Devil In Cowboy Boots

by Sylvie Kaye

  Should she continue?

  His eyes shouted yes. His mouth said, “Yes,” in a barely audible hissing sound. But his stance said he'd take whatever she gave him—or not.

  If denied, he might shrivel but never complain.

  She pulled with light sucking motions, and he arched his hips and groaned louder. Releasing him, she teased the tip of her tongue up and down his shaft. When she felt him quiver, she took him into her mouth again with even stronger suction this time.

  She moved fast on him, then slow, then fast again, experimenting. He tensed, flinched, moaned. Her command over his reactions spurred her on. She caressed his sac and made love to his thick shaft. After all, his dick was going to take her where she'd never gone before. She wanted to show her appreciation beforehand, in case she wasn't able afterward.

  Never having experienced an orgasm, she wasn't sure how bone-melting, mind-blowing, nerve-rending it would be.

  When he tangled her hair in his fingers and guided her rhythm to one he favored, a slow but steady drawing up and easing off, she obliged him.

  Until he pulled away. “Babe, we'd better back off and take it easy, or I might blow your head off.” He grinned. “I've never held back this long before."

  He stepped away and kicked off his jeans, but not before taking three condoms from his pocket and tossing them onto the nightstand. She smiled. Obviously, he was a man hell-bent on keeping his word. He began pulling his shirt over his head, and she stood and helped him out of it for the sake of speed. She didn't want the provocative heat radiating throughout her body to cool before she reached her goal.

  Although the fire inside her felt as if it would take a lot of pumping to put out.

  When he tossed the shirt, he stood before her naked and rock hard, looking sexy as hell and ready for action.

  Her breath halted, and she shimmied out of her lacy bra and panties. When he cupped her breasts, one in each hand, lifting them, grazing her nipples against his, she moaned, relishing the friction but needing more. She wanted him to manipulate her peaked buds between his fingers and take the aching tips into his mouth.

  "Touch my nipples,” he murmured, saying the very words she desired to say.

  She leaned away so that she could pleasure him, but he pulled her close again and repeated, “Touch me, Mercy. Make me hot."

  She placed her thumb and index finger alongside his nipple, which was sealed with hers. While she rolled his hardened tip between her fingers, she squeezed her own sensitive nipple at the same time.

  Closing her eyes, she let her head fall back as she plucked and excited them both. The softness of her skin against the roughness of his felt gratifying. She tweaked harder and faster. Heated sensations coursed through her body, pooling in her womb. The thrill felt erotic, different from anything she'd ever imagined. Like masturbating with a partner.

  Her head spun, and yet she couldn't stop herself from rolling and pinching their joined nipples, driving herself closer and closer to the unknown.

  Suddenly, she couldn't wait any longer.

  "Come to bed,” she murmured. She skimmed her palms over his muscled biceps and down his strong arms to grasp his hands. Tugging him toward her, she reclined onto the mattress.

  The slide of his naked body against hers felt more exhilarating than public sex on the park bench had been. The aphrodisiac of discovery wasn't what had driven her on the night along the river. It was pure Sinner.

  He kissed her neck and nibbled her earlobe. She gyrated her hips, her pussy wet and lusting for penetration. She was about to find out if he had performance anxiety.

  She crossed her fingers and tried to cross her toes. The feel of his hot, hard penis against her cleft must've sent fevered, crazy notions to her brain because she almost crossed her legs.

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  Chapter Eight

  Giving an old Doriaism a new twist, Mercy figured, first come, first serve.

  As Sinner possessed her mouth in a breath-stealing kiss, she boldly ran her hands over his strong back and tight butt. His muscles clenched and unclenched beneath her touch, her fingers grazing his buns, going lower with each stroke until she teased his genitals.

  With a sharp intake of breath, he bucked his hips. His erection felt hard and eager between her thighs. The man's body was made for love. Lust, she amended, confident she was going to finally enjoy unbridled sex—with an orgasmic climax.

