I was so happy for things that made really good sense.
"Like this?" I asked. I shot him a quick glance before running an appreciative gaze from his shoulders to his toes. The dark fuzz running down his chest and the thatch between his legs were just like his beard—soft and coarse at the same time.
A smirk pulled at his lips and he tilted his head to the side as I stroked him. "Exactly like that."
Light cut in from the living room, illuminating his lightly tanned skin and the tattoos on both biceps. There was the single mountaintop with the dragon and the portion of the sword, both of which I'd spotted before, but now I saw the sword was part of a larger piece where it crossed with an axe and an arrow. I ran my hand over that one. "What is this?"
"We can talk about the Three Hunters another time," he said, his hands sliding to my hips. "Same with Smaug and the Lonely Mountain. You asked me to stop smushing you so that's what I'm doing now."
He steered me across the room, backing me up against the bed until my legs couldn't go any farther, then he picked me up like I was the smallest little thing in the universe and set me on the mattress. Like this, with the room dark and only touch to lead the way, I felt like I could do anything. I could have anything. And just maybe, I could be everything.
I heard a drawer open and Linden tossed a shiny strip of condoms to the bed. "You decide how many I'm going to need."
I picked up the foil packets as he climbed over me, his shaft dragging up my thigh, along my belly like a warning. "Probably all of them."
Kneeling between my legs, he said, "You can't tease me like that."
"Who said I'm teasing?" I asked, drawing my legs up to wind around his waist.
I tried to urge him closer to me, to get more of that friction I needed, but he only smoothed his hands up my thighs like he was trying to calm a skittish horse. I really did not care to be the skittish horse in this scenario. I wasn't skittish. I knew what I wanted and I wanted it now. I just had to ask for it.
"If you're not teasing, I hope you plan to spend the entire weekend in this bed." He shifted one hand from my leg to stroke his cock as he watched me for a slow, heavy minute. The rhythmic slap of skin was the only sound between us. "Don't test me, Jasper. I will keep you here for the next sixty hours if you let me."
"Get that condom on. I'll decide how I spend the weekend when it's full."
He turned his gaze to the ceiling with a guttural groan that sounded something like fuck me and then made quick work of the condom.
"Tell me again. Tell me you're ready," he rasped, his fingers circling the base of his cock as he dragged it through my folds.
It came to me then, the filthy gust of confidence I always felt when I needed it more than I needed my pride or dignity. "If you don't fuck me right now, I'll walk out of here and find someone who will."
That was all it took. He shoved his hips forward, the headboard snapped against the wall as he pushed into me with a single powerful thrust that stole my breath. He was so much bigger than I'd estimated, I could barely think of anything save for the heat and pressure coiling through me. One thrust after another, he was tearing me apart and I wanted to do the exact same thing to him. I wanted to undo him in every way, wanted him as mindless as he made me.
"I can hear you thinking, Peach," he said. "Do I have to bite those pretty nipples of yours too? Is that what it will take?"
"Probably," I replied with the kind of bratty tone that required him to make good on that threat.
Lucky for me he did, and I got to rake my fingers over his scalp and through his dark hair while I writhed and wiggled against the merciless treatment his teeth gave me.
"You are not real," he murmured to the valley between my breasts.
"Neither are you." The harsh rhythm of the headboard knocking into the wall matched the pulse in my core, and every time he drove into me, my eyelids drifted shut because I couldn't feel that much and keep my eyes open at the same time. I couldn't. "Your cock is splitting me in two."
"Is that a good thing?"
"So good." I flattened my hand over my mouth to keep from letting out a rude, lusty groan.
I could be extremely rude and lusty in these situations. Not always but there had been times of remarkably rude and lusty behavior. There were no limits when I chased that first orgasm. It was like I doubted I'd get there unless I put everything on the table. I'd say anything, any depraved thing. I'd beg them to fuck my ass, to come on my tits, to let me sit on their face. Once I got there, I calmed down, gained some confidence. Some relief. It was like my body remembered how to do this and I didn't have to put so much energy into it even though the second one was harder to reach.
But I never reached the second because I remembered myself. I wasn't desperate anymore so I could think. I could replay those words in my head and then welcome in the awkwardness, the mortification. The shame.
There was never a second. Not with another person. When I was alone, I could hit the second, the third, the fourth. Sometimes more if the toys were playing right and the inspiration was strong.
So, I kept that hand over my mouth. Kept those crazy words in. Kept the shame and embarrassment at bay.
"You feel fucking amazing," he ground out. "I swear to god, you're better than any cock ring in the world."
He pumped in and then all the way out, and with one deft flick of his wrist, I was flipped onto my belly. He tucked my ass up against his thighs, the hair on his legs lightly abrading my backside as I went on rolling my hips toward anything hard and hot. I heard his hand connecting with my ass before I felt it, nothing more than a loose slap, nothing like the type of punishment spanking that made my skin crawl.
It was exactly what I needed.
His rough touch did something to me that was very, very right.
I turned my head to the side and sucked in a breath as I watched him line up against my opening. I reached for the blanket beneath me, fisted my hands in the fabric. I needed something to hold on to. Something to shove into my mouth to muffle the overzealous things I was bound to say.
