by BETH KERY
He edged closer to her on the bed, his knee bumping against the wedge pillow where she lay. One hand still moving between her legs, he opened the other over her lower belly. She wore a one-piece bathing suit to swim at camp. Her stomach and breasts were paler than the rest of her. Alice glanced down, spellbound by the sensation of his warm hand and the vision of it spread against that vulnerable expanse of pale skin. He caressed her and she trembled beneath him.
“You’re so sweet,” he praised thickly, pumping his finger in and out of her channel more forcefully. With the hand on her belly, he reached, parting her labia. He groaned, deep and rough. Alice’s head fell back on the mattress, undone by the vision of his male hunger as he stared at her exposed outer sex.
“Why do you color your hair?” he asked her tensely.
She was dizzy with arousal. She couldn’t compute his question. “I don’t,” she said thickly, thinking he’d meant she dyed her pubic hair. Her entire awareness was on what he was doing to her pussy, and she couldn’t think far past that territory.
“I mean on your head, Alice,” she heard him say with strained amusement. Distantly, she realized he knew her dark hair color wasn’t natural, because of the light brown, strawberry-tinted hair between her thighs.
“Never mind. I know. It’s because you want to blend in, isn’t it?” he asked. He rubbed the tip of his forefinger in the cleft of her labia, stimulating her clit, and she completely lost the ability to focus on conversation.
She moaned uncontrollably. She was wet between her labia, too. Burning. He applied a firm pressure against her lubricated clit, pressing and sliding and agitating until she felt a scream rising in her throat. At the same time, his knuckles bumped gently against her outer sex as he fucked her harder with his finger. She lay there, hating her helplessness and loving it at once, burning … about to reach a flashpoint at any moment.
“Are you going to come for me?” she heard Dylan say. She opened her heavy eyelids only to see him staring at her face. Her lips felt puffy and sensitive. Her cheeks must be bright red.
“Yes,” she managed shakily.
A small snarl shaped his mouth. He pushed his finger into her faster, his other forefinger stirring her clit vigorously in the juicy cleft of her labia. She sizzled. The undersides of her suspended feet burned. Her toes curled inward.
“Dylan.”
His name still burning her tongue and lips, she tilted her chin back and ignited. He pushed another finger into her. She shook in pleasure. He grunted, low and rough, and finger-fucked her hard while she came. A high-pitched wail entered her awareness, and she realized it was her own pleasure she heard like a siren pounding in her head. At the realization, she choked it off, mortified.
“Don’t hold back,” he grated out harshly. He stirred her clit faster and thrust forcefully with his fingers. Her scream broke free from her throat.
“That’s right,” she thought she heard him snarl as a fresh shudder rippled through her.
She came back to herself when he nipped at her lower lip. She opened her eyes, still panting, to see Dylan’s mouth hovering over hers. He looked quite fierce. “Don’t hold back from me, Alice. I’ll want my due. Always,” he said, before he seized her mouth with his.
His kiss was almost angry … certainly all consuming. She moaned into his mouth, both overwhelmed by the strength of his lust and hungry for it at once. He probed her mouth, making it clear his intent to plant himself deeply in her. When he sealed their kiss roughly a moment later, she was craning up for more of him. But he was pushing himself up onto his knees. She blinked at the vision of him. She hadn’t even realized he’d straddled and come down over her while she recovered from her shattering climax. His longish bangs were sexily mussed and his eyes narrowed. His jean-covered thighs looked long and strong as he knelt there. Her stare froze at his crotch. Things looked very full there.
“Don’t look at me like that, Alice.”