  When he plunged his tongue into her mouth, she returned its primitive love dance. As if the passionate kisses weren't enough to drive her ever closer to the edge, he nibbled her ear, her neck, traced his tongue along her collarbone and suckled the pulse throbbing at the base of her neck.

  Sensations assaulted her at an alarming pace. Her body blazed and then shivered. Heat and chills alternately raced to her erogenous zones.

  She'd lost any control she had over the situation long ago. All she could do now was hold on for what looked like the ride of her life.

  Grasping his neck, clutching at the longish hair at his nape, she kissed him anywhere she could. She nipped his earlobe, bussed his forehead, and nicked his nose, her kisses landing at random on whatever body part she could reach. His lips were illusive, remaining out of range.

  His kisses landed where he willed. His mouth caressed the puckered tips of her breasts. Quick, hot licks of his wet tongue excited her as he moved from one to the other, leaving the abandoned, swollen nipple to shiver and ache for his attention.

  "I—I think I'm ready,” she murmured when she'd had enough of Sinner's teasing.

  But he didn't seem to hear her. He trapped her wrists in his hands and had his way with her body. He suckled her breasts, pulling harder, giving her even more exquisite pleasure. As her body arched against his greedy mouth, she moaned, demanding some kind of relief.

  He let go of her hands and moved lower, swirling his tongue around her belly button, dipping in and out, simulating fuck motions that had her gripping the satin sheets.

  The man had a talented tongue. She wondered if his penis had equal talent.

  "I'm ready now,” she repeated in a raspy but louder tone.

  He smiled up at her.

  "You're going to be so easy,” he growled, snatching a condom from the nightstand to encase his swollen dick.

  "Oh, but it's never been—"

  The word easy got caught in her throat as he slid between her open thighs and entered her, slowly edging in and then withdrawing. The heat of his smooth tip delved and inched into her again, followed by coolness, emptiness as he withdrew.

  He played with her that way for several long tortuous strokes before he plunged his cock deeply and thoroughly inside of her.

  She lifted her hips to meet him and felt totally filled.

  Closing her eyes, she let the sensation of his possession carry her away. To the edge, where she clung for the longest time, meeting the push of his solid body, his hard length stretching her wide as he drove them both forward to ... where?

  Mercy wasn't certain, but she doubted she'd need her legs for the journey. Sinner seemed more than capable of taking her there all on his own. She wrapped her ankles tightly around his waist, pumping her hips in time with his and matching him thrust for thrust.

  Restlessly, she traced her hands over his muscled shoulders, trailing down the slope of his back before grasping his firm butt and kneading. His breathing grew labored, and he gasped.

  She flinched, wanting to scream no. That familiar male sound warned her he was going to jump off the precipice with or without her.

  But unlike other men, Sinner didn't. Instead, he clenched his jaw, squeezed his eyes shut, and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her closer to him. His breath rushed hot on her face before he devoured her mouth with a kiss so fierce he sucked the doubt right out of her. Her muscles went lax as she yielded to his body and let him take charge, trusting he'd take her over the top with him.

  And he did.

  "Sinner,” she shouted as her pussy clu
tched his cock and hot, spiraling spasms washed over her.

  He plunged deeper and faster. Locking her ankles, she rode the delicious friction. His pubic bone met her clit with driving force. His harsh breathing matched her own. Her fingers clawed at his back as her body began to tremble. His skin was damp and hot. He murmured, “Come on, baby."

  She tensed and closed her eyes. Her whole body pulsed, and with a low, whining sound, she moaned his name and shattered. Her vaginal contractions continued to milk him even as her arms and legs went limp, unable to hold onto him any longer.

  He relaxed his tight hold, and his cock twitched in a powerful contraction as he came. He'd obviously used a lot of willpower to hold back while he waited for her.

  "That was remarkable,” she whispered against his ear. “You were remarkable."

  His forehead rested against hers. “Yeah, it was good."

  She stretched her arms over her head, a dreamy glow flooding her. “No, it was more than good.” She smiled to show her admiration.

