River's Redemption: Blackwater, Book 5

by Anne Rainey

  “Jeanette.”

  Her name thickly garbled was all that emerged from his lips. Jeanette kept her eyes trained on his while he placed one large hand at the back of her head and pulled her farther onto him. She could feel his bulbous tip at the back of her throat, and she moaned in pleasure. Loving him this way had been a recurring fantasy. Having the power to bring him to climax with just a lick of her tongue had always been a wish of hers.

  She brought up her hand and cupped his sac, squeezing gently. River’s eyes shut tight, and he threw his head back on a curse. Jeanette allowed her hands and mouth to play for another minute, but she was too eager for him to be inside her to let the pleasurable torture go on for long.

  She slid her mouth backward, letting her lips give a loving kiss to his tip before breaking free completely. “There can be more of that later. For now I want you inside me. I feel as if I’ve waited my entire adult life for the pleasure.”

  River lowered himself to the soft ground and wrapped his hands around Jeanette, spanning her waistline with his big, strong hands. He lifted her over him, then sat her down on his lap. “Are you on the pill?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve always used a condom, and I have a clean bill of health,” he explained. “But I don’t want to use one with you. At least not this first time.”

  The thought of making love to him without any barriers was a temptation she couldn’t ignore. “I’ve recently had a checkup, so I’m good with that idea.”

  “Thank God,” he whispered as he took hold of his cock. “Put us out of our misery, sunshine.”

  Jeanette lifted up and placed his cock at her entrance, then slowly slid down the heavy length. Instantly, her body felt stretched, and there was a twinge of pain. “God, River, you’re big.”

  He stiffened. “Too much?”

  He moved to lift her off, but she swatted his hand away. “No, just…I need time to adjust.”

  “I don’t want you hurting,” he told her, concern furrowing his brows.

  She wiggled her hips, and his cock slid all the way in, filling her. “Oh, River,” she moaned. “Yes.”

  “Fuck, Jeanette, you’re so goddamn tight.”

  “I’m not very experienced.”

  “I get that,” he said, his voice strained. “I’m not going to last, sunshine.”

  They fit together as if God had fashioned them that way, one for the other. Did River see that they were made for each other?

  Riding on a sea of emotions, Jeanette let herself go. Placing her hands on his chest for support, she began moving her hips in little circles, drawing out their pleasure, aware of each stroke of skin against skin, each time her body clutched around him. River’s hands found their way over her as if he needed to commit every inch of her body to memory. When he found the tiny nub of her desire, it was Jeanette’s turn to moan. As her need mounted, Jeanette’s movements became wilder, driving him farther into her until there was no separating them. The ability to reason fled. Suddenly, she was coming apart, breaking into a thousand glorious shards.

  And River was there, thrusting upward and clutching her hips, pumping faster, harder. Her gaze flew to his, and she saw his meaning. He wanted more from her. As if bringing her to climax wasn’t enough, he needed to imprint himself on her.

  Wrapping his arms around her bottom, River anchored them together and turned them over until she was sprawled out beneath him. In all his untamed beauty, River hovered over as he slid his cock in and out of her tight pussy with slow and gentle thrusts. Jeanette lifted her head and licked his chest, loving the feel of the sprinkling of dark hair against her mouth. She closed her eyes and let instinct take over. His scent drifted around her. She inhaled and let the sensation of having him buried deep inside wrap around her.

  “Jesus, Jeanette.”

  Trusting in him completely, Jeanette let him make love to her. She wrapped her legs around him and squeezed her upper thighs. River cursed and thrust harder, faster. There was no coaxing, no uncomfortable moments of shyness now. Only two people meant for each other moving in unison, as vibrations continued to gather into a ball of electrifying bliss inside her body. She knew this man, maybe better than anyone, and her heart recognized his.