She blinked and met his gaze. “I wanted to play with you more, but you’re making it hard.” He slid his hand against his erection and grimaced. “Jesus,” he muttered, his gaze stuck between her thighs. He’d spread her thighs further when he’d come down over her just now, making room for his body. He put his hands on her hips. “Let’s just turn you over,” he said, his voice a rough caress. Alice turned at his urging, her breathing still choppy, her flesh still torpid and tingling from orgasm. Her belly came down on the soft suede slant of the wedge, her ass at the edge. “Now reach again with your arms,” he said from behind her, and she felt his hand glide down the stretch between her shoulder and elbow, urging her to straighten. She pressed her hot cheek to the soft duvet and panted, anxious anticipation and arousal rising in her again. “There. I want your arms to stay like that,” he said quietly from behind her. The heavy fullness behind his fly brushed fleetingly against her raised, bare ass, scattering her thoughts. Then he was sweeping his hand from her upper arm and down the length of her back. She shivered in pleasure when he stroked and then cupped a buttock.
“Beautiful,” he murmured thickly. “You’ve got a gorgeous ass.”
She made a shaky sound of arousal as he took both cheeks in his big hands and massaged her lewdly.
“I want to see you,” she voiced her most fervent wish at that moment. He hadn’t let her see and touch him in the stables. He wasn’t allowing it again. Her need started to cut at her.
He parted her ass cheeks. Alice whimpered at the sudden exposure, her muscles tightening. She couldn’t see him, but she felt his stare on her, scoring her.
He groaned roughly and got off the bed.
Alice lifted her cheek, wild to know what he was doing. He stood at the side of the bed and ripped at the button fly of his jeans. He whipped off his shirt in one fluid, sinuous motion. She went very still, staring at the lean, ridged expanse of his taut abdomen and wide chest. He was beautiful. Powerful. So male, it made her ache to look at him. There was a fair amount of dark hair on his chest, but not too much. She could perfectly see the delineation of hard muscle and his small, erect nipples. His ribs and abdomen made a tapestry of ridges of bone and muscle along with smooth stretches of skin. Her brows furrowed when she saw two small white scars on his right side below his ribs, one slightly larger than the other. Surgery scars, maybe? The jaggedness of them argued against it. Concern fractured her arousal slightly. But she didn’t ask. She didn’t like it when people noticed her invisible scars, so she instinctively stilled her tongue about his visible ones.
Those small imperfections only seemed to highlight the appeal of everything else, a tiny vulnerability in a sea of masculine strength. A thin trail of dark silky hair led from just below his bellybutton, transecting a taut belly and disappearing elusively into the V of his partially unbuttoned fly.
God, what she wanted to do to him.
Then he knelt and she was deprived of the elusive mouthwatering vision as he jerked at the laces on his hiking boots. But an entire new fascinating landscape of his muscular shoulders and back was revealed to her. She felt that pull she always experienced around him, that inner tug to draw closer.
“Dylan,” she muttered, starting to rise up and edge off the wedged pillow toward him.
He glanced up, his eyes seeming to glow in his shadowed face.
“Stay there, Alice,” he said firmly. “Don’t move.”
She paused, biting her lip.
He stood, the vision of him dominating her vision. She felt strangely helpless lying there naked with her bottom sticking up in the air and her thighs parted, but intensely aroused as well. Something about waiting for him—anticipating what was coming next—spiked her lust.
He kicked off his boots and shucked off his socks quickly. His face looked hard and tight as he ripped at the remaining buttons of his fly and hooked his thumbs into both his jeans and white underwear at once. He pulled forward on the waistband of his boxer briefs, and his heavy erection fell free. Alice’s breath stuck at the brief electrical glimpse, but th
en he was bending and forcefully shucking the rest of his clothes off his legs.
Finally, he stood before her, naked.
Once, Alice would have thought it rude just to gape in open-mouthed wonder at a man, but all the rules seemed to go out the door with Dylan. Besides, she loved the way he ate her up with his unguarded male hunger. Why shouldn’t she reciprocate? Anyway … there wasn’t really any other way to react to the sight of Dylan naked and aroused.
“Is this what you wanted to see?” he asked her quietly.
Her breath caught and fresh heat rushed into her cheeks and sex when he took his cock into his hand and rubbed it slowly. He was heavy with arousal, the shaft suspended between strong thighs. The head was smooth and succulent looking, flaring from the tip to a defined ridge beneath the crown. The shaft was thick and straight, his testicles round and shaved.
