And he asked, “Okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered. And then she groaned. “Don’t you dare stop.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He parted her gently. Already, she was very wet. And then he eased one finger in.
Oh, it was wonderful. Better than when she did the same thing to herself. Better because she trusted him and at the same time, there was an element of surprise and of the deliciously forbidden to all this. And oh, the feel of him, the heat of him, the size and the power in his big, male body. He was all around her, touching her, holding her...
She wasn’t a complete innocent with men. Now and then, she’d fooled around a little when she really liked a guy. But it had never been like this. She’d had nothing this intimate, this amazing. Not ever in her life before.
It was a first in the most wonderful way.
He slipped that finger in and then another, and he moved them in and out. At the same time, he used his thumb in just the right spot. His mouth stayed at her breast, drawing on it.
She felt the shimmer building within her—so good, so right. With Will, of all people.
Seriously. Who knew?
She barely remembered her earlier nervousness. All she felt was his big body bending over her, his mouth on her breast, his hand at the core of her, stroking her, a third finger gently easing in. She moved her hips, rocking. And he went on caressing her.
And then, just like that, hardly even expecting it, clutching his head to her breast and crying out, she came.
* * *
“Rest,” he said several minutes later, in a low, rough rumble.
She still felt a certain glow, a sense of complete well-being. By then, her breathing had evened out again. She started to argue, “But I’m not tired and I want...”
He silenced her with a finger against her lips. She smelled her own musky scent. My goodness. The room smelled of sex.
She couldn’t help it. She smiled in delight at the thought.
“Rest,” he whispered again. “It’s just you and me in this house. Nobody’s going to bother us. We have all the time in the world.”
All the time in the world...
No, they didn’t have that, not really—not in the grand scheme of things. Yes, they had weeks yet before their marriage ended and she went off to Missoula. Weeks together. But it was all zipping by much too fast. His lips brushed her temple, his breath stirring her hair.
She just had to ask, “But what about you? Aren’t you feeling a little—”
“Jordyn, I’m fine.”
“You’re not going to explode or anything?” For that, she got a strangled sound from him. She grumbled, “Don’t you laugh at me.”
“Okay, baby...”
“Will. You just called me baby.”
“You don’t like that?”
She considered. “No, I do. I think I really do.”
“Well, okay, then—and no, I’m not going to explode. Or anything.” He pulled the covers up over them.
For a little while, trying her best to be obedient—which they both knew was not her forte—she made herself just lie there beside him in the dark.
But there was no way she could sleep. Not yet. She was much too excited. Much too curious, too...captivated. She’d waited so very long for this night with this man. She had zero regrets that she’d waited.
But no way was she stopping now.
“Will?”
“Rest, Jordyn.”
“I’ve been thinking.”
He chuckled, the sound a lovely, low rumble. “Somehow, I’m not the least bit surprised.”
“I want to see you. But I’m still not all that comfortable with you seeing me. So I’m thinking, you can shut your eyes and promise not to peek. And I’ll turn on the light.”
“You’re not going to rest, are you?” He didn’t sound all that upset about it.
“Uh-uh. Are your eyes shut?”
A silence, then, “Yeah.”
“No cheating.”
“Promise.”
There was a lamp on her side of the bed, too. She clutched the sheet to her chest and felt her way up the base until she found the switch. Soft light pushed back the shadows.
She glanced at Will over her shoulder. He was on his back with his eyes closed, as promised. He had the covers up to his chest. She admired the sculpted perfection of his neck and shoulders, the totally tempting sight of all that tanned, healthy skin against the white sheets. “No peeking,” she warned.
He tried to hide his grin. “Clear on that.”
“I’m just going to peel back the blankets.”
He said nothing, but his lips kept twitching.
So she pulled on the blankets, easing them down—all the way down, finally pushing them into a wad at the footboard.
Will didn’t move.
And oh, my. The view was absolutely splendid. He was all hard planes and lean, strong muscles. And still aroused, so she didn’t have to suffer performance anxiety over how to get him interested again.
And he looked just as large as he’d felt. She was no expert, but he seemed pretty darn big to her. She could definitely get a little performance anxiety over that, given her likely virginity and all. But then again, he was a man, and she was a woman, and the thing to remember was that the two of them were born to fit.
“Oh, Will...” She bent close to him and rested her forehead against his. “Do you believe we’re doing this?”
He didn’t speak, just moved his head in one slow pass from side to side.
She took the lead, kissing him, starting out slow the way he’d done with her, brushing his lips with hers, nipping his lower lip, waiting for him to open to her before dipping her tongue inside. After a little while, he reached up and banded his wonderful arms around her.
And after that, she couldn’t have said who was running things. He touched her all over. And she grew bolder, even daring to reach down and wrap her fingers around him. He felt like heaven, so silky. Rock hard.