When he pushed inside me this time, I knew it was almost over. I couldn't stop the chorus of more, now, my god, Linden, yes, yes, yes. Even when I turned my face to the bed and closed my teeth around the blankets, I couldn't stop.
One hand on my hip and the other twisted around my hair, Linden fucked me without apology. Without sense. He shoved into me with that arrogant, possessive attitude of his, like he was fucking me for the same ancient reason anyone ever fucked—to claim and mark and keep. There was pleasure to be had, of course, but he moved in me like he was doing a job he was made for. Like he wouldn't stop until he'd fulfilled his obligations.
For once in my life, I really liked being the subject of obligation.
Since this position hit all the right spots for me, the wave of spasms through my body came in fast and had me panting out an unintelligible series of fuck yes now. There were shooting stars behind my eyes, and a glorious unraveling in my core, and despite Linden's relentless hold on my body, my knees went out from under me.
"Are you okay?" He didn't stop hammering into me. He went right on working every sated, tender ounce of me while I lay flat on the bed like a well-fucked pancake.
"I told you I was coming five different ways," I mumbled against the blanket. "Perhaps you heard that?"
With one arm, he scooped me up like a rag doll, settled my ass in his lap. "Nah, we're not done. We can do better than that one."
I glanced over my shoulder because surely I had misheard. "What?"
He smirked at me, asking, "Am I wrong to think you can get there more than once?"
Oh. Okay, then. "You're not wrong."
"Do you need a break or can you keep going?"
I met his eyes and the dark focus there. Oh my god. He wanted me rude and lusty. He wanted to work for the second, the third, all of them. My core gave a violent clench of delight. "I can keep going."
He entered me again and wrapped his
arms around my torso, his beard brushing the back of my shoulder as he dragged his teeth along my neck. This wolf of mine. "That's right," he rumbled. "Show me what you need, baby. Show me how to get you there."
I didn't know what to do right now. Even if he wanted the rude and lusty version of me, I didn't know if I could do that. But now here we were, a hand splayed low over my belly and his cock owning me with every long, dragging thrust, and a simple request hanging in the air between us.
"Is your cock always this fat?"
Even saying that had the stirrings of a fresh orgasm building in my center. It was like a gateway opened to all the things I needed and now that I'd stepped through it, I could have them.
"Just for you, Jasper," he panted as he held me tight to his chest.
I brought my hand to my mound, parting the folds to trace the spot where his shaft moved in me and then up, up to the place that wanted more attention. "Pinch my nipples again. You're good at that."
He brought one hand up to my breast, quickly snagging my nipple between his knuckles like he did that night when he had me up against the sink. It hurt in the most terrific way and I could barely hear my thoughts, let alone decide what to think. The only things that seemed right were working my clit harder and harder, screaming every time he let up a little on my nipple, and letting him pound me like this even though I knew I'd feel it everywhere tomorrow.
"You're getting close," he said, his lips on my neck.
"I don't need you explaining my vagina to me."
"Should I say that the next time you tell me my cock is fat?"
Heat started washing down my spine, circling my legs, unraveling in my center. "That was a compliment, not a status report."
His hold on my nipple turned aggressive, like he was trying to determine how far I'd let him go with this. Maybe I would've enforced a limit or stopped him if things were different but the warm, loose flutters inside me turned wild with that assertive touch of his. They went crazy as they expanded and spread out from my core into my limbs. I felt it in my face, my cheeks a little too hot and my lips tingling. It was overwhelming. It hurt in a desperate, needy way—that same old lustiness that made me say the filthiest things, it hurt like that. Like I'd die if I didn't catch hold of this sensation and send it somewhere because my body could not contain this, it simply could not.
I couldn't hear anything but my own rushing pulse and when I looked down to watch him abuse my nipple, I caught sight of his legs pumping between mine. I could see the stretch of muscles under the dark hair and the silvery lines of old scars. There was something about watching his body move as I felt the product of that effort while his hips slapped my ass, his cock dragged against every sensitive inch of me.
"You're not done yet," he said. "Don't check out on me now."
"I am not checking out," I said, my words barely more than a slur.
Linden closed his fingers around my wrist, pulling my hand away from my clit. "Hold on to me." He raised my arm, brought my hand to the back of his neck. "Let's see about taking care of you now."
I tried to protest. There was a lot of protest in me. I had things to say and I intended to say them. But also, when he covered my mound with two thick, blunt fingers and pinched the same way he was pinching my nipple, I lost track of those protests.
He continued pumping into me, a little more reckless now, a little more erratic. He let out a low growl as he slammed into me at an angle that did glorious things for everyone involved, and his teeth were on my neck. "I told you we could do better."
I could only murmur-groan in response. There was no way I could speak and make sense right now. I couldn't tell whether I was climbing toward a third orgasm or the second was spectacularly long and complex. I didn't actually care but it gave me something to think about as I tried to pull back the tension, the twisted-muscle clench that lived in my hips and belly, the one that only seemed to vanish when I imagined a big ball of rope methodically unknotting itself.