“Yes,” she whispered, caught in a spell of pure lust. She’d known he was formidable and flagrant from his possession in the stables, but the vision of him left her breathless. Her mouth watered. She swept her tongue along her lower lip to gather the extra moisture.
“Alice,” he said tightly.
She blinked, her gaze darting to his face. She quailed a little inwardly, he looked so intimidating at that moment. He took a step and jerked open a bedside table drawer. He withdrew what she recognized as a condom, and then he was clambering on the bed behind her, six feet and several inches of hard primed male. She lifted her head and strained to look around, desperate for the sight of him.
He opened his hand along her hip and rubbed her ass. “Put your head back on the mattress,” he said.
“But—”
“Alice. Please. I want you to feel, not see.”
“Why?” burst exasperatedly out of her throat. His other hand was on her now, sliding up the length of her back. She exhaled in pleasure as he stroked her, her argument forgotten. Her burning cheek sank against the cool duvet.
“You’re incredible,” he rumbled behind her. He kneaded her shoulder muscles and a buttock at once. He palmed her ass so possessively that he lifted her flesh. She could feel the cool air strike the wetness between her thighs. “Dylan, please,” she whispered hoarsely.
“Be patient. I’m enjoying touching you,” he said. She bit her lip upon hearing the edge to his tone. He would take things at his own pace, whether she liked it or not. She did like it, though. Too much. He held her hips with both hands and paused, and again that overwhelming sense of arousal and … something else. What was it she was feeling?
It just felt so good, so grounding and right to be held by his hands.
A choked sound left her throat. “Shhh,” he soothed, his hands moving along the side of her ribs. With her hands stretched above her, the skin was pulled very taut. She shivered in pleasure every time he touched her there, like a plucked harp string. “I can feel you tremble. Does this feel good?” he asked, now stroking the side of her ribs.
“You know it does,” she mumbled.
“And this?” he ran his thumb down her spine. Her eyelids clamped shut. She quaked and cried out at the pleasurable sensation of his short, blunt-tipped nail scraping her backbone.
“Yes,” she gasped.
He continued down her lower back. Her eyelids sprang open when he ran his thumb very lightly along the crack of her ass. Then, without warning, he palmed her entire outer sex and thrust his middle finger into her sheath. He moved his hand in a subtle circular motion, stimulating her sensitive lips and her clit.
“And this?”
“God, yes,” she hissed.
“I think I’d like to watch you come again. You need to get comfortable with trusting me. With letting go.”
He slid his finger high into her, and then removed it from her pussy. With his other fingers, he parted her labia and slid the well-lubricated middle finger against her clit. Alice moaned uncontrollably. Again, she started to burn. She was so helpless lying there, a raw, undefended bundle of nerves. All she could do was throb and feel and give in to it. The sound of him moving rigorously in her sex reached her ears. How embarrassing. She was drenched. She moaned louder, unable to stop herself.
“God, it’s going to feel so fucking good inside you,” he said from behind her, his tone lust-bitten. Dark. He wasn’t unaffected by all this, despite his dominance and insistence upon setting the pace. She lost all sense of time as he stroked her. Her fingers clawed at the duvet. The soles of her feet grew hot. He stirred her masterfully … relentlessly, and she felt herself cresting. She strained for it, craved it.
She broke, shuddering in release.
“Yeah. Give me that,” she heard him snarl through the roar in her ears. She felt him part her, widening her slit. As always, his actions struck her as matter-of-factly masterful, as if he knew his way around her body better than she did. He pressed the steely head of his cock at her entrance.
She screamed as he entered her. She was still climaxing. It was too much pressure, too much pleasure. He held her hips in place and drove into her, grunting savagely. Her eyes sprang wide and she clawed at the sheets. Because of the wedge pillow and her elevated hips, he was striking her at an angle she’d never before experienced. Because of his size, he was piercing her deeper than she’d ever known. He began to thrust with that stunning, sinuous glide of his hips.
She inhaled raggedly for oxygen, and then screamed anew.
He set a wicked pace. She gripped the bedding as the storm that was Dylan rocked her. She had no other choice but to take it, and she was glad for it, pleased that he overwhelmed her senses and made thinking an utter impossibility. She didn’t want to think about how helpless she was when she was with him, how vulnerable. The suede pillow beneath her was soft, but her body was set against the grain of the fabric. That—and more importantly, Dylan’s tight hold on her hips and ass—made her completely immobile as he thrust into her powerfully again and again.
“Tight, hot little pussy,” he grated out from behind her. He slowed. She whimpered when she felt the long thick shaft nearly leave her, but then he thrust again, deep. He groaned roughly, and repeated the stroke. She realized he was watching himself pierce her. She began to bob her hips subtly, tempting him to resume his former pace. He lifted his hand and popped a buttock firmly. She gasped and stilled, panting. Expectant. He drew his cock nearly out of her again and thrust deep, grinding his balls against her outer sex. She tightened around him, moaning feverishly.
“Such a temptation, aren’t you?” he growled from behind her. He popped her bottom again. It wasn’t a hard stroke, but it drove her mad. She writhed in an agony of pleasure, her muscles straining tight.
“Again,” she said, only half aware of what she was saying … of what she begged for.
He slapped her ass again. She squeezed him tight and twisted her hips ever so slightly. She was transformed by lust, becoming a shameless, writhing creature.
“Jesus,” he groaned, his tone tight. Angry. Wild. He planted his fists on either side of her head and the pillow, bracing himself over her. He began fucking her again wholesale. The wood headboard clacked against the wall, the sound blending with that of her roaring heart and their slapping flesh. “If you dish it out, you’ve got to be prepared to take it,” Dylan bit out from above her.
“Harder,” she goaded him, defiant even while he rattled her with his stark possession. “I can take it. I can take you.”
“Then you will,” he grunted and lifted one hand from the mattress. He slapped the side of her buttock as he rode her hard. He pummeled her senses. She felt his cock lurch viciously in her channel, felt him swell impossibly huge.
She clutched the bedding mindlessly. He gave a low ominous growl and planted his fist back on the mattress.
Ruthless to the last, he fucked her while he came.
He slowed and then went still, his cock embedded fully in her. His breathing above her head was harsh and uneven. She lay there listening to it, relishing the evidence of his pleasure.
�
�You’re going to kill me, Alice,” he accused after a moment.
“Not if you kill me first.”
He gave a harsh bark of laugher. His strong forearm moved away from where she could see it in front of her face. She whimpered when he withdrew his cock. Her tissues stung a little. She started to turn over, but he stopped her by grasping her ass. His finger slid into the juicy cleft of her labia, rubbing her gently but firmly.
“I couldn’t wait for you, thanks to your teasing,” he said dryly as he stroked her clit. “But you’ve got one more orgasm in you.”
Her mouth fell open in disbelief. As it turned out, he was right.
She was starting to realize Dylan always was.
NINE
He went from deep sleep to a groggy wakefulness. A feeling of vague dissatisfaction lingered in his consciousness. What had wakened him? His bedroom was dark. His arms were both extended, as if he’d been holding something. If a woman was in his bed—which was often enough—it was for sex. He slept alone, even with someone else in his bed. He didn’t protest at the idea of a woman sleeping over, but in Dylan’s case, that didn’t mean snuggling and spooning all night long. If a woman had other ideas about that, she soon realized her mistake and either accommodated his preferences or didn’t return.
But he had the distinct impression that he’d wanted whatever had been in his arms tonight very much. And now they were empty.
Alice.
The memory of their fevered, wild joining last night flashed across his brain. She’d turned him into a savage yet again, he recalled with an amused sense of grim acceptance. She wasn’t like anyone he’d slept with before, but then … that was stating the obvious.
He’d fallen into a deep sleep with her pressed against him, the weight of her against his chest, her scent filling his nose, her smooth, round ass nestled against his groin. The sensation had been both arousing and relaxing at once. It was a relief, the weight of her reassuring, the scent of her only adding to the reality of her. Before he’d drifted off, he’d acknowledged she’d beckon him soon from sleep, the delight of her naked, supple body pressed against him too difficult to resist.