  Without warning, Jeanette was thrown headfirst into the most intense orgasm of her life. She’d thought nothing could top what they’d already shared. And maybe she was deluding herself, but Jeanette had a feeling River wasn’t just sating a physical need but also quenching the thirst of a soul that had longed for its mate. Fanciful, yes, but who cared? It was her moment, and she would damn well make it good.

  This was what she’d been missing. This was what she’d wanted with him. Not just his friendship and not just a friends-with-benefits thing either. She wanted River, every last inch of him. And she wanted him for the long haul.

  River stared down at Jeanette and felt the ice around his heart melting. He’d been alone for so long, the dream to find that one person, that one individual who would accept him, want him, even need him seemed impossible. This feeling of complete rightness had him worried. Nothing ever came to a Jennings without a price attached.

  Yet he did dare, because Jeanette was worth it. He would gladly lose his heart for just the thread of a chance to be with her for this one night. That was River’s last thought before he thrust deep. He built the pleasure, binding them together until he didn’t think they would ever be separated again. With each stroke, his cock swelled harder.

  River leaned over her, covering her body with his, and pushed forward one more time. He came, filling her with hot liquid and shouting her name into the darkness surrounding them.

  He sweated and gasped like he’d run a marathon, their bodies sticking together, when he felt Jeanette squeeze those delicious female muscles one last time. She shot into the endless starlight with him.

  River came back down to earth and slipped free of her. He sprawled out beside her on the soft clover, then cupped her delicate pussy. Jeanette murmured his name and seemed perfectly happy to stay right where they were forever. Her smooth cheek rested against his chest, illuminated by the moonlight. River was no poet, but he knew that if Lord Byron was looking down on Jeanette in that moment, he would undoubtedly be scribbling out stanza after stanza of how breathtaking she looked when she let her heart soar free.

  But beyond the beauty of the moment, he could feel her fast breathing. Her fatigue. He kissed the top of her head and allowed them both to revel in the moment. Reality would intrude soon enough. It always did.

  Chapter Eight

  After he’d gotten them back to his apartment, they’d both fallen into bed, exhausted and in need of sleep. Unfortunately, the nightmare came right on time and even managed to pick right back up where it’d left off. God forbid he should ever sleep in peace. Or even dream about something nice for a change. Like Jeanette. No, that sort of freedom wasn’t for him. His nights were filled with abuse and anger. Blood and tears. It would always be that way. No matter how many years he put between himself and that awful time.

  In the nightmare, River walked back out into the hall as quietly as he had come in and went into Larry’s bedroom. It was dark and smelled of Larry, like stale cigarettes and beer, but this time River was beyond noticing. He was beyond caring about the unkempt bed and the soiled clothes strewn all over the floor. He walked with one thought—retribution. And Larry Briggs was way past due.

  He came to the side of the bed and picked up Larry’s beloved billy club. He clutched it in both hands and knew a kind of rage that he’d never felt before. Every horror Larry Briggs had visited on him and his foster brother was tied to this one piece of wood. The thing that Larry was so fond of using on them when he was in a particularly ripe mood would be the very thing that sent him to hell once and for all.

  River walked with new purpose back to where his foster brother lay sprawled on the floor of their bedroom. With all the power of a ten-year-old who had spent his life fighting to stay alive, River swung
the club and slammed it into the back of Larry Briggs’s head. It knocked him to the side and off Joey. River took a breath before swinging again.

  Larry was dazed but still alive. As he turned over, preparing for a fight, Larry stopped short when he saw his own foster son wielding the billy club. His billy club. Anger registered in Larry’s eyes, but before he could get his bearings, River swung and hit him again. This time Larry’s eyes rolled back in his head, and River knew his world had just gone momentarily black.

  River heard him moaning. He wanted to take a moment to revel in Larry’s pain, but as he saw him blink and attempt to open his eyes, he knew it was now or never. As blood dripped out of Larry’s eyes, River hit him again and said, “Go to hell.”

  Larry fell limp.

