To Love a Wilde

by Kimberly Kaye Terry

  She grabbed his head, not to push him away but to force him even closer. She heard his ragged masculine laughter as he gave her what she wanted, God, what she’d needed for so long, wringing from her everything she had.

  Her walls tightened, her womb contracting as she felt the beginnings of her release.

  As she came, her body starting to shake out of control, from a distance she heard the sound of paper ripping, and moments later, as the orgasm slammed into her, felt the broad head of his shaft at her entry.

  Her eyes slammed open as his cock began to push past her vaginal lips and slowly he fed her inches of the broad tip.

  “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” she chanted as she accepted him. He was so thick, so hard, it soon became uncomfortable, and a panic set in and she fought against him, panting out, “No, Holt … you’re too big, I can’t—”

  His mouth slammed over hers, pushing past her lips, his tongue swept inside her mouth, overcoming her objections as he slowly pushed more of himself deep inside her body. She felt her body rebel, tighten up, her inner muscles clamping down on his shaft, forcing him to stop his invasion.

  He pulled his mouth away from hers, and she felt his hands on either side of her face, his thumbs caressing.

  “Open for me, Yasmine. Please,” he said. Yasmine heard the ragged plea as though from a distance and opened her eyes. “I’ll never hurt you. I promise you, baby. Please …”

  Their breaths were both coming out in gasps, and Yasmine ran panicked eyes over his face, so close to hers.

  She could barely see his eyes in the shadows, yet the sincerity in the deep blue depths reached out to her.

  “Relax, baby … just relax.” He panted the words, the fine ends of his nostrils flaring as he tried to calm her. As her eyes trained on the small tic in the corner of his mouth, she felt the trembling coming from his big body so close to hers.

  Still on fire from his invasion, she struggled to accept him, her body taut, arched like a bow and quivering.

  “You trust me, don’t you, Yas?” he asked. Yasmine glanced up at him, her eyes scanning over him, seeing the hair that had fallen forward to lie on his damp forehead.

  She slowly nodded her head, and saw the relief in his eyes.

  “Good, baby. I’ll go slow … I’ll make it good for you. I promise,” he said. With that he leaned down and captured one of her breasts, tugging her nipple into his mouth and suckling. His other hand reached between their wet bodies, found the nub of her core and slowly rotated the bud until Yasmine whimpered, her body arching into his caresses.

  Slowly he continued to feed her more of his shaft in slow, sweet increments until he had filled her, so deep she felt him tap the back of her womb. Once he’d hit the back of her, he paused, lifting his body away from her, his arms bracketing her on both sides.

  “Do you want me, Yas?” he asked, sweat falling from his chest to splatter like rain on dry ground to land on her breasts. She swallowed and nodded. She saw him close his eyes briefly before opening them. The look blazing in their depths made her heart contract and her legs clench, bringing him even deeper inside her body.

  He laughed roughly, planting a kiss on the corner of her mouth before moving away. “If you keep doing that, this won’t last long, baby.” The clarity of his statement was easy to figure out. She felt a blush stain her cheeks even as her body, as though with a will of its own, sought his, grinding against his hips, her hips slowly rotating against his.

  When he groaned again, this time deeper in his throat, the sound akin to an animal, a part of Yasmine, that part deep inside that was universal to all women, surged in triumph; that she had reduced a man like Holt to this state was a heady feeling.

  “So tight. God, you feel so good on me, Yas,” he rasped.

  His mouth came down on hers as he slid in that one last inch, driving home.

  Yasmine’s body arched sharply away from the soft hay, her muffled cries absorbed by his mouth as his thrusts became more forceful.

  As her breasts pressed into his chest he tore his mouth from hers and latched on to one, tugging her nipple inside his mouth, pressing it against the roof of his mouth, sending the cream to ease down her leg, easing his entry into her portal.

  “Holt!” she screamed, no longer caring who could hear her as the pleasure began to spiral deep within her body.