  He grinned back. A twinkle lit his dark eyes. “No more compliments or it will go to my head.” He chuckled. “Both of them. And I'll be ready again before you are."

  "That soon?” Her eyes rounded. “But it will never be as incredible,” she purred, satiated.

  "Tell me what part was so incredible, and I'll be sure to duplicate it.” His knuckles stroked lazily across her jaw.

  "What was incredible was that I came."

  She sighed. Her first orgasm. She was in love. Oh, not with Sinner. With the thrill, the euphoria, the total release of tension throughout her body.

  "Don't you usually come?” Sinner caressed her neck, not sure he'd heard correctly.

  "You're my first.” Mercy smiled at him as if he were her hero.

  "I didn't do anything out of the ordinary."

  "Oh, but you did—"

  He kissed her hard with a lot of tongue, hoping to erase some of the truth of her words from her lips.

  She had been an extraordinary first for him, too. He'd encountered more than lust. From the minute she wrapped her velvety body around him, he'd lost himself in her skin, her scent, her softness. Her spontaneous inexperience.

  He felt alive for the first time in almost two years, and to tell the truth, it was a high he didn't want to do without again. But he couldn't indulge himself with anything more than brief encounters. He couldn't waste time. Suppose Parker skipped out, or worse, the old coot died before Spence cleared his name.

  He looked down into her satiated eyes. Mercy wasn't interested in him as anything other than a vacation fuck. She'd go back East, and he'd be nothing but the stud who had made her come.

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  Chapter Nine

  After disposing of the condom, Sinner returned. Settling himself next to Mercy's shapely form on the bed, he basked in her playful smile and the willing glint in her eyes.

  Her body was all she was offering, and his body was all he had to give. He refused to think any deeper thoughts. “Ready for the second coming?” he whispered near her ear.

  "To put a Doriaism to bad use...” She trickled her hand through the hair on his chest and down over his stomach to tease the tip of his dick with the soft pad of her finger. “Anything worth doing is worth overdoing."

  Shivers rippled up his spine and testosterone shot through his veins. He stilled her hand with his. “Is Doria like Confucius?"

  "Mmm,” she sighed as he slid her hand between her thighs and slipped her finger along with his own into her wet, slick pussy.

  "You are so ready,” he said. “Want to try the top this time?” Her blue eyes blinked away his suggestion so he tempted her further. “You seemed to know your way around my lap the other night at the Riverwalk."

  "Will I come that way?” She arched her back as he stroked her slippery clit with their fingers. “I'd hate to mess with such a winning system."

  "Then mess with me.” He released her finger and rolled onto his back next to her. “It'll be my pleasure."

  "I hate to sound greedy, but will it be mine?” Leaning over him, she rested her forearm on his breastbone.

  "Why don't you find out?” he tempted, letting warm wisps of his breath fall against her lips before he grasped her hair in both fists and pulled her into a rough kiss.

  He wanted her on top. The position was more sexual, less intimate. No arms wrapped around him in a loving embrace, no lingering kisses. Only vital body parts doing what came natural, working out their primal needs. No breath-exchanging climaxes while her mouth gasped beneath his.

  On top, she'd be no different than any other woman who'd ridden him to orgasm. He'd remain distant from the longing she stirred in him.

  He Frenched her, forcing himself to feel nothing but his baser sexual urges. She squirmed, her eagerness at the prospect of her second orgasm apparent. How unbelievable that she'd only come for the first time moments ago. What in the hell kind of men had she been going out with?

  Assholes.

  He shook off the anger and humiliation he felt for her at the idiot hands of the jerks. She wasn't his woman or his business.

  Her urgent hands flattened his shoulders against the sleek satin sheets. “Riding you to climax has been another recent fantasy of mine. One I never imagined might come true. Until now."

  She slipped her creamy thighs over his lap. Her pussy felt deliciously wet and hot against his dick. For all of a second.