  The minutes ticked by. River shook with rage and hate. He held tight to the club as if it were a lifeline. And when he looked down at Larry, blood pouring out of a crack in his skull, the crack River had put there, a sense of peace stole through him. Was Larry dead once and for all? River didn’t know. All he knew for certain was that he wouldn’t be tormenting him and Joey, not anymore.

  He dropped the club to the floor. It landed with a decisive thud, like a gavel on a judge’s bench. Larry Briggs had been tried and sentenced for his crimes. A movement caught River’s eye, and he glanced over at Joey. He was curled up into a tight ball, rocking and sucking his thumb.

  Jeanette woke to what sounded like the mumbling cries of someone in pain. She turned her head to find River in a dead sleep, his entire body covered in sweat and a look of pure anguish on his face. The nightmares his mom had warned her about? River clutched the bedsheets in a tight fist. Oh God, it was worse than she’d realized. Jeanette’s heart bled for him. Was this what it was like for him every night? It was as if he were trapped in time, forced to relive the horror of his childhood. Jeanette didn’t know the full extent of the abuse, but she couldn’t understand a God who would allow any sort of cruelty to children.

  She reached out and touched his arm. “River,” she said, keeping her voice soft and gentle. “Wake up, darling.”

  River stiffened, and his gaze shot wide. “Jeanette?”

  “Yeah.” She smoothed a palm over his damp cheek, wishing she could take away the demons that tormented him.

  He covered her hand with his and brought it to his mouth for a kiss. It didn’t escape Jeanette’s notice that his fingers shook. “Did I wake you?” he asked as if more concerned with her than the painful memories he’d just relived.

  “You were having a nightmare,” she said, hoping he’d open up to her, just once let her in. “Want to talk about it?”

  “Not particularly,” he muttered, his hand squeezing hers a little tighter.

  Her hopes plummeted. What had she expected? At six-foot-four, every inch of it covered in lean muscle, River exuded strength. He’d never let weakness show, never rely on anyone but himself. Jeanette knew that.

  But there was a tender side to him too. Sometime in the middle of the night, Jeanette had come awake to River leisurely washing her with a warm washcloth. It’d been the most intimate thing she’d ever experienced. He’d taken great pleasure in stroking the soft cotton over every inch of her body. Of course, the touches had stirred her passion, and they’d made love all over again. It was a night to remember. A night she wanted to keep close to her heart forever.

  River sat up abruptly and said, “I’m going to take a quick shower. Go back to sleep, sunshine.”

  Jeanette nodded and watched him walk away, his bronze body gloriously nude. Her mouth watered at the delicious sight. But she knew he needed a moment alone to get himself under control. She should let him close her out, but if she were to ever breach the iron wall around River, she couldn’t shy away when things got tricky. She flung the covers back and headed for the bathroom he’d entered. When she reached it, slowly opening the door, she saw him scrubbing his hands. Judging by the steam filling the room, the water must have been scalding. She reached out and clutched his forearm. “River, stop.”

  “I can’t get it off,” he ground out, scrubbing harder. “It’s always there.”

  Her stomach dropped as she watched the anguish on his reflected face in the mirror. His hands were getting redder. If he kept it up, they’d bleed. “River!” she screamed, hoping to jar him out of his waking nightmare. She turned off the faucet. “Stop it. You’re hurting yourself.”

  He froze. His gaze shot to hers in the mirror. “There’s always blood. So much of it, and I can’t wash it off. I try, and it never goes away. It’s there when I wake up, and I can’t get rid of it.” He closed his eyes tight and turned around. “Do you see now?” He glared at her. “I’m a fucking train wreck, Jeanette. I’m never going to be normal.” He held up his hands, palms out. The skin was raw, as if he’d dragged sandpaper over them. “Do you see?”

  She didn’t speak, simply wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. Seconds passed before he locked her in a powerful embrace.

  “I don’t know the details of what you went through,” she said, “before Mr. and Mrs. Jennings adopted you, but I know it wasn’t easy.”

  He buried his face in her neck, neither of them moving. Jeanette stroked his back, soothing him the only way she could. When he released her and stepped back, Jeanette was very much afraid he’d ask her to leave.