  He placed his hands back beneath her knees, lifting her body away from the ground, and drove into her, his hips like pistons, driving deeper and deeper inside her, subtly arranging her body along his for their mutual pleasure.

  She felt it the minute the orgasm began. As he continued to pound into her, the power of his thrusts sending her body into overdrive, she reached up and grasped him around the neck, pulling him down on top of her, so their bodies moved of one accord. He smoothly caught her rhythm, twisting their bodies until they lay on their sides, facing one another.

  Hiking one of her legs up, he placed it over his hip, digging into her at a new angle, his thrusts now tight, controlled, her legs forced closer together, her clitoris in direct contact with the end of his shaft as the tip was tapping against her spot.

  It was too much.

  Her body went nuclear.

  “Yes … yes … yesssss,” she screamed, frantically grabbing at him as the orgasm began to unfurl. His hands gripped the undersides of her ass, digging into the flesh as he continued his sensual assault, grinding into her, his powerful thrusts overwhelming her.

  When the orgasm hit, she screamed, grinding against him, trying to get as close as possible to his body. As though from a distance she heard his roar, as he, too, gave in to the climax. His grip on her hips became nearly painful as he issued one, two, three more thrusts before he went over the edge into mindless bliss.

  Chapter 13

  Holt had suspected from the moment he’d kissed Yasmine that sex between them would be amazing.

  But never in his wildest imagination did he think he would have had the type of mind-blowing sex he’d had with her.

  He ran a hand through his hair.

  After their first coupling, they’d allowed their breathing to calm, their hearts to return to normal. But the minute he’d felt her soft, round bottom nudge against his shaft as she lay in front of him, his cock had hardened, stiffening on cue.

  He’d reached for his jeans, withdrawing the foil package, and ripped it open with his teeth. After donning the protection, he’d placed a kiss on the side of her neck. She’d stirred and moaned softly when he’d captured a nipple in his mouth and suckled on the hardening nub. He’d eased his body down until his face was level with her mound. Taking a cursory swipe against her slickening lips, her essence trickled over his mouth.

  He couldn’t get enough of her. Her smell, her taste … everything about her was like a drug to him. A habit he had no intention of kicking anytime soon.

  When he felt her soft hands reach down and cover the back of his head, urging him closer to her nectar, he’d lost it. After one more taste of her honey, he’d drawn away, moving back up her body until he lay between her opened thighs.

  He captured her mouth, transferring her own flavor to her, licking and biting at the lushness of her mouth.

  “How about you take over the ride this time?” he asked, whispering the words low, against the corner of her mouth.

  “Wha—what do you mean?” Her voice was husky and low; it brushed over his senses, making his shaft even harder. He gritted his teeth.

  Smoothly Holt repositioned them so that she straddled him. Taking her hands within his, he levered her up so that she sat astride him. Slowly he pressed the tip of his shaft inside her quivering opening, going far enough in that her eyes widened, her mouth forming a perfect O.

  “Ohhh.” She sighed the word on a long breath.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, worried, remembering how difficult it had been the first time for her to accept all of him. “It’s good?”

  He saw her throat work as she swallowed. Her eyes fluttere
d closed, her mouth and small breaths escaped her partially opened mouth. She swiped her tongue out, wetting her lush lower rim, and nodded her head. “Yes … yes, it’s good,” she whispered.

  That was all he needed to hear. Although careful, he made short work of feeding her the rest of his shaft, going deep until he felt the tip of his cock brush against her womb. He bit back a groan when she squirmed on top of him, adjusting herself for a better fit.

  “Baby …” He bit out the warning and her eyes flashed open. She glanced over his face, taking in his pinched features and a smile, very small, lifted the corners of her mouth.

  “Is it good for you?” she asked, and although her voice was hesitant, unsure, there was a wicked gleam in her eyes as he answered her in action, lifting her bottom slowly … so painfully slow, up and away from his shaft, and just as slowly eased her back down until she was seated fully on him.