"I need—" I didn't know what I wanted to say. I just knew I needed something.
"Do you have a list about your orgasms?"
"Wh-what?"
"You make lists for everything," he panted. "I'm just wondering if you have one on how to make your cunt happy."
"Are you looking for some suggestions?"
He shook his head against my shoulder. "No, baby, I don't want the list. I want you to forget it ever existed. Rip it the fuck out."
All these sensations—his cock as he ground against me, his beard on my neck, his fingers holding my clit captive—they dragged me down as I reached for the edge of this orgasm. "Why?"
"Because that shit is over. Because I want the wild, screeching girl who can come on my cock twice without quitting. The one who doesn't think, doesn't plan a fucking thing. The one who wants it rowdy and messy and dirty. I want to be rowdy and messy and dirty with her."
"Oh my god," I whispered. "I want you to come all over me."
"Yes."
"I want you to eat my pussy after you come inside me."
"Mmm. That's it, precious girl. That's it."
"Would you? Really?" I asked, the doubt and shame prickling up my spine.
"As often as you wanted."
I didn't know if we were playing. I didn't really care. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. I want it."
He released his hold on my mound and that rush was enough to grab at my release but then he slapped me. He slapped my folds with barely enough force to consider it a true slap but my body did not care about such technicalities. No, my body was very busy learning how to have a catastrophic orgasm with the help of another person.
"That's right. That's what you need," he murmured.
In a distant sense, I knew he was talking and growling, and I felt him lash his arms around my torso and hold me tighter than was comfortable as he came, but I couldn't focus on anything but the unbelievable heat that seemed to radiate out from my pussy.
It was so much. So much. As if he knew I couldn't handle this, not all of it, Linden settled us against the pillows, his arms locked around me as I went on gasping and shaking. When I caught my breath, I realized he was still inside me, still twitching and pulsing.
"Whoa," I whispered. My head was soft and milky. I could fall asleep like this.
"Are you warm enough?"
He ran a palm down my arm and it was too much, just too much sensation. A shiver moved from my shoulders to my toes, and I clenched around him again, drawing groans from both of us. Then I shivered again. "I think so?"
"No, Jas, that's not what it looks like to be warm enough," he said, kicking the blankets out from underneath us and pulling them up.
Once the bedding was straightened out, he rolled away to handle the condom. When he returned, he ducked his head to my chest and teased my nipples with his beard. I sanded my fingers through his hair, sighing and squirming with every barely-there pass. Then he inched his way down my body until he was settled between my legs, the blankets bunched around his broad shoulders.
"Will you tell me about those tattoos now?" It seemed like I could ask this. Like I didn't have to bury my face in the pillows and pretend none of that had happened.
His lips skating along my inner thigh, he shook his head. "You already know I'm a Tolkien fan. They're just stray bits from the stories."
I gestured to his right arm. I couldn't reach past his shoulder in this position. "What does that say?"
His gaze still locked on my leg, he recited, "'One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them. One Ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them.'"
"And this?" I tapped the other shoulder. "What are those?"
He shifted to the other leg and occupied himself with dragging his lips and beard up until I writhed and giggled. Then, "It represents the Three Hunters. Aragorn's sword, Gimli's axe, and Legolas's arrow."
"Is that a triplet thing?"
He shrugged. "Not really. But somewhat. Depends on your interpretation."
Yes, it
was definitely a triplet thing.
He shouldered my legs apart as far as they'd go, ran his tongue along my seam. Another violent shiver moved through me. "What are you doing?"
"I keep promises," he replied simply. "And I'm keeping this one, as much as I can."
"You don't have to," I whispered.
"Here's what's going to happen now," he said, pushing up on an elbow. "I'm going to lick you until I get another one of those crazy screams out of you. Then I'm going to fuck you again and there's a pretty good chance I'll fall asleep after that because you are one hell of a handful, Peach."
I turned my head, glanced out the window at the night sky. "That's an interesting way of putting it."
"Don't do that." He reached up, pressed his fingers to my jaw, shifted me to face him again. "Let's get one thing straight, all right? If you even think about hiding from me now, I will hunt you down," he said. "I'll find you."
Everything they said about wolves? It was true.
They could see you better.
They could hear you better.
And they could eat you better.
15
Linden
For the second day in a row, I woke up with Jasper's ass tucked into my lap and my cock loving the sweet cradle of her cheeks. I could get used to this. I could get used to it real fast.
I shouldn't, of course. There were a ton of reasons why I shouldn't, though none of them came to mind when she reached back and took my shaft in hand. It was a sleepy kind of stroke, nothing hard or aggressive, just a slow skate up and down as I rubbed a thumb around her nipple.
If there was a reason this was wrong, I didn't want to concern myself with it. Not for a damn minute. Not when her whisper of a touch had sweat beading on my forehead and my hips jolting with that instinctual kick.
"Come here." A rough pluck to her nipple punctuated the order.
"Have we dispensed with pleasantries such as good morning and hello in favor of come here when it suits?"
My hand flat on the small of her back, I pulled until she flipped over, pushed until she straddled me. "Good morning," I said with a swift buck of my hips.
The Belle and the Beard Page 18