  Instead of getting right to the core of things, as most women did, she stretched her supple, trim body over his. Her smooth legs rested on his prickly haired ones, and she snuggled her curvaceous torso tight against his chest and stomach. Sliding her hands seductively along the length of his arms, she settled her gentle palms against his callused ones.

  With her face next to his, her soft cheek caressed his. Strands of her hair tickled his shoulders. Her citrusy perfume mixed with the musky scent of sex.

  Engulfed by her fragrance, her skin, her gentleness, he indulged himself. But if he let this go on too long, his heart would ache.

  He breathed in deeply one last time, nudged his hips, and grunted, “This might work better if you sat up and straddled me."

  When she lifted her head, her bed-tousled hair brushed his face like a caress. She smiled down on him, her lips pink and swollen from his kisses. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and glazed. Her golden lashes fluttered.

  "You're my fantasy man come to life. I was savoring every inch of you. I'm sure lots of women have shown their appreciation for your body."

  Appreciation. Yeah, right. Who did she think he'd been doing, Mary Poppins?

  For a brief flash, he wanted to be more to her than just a hard body. He shook off the crazy idea by crushing her mouth with his, rougher than he'd kissed some of the unnamed women he'd satisfied himself with. When they insisted on kissing.

  Mercy sat up after that. Shook her blonde hair to get it out of her eyes.

  And into his mind.

  The sight of her mussed hair, naughty body, and welcoming blue eyes branded itself onto his brain. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to blot out the image.

  He concentrated with his libido. Her pussy lips felt hot and wet against his shaft, her ass, velvety and round on his thighs. And then he didn't feel anything—

  What now? He flipped his eyes open just as her cool, slender fingers began fitting the rubber onto him. His cock jerked with pleasure at the unexpected touch of her fingers.

  Why in the hell did her attempts at sexual savvy turn him into a quivering dick?

  To fight back any fuzzy feelings, he propped his hands behind his head. “No lip service this time?"

  "Putting the condom on with my mouth would lose its suggestive impact if done too often.” Her tone sounded matter-of-fact, like she'd read it somewhere.

  He nodded at her reasoning, but watched, mesmerized by her sex-manual methods in action. When her upturned lips at last decreed she was pleased with her technique, she slid over his lap and gyrate
d her hips above his cock. Her lush breasts jiggled, enticing him to forget about coming for now, and instead taste her fragrant flesh.

  He fought off the urge to lave her nipples until they hardened and she moaned his name. But she didn't know his real name. He'd like to hear her murmur Spence as she came apart at his touch, but he denied himself that intimacy.

  The impulse vanished when she grasped his cock in her satiny grip and inserted him into her hot, tight pussy. Even he forgot his real name.

  Spence's breath went ragged when her inner muscles gloved him like a fist and she moved her hips up and down and around.

  "You move like a professional,” he mumbled thoughtlessly, then gritted his teeth, bracing for the slap that was sure to follow.

  Instead, she smiled proudly while she rotated her hips, grinding in a counterclockwise direction now. “Thank you.” Flipping her hair off her damp neck, she explained, “Belly dancing classes."

  He should grab her and kiss her for her forethought, but he didn't want to break her rhythm. Giving into the movements of her sultry body and the sway of her breasts, he cupped and teased the tender flesh and taut nipples.

  A moan escaped her lips, and her vaginal muscles contracted with the sweetest, tightest hold he'd ever felt. As he kneaded her breasts, she clenched him tighter, her contractions milking his shaft. With each contraction, she moved more exotically and enticingly.

  Soon his cock was dancing a wild hula. He'd never felt anything sexier in his life—nor would he in his next life, he was sure.

  "Mercy,” he groaned, unsure if he was calling her name or invoking relief from her torturous pleasure.

  She crooked a questioning smile. “I gather foreplay's over."

  If that was foreplay, he couldn't wait to see what came next.

  She didn't make him wait to find out. She gripped his shoulders and began riding him like the bucking bronco Mark had broken to win his last championship belt buckle.

  But Spence didn't want to think about Mark now. He was here to wipe the sad memory of his friend from his mind, for however short a time.