dreamt that too,” she said.

  He crawled up the length of her body, letting the hair on his chest tickle her. “How does it feel?” Slowly he nibbled his way down her jaw to her ear. She sighed and arched against him. God, she smelled good.

  “Wonderful. Wonderful. Please Sebastian...”

  “What is it, amour?”

  “Touch me...”

  “Where?” He laughed at her exasperated sigh.

  He caressed her cheek with the back of her fingers. “Here?”

  She shook her head.

  “Here?” He cupped her breast and tugged on the nipple. She squirmed against him, her pelvis rubbing against his cock. He rolled to the side, at a safer distance.

  “No!”

  He moved his hand up to her collarbone. “How about--”

  “No! Down there. For heaven's sakes. Don't make me beg! Touch me!” Her pleas made him laugh, as did her modesty. She'd quickly outgrow that. Werewolves weren't known for their modesty. They had no problem with colorful language or nudity.

  “Ahh... you want me to play with that pretty pussy. Is that it?”

  She nodded enthusiastically.

  “Say it,” he whispered against her ear.

  “Wh...what?” she stammered.

  “I want to hear you say it.”

  “Oh, for heaven--”

  He slid his palm down her tummy and let it rest right above the nest of curls between her legs. He could feel her straining to move underneath his hand.

  “I'm not touching you until you say it.”

  “Touch my pussy, Sebastian.” Her words were even, almost clinical, but it was her tone that told him how desperate she was. It was the rise and fall of her chest, the ragged breath against his cheek.

  His fingers slid through her wet curls and between her delicate folds. She was so wet. So warm and just waiting for him. “Good girl. Now that wasn't hard was it?”

  He circled her clit with the tip of his finger. Slow lazy circles that had her hips lifting off the bed.

  “A little anxious are we?”

  “Sebastian!”

  “Sorry love.” He settled himself between her thighs and kissed every inch he could reach. The sweet scent of her swirled around him; filled him until he felt as if he were drowning in it. He sank a finger into her, coating it with her juices.

  “Now, tell me about those dreams so I can make you come.”

  “We're in the woods. You're always chasing me,” she offered so quickly it made him laugh.

  “Do I catch you?”

  He kissed and nipped his way up her thigh. Her legs spread wider and he lapped up her cream, loving the taste. Memorizing her musky scent. He turned his finger left and right and slowly curled it forward. Her hips shot off the bed and she cried out.

  “Found it… Tell me more.”

  Her body tightened up, every tendon and muscle. He could see her pulling on the ropes, but he'd tied them carefully. They wouldn't come undone without his help.

  “You catch me. You rip my clothes off and toss me to the ground.”

  He sucked on her clit just enough to make her gasp. Then he stopped and waited for her to continue.

  “You thrust your fingers inside me, but I'm already wet. I'm always wet for you.”

  He groaned low in his throat. “I like the sound of that. How many fingers?”

  “Two, sometimes three.”

  “Think you can take three fingers, petite?”

  “I hope so.”

  He chuckled and asked her why. Before she could answer, he added a digit turning them inside her slippery channel.

  “Because you have a huge cock, that's why. Sebastian, please.”

  “What? What do you want?”

  God, he sounded just like he had in her dreams. Amanda was about to come apart and he only had two fingers in her. The roar of the storm was nothing compared to the quake building deep inside her.

  “Tell me, chérie. So I can make you come.” He went back to work scissoring his fingers and lapping at her pussy. Every so often, he hit her clit just right and she felt a spark of pleasure. She dug her heels into the bed as best she could so she could drive herself against his fingers, his incredible mouth.

  Just when she thought he might let her come, he pulled out his fingers and licked at her juices with his velvety tongue.

  “Oh, God. Yes!”

  He sampled her, nibbled on the tender flesh. She cried out when he slowly speared her with his tongue. Her cries turned to screams as he thrust faster and faster into her. Deeper. She had to have more.

  Something bigger.

  She was starting to feel dizzy. Starting to wonder if the orgasm would ever hit her. It was so close. So wonderfully close.

  A bolt of lightning lit the room giving her a view of the handsome man between her thighs. She tossed her head back and pulled on the ropes again. This wasn't fair. She wanted to touch him. To feel him. She'd fantasized so many times about learning every inch of his body and now he was so close.

  Then he stopped.

  She whimpered. “Sebastian!”

  “Relax, love.” No sooner had the words left his lips than three thick fingers filled her. “Now, you were telling me about your dream. About my fingers pumping in and out of you. Like this?”

  “Yeah.” She could barely find her voice when he was touching her like that.

  “What next?”

  “Please, Sebastian.”

  “Please what?”

  “Untie me,” she whined. “Enough is enough.”

  “I told you, no touching—”

  Exasperated, she stared down at him, barely able to make out his face in the darkness. “I don't want to touch you. I want you to fuck me. Now.”

  He froze. For five whole heartbeats, he didn't move a single muscle and she started to wonder if she'd shocked him. Then in a lightning fast move, he was circling the bed, snapping the ropes.

  “Ready for this, petite?” he asked, his voice dark and low.

  “Yes!” Her cry was punctuated by a loud crack of thunder. It was as if the heavens had been waiting for this very moment just as she had.

  He crawled across the big bed and settled himself between her thighs. She ran her hands up over his arms, memorizing with her touch what her eyes couldn’t see. He repositioned his hips and the broad tip of cock nestled against her opening.

  He thrust himself home in one fluid motion. She screamed out in pleasure and pain. Neither of them moved for endless seconds. He kept his arms bracketed around her and she ran her hands down his sides, silently urging him to make love to her. Finally, slowly he pulled back. For a moment, she felt empty but then he was inside her again, filling her. She angled her hips and he sank deeper. With each thrust, they found a rhythm. Him driving forward and her lifting her hips to meet him. He nuzzled her neck, his chest grazing her breasts with each movement. She recognized the tender caress for what it was, a man barely holding onto his control. He pumped his cock into her faster and faster. She wrapped her legs around him, her moans growing louder.