  “Minx,” he growled, and grasped her by the hips to better anchor her on him.

  Biting her bottom lip, she looked down at him and slowly began to undulate, her hips moving in perfect harmony with his. When he raised his hips, lifting them both from the floor, she arched back, catching his rhythm easily. The wet, tight feel of her warmth surrounding him had him groaning loudly, like a boy getting his first piece. She moved so well, undulating her hips, clenching her thighs, forcing his shaft into tighter alignment with her body.

  His hands on her hips gripped her tightly as she caught his thrusts and gave them back to him. He watched as she grew bolder, the way she watched him as they moved as one. He reached up, pinched one of her nipples, watching in fascination as it grew longer. He slipped a hand between their tightly joined bodies and found her clit, and as he massaged the hard nub of her nipple, he rolled and lightly pinched her clit until she moaned harshly in the quiet barn.

  It was incredible, the way she moved, the way she made him feel.

  She continued to undulate her hips, moving her back, her hips, working his body like a pro. He continued to plow inside her sweetness, feeling his balls tingle, the sensation telling him he was close to orgasm.

  Not yet.

  With a feral growl, he raised his body, grasped her by the back of her head and slammed his mouth over hers, twisting their bodies until she lay beneath him. She laughed lightly, and he pulled her bottom lip into his mouth, biting the lushness, not enough to hurt but enough that she felt the sting.

  “Oooh!” she whimpered, and it was his turn to utter a low, masculine laugh.

  “I’ll take over now,” he said, and pulled her lip into his mouth, laving the inner rim, soothing the small hurt.

  “Oh, yeah?” she asked huskily.

  “Yeah.”

  “Mmm …” she murmured on a long sigh of pleasure when he lifted her legs and placed them around his waist.

  Grinding inside her welcoming warmth, he alternated his thrusts between short and shallow, and long and deep.

  “Yasmine. So hot. So sweet,” he growled again when she met his deep thrust. “So tight.”

  Her breathing became shallow, her cries of passion louder as he continued to thrust.

  Holt chose that moment to press his hand against her pelvic bone, as his fingers continued toying with her clitoris, and he felt the moment she broke.

  Her body became stiff, her nails scoring into his back so deeply he knew he’d bear the marks from her passion in the morning. When she screamed her release, he lifted her bottom completely off the ground and stroked deep and hard inside her. Her head fell back, her neck straining as she accepted his thrusts, his fingers at work on her clit, unrelenting, until he’d wrung out every sensation from her. Until she lay back weak and boneless on the floor.

  One more thrust and he went over the edge along with her, roaring out his release.

  Completely satiated, he slumped down on her, spent. It was long moments before he could muster enough strength to move away, placing her in front of his body, her soft bottom nestled against his groin.

  He grabbed a blanket and covered them, and minutes later allowed sleep to claim him.

  As she lay in front of him now, the soft globes of her buttocks cushioned against his groin, he absently feathered his hand down her arm, lost in thought.

  Watching her in the kitchen earlier that day, the way she gave herself wholeheartedly to her passion of cooking, had also given him an inkling that when she gave her all, it was nothing short of spectacular.

  When he’d first kissed her, her soft lips and shy smile had told him she was a woman who, if she were in the hands of the right man, would be a dangerous woman indeed.

  When she’d yelled at him in the middle of the corral, in front of his men, her eyes blazing, her hands on her hips as she told him exactly what she thought of him, he knew she was a woman with hidden fire.

  But never would he have imagined that making love to her could be like this.

  He closed his eyes, clenching his jaw, remembering the way she felt on him. How tight she was.

  So tight, it was as though she’d never …

  Damn. The way her eyes had widened, the fearful look in her eye, the panicky way she’d beat against his chest, demanding him to get off of her …

  She was a virgin.

  Scratch that. She had been a virgin.

  He bit out an expletive.