He groaned into her mouth, and then he curled his hand around hers. He showed her how he liked it, which was a lot harder and faster than she would have guessed.
And then, when she sensed he was just on the edge, he caught her hand and muttered a bad word under his breath. She took that to mean he didn’t want to come that way.
And that was all right with her, because he instantly began caressing her again, parting her, stroking her, bringing her right to the point where she knew she would go over.
“Wait,” she moaned. “I want...”
He made a low, growling sound and swore some more.
She pleaded, “Condom, Will. Please. I want you, all of you.”
For once, he didn’t argue. “Drawer,” he groaned. “My side...” He let her go, and she took one from the box in the drawer and got it out of the wrapper. And then he whispered to her, guiding her, as she rolled it down over him.
She grabbed the tube of lubricant off the nightstand. “Hold out your hand.”
He obeyed. She squeezed a little onto his fingers and then onto hers, and then she stroked it on over the condom.
He groaned as she smoothed it on him, at the same time rubbing his thumb over the shiny drops on his fingers, spreading them. “It might be better if you were on top and in control,” he suggested, eyes still shut as he had promised her, dark, thick lashes lustrous against his tan cheeks.
“Yes. Me on top. I think that would be perfect.”
A ragged sound escaped him—but then he said gently, “All right, then.”
She eased a leg over him and rose to her knees above him. He touched her then, adding the lubricant, making her wetter, slicker, more eager than ever. She rocked her hips in time with his fingers, loving every knowing stroke.
“Whenever you’re ready,” he whispered, sounding calm, but with a definite edge.
She drew in a long, slow breath and wrapped her hand around him, loving the way his hard belly tightened even more at her touch. Rising higher on her knees, she guided him into place. Carefully, she began to lower herself onto him. “Oh!” She froze, hovering above him as her body resisted. Already, he was stretching her. And he was hardly in at all.
“You okay?” He groaned the words.
“I...need a minute.”
“We have all night.” It was sweet of him to say that. But the look on his face betrayed him. That look said he was burning to get on with it. She had no doubt that this moment was as agonizing for him as it was for her. But then he whispered, “Easy. It’s okay...” And he touched her again.
It helped, his caress. He knew right where she needed the stimulation. She let her head fall back and closed her eyes, sighing, as her body eased and opened around him. The discomfort passed. Heat coiled in the center of her and then began to spread, relaxing her further, and exciting her at the same time. It started to feel good again, to have him there, slick and hard and ready, almost inside her.
She wanted more. She wanted to be filled with him, joined with him, moving on him.
By slow degrees, she pressed down, taking him, pausing every time it started to hurt. Even the ache of him stretching her had a certain promise to it as they waited together, both of them breathing hard, for her body to accept him and welcome him deeper.
At the last, when they were almost there, he grasped her hips in his two hands and pulled her down to meet him.
“Will...” She groaned his name.
“Okay?”
“Oh, yes...”
“Good.”
“Yes...”
He took her shoulders and pulled her down to him and pressed a string of kisses along the curve of her cheek. He nipped her chin, licked the tender skin along the side of her throat. Finally, he claimed her mouth again. She opened for him eagerly.
It lasted forever, that kiss.
Her hair fell all around them, and he gathered it up and smoothed it down her back, stroking it, then tangling his fingers in it.
Oh, it was glorious, the taste of his mouth, the breadth of his big body beneath hers, his hands in her hair, the first-in-a-lifetime feeling of him filling her below.
She began to move. Or maybe he moved first. Who could say for sure, and what did it matter, anyway? She only knew that it worked for her, to lift and come down to him, lose him and claim him again, while he let her retreat and then brought her close once more, his hands on her hips now, guiding her, holding her, making it so very good for her.
He kept his eyes closed, as promised. And the longer he moved inside her, the more dishonest it seemed to hide from him in any way.
“Will?”
He made a guttural questioning sound.
“Would you...look at me now?”
Those black lashes swept up. And she was staring into all that blue. “Beautiful.” He said it like he meant it.
She closed her eyes in pleasure and rocked on him faster, feeling her body gathering, shimmering, hitting the peak. With a cry, she went over, throwing her head back as completion cascaded through her.
And then he was sweeping his fine, rough hands up to her waist, lifting and turning her, so he was on top. Those blue eyes burned down at her. “Don’t...want to hurt you...”
“You won’t,” she managed to whisper, though the fading waves of her climax still shuddered through her. “You never could...”
He pushed up on his fists then and powered into her, hard and fast. It shocked her a little—but she breathed deep and went with it, wrapping her legs around him, riding it out.
And then he came down to her again, gathering her into him, groaning her name. She felt him pulse within her. Oh, that was lovely. Perfect.
All of it, exactly as she’d always dreamed it might be.
She twined her arms around him and held him to her heart.
Chapter Thirteen
Jordyn moved her stuff into Will’s room when she got home from work the next day. “Because for as long as we have,” she told him, “I want us to be together. Really together.”