  Please don’t shut me out.

  “Shower with me,” he murmured.

  Relief nearly overpowered her. “Thought you’d never ask.”

  She caught the hint of a smile creasing the corners of his mouth before he turned toward the tub and adjusted the spray. He slid the glass door aside and stepped in, then held out a hand for her. As River stood under the massaging jets, Jeanette picked up a washcloth and began washing him. She took it slow, aware of River’s agitated state.

  “What are you doing, sunshine?”

  “Taking care of you,” she answered easily. “Now, hush and let me get on with it.”

  By the time she finished, River was calm, his eyes no longer wide with fear. He turned her until her back rested against his chest and wrapped his wet arms around her body. “I’m sorry you had to see me that way,” He murmured.

  Jeanette leaned back and stared up at him. “When will you get it through your head that I don’t scare that easily? Remember the time you wore that giant Frankenstein suit and tried to scare me on Halloween?”

  He chuckled, caressing the silken skin of her torso. “I do remember that. It was your senior year, and you were pretty full of yourself in those days.” His fingers came into contact with her nipple, teasing her to a fever pitch. “Someone had to take you down a notch.”

  She snorted. “You were the cocky one, not me. And your attempts to frighten me failed miserably.”

  River stroked his large hands over her hips, clear to her stomach. He massaged her lower belly and whispered against her ear, “If you knew half the things I want to do to you, you’d be very afraid, trust me.”

  His fingers began to find their way south. He slipped his long, thick index between her folds, teasing her by sinking only to the first knuckle.

  “Your skin has such a pretty glow, and your breasts are so full and ripe.” His finger moved in small circles, and she arched against him. “You’re sexy as hell. It’s been nearly impossible resisting you.”

  “I never wanted you to resist me.”

  He moved his finger all the way out and flicked her clit. “I know.”

  “I need you. Stop teasing me.”

  River took her clit between his fingers and pumped it. Her body sizzled with little shock waves that only he seemed able to create. His other hand came up, cupped her right breast and squeezed. She’d always been extra sensitive there, and River zeroed in on the fact immediately. The man was intoxicating.

  When his finger dipped between her slippery pussy lips again, Jeanette pushed forward, telling him without words what she wanted. He complied by sliding two fingers in. This time he sank them
deep and began pumping her hard, his thumb swiping back and forth over her clit, his other hand torturously pinching her nipple. He dipped his head down and licked the side of her neck and shoulder; then he bit down. Hard. Jeanette jolted, and her pulse throbbed as if eager to be tasted. River was everywhere at once. Jeanette couldn’t hold back.

  Her orgasm began a slow climb. Water drizzled over them as River slipped three slick fingers in and out. Jeanette lost it. A mass of heat welled to the surface as River finger-fucked her, his words pushing her over the edge.

  “Let go, sunshine. I’ve got you.”

  She reached behind her buttocks until she found his heavy cock. She squeezed him tight.

  “Fuck, yeah.”

  Her body took over, and suddenly she exploded. Her orgasm went on and on as River wrung every bit of pleasure from her he could.

  The cat must have gotten her tongue, because she suddenly couldn’t speak. She turned and tilted her head upward for his kiss. His mouth was a gentle touch against hers and it made Jeanette’s heart flutter. He nibbled at her lower lip, eating at her, taking little bites.

  Reason flew out the window, and need rushed in. All at once, she was on fire. Her insides melted to liquid lava. River grabbed a thick, blue towel off a hook and made quick work of drying them both. After he tossed it aside, Jeanette wrapped her arms around his neck, and in one fluid movement, he picked her up and moved with decisive strides to the bedroom. She wondered if he ached to be inside of her as much as she needed to have him filling her up. Did River feel this beautiful yearning to join?

  Jeanette squirmed until River set her back on her feet. He took one step and gripped her arms, pulling her to him. Her nipples flattened against his chest, and someone moaned.