Devoted to Love

by Shayla Black

  “What?” she gasped out.

  But she knew. Orgasm was on the verge of overtaking her again. His touch drove her mad, but his words added something else to the experience. A thrill, yes. But an intimacy. He knew her body. He’d demonstrated that repeatedly. He also knew her mind. He knew her fantasies. He spoke to them as if they were the only two people in the world.

  “Why don’t you show me, Magnolia? I know you want to . . .”

  Did she ever. The ache she would have sworn her last climax had sated sparked back to life, growing and thickening as he’d manhandled her and whispered seductive words in her ear. Now as he dipped his head and lifted her nipple to his mouth, Josiah compelled her as if her body were his toy to play with as he wished. She had no power to stop him.

  “I do,” she keened.

  “I know, baby. I know because I can’t help wanting to make you take the pleasure. Give me number three. I need it now.”

  He’d barely finished the sentence when her resistance gave way to a deep clench of pulsing bliss that made her shout out in throaty agony. He shoved his way deeper, not only with his cock but with his presence. He kissed her and took more of her secrets. He prolonged her climax with his touch and opened her soul.

  As she finally floated down from the sharpest, fastest pinnacle she could ever remember, Josiah groaned in her ear.

  “That was so fucking gorgeous. I need number four pronto.”

  She was sweaty, limp, and near exhaustion, and he wanted another orgasm right now? “Can’t. You’ve proved your point. You’re better at sex than Preston. Hell, you’re probably better at sex than anyone.”

  He laughed. “Glad to hear you think so. But I’m not inside you to prove that. I’m here because I can’t seem to fucking help myself. Your body is so sweet, but your tongue is sassy and unpredictable. Tart. I usually like women obedient, but I’ll be damned if you haven’t proven to me that you’re my fantasy on two legs. If you want me off you, baby, you’re going to have to tell me no.”

  Maggie didn’t see that happening. Every time this man put his hands on her, he unscrewed her common sense and destroyed her sense of self-preservation.

  “Or you could just leave me alone.” She teased him because, deep down, that was the last thing she wanted.

  Josiah scoffed, then gripped her hips and braced his big feet on the floorboard. “Never. Going. To. Happen.”

  He punctuated every word of his vow with a rough, deep thrust. This time, he didn’t stimulate her clit, as if he could magically read her body and knew she couldn’t handle the direct touch again quite yet. He also seemed to understand that she was too wrung out to rock on his cock and ignite her own sweet spot. No, her climb to number four was all him—his determination to flip her switches and send her tumbling into ecstasy. It was all him understanding her body and ruthlessly using the knowledge to his advantage.

  “Pinch your nipples,” he demanded as he shoved inside her again. “Hard. Make it count. I love to see them swell.”

  Instead of resisting him, Maggie worked with Josiah. She might have resisted number four initially, but after less than two minutes of his devoted effort to awaken and arouse her again, she gritted her teeth, caught his rhythm, and fought to crest it.

  The pleasure rose fast and strong, a gliding ascent. They were in this together. Of one mind. Of one spirit. Of one will. Instead of rubbing her independent streak wrong, Maggie clung tighter and gave herself over.

  Quickly, she reached the stars and soared. Weightless, sublime euphoria wracked her body, punctuated only by her high-pitched wail and his thick, unswerving praise.

  Maggie panted as she began to float down. Holy hell. What was happening to her? Sex had always been nice. A curiosity explored. An itch scratched. A pleasure experienced. It had never made her feel particularly fond of any man or—far more dangerous—close to him.

  But when Maggie finally reached earth, she landed in Josiah’s arms. He enclosed her in his embrace. Her soul followed, drifting gently into her body. Her heart fell next, but when it settled into her chest . . . the damn thing didn’t feel wholly hers anymore.

  “What are you doing to me?” Her voice shook.

  Maybe she was in shock or simply exhausted. Whatever this was, she’d never felt it before. It caused tears to prickle her eyes. It caused the armor around her heart to melt.

  He met her stare head on, suddenly somber, and unblinking. “I could ask you the same thing.”

  “I have no idea what’s happening.” But Maggie was afraid she did.

  Josiah skated his palms up her back and brought her closer, soothing her, before he wound his fingers around her sweat-damp tresses and kissed her hungrily, possessively. That mysterious feeling turned up a notch and, weirdly, turned her on more.

  She threw her arms around him, squeezing him with her thighs, gripping him with her sex. In that moment she never wanted to let him go. With his eyes, his touch, he gave her his raw heat, his covetous need. Feeling beautiful with a man wasn’t new. Feeling treasured was, and it took her breath away.

  “We’ll get number five together,” he murmured against her lips before he took them again.

  Maggie didn’t argue. His demand would have been impossible for another man. Josiah had already proven he was more than capable.

  “You’ll come with me?”

  “Fuck, yes. I’ve been dying to.” He held up his palms. “Give me your hands, Magnolia.”

  She pressed her palms against his, and he curled their fingers together, entwining their hands as effectively as their bodies.

  They exchanged no more words. They both understood what the other needed.

  She shifted up his hard shaft, poised on her knees, cradling his crest just inside her opening. When her breast brushed his mouth, he licked his way around her nipple, then gave it a soft bite. As she cried out, he rose beneath her.

  Maggie lowered herself, meeting him halfway in a slow melding until she enveloped every inch of him. As their bodies joined completely, they groaned together. Tingles spilled between her legs. Fire ignited her bloodstream. Euphoria swam in her head.

  He grabbed her hands tighter and kissed her fiercely. Maggie stroked him slowly again, and together they surged, then crashed. The mingled sounds of their pleasure filled the cab. Condensation covered the windows. Arousal hung thick in the air. Maggie hardly noticed anything beyond Josiah.

  “Look at me,” he demanded as he lifted her up, withdrawing and refusing to move again until she gave him exactly what he sought.

  The moment Maggie met his stare, he thrust her down again, seating himself completely. She gasped, her head falling back. He wasn’t any deeper inside her physically, but mentally? Emotionally? Somehow, they’d fused into one. He exerted his will to deepen their connection until Maggie couldn’t deny that their joining no longer had anything to do with either of them making a point or mere pleasure.

  With a nudge of his hips, he urged her to rise. Obediently, she did until he pulled back. But then he was no longer inside her, filling her, one with her. Denial—and panic—tore through her chest.

  “Josiah?” She searched his face. “Please.”

  With an insistent growl, he plunged Maggie back down onto his thick shaft again, seeming to delve into her even deeper. She reveled as he filled her. They hung there, together. She balanced herself with nothing more than his grip on her fingers and his steadying stare on her face as she opened herself even more, welcoming him inside her deeper than any man had ever been.

  Warning sirens and flashing lights went off somewhere in her head, but she ignored the distant calls. It was too late for self-preservation. All she saw, smelled, felt, and wanted was Josiah. God, he could see her. Not the her on the outside, but as he simultaneously penetrated her with his body and his gaze, he glimpsed her naked vulnerability, the woman she kept hidden underneath the sass and the
bluster.

  That both thrilled and terrified her.

  Josiah simply smiled as sweat dampened his temples and ran in rivulets down his neck. His breath turned harsh. His face flushed. “God, you’re beautiful.”

  Everything about the way he touched her aroused her. She mewled and tightened on him, falling even harder.

  “That’s it . . .” He picked up the pace of their thrusts.

  Together, they were in sync. They were electric. They were perfect.

  Josiah let go of her hands and clenched her hips once more, guiding her strokes into a faster rhythm. His fingers bit into her. “I want to own you in every fucking way I can.”

  The words came out in a forceful pant, as if he’d fought with himself and lost the battle.

  Maggie swallowed. “Right now, I want to let you.”

  “Yes. Now give me number five.” He clenched her flesh tighter, fingers pressing into her backside, still warm and throbbing from his spanking. And when she cried out with the sensations, he swallowed as if grappling for control. “No, never mind that. Give me all of you—your pleasure, your pain. Your soul.”

  His words seized her breath, along with the way he filled her. Together, they rocked and writhed, their tempos melding into a shared rhythm. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and pulled herself closer to him. He’d awakened her body so thoroughly, she buzzed. Her skin tingled. Her mind pinged. Her heart pounded. Every part of her was attuned to him alone.

  “I already feel you there,” she sobbed.

  Fear mingled with gravity. Every moment, every touch linking them together, felt profound. With any other man, the minute the orgasm wore off, she moved on. With Josiah, she was praying he never left.

  What had he done to her?

  Then he captured her lips and dropped a hand between their bodies to kick-start her climax. Already well on the path to another cataclysmic jolt, it didn’t take much until she gasped into his kiss, swiveled frantically for more of the dazzling sensations, then felt herself soaring straight toward the bliss only he could give her.

  Josiah grabbed her hips, propelled his way inside her, and willed her with a growl. “Now.”

  With one word, Maggie crested into a pleasure so complete, she cried out for him until she ran out of air and voice. Josiah held her like she was his everything, locked his stare with hers, and yelled out his release. Watching him let go of his iron control, knowing she was the woman who’d gotten to him, flung her into another realm of ecstasy.

  After their frantic mutual pleasure, exhaustion pulled her under. She could no longer hold herself up, so she slumped over, letting Josiah catch her. Normally, she’d never trust a man that much. But for the first time in her life, she was beginning to believe he might be there for her whenever she fell.

  CHAPTER 9

  Josiah stretched, languid and drowsy. Moments he’d spent with Maggie last night rolled in and out of his hazy thoughts. He hadn’t been able to get enough of her, even after they’d returned to her grandparents’ ranch and tumbled back into Shealyn’s bed.

  Seeking Maggie’s warmth, he reached for her. When he felt her beside him, soft and sleeping and snuggled in blankets, his relief was instant and acute.

  Rolling closer, he spooned her sweet body, gratified when she relaxed against him with a sigh. Because he couldn’t stop himself, he kissed her bare shoulder—and barely resisted the need to press his aching cock inside her once more.

  As they lay together in the morning silence broken only by birds chirping faintly in the distance, their breathing synced up. Slowly, sleep dissipated. His thoughts began to clear. Reality crowded in. And peace evaporated as one question pelted him over and over.

  What the hell had he done last night?

  After Whitney, he should have fucking learned how to lock down his heart and stick to just sex. Magnolia West was making that impossible.

  Grimacing, Josiah rolled out of bed and donned his jeans. His gaze strayed back to Maggie, who restlessly grabbed her pillow as if she missed him and now sought warmth and comfort.

  It would be so easy to slide back into bed with her . . . and even easier to fall deeper under her spell. But he was here to stop Enlightenment Fields from taking her family’s land. Period. He’d come here to work on that.

  No, he wasn’t blaming Maggie or women in general for what had gone wrong in his past. He wasn’t bitter—well, not totally—and he didn’t believe that Maggie was as duplicitous as Whitney. He simply didn’t want another commitment. After his wedding had fallen apart, he’d promised himself never again because he fucking hated being vulnerable. Besides, Maggie would be just fine without him.

  He yanked his shirt over his head, raked a hand through his hair, and went in search of coffee. He’d just poured a cup when her grandfather walked in and greeted him with a nod.

  “Morning.” Josiah nodded in return.

  The man usually didn’t have much to say. Today, he reached for the pot when Josiah set it down, not looking his way as he poured the java. “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Sure.” Josiah sipped his brew. Undoubtedly, this was where the old man would ask him to protect his granddaughter while he was out of town, make sure that no one and nothing harmed her. He probably had a speech rehearsed about how fragile Maggie was, how sheltered her life had been, and how much she needed someone to look after her in his absence.

  “The next time you have sex with Maggie in a parking lot, would you keep the volume down? Oh, and don’t leave her car there overnight. People might notice.”

  He barely managed not to spit his coffee out. “Excuse me?”

  The old man calmly added sugar to his cup and stirred. “I’m old, boy. That means I’m not naive. I know Maggie has, ahem . . . looked for love with guys she shouldn’t. That probably includes you. I just hope she doesn’t rip your heart out like the last few. Sawyer is still moping. But we live in a small town. Foggy windows in a rocking truck at the bar down the road don’t usually fly under the locals’ radar. I had a phone call about your shenanigans before you even left the parking lot.” He shrugged. “Thankfully, this friend won’t spread gossip. Not that Maggie cares about her reputation, and I have no illusions about who she is. Shealyn has always been a good girl, but Magnolia . . . She’s got a wild hair, like her mother. I’m not sure any man will ever tame her. But if you give two shits about her, next time you won’t plow her in semipublic and you won’t leave her car in the lot all night, giving folks a reason to wag their damn chins.”

  Josiah groped for a reply. “Mr. West, I—”

  “Don’t try to convince me you’ve never touched Maggie. I hate liars, and I know what you two are doing upstairs. I see the way you look at her, like she’s a present you haven’t finished unwrapping.”

  Fuck. The old man might well complain to Cutter, who would bitch to Logan, who would definitely tell EM Security’s co-owners, Hunter and Joaquin, who would collectively chew his ass out for being unprofessional and not keeping his pants zipped. And they would be right. Postwedding nookie was one thing, but now he was on a job. He also worried about whether this would put Maggie at odds with her grandparents. Josiah didn’t at all like the thought that he might have heaped trouble on her.

  “She’s a beautiful woman, sir. She’s interesting as hell. And . . .” Maybe he shouldn’t tell her grandfather that she was hotter than any woman he’d ever fucked.

  “Tying you up in knots, too? You poor bastard. Like I said, you’re not the first to fall under her spell.” The old man shook his head. “You won’t be the last.”

  Did Maggie really run through men that quickly? “What about Davis?”

  Maggie’s grandfather waved that concern away. “He might be the only guy she dated who didn’t get hurt. Then again, he’s light in the loafers. Yes, I know that’s not a PC term, but I’m too old to care. He came out shortly after the engageme
nt ended. Supposedly, he’s happier, so good for him. But Maggie is my problem and my responsibility. You seem like a decent enough guy. Unless you want your heart ripped out, I suggest you step back.”

  The old man was warning him away for his own good? “I can handle her.”

  But hadn’t he been thinking just ten minutes ago that he should put distance between them?

  “Pfft. Every guy thinks that. Can’t tell you how many have sat in my office, looking all torn to bits because the girl doesn’t get attached. Hell, she went to prom with one guy and left with another. She’s as close to her sister as she ever will be to another human being. My wife and I have done our best to give her affection and a loving home . . . Mags has always kept herself a little removed. We even bought her a kitten to soothe her when she was four because she started having night terrors. She liked the cat. She played with the cat. She even cuddled the cat. When he had to be put down Maggie’s senior year of high school, everyone cried but her. I love that girl to death, but I worry she’s broken.”

  Josiah had wondered something similar, but he still felt the urge to defend her. “Maybe she just hasn’t found the right guy.”

  “You keep thinking that. See where it gets you.” Maggie’s grandfather drained the rest of his cup and started to leave the room. “We’ll be ready to leave for San Antonio to catch that plane in an hour.”

  Josiah stared after the old man. He wasn’t surprised Maggie’s grandfather had warned him away, just shocked at his rationale. Was she actually incapable of committing?

  He was still contemplating that question when his phone buzzed in his pocket with a text from fellow operative Zyron.