Will knew he shouldn’t let her do that, just as he shouldn’t have said yes to her the night before. It was wrong to get in so deep with her. Wrong for her, because she needed to move on and follow her dream. She didn’t need him dragging her back.
Wrong for him, because making love with her and sharing his room with her only made it harder to imagine letting her go. He should have made himself say no.
But he didn’t, not when she moved her stuff into his bedroom. And not last night, when she’d asked him to be her first—and no, she hadn’t pushed him. She hadn’t had to push him. She’d just been beautiful and sweet and honest with him, and then asked him to think it over.
There was nothing to think over. Last night he would have given the ranch he’d finally just got to hold her in his arms all night long.
So he went for it.
And was it worth it?
Oh, you bet.
Maybe he shouldn’t have said yes. Maybe he had no right to take what she offered, to be her first.
Too bad.
He’d done it, anyway. And now he intended to enjoy every second he had with her. He was going to love every minute of it and not feel guilty about it.
And when the time came, he would let her go with a gentle word and a smile on his face.
That night when they sat down to dinner, he looked across the table at her and could hardly believe that in just a few hours, they would be together in his bed. She glanced up from her plate of spaghetti, those fine blue eyes sparkling at him.
He decided right then that a few hours was too long to wait.
The minute they had the table cleared, he took her hand and led her to the bedroom. That night was even better than the night before. He didn’t have to be so careful not to hurt her. And she was more relaxed, less shy. Plus, they left the light on the whole time, and he got to look at her. Looking at her was almost as good as having his hands on her.
Friday night they made love on the sofa. He missed half the baseball game. And he didn’t care in the least.
Saturday at four in the morning, the old billy set up a racket, crying like a baby out in the goat pen. When the aggravating critter kept at it for more than ten minutes, they dragged themselves from the bed, pulled on their clothes and ran out to see what the hell was going on. They got to the pen just in time to watch the nanny deliver a black-spotted kid.
Jordyn made a fuss over the kid—and praised the old billy for calling them out there. The billy talked right back to her, bleating out a cry every time she finished a sentence.
Will grunted. “You know, you shouldn’t encourage him.”
“But he’s a sweetheart, and I love him,” she argued, and then she told the billy, “Oh, I am going to miss you when I go...”
The billy bleated at her, a pitiful sound, as though he couldn’t stand the thought of her leaving.
Will couldn’t stand it, either. At that moment, he felt like she’d kicked him right in the gut.
Which was all wrong. What was his problem here? They knew where they stood, and she hadn’t said anything he didn’t already know.
He turned away to pull himself together. Lucky for him, she was busy playing kissy-face with the goat and didn’t notice that he was acting like a fool.
When he could look at her without scowling, he said, “I guess I’ll just go ahead and tend the horses, get the morning chores out of the way
now that I’m up.”
She offered, “I’ll help.”
“No need.” He turned and headed toward the barn and the horse pasture on the far side.
“Will. Wait up!” She came right after him.
He had to restrain himself from turning on her and ordering her to leave him the hell alone. Instead, he stopped and drew in a slow breath and faced her and made himself say calmly, “Go on in and get the coffee started, why don’t you?”
She caught her lower lip between her teeth, and he wanted to bite that lip himself, to grab her and kiss her until neither of them could see straight, then to lift her up in his arms and carry her back to his bed.
And never let her go.
She asked in a small voice, “What’s wrong?”
Somehow, he pulled himself back from the brink of saying or doing anything too stupid. He schooled his voice to gentleness. “Not a thing. I won’t be long.”
She studied his face. He knew that look in her eyes. She didn’t believe him and she wanted to keep after him.
But miracle of miracles, she let it go. “Okay. See you inside...” And she went.
He stood there in the predawn darkness, watching her walk away, and tried to congratulate himself on not losing his cool over nothing. But congratulations didn’t come easy when he just felt like crap about everything.
The weekend went by with a minimum of idiocy on his part. They went to Kalispell for dinner and a movie Saturday night. When they came home, they made love for hours. Sunday night, they had Cece and Nick, Rita and Charles Dalton, and the Stevaliks over for dinner. That got a little iffy for him—because it was so good.
Good to have friends and family and neighbors over. Good to sit at the head of his own dining room table and look at Jordyn Leigh down at the other end. Good to realize that right at that moment, he had everything he’d worked for since he was ten and had decided that one day he would have a ranch of his own.
He’d done it. He had what he’d wanted for so many long years. He had his ranch and a house to call home. And for the moment, anyway, he shared his dream with a woman who had somehow turned out to be everything he hadn’t even known he was looking for. Everything he wanted—and she’d been in his life all along.
The Maverick's Accidental Bride (Montana Mavericks: What Happened At The Wedding Book 1) (Contemporary Cowboy Romance) Page 18