  When she sighed softly, he glanced down at her.

  No sooner had they orgasmed than she slumped down, her head falling down on his chest. Feeling uncertain how she felt after their lovemaking—a first for him—he’d said her name, only to hear her soft sighs.

  She’d fallen asleep.

  He’d spent the next minutes watching her as they slept. Running a hand through his hair, he’d repositioned her so that she lay again in front of him and covered their bodies with the blanket he’d found before, unsure what to do next.

  Although the stables were heated, he didn’t want to stay any longer, the thought of someone accidentally coming across them one he knew would embarrass Yasmine.

  As far as he was concerned, he didn’t care who came across them. He had no regrets about what they did last night.

  He moved, wincing slightly.

  What they’d done all night long, he thought, remembering in hot detail their lovemaking throughout the night.

  He glanced back down at her.

  During their lovemaking, her hair had come out of the neat ponytail she’d placed it in, and now lay in wild curls around her face. Her lashes, so long they seemed unreal, fanned against her cheeks, one hand tucked beneath her cheek as she laid her head on his chest.

  He debated allowing her to rest longer. She looked so beautiful, so at peace, lying there.

  He brought her body closer to his, spooning against her as he brought the blanket over her breasts.

  It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

  Yes, he knew that he was going to have her. From the moment he saw her again at the airport, he knew he would have to taste her, to sample her, to see if she was as good as she looked.

  He’d been caught completely unaware by the power of their lovemaking, the way his mind, body and spirit had been teleported to another place.

  He laughed, humorlessly. If his brothers could hear him mentally waxing poetic, they’d laugh their asses off. Shilah was the poetic, sensitive one. Nathan was the brooding one.

  And him?

  Holt shook his head, running the tips of his fingers along the soft skin on her arm. He was the one who kept it all in perspective; the one who could shake off anything with a laugh; the one who always had a comeback for any situation.

  The one who never let things get under his skin, who could walk away from any person, any situation, without a backward glance. Onward and upward … and on to the next one, had always been his motto, from as early as he could remember.

  Except when it came to his brothers and their ranch.

  His early life with his mother and an absentee father, and their constant moving from place to pla
ce, had made it easy for Holt to never put down any roots, to take life as it came. When Celia, his mother, had told him that final time she had found a gig in California and that when she got settled she’d send for him, he’d only nodded his head and turned away, settling his ragged backpack on the bed he’d been given at the group home where she’d dumped him, and hadn’t bothered to turn her way when she said goodbye. When she’d awkwardly tried to hug him, he’d returned her embrace just as stiffly, just anxious for her to go.

  From that moment on, he’d stopped thinking about the what-ifs and everything that came with them, and learned to deal with the moment in front of him. To make the most of what life brought his way.

  He didn’t need a degree in psychology to tell him he had “unresolved issues,” as most of the talk-show psychologists liked to call it. Whatever the cause or reason, as he matured he’d always found it better to enjoy what life gave him for the moment and give no thought for what the next day would bring. Life was a lot easier that way.

  “What’s that Bible passage Miss Lilly is always quoting about taking no thought for tomorrow, let it take care of itself?” He posed the question to the dark in a low voice, unconsciously running a hand over the silky skin of Yasmine’s exposed arm.

  Seemed like a pretty good way to look at things, he thought.

  When he heard one of the horses’ soft neigh in a nearby stall, he glanced up, and through the small window at the top of the stall saw the early sunrise begin to peek through the lattice blinds.

  Soon, the ranch would be up and stirring. He glanced back down at Yasmine, her head still cushioned on his chest. Bending close, he moved aside her damp bangs and placed a kiss on her forehead.

  As he watched her sleep, her soft curls fanning his naked chest, he hated the thought of waking her. To wake her meant answering questions. Questions he wasn’t sure he was ready to answer. He hadn’t figured it all out in his own mind yet. He didn’t know what her expectations were after what they’d shared. Hell, he didn’t even know his